#my ass is currently reading it and it’s fire

[frnknfrts]

me and my lit teacher are like this 🤞🏼

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽

A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.

Wild

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?

Word Count: 5,859k

AO3 Link

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.

You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.

So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right? 

You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.

You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!

The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees. 

Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military. 

You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.

You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.

You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were. 

Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face. 

You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.

You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.

You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.

“You’re loud as hell,” he said. 

“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!” 

Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.

You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.

He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look. 

But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.

“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water. 

You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass. 

He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man. 

���Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.

“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you. 

Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?” 

You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.

“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.

Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile. 

You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry. 

He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him. 

A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.

You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.

You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up. 

The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.

“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.

“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes. 

Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids. 

Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.

“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone. 

You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.

“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.

You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.

Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.

You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.

“I didn’t either,” you said. 

Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.” 

You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.

A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.

Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.

A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.

That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said. 

His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.

He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.

When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for? 

You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.

Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off. 

“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.

“I want to know,” he said.

You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.

“The kid’s show?” He asked.

You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.

You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.

“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.

“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.

“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.

You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing. 

You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.

Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.

It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.

You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.

Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.

Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week. 

Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready. 

You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.

“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.

Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.

“Next time, if you’re up for it.”

“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily. 

Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue. 

You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.

It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point. 

His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?

You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest. 

It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.

The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?” 

“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, quietly. 

You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.

“You’re too loud,” he said. 

You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.

“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag. 

You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.

Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.

Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.

Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.

He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.

You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.

Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look. 

The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.

“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“So were you!” You fired back.

“Nah, I was good,” he said.

“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.

“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said. 

“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!

“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.

You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.

“Give up?” He asked.

“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge. 

You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?” 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin. 

“Kiss me,” you said.

Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.

He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.

Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.

“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.

In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.

His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.

“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.

“Fuck no,” you said and giggled. 

Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you. 

You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.

You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–

Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.

You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.

Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut. 

“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers. 

“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.

It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.

“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.

You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.

“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”

Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said. 

“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said. 

He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work. 

“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked. 

Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said. 

“Fuck y–”

Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.

Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.

Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now? 

“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked. 

To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.

“Slam that shit back,” he said. 

You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.

“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.

Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.

He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you. 

Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.

“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.

You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.

“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.

“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd. 

“That’s my spot!” You squealed. 

“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over. 

Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd. 

“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.

There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-” 

Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”

Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.

Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.

Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now. 

Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside. 

“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.

Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.

“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”

“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear. 

He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.

The end.

Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover

[reasonsforhope]

Climate change in 2025: So, what now?

Some real talk for the new year, about where we now stand, and what the next years are going to look like.

(Still ends on a “be hopeful!! or else” kind of note, but definitely gets into some heavy truths about the meaning of recent events.)

--

Obviously, between Trump's reelection at the Los Angeles fires, things are feeling a lot more precarious than they did just a few months ago. I know a lot of people are incredibly stressed. I know I'm certainly stressed.

But this isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, either. We're not doomed.

Don't despair.

Yes, things are about to get harder. Yes, the effects of climate change are now becoming truly apparent.

But here's what you need to hold on to:

We have already cut expected warming in half.

More about that including sources here: (x) I'm not going to go into it again in detail, read the source for that. But it's true. In 2000, when I was a kid, they were predicting 4, 5, 6 degrees of warming, plus a runaway greenhouse effect that would boil the planet.

Now, scientists expect that global temperatures will likely land between 2 and 3 degrees.

Which is incredibly shitty, yes. But it's survivable.

And I have for a lot of reasons (check these masterposts on this) to believe with the confidence of knowing that we're going to get expected warming down even further.

And that's something to celebrate.

I’m not saying that the effects of warming aren’t already bad, or won’t get worse. I’m from California, I currently live in LA. My state’s been on fire for half my life. Natural disasters starting amping up early here (and we’re certainly in the middle of another historic number now). And yeah, it's fucking stressful right now.

But like I said, my state’s been breaking horrible disaster records constantly for the past ten years. I've done this before. And you know what? Natural disasters have been getting more and more survivable for years, largely thanks to faster warnings and better mass communication (x).

Does it suck how many natural disasters there are now? Yeah.

Does it suck how many more still there will be? Yeah.

Do we need to keep working our asses off to beat climate change? Yeah.

Are we going to need to organize and mobilize (both politically and especially community-wise) like never before to see as many people through these times as best as possible? Yeah.

But that doesn't mean we should despair. It absolutely does not mean that we've already lost.

An unknown number of the most optimistic futures were foreclosed when Trump won the US election. That’s painful but a reality.

But for twenty-ish of the past twenty-five years, the science said we weren’t going to survive climate change at all.

For most of my life, we were worried that we had set Earth on a course to become like fucking Venus (which is, on average, well over 800 degrees Farenheit). Even if it didn’t get that bad, we were so worried that global warming might wipe out all life on earth - except maybe the cockroaches.

(Literally, when I was a younger the kids at my church put on a play about that. It was like an adaptation of A Christmas Carol where the future only had talking cockroaches. I grew up so worried about this. (Not the cockroaches thing specifically. Mostly the general concept. Only a little about the cockroaches. Also yes my church was very granola why do you ask.))

But starting a few years ago, studies have shown that there wasn’t going to be a runaway greenhouse effect that could turn us into Venus; that earth is warming, yes, but we don’t seem to be in danger of that.

Between that and the fact that the adoption of renewables globally is too fast to be stopped, and we do have the technology and environmental science knowledge to eventually re-lower global temperatures by getting to net negative carbon emissions (x), and most countries and at least 73% of people in all countries for which there is data (x) actually care very much about the climate, yeah, we have closed the door on the lava planet future.

And yeah, I do think that’s worth celebrating.

That’s a massive fucking victory.

There's still more work to do, and I have every confidence that we're going to do it. I also think that, given the loss of the US election, there’s a really, really strong chance the developing world will be what saves us, and we’ll just be lucky to be along for the ride.

Most people have no idea of the kinds of amazing stories and statistics coming out of the developing world and Indigenous communities. The world is changing for the better on the environment, even as disasters (and the US) are getting worse. Solar power is going to revolutionize the fucking world, because it’s going to grant humanity universal access to electricity, and that’s going to revolutionize the world, especially the developing world (aka the global majority). And most people have no idea at all, much less how much it’s going to change.

So, yeah, natural disasters are going to keep getting worse.

But there’s a long, long long fucking way between “natural disasters are going to keep getting worse” and “the extinction of all of humanity and/or the vast majority of life on earth”

So, in the face of Trump, in the face of everything, I still choose to hope. I still choose to celebrate this as a true and profound accomplishment.

Because for over twenty years, I was afraid I’d never get to.

That difference is absolutely worth celebrating.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

chat

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe, established relationship, semi public sex, male receiving oral

part one / part two

���sup chat.” rafe says, barely glancing at the words on the screen as viewers pour in. “we are playing cod, what the fuck else would we be playing?”

you giggle quietly in the corner of the room. you're not surprised that when rafe decided to start streaming that he grew quickly in popularity. his good looks compared with dry sense of humor and ruthlessness made him get both girls and guys to become loyal viewers.

rafe loads up modern warfare, glancing at you as you watch him intensely, the one person he cares about.

“come here baby.” rafe beckons you over. you appear regularly on his streams, usually just sitting silently watching him play, or scrolling on your phone in the background.

you move quickly to rafes side, bending down to press a kiss to his lips when he lifts his head up.

“love you.” you whisper, kissing the smirk that stretches over his lips.

you turn to look at the screen as the comments about you roll in. “sorry ladies, but he's mine.” you rub your hand against rafes neck as you read a message out loud.

“how long have you been dating?”

“since mind your own business.” rafe fires back quickly, making you roll your eyes, watching as he joins a private party of his friends and other streamers. 

rafe may get snippy with chatters (half of which go crazy and start talking about being degraded by him) but he never acts that way with you as he lets out a whine when you walk away.

“another kiss for good luck.”

you press your mouths together again, increasing the intensity for all to see as you make out until you hear the game begin. you pull away to take your place just off screen.

“god, she's hot, isn't she?” rafe says with a smirk, glancing over to you as the boys in chat no doubt agree considering your ass was in the camera for part of the kiss. you roll your eyes dramatically, making rafe smile.

you pull your phone out as the game starts. you like to watch him play sometimes, but as rafe has streamed more and more, you've lost interest in the game and prefer to scroll through instagram or tiktok while listening to him responding to chatters or talking with fellow streamers.

you eventually grow bored as he plays game after game. you check his stream on your phone, curious the number of current viewers. he's not one of the most streamed, but he gets consistently good numbers as you lock your phone and place it down.

rafe glances over to you as he sees you move, but his eyes snap back to the game as shooting erupts from the speakers and he has to focus on not getting killed.

you move next to rafe, very aware that you are in perfect view of the camera as you sink to your knees and crawl under the desk.

“baby.” rafe warns, the other players letting out a laugh, but are quickly silenced with a growl from rafe.

“come on, just let me put it in my mouth.” you whine, not sure if the microphone is going to pick up your begging. “want it so bad.”

rafe usually wouldn't stop you, but he doesn't want to get banned and have to find someplace new to stream.

“alright, don't distract me from my game though.” he says, looking down between his legs as you work yourself in-between, pushing wires out of the way so you can kneel comfortably.

chat exploded as rafes view count rises, not hiding at all what you are doing between his legs as you tug at his basketball shorts, forcing them out from beneath him as his underwear is revealed, cock clearly outlined through the thin fabric.

you waste no time presses kisses up and down his length until it's straining against the fabric. rafe manages to keep his concentration on the game despite you pulling his cock out of his underwear.

“fuck.” he mutters softly as your bare mouth is now on him, eyes on the screen as he evades getting shot.

“yeah, she's under the fucking desk. stop talking about it.” rafe addresses his chat that must be going crazy. 

you hear some commotion from the people on call with them, but even they don't push it as rafe changes the conversation back to the game, telling the other players what they need to do next.

you sink your lips around his cock, staying true to your word and letting it sit heavy on your tongue, keeping still as you close your eyes. 

“alright, move baby.” rafe says after a few minutes, tapping you on the head.

you didn't hear him say goodbye to stream, but you assume he must have ended it as your head begins to bob up and down, cock pushing deep into your throat before you retract.

you swirl your tongue around his tip, loving the unique taste on your tongue as you lap up and down his shaft, making obscene slurping noises that you probably should be ashamed of, but you don't care if people do hear. you don't think anyone would blame you with how attractive rafe is.

“good girl.” he moans out as you hear his mouse furiously clicking.

you go back to sucking at his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you move just how you know rafe likes it.

“goddamn it.” rafe groans, smashing his mouse against the desk as he gets killed in the game, his hand lowering as he waits to press against the back of your head, pushing you down until your nose is nuzzled against his skin.

you hold for as long as possible, even after rafes fingers return to his keyboard as a new game begins until you can't restrict your gag reflex any longer, pulling off with a cough.

“chat shut the fuck up.” rafe grunts out.

you lean forward, looking up at him through the space between his body and the desk. “you're still streaming?”

rafe glances down at you, your lips pink and shiny, face looking small next to his erect cock. 

“keep going, baby. don't worry about it.”

“mkay.” you shrug. you know rafe won't blame you even if he does get in trouble for streaming this. despite nothing actually being shown, he hasn't exactly been subtle about it.

you bring your focus back to rafes cock, suckling on the head before you begin to move up and down his shaft again, his long length being wrapped in the warmth of your mouth.

“close.” rafe warns with a moan.

“dude, are you actually getting head right now?” someone asks. you recognize their voice as a fellow streamer.

“shut up.” rafe says. “are you trying to get me banned?”

“sorry.” he quickly says. 

“just focus on the fucking game and cover for me for a minute.” rafe navigates his character into a corner as he looks down at you, both hands coming to the back of your head, pushing you down as his hips lift, burying his cock down your throat as he cums.

you swallow as quickly as you can, not wanting to lose a single drop as he coats your throat before letting go, pulling you off to see you sputter, a wicked grin on his face.

rafe pulls his underwear to cover his cock once again as you crawl out from under the desk, your knees weak as you wobble slightly as you stand, rafe reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

“thanks for that, baby.” rafe says, hand squeezing against your side.

you look at him, a glimmer in your eye as you whisper. “does this mean i can sit on your cock next time we do a couples stream?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @pradabambie @akirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 bmf

synopsis: zoro doesn't take kindly to you being disrespected... at all.

cw: supposed to parallel piña colada, fluffy fluff, comfort, ZORO DOES NOT PLAY ABOUT YOU, protective zoro, decent amount of profanity in this one, zoro is mr. handle it.

a/n: I LOVE LANA SO MUCH I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF ZORO WHEN I HEARD THIS SONG <3 i suggest you listen to it while reading for the full experience.

"This is insane!" a random onlooker exclaimed, hand gripping his hair in disbelief. "Are these guys even human?!"

His shouts of surprise were followed by howls of excitement from the other passerby, everyone packed tightly around your net and towels to get a glimpse of the action.

Originally, the boys had been taking on challengers in four-on-four volleyball matches, but when they kept kicking everyone's ass, they opted for two on two between themselves instead.

The current match was Sanji and Usopp vs. Zoro and Franky.

And the entire crowd was on the edge of their seats.

"C'mon, Sanji! Get your head in the game!" Nami exclaimed, slightly tipsy, as she gripped onto her wad of cash. "If you lose this, I'm out thirty thousand berries!"

"Yes, Nami-Swan! Your wish is my command!" the lovesick cook squealed, completely stopping what he was doing to gawk at her, his eyes turning heart-shaped.

With a smirk, Zoro took the opportunity to launch himself in the air, meeting Franky's set perfectly and spiking the ball into the sand with a deafening slam, the force creating a small crater.

"Yes! Good job, Zo'!" you cheered, pumping your free fist in the air while the other held your swordsman's sake.

"SANJI!" Nami growled, furious.

With a small chuckle, Robin glanced up from her book, eyes carefully examining the navigator's puffed cheeks and childish pout.

'Adorable...'

"Nami, this is supposed to be a vacation..." you snickered, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you relax?"

"I would be relaxed if I was making money!" she huffed, crossing her arms over his chest. "I ask him to do one thing, and he can't even do that!"

"This is for the win! One last rally!" Chopper announced, happily jumping atop his lifeguard chair.

"C'mon, Sanji, you gotta help me on this!" Usopp exclaimed as he grabbed the cook by his shoulders, attempting to shake him out of it. "There's no way I'm stopping them if they pull that move again!"

"Nice work, bro!" Franky commended, giving your moss-haired swordsman a high-five as he approached the service line, ball in hand.

"Thanks," he nodded, a cocky smirk settling on his lips as he turned to face the net. "Now, let's finish this... I got a nice bottle of sake waiting for me."

Out the corner of his eye, he glanced at his towel, where you sat, reapplying your sunscreen.

Carefully, you squeezed a glob into your palm, closing the cap before rubbing your hands together and massaging it into the flesh of your legs.

Like a dog with a bone, he watched, mesmerized, as you caressed your skin, the sunscreen giving you an alluring shine and making your legs look ripe and tender for the grabbing.

'Goddamn...'

He grinned, taking in the light (f/c) of your bikini, along with the waist beads hanging lazily over your stomach, and the gold anklets and bracelets that jingled with your every movement.

You looked oh-so sexy, and he was oh-so ready to join you.

"Let's hurry this up!"

Tossing the ball in the air, he served, sending it flying over the net with the force of a cannonball.

"Sanji!" Usopp shrieked, eyes wide with fear as he slapped his hands on his cheeks.

"Diable Mouton Shot!" Sanji spat, jumping into the air and hitting the ball with a flaming kick, sending the it right back.

The damned thing caught on fire with his force, and was headed straight for the sand.

"What a weak serve! I'd expect that from you, moss for brains!"

"HAH?! YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGAIN!"

"I got it, bro!" Franky dove, extending his fist in the nick of time and saving the ball, letting it bounce into the sky. "All you!"

Pissed, Zoro broke into a running start before launching himself into the air once again, the crowd going wild as he wound up his arm for one monster slam.

Suddenly, something called his attention to the sidelines, his eyes instantly landing on the (h/c) head of hair that belonged to his girlfriend.

You were smiling from ear to ear, beaming with pride, hands clasped together as you watched him soar through the air.

Finding his eyes, you gave your swordsman a firm nod, your expression encouraging him to push forward.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

With renewed vigor, Zoro turned to the ball, your support turning his drive into pure, molten fire.

He roared, striking down on the ball, executing a perfect spike.

"Ow!" a random woman winced as she walked past, lifting up her foot. "Stupid seashells..."

"Do you need help, my dear?! I'd be glad to carry you wherever you need to go!" Sanji offered, practically teleporting to her side with a lovesick grin.

"SANJI!" Usopp screamed, terrified, as the ball came careening toward him.

Frantic, he dove out the way, just barely saving his ass as it slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack, a large burst of sand shooting up from the ground.

For a moment, the crowd was silent, before erupting with roars of joy and excitement.

Everyone rushed Zoro as he landed, Franky letting out loud whoops and howls of victory.

"SANJI!" Nami shouted, dropping herself face first in her towel. "My berries!"

"Zoro and Franky win! Way to go, Zoro!" Chopper cheered, jumping off of the lifeguard chair.

"That move was killer, man!" one of the onlookers exclaimed. "I could barely see the ball!"

"You should go pro! You'd make a killing!" another added.

"Great game!"

"Good job!"

"You're the best player I've ever seen!”

"That last spike was insane! A little higher and you could've jumped over the net!"

The women were next to swarm, pushing past the men and surrounding him on all sides.

"Nice game, hot stuff!"

"You're really strong, aren't you?"

"You doin' anything later tonight?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, unamused, as he attempted to maneuver around them, one thing on his mind.

You.

Though, as he managed to peer past the crowd of girls, he caught sight of a man next to his towel.

He was large for an average guy, muscular and decently good-looking with shaggy brown hair.

But that wasn't what bothered Zoro.

What bothered Zoro was the way he was talking to you, forcibly positioning himself to tower over your sitting form and using a sharp tone that sparked a few embers of anger in the swordsman's chest.

Who the fuck did he think he was talking to?

"You got a name, handso—?" "Move."

Pushing past her and the other girls, he power-walked toward your umbrella, getting close enough to actually make out what you were saying.

"Look, whatever your name is, I'm trying to help you out," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I can't promise your safety if my boyfriend comes back here and catches you acting like this."

He'd been at this for fifteen minutes...

After Robin left to go get a drink, and Nami ran off to kick Sanji's ass, he swooped in like a vulture on the hunt, attempting to put the moves on you.

He used every line in the book, laying it on thick as he bragged about his weight-lifting stats and obnoxiously flexed his muscles in your face.

"My safety?" he scoffed, letting out a haughty chuckle at your outlandish statement. "Sweetheart, if anything, your boyfriend's the one that should be worryin' about safety. I guarantee you I'm twice the man he is."

You paused a moment, almost disbelieving, lifting up your shades and waiting to see if the man was serious.

He was.

Deadly serious, actually.

'HA!'

You threw your head back in a burst of uproarious laughter, the sound causing the man to jolt with surprise, and slight confusion.

He'd never seen your expressions range anything past disinterest, so seeing you so amused by the idea of him beating up your boyfriend was... jarring, to say the least.

But you couldn't help yourself.

Zoro, the man with a bounty over one billion?

Zoro, the master of the sword belonging to the king of hell?

Zoro, the man who has moved literal mountains with his bare hands?

It was almost too much.

The man's brows furrowed, face burning at the mockery.

"The hell is so fuckin' funny?!" he huffed, growing anger.

Attempting to regain your composure, you wiped a tear from your eye, slightly clutching your stomach as your laughs died down.

"You wish," you snickered into the rim of your fruity drink, taking a sip as you attempted to muffle your chuckles. "He'd kill you... like actually."

Furious, the man took a harsh step forward, completely invading your personal space and smacking your drink out your hand, knocking the cup into the sand.

"You think I'm some kind of joke, bitch?!" he exclaimed, the veins in his neck bulging.

"Pick it up."

Zoro's voice traveled through the air like a wave of ice, quelling the slight pangs of worry in your chest like water to a fire.

Feeling tough, the man snapped his head around, meeting your swordsman with a harsh glare.

That is... until he realized who he was talking to.

Instantly, the wind left his sails, eyes widening and heart sinking like a rock in a river as it all finally clicked.

Your boyfriend was one of the most wanted men in the New World.

"Y-You... Y-You're... Pirate Hunter?!"

"I said... pick it up," Zoro pressed, tone leaving no room for argument, eye sharply trained on the bastard in front of him. "Before I make you do it myself."

"Look! I didn't know she was your girlfriend!" the man blubbered, practically shaking as he scrambled to pick up your glass, frantically handing it to you. "I didn't mean it! I don't want any trouble!"

"Then get lost," Zoro spat, harshly, brows cinching with anger. "You come around here again and I'll show you who's the real bitch."

The man didn't have to hear it twice.

Like that, he was gone, running back to his friends with his tail between his legs.

Finally able to sit, Zoro plopped himself down next to you, muttering and grumbling to himself in annoyance as he watched the man run away.

He let him off easy—only because you chewed him out the last time he "went overboard" and caused an island-wide incident, forcing the crew to evacuate.

He nearly murdered the island's sovereign for calling you out of your name, and doubling down when he told him to watch his mouth.

Tenderly, you grabbed his chin, pulling him in and placing a thankful kiss on his cheek as you handed off his sake.

"My hero," you cooed, teasingly.

With a grumble, he popped the cork with his teeth, taking a large swig with puffed cheeks, before breaking off with a harsh sigh.

As he wiped the excess with the back of his hand, he glanced at the man once again, anger flaring in his chest when the bastard hid behind his umbrella.

Like a goddamn child...

Zoro scoffed, taking another swig of his sake.

"Fuckin' pussy..."

[hersweetsstrawberry]

Kinktober day 1, brat taming 🥀

Warnings: NSFW content, possible ooc on some characters. Spanking (Ratio), teasing, some degradation, sir kink (Ratio), rough sx (Blade), hair pulling, riding (Jing Yuan), Daddy kink (Jing Yuan), and Dom/sub dynamics mentioned

Characters featured: Blade, Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio

(if anyone knows where I can find headers for my posts, you're getting it tonight)

Hsr men who strike me as brat tamers....

Blade strikes me as an obvious one. Mara struck or not, Blade is powerful man that certainly won't let a cute little thing like you push him around. He has a brief moment of patience- waiting to see if you'll behave. But after an hour of you teasing him, groping at his chest and pestering him, Blade has had enough...

"E-easy-!" You attempt to stutter out as he pounded harshly into you from behind. Your face buried in his bed, hands gripping the sheets as he held your hips and fucked up into you...it was overwhelming, to say the least. You could hear Blade behind you, the huffs and growls he made as his grip tightened up on your thighs.

"Brats like you don't deserve easy," he practically snarled out, before he freed a hand to yank at your hair, pulling your head back. "Brats like you deserve punishment." You couldn't resist arching your back a bit more, a whimper slipping out at a particularly well aimed thrust, his words only fueling the fire deep inside.

You could always try to plead with him, to insist you're a good girl that could behave- and hope he'd have mercy on you. But the thought of this continuing until your brain was mush and your body remembered the imprint of his touch was just too tantalizing....

Dr Ratio I feel, is another obvious answer. Strong, intelligent, blunt and perhaps a tad confrontational, he isn't the kind of man to tolerate petty backtalk. Especially coming from your sweet mouth. As he tries to focus on his research, you make snarky comment after snarky comment, having the audacity to sit in his lap and impede his reading.

He won't admit it, but it's cute at first. Until you won't stop whining for attention, or you start biting at him in your conquest to annoy him. He reprimands you lightly, but the message doesn't seem to be getting through. It's not until his hand is slapping across your ass that you seem to understand.

"D-doctor, c'mon-!" You whined to him as another slap resounded through the room. Ratio gave a quiet noise, which you could only describe as a huff of disapproval. "It is sir, to you. And you brought this up on yourself, unruly brat"

A whine came from you as more spanks were delivered- Ratios hand was firm, but not yet too painful. Each slap to your cute ass held a purpose- an intent to tame you and curb your bratty attitude. Veritas paused again before delivering another slap. "I told you to count, brat. What number are you currently on?"

A flush ran over your cheeks as you realized your own distraction, and try as you might to scrounge up a number, your mind blanked and his patience yet again ebbed away- hand being brought back down to your backside..

"We start over. And this time, count them."

And last for brat tamers would be Jing yuan ...with that lazy smirk and sexy gaze, he knows exactly how to handle you. If you want his attention so badly, (badly enough that you'll grind on him while he's working at his desk) then he'll give it to you. Even if it's much more than previously bargained for.

Jing yuans large hands now gripped your sides tight, guiding you up and down on his lap, encouraging you to ride him. Whenever you complained of the difficulties of moving on him, he'd just chuckle and tousle your hair.

"Easy rides are for good girls. If only you'd behaved..."

There was such a a smugness behind that smile as he watched you struggle above him, and he seemed content to just watch the fight leak out of you as you shuddered on his cock.

A particular harsh bounce set your nerves on fire, and you couldn't repress a whine from between your teeth. "Daddy please...nn.... c'mon, g-go easy-!" His golden eyes crinkled with amusement, his smirk becoming more prominent as he thrusted up into you, silencing your protests.

"You can take it.....after all, isn't this what you wanted, you little brat? Grinding so needily in my lap?"

[the-oblivious-writer]

Get Her Back!

Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Athena!Reader

One-shot

Summary: You and Clarisse have always had a reputation for the rollercoaster you both called your relationship. While on another one of your "breaks," you decide you want to mess with her

Warning(s): Swearing, Clarisse & r are hella toxic, jealousy (on both ends but mostly jealous!Clarisse), making out (nothing more is hinted at, just Clarisse & r kissing like the problematic girlfriends they are), & arguing

Notes: Wooo this one got a bit heated before I knew it. Hope you enjoy

You and Clarisse La Rue… how does one sum up your relationship with the Ares kid? You and her were known for being on and off, arguing almost as much as you made out. You were both in a toxic, heated, yet passionate, relationship. 

Oh, how you loved each other. 

You met Clarisse the first summer you got to camp. It didn’t take long for you to discover what you had gotten yourself into. She argued with you about everything, she had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye; you couldn’t help but be attracted to her, even when she was so obviously lying about her height. 

The first time you left Clarisse was in the spring, that was when your current dynamic truly started. You lasted about a week before you were back in her arms, forgetting how you threw all her stolen clothes out your cabin’s window just a few nights before. 

You were currently going through another one of your breaks with Clarisse while you laid down on your bed, reading as you tried to ignore another little lecture from your friend. 

“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you stay with her, you know? The second my boyfriend did me wrong, I kicked his ass out the door. For good,” he said, sitting at the end of your bed.

“That’s because you didn’t have what me and Clarisse have,” you responded, looking up at him from your book. He shrugged, mumbling, “Whatever.” 

“Do you love or hate her? I honestly can’t tell anymore. One second, she’s the worst human being to ever exist but then the next, she’s the love of your life, the woman you’re gonna marry.”

“I guess it’s up and down,” you replied in a nonchalant tone before looking back at your book.

He lightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he said, “I need to learn when to give up trying to figure you out.”

—

Later that night was the bonfire. You didn’t really feel like attending but your friend had basically begged you to go. Just five minutes in, and he was already flirting with a girl from cabin ten. You were staring off into the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you suddenly heard somebody sit next to you. You turned your head to see a dark haired boy, looking at you with a smile as he spoke.

“Hey gorgeous, I’m Steve. I think I’ve seen you around before. Athena cabin, right?” He asked, his eyes never pulling from you. You didn’t feel like entertaining him. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was flirting with you. But thoughts of not reciprocating his flirtatious attitude quickly disappear when you see Clarisse watching from the corner of your eyes. 

All night you had to watch Clarisse cuddle up with someone who wasn’t you. And all night you refused to give her the attention you knew she was hoping to get out of it, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to. So when you finally get the chance for that sweet revenge, you don't hesitate.

You looked at the boy next to you, putting on a sweet smile and placing a hand on his knee. “Yeah, cabin six. What about you?” You slightly tilted your head, looking at him as if he was the most interesting person on earth.

“Hermes cabin,” he responded. He suddenly grew a bit shy under touch, but welcomed it nevertheless. “Hey do you uh… wanna get out of here? I know this cool spot I could show you.” You knew what that was code for; do you want to make out?

“Sure, sounds good,” you winked at him before getting up. He held his hand out for you, which you took as you both began to walk away from the fire. Clarisse's eyes were on you the whole time, clenching her jaw as she watched you walk with him hand in hand. She ignored her siblings’ confused looks as she walked over to you before you and Steve could go any further.

“I think she’s good here,” she said—not asked.

“Um, I think she can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl, if she wants to go, she can go,” he responded. 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but she’s not leaving with you.” She glared at the boy with storms in her eyes, her fists balled up. By now your hands were separated from the boy’s, watching the entertaining scene in front of you with a knowing look on your face.

“Excuse me–” Before he could get himself into any more trouble, you walked to Clarisse’s side—she instantly put her hand on your lower back.

“Listen it was nice meeting you Steve, but she’s right; I should really get going; it’s getting kinda late.” You gave him a fake apologetic look. “Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?” You managed to get out as Clarisse was practically dragging you away. 

“What’s your problem?” You said to her when you both finally made it to the cabin—her cabin. 

“My problem? What’s yours! You know Steve is a douchebag, we were literally laughing about it last week,” Clarisse let out with an aggravated tone. 

“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that somebody else is stuck with my high maintenance ass!” She only rolled eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t bring that up!” You dryly laughed.

“Oh my Gods,” she mumbled before continuing. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!”

“And you’re the most hot-tempered woman I have ever met!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up as you stepped closer to her. “You’re a hot-headed asshole!”

“Well it’s better than being a stubborn know-it-all!” She took a step towards you; your faces were now no more than inches apart. You both stole a glance at the other’s lip before a moment of silence. Suddenly, your lips connected. She was firmly gripping your waist while one of your hands found itself in her hair as the other held the back of her neck.

“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled breathless against her lips. She pushed you up against the cabin door; Gods, you didn’t even care that you were still outside and anybody could just walk by.

“I fucking hate you too.” Her kissing was hungry, passionate. Blood was rushing through veins, your cheeks were warm, and butterflies had erupted in your stomach. You could feel Clarisse feeling for the door's handle for a few seconds before you reached behind you to turn it.

You both went inside, Clarisse kicking the door shut. You could feel her warm touch as her hand grazed the skin of your lower back. She walked you backwards toward her bed, never daring to pull away. 

“Fuck, I love you,” you let out as Clarisse moved down to your neck.

“I love you too, don’t you forget it,” she murmurs against you. 

Clarisse La Rue may have been narcissistic, stubborn, hot-headed, and pretentious, but you were your mother’s daughter, so maybe you could fix her.

-----------

A/N: she could abuse me, beat the dog-shit outta me, cheat on me, hit me with her car

[cameronsprincess]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS — R.C

— summary: When Rafe gets home from a night out to find you drunk off your ass and pouting, he finds a way to make you feel better.

— CW: smut! 18+ only! alcohol consumption, dom!rafe, praise and degrading, blowjob, slapping, spitting, choking.

Rafe Cameron masterlist | Taglist form

You pick up your phone, checking the time yet again. It reads 11:15 pm and you sigh. Rafe should’ve been home hours ago.

You’re not the kind of girlfriend to say he can’t hang out with his friends, you want him to enjoy himself whenever he wants. But with all the rumors that float around about your relationship with him, and all his past flings putting things in your head, you can’t help but wonder— is Rafe cheating on you?

Sighing, you grab the neck of the half drank champagne bottle, bringing the top to your lips and tipping it, letting the now room temp liquid slide down your throat.

“Oh, God.” you groan as you set the bottle back on the table in front of you.

Your face tingles, body on fire from the amount of champagne you’ve drank in the last hour and a half. Your eyes flit to the empty bottle of Dom Perignon and then to the half drank bottle you’re currently working on.

The sound of the front door opening and closing softly catches your attention, making you stand on unsteady feet and stumble toward it.

“Rafeeeeee, where,” hiccup. “have you been?” you slur out, stumbling closer to him.

He catches you in his arms when you fall forward, his blue eyes burning into your face as he stares down at you.

“Are you drunk?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You push out of his hold and storm back into the living room, your body stumbling into the wall on your way. Why the fuck is he ignoring your question? You plop back down onto the couch, gripping the neck of the champagne bottle again and taking another long swig.

“You- You fucking drank two of my Dom Perignon bottles? Babe! Those were for tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, bringing the bottle to your lips again, but before you can take another sip, Rafe snatches it from your hands.

“What the fuck, Rafe!” you shout.

Rafe sets the bottle down on the table, the force he uses causing the table to shake. You open your mouth to speak, but his hand wrapping around your throat has you gasping instead.

He tightens his ringed fingers around your neck, squeezing at your pulse points tightly and taking away your air before he yanks you to your feet. His hard blue eyes search yours. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Why the fuck are you pouting and drunk off your ass?”

He loosens his grip, allowing you to suck in a breath of air. His eyes narrow on yours, waiting on your answer. You lift your chin the best you can, his hand still wrapped around your throat just not as tight, “Are you cheating on me?” you ask, wanting to finally get the one question that’s been eating you alive off your chest.

Rafe scoffs, his hand tightening around your throat again. You wrap your hands around his wrist, clawing and trying to pull him off, but it’s no use.

“Why you askin’ dumb fuckin’ questions? Huh? Because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

You continue to claw at his hand. Dots line your vision, your eyes fluttering shut. Just when you think Rafe is going to choke you out, he releases your throat, tossing you back onto the couch. Your hands fly to your neck, rubbing at the tender spot where his rings and fingers dug into your skin.

“I— ‘m sorry..” you mumble, your tear filled eyes lifting to meet his.

“You’re sorry? Why the fuck do you think I’d cheat on you, huh? Tell me. Why the fuck do you think that way?”

You open your mouth to speak but quickly shut it. If you tell Rafe you’re letting what others say get to you, it’ll piss him off, if you say that him being out so late had your mind wandering, it’ll piss him off. It’s a lose-lose situation for you.

Rafe steps toward you and your back presses further into the couch. You watch him, your mind racing at what he’s going to do to you. You know you’re going to be punished for asking such a stupid question, and then add on refusing to answer why your mind was thinking that way or why you asked the question in the first place? Yeah, you were being punished.

Rafe tsks, reaching down and grabbing the neck of the champagne bottle. He brings it to his lips, taking a sip before he says, “What’m I gonna do with you huh? I mean, you asked a dumb fuckin’ question, and can’t even tell me why.” He takes another sip, his eyes staring at the bottle when he brings it back down.

A smile spreads across his face, and you swallow the knot that’s formed in your throat.

“I got an idea.”

Rafe quickly sets the bottle down, his fingers moving to work off his belt and jeans. You watch him intently as he slides the rough denim and his boxers down his legs. His hard cock springs free, slapping him just below his belly button and you swear you start drooling. You’ll never get tired of seeing him like this.

“Come get on your knees f’me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sliding off the couch and falling to your knees before him. Rafe smirks, his right hand reaching out and running his knuckles down the side of your face. You lean into him, whimpering when he pulls his hand back and slaps your cheek.

“You gonna be my good little whore and do whatever I ask, right?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your cheek again. “Yes what, sweetheart?”

“‘M gonna be your good little whore.. Gonna do whatever you ask.”

“Good girl.”

Rafe reaches out, gripping the neck of the champagne bottle again. He tilts it, allowing some of the liquid to spill over his hard cock. You gasp, watching as it coats his thick shaft and run down his thighs.

He sets the bottle back down, tangling one hand in your hair while the other grips at his cock, slowly stroking it. He pushes your head forward, running his swollen tip over the seam of your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. Gonna fuck this pretty face and show you how much I love you.”

You obey, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue fall out. Rafe brings his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you. He rubs the head of his cock on your tongue and you moan when the taste of champagne and precum coats your tongue.

Rafe slowly pushes himself into your mouth. You close your lips around the tip, sucking and swirling your tongue around it. Rafe groans, “Goddamn, sweetheart. That’s it, show me how much you love having my cock in your mouth.”

He pushes more of himself into your mouth before slowly pulling back out. You keep your mouth wide open, drool running down your tongue and chin as you stare up at him.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous, and all mine.”

He shoves his cock down your throat without warning, causing you to gag around him. The hand in your hair tightens as he begins to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth. Drool drips from your mouth and down your chin, coating his cock and balls in the process. The sounds of your gags and slurps fill the room, Rafe groaning when you try to swallow, your throat tightening around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Such a good whore f’me, yeah? Love fuckin’ this pretty face, love hearing you gag f’me and seeing the tears in your eyes,” He pauses, grunting as he harshly thrusts himself into your mouth, pushing your head down and holding you there. Your nose is pressed against his lower stomach, tears streaming down your face from the force of his thrusts.

He quickly pulls himself from your mouth, spit flying from your lips. He releases your hair, grabbing the champagne bottle before his free hand grips your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You watch as he brings the bottle to his lips, tilting it and filling his mouth with the alcohol. He tosses the now empty bottle to the side and leans forward, spitting the champagne into your mouth, some of it missing your open mouth and hitting your face.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to avoid any getting into your eyes. Rafe releases your cheeks, tapping at your face lightly, “Good girl, such a good girl f’me.”

You whimper, opening your eyes to see him stroking his cock again. He slaps at your face again, free hand tangling into your hair and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to shove his cock back down your throat, and you gag. Tears flow freely down your face as Rafe brutally fucks your face, his grunts and groans of pleasure bounce off the walls.

“Ffffuck… Gonna cum, sweetheart. Shit!”

Rafe’s cock swells in your mouth, pulsing as hot ropes of cum fill your mouth. He pushes himself down your throat, forcing you to swallow every last drop of his cum.

He slowly slips his softening cock from your mouth, releasing your hair. You slowly sag onto the floor, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Rafe crouches down, his face inches from yours before he softly kisses your lips.

“Never, question me again. I would never cheat on you, and I’ll prove that to you every goddamn day if I need to, alright?”

RAFE TAGLIST: @oceandriveab @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @maybankslover @bellbottombaby @rafesgiirl @urbimom @antagonize-me-motherfucker @chaneydoll @bi-zowee @zrm004 @ijustwanttoreadlols @hyperfixationgirl @justheretoreadthestories @chiaraanatra @chimindity @juniebugg @unsaidjaelinrose @momoewn @spid6y @wearemadeofstardust0 @daydreamrafe @mattyskies @fallrafwe

[contrarianwitt]

thoughts while rereading tdt: part 3

kavinsky i swear stop your goddamn yearning

adam being happy blue is saying the word girlfriend to him when she is actively questioning their relationship king i’m glad you’re focusing on the positives but i don’t think it’s a good thing

blue baby i love you but maybe don’t call adam’s best friend to pick you up when you just broke up and adam’s currently sleeping on your couch. that’s a bit messy

THE FACT THAT GANSEY PULLS HIMSELF OUT OF THE CAR AFTER THE “JANE IN THIS LIGHT” COMMENT THE SAME WAY HE DID AT THE SUBSTANCE PARTY. GANSEY ON FIRE.

ughhhh the most iconic bluesey scene ever!! “and now we never talk about it” my ass. you survive and live happy and so do adam and ronan

k there’s no way gansey doesn’t know ronan is gay considering he clocked kavinsky “needing to come to terms with his sexuality”before ronan did. like wdym ronan you’re just now wondering if kavinsky is gay? what the hell did you think all that was for

the gray man is the step father who stepped up bc yes! offer to kill gansey just because he didn’t want to talk to blue

kavinsky is such a well written character oh my god i didn’t like him the first time i read the series but he’s so interesting and his end is so tragic

“ronan’s second secret was adam parrish” is actually one of the greatest lines ever.

you can really see that maura is blues mother when she immediately disappears to find artemus right after her situationship left. i love the sargent’s but timing is not their strong suit

part 1. part 2.

bllb

[fanaticsnail]

Oh snail, i know you already have a long list of WIPs (i can't wait to read them) and your Inbox is probably already full with requests, so i understand if its not in the cards right now.

I was just wondering what the kid-pirates would do, or how they would react if ther precious doc-reader is the one that was injured badly or was very sick. Especialy how Killer would react after that romantic tention between them (i need more of that 😩). I don't have a particular song in mind, because the seires already has a vibe to it, hope thats okay.

I wish you a wonderful day/night/evening! 💕Sooo looking forward to your next work, whatever it may be 🐢

I love you for this prompt, @daydreamer-in-training. Thank you!

Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 2,000+

Synopsis: You've taken care of your crew and nursed them back to health from their flus... but now it's your turn. The Kid-Pirates do their best to take care of the worlds worst patient, their doctor: you.

Themes: platonic!kid-pirates, eustass kid x gn!reader, swearing, illness, comforting, taking medication, kid is a bit of a dom, doc is a bit of a bra, you're the kid-pirate doctor: the crew calls you 'doc'.

Notes: I am currently struggling with the flu myself, and this was simply too cute to not write about. Thank you for your ask, it's been fun to write about!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey, Doc? Did we need any more petroleum jelly from the-...?” the fire breather called beside you, hating when you turned to face him, “...-Shit, Doc. You look like absolute balls today.” 

Rolling your swollen, glassy and red eyes at him, you draw another tissue from your counter and sneeze into it. The silky tissue felt like sandpaper over your leaky nose, the skin splitting surrounding your nostrils and leaving small stains of red on the pale paper.

“Always so full of compliments and kindness, Heat,” you huff out, your voice sounding hoarse and cracking along with every word. Heat cringed, recoiling away from you with eyes narrowed in sympathy. You attempt to breathe through your blocked nose, no air passing through the dual nostrils.

Treating the crew for the past two weeks, and nursing them to health in recovering from the flu, had finally caught up with you. You felt both cold and hot at the same time, your skin both dry and sticky with sweat. Mind swelling and cracking behind the tense throbbing throughout your brain caused a dull ache ringing in your ears and fogging your mind.

“I-... I’m just saying, Doc,” he reiterated in defense of himself, “You don’t look too good. Maybe you ought to sit out from the in-land trip to restock. Stay home on the Victoria Punk?” Heat suggested with a soft smile and a subtle shrug.

“What?” you grunted out a cough, “And leave you lot to restock my clinic for me? Not fucking like-...” coughing into another tissue, your glassy eyes pricked at the corners and began to spill out and down your cheeks, “...-likely.” 

Heat’s smile fled from his face, his lip downturning in sympathy. He shook his head and extended his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him out through the door towards the deck. You attempt to sniff back another intake of air to reopen your nose to no avail. Following on, you trudge somberly towards the top deck where the crew were all waiting to step foot onto the pier. 

Without drawing attention to yourself, your eyes squinted lazily to compensate for the pain the sun caused your mind. With each achy step, you attempted to bite back the ache your body was going through. Barely aware of your surroundings, you gesture in the medicinal remedy booths at town square for herbs, ointments and aromatic fragrances. 

As you reached into your pocket to pull out your small folder of Berry, a large right forearm reached over your shoulder and paid the vendor before you could. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at the scowling grimace of your captain, Eustass Kid, baring his rage down at you. Attempting to roll your eyes at him again, you clenched them tightly shut instead as the world became far too bright to process.

“Captain,” you acknowledge him with a clumsy nod, fighting the urge to not to fall over with the vertigo overcoming you. He growled at you immediately, gesturing to Wire beside him to gather the supplies and walk back to the ship. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ idiot, aren’t ya, Doc?” he spat, scolding you with his heavy growl. You laughed at him, shaking your swirling head and beginning to walk beside him. Your overexertion and sleep deprivation caught up with you as you tripped over an uneven divot in the rocky path.

“I'm not into degradation, Cap,” you respond in a half-joking hum, your eyes feeling heavy and weighted, “Not my kink. Might be yours, though, considering the amount of times I yell at you to hold you accountable.” That comment earnt you another low growl from your captain, his face turning a few shades darker than his hair. 

He turned to face you at his side, his lips curling as if to speak. As he opened his lips, he was lost for words as you fell into him, bracing yourself against him to steady your walk. He caught you in his right arm, bringing his face down towards you and brows knitting with concern. Turning towards Wire, he cocked his chin to the side to usher him on towards the ship. 

With no further warning, Kid dipped at the knees and hoisted you up into his chest beneath your thighs. He curled his bicep and hooked your head beneath his chin and cradled you firmly into him. Under usual circumstances, you would’ve fought this tooth and nail.

You do not enjoy being manhandled by the crew, especially by your captain. While you enjoy the embrace once in a while with your more sensitive crewmates, particularly Bubblegum, the Captain has only ever been this close to you when he’s sparring with you.

“C’mon Doc, I'll get you seen to,” he grunted down at your position curled into his chest, “I’ve-... And the-...” his words trailed off, the fever raising your temperature higher and prompting you to seek out sleep against his pectoral. 

Voices and words fade in and out of your ears, a slow drawl and murmurs of several of your crewmates swelling around your assumed resting spot for the day. The room wasn’t physically moving, even though your vertigo suggested it was. 

“When was the last time Doc’s had a day off?” you recognised the feminine voice of Quincy in the room beside you. Several grunts and incessant babbling reverberated around the room, prompting you to flutter your eyelashes open and push through the pain. 

“Doc!” you cringed as a body almost flew into your bed, sitting on the plush sheets beside you, “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you’re up!” You wince, slowly waving Bubblegum away, swatting at his zig-zagged head.

“Off, off,” you shooed him, wincing as you shrugged your duvet off your thighs and swung your legs over the side of the bed. As you began to wobble to your feet, the booming voice of your captain called over the chatter of the room,

“Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?” he growled, striding over in intentional steps and giving you a shove from his right hand in the middle of your chest, “The medics here said you need a week in bed to rest. Sit down.” You growled at him, doing your best to gather the strength to growl at him. 

“If I’ve been prescribed ‘rest’,” you began, gesturing to the crewmates surrounding your current room, “Why the fuck are you all here?” Several sheepish mutters surround the room, a few members pinching the scruffs of their necks, a few more wringing their hands in front of their waists. 

Your captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down and wrangling you into your bedsheets. Refusing to go down without a fight this time, you wriggled in his grip and fought both the fever and the strong arm of your captain. 

“For fucks sake, Doc!” Kid yelled at you, pushing and shoving you down into the very comfortable and unfamiliar bed in front of the crew. “Just lay down and rest, damn it! Go back to sleep.” You wriggled harder. 

“No!” you yelled defiantly, kicking off the duvet and fighting each and every time your captain attempted to shove you into your bed. Kid looked around to the crew, angled his chin sharply to wordlessly order them to leave the room. As they left, Kid turned back towards you and crawled up onto the bed. 

“You are more of a pain in the ass than that fucking bullet to the buttcheek,” he growled, climbing over you and baring down his weight onto your smaller frame. Straddling your thighs, he placed his knees on your open palms and successfully pinned you beneath him. He pressed his forearm over your chest and gave you a firm shove to force you to lay down. You had no choice but to thump your head back into the plush pillow behind your head. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you clench your jaw and growl behind your lips. The rumble in your throat hurt the raw swell in your jugular, but you pushed past it to air your frustrations at him regardless. The chuckle from your captain above you only served to propel your anger to rise higher. 

“Yeah, yeah. Growl and groan all you want,” he scoffed at you, pinning your chest with his bicep while reaching his hand between you and gathering the blankets in his fist. Slowly raising it up, he continued his place straddling your thighs until he thought you would no longer fight him. 

“Why are you doing this, Captain?” you snarl at him, finally opening your eyes to gaze up into his eyes. He smirked at you in response, pressing his palm to your forehead and clicking his tongue at the temperature. 

“Because,” he leaned over to the bedside, taking two small spherical tablets into his hand, “We love you, Doc.” He leaned back over you, gesturing with his chin for you to part your lips. You take a moment to snarl at him before complying, parting your lips and allowing him to place the bitter tablets on your tongue. 

He leaned back over to the bedside, finding a glass of water and bringing it down to your lips. Tilting the glass slowly as it brushed with your bottom lip, he carefully fed you a sip of water to take the pills with. Placing the glass back over on the table, he drew his attention to the small amount of water seeping from the corner of your lip.

“Now, be a good Doctor and get loved on, idiot,” he softly huffed, his voice low and husky as he leaned forward. He used the pad of his thumb to gently collect the spill of water from the corner of your lips. Your eyes never ceased its glare up at him. He grinned tauntingly down at you, arching his brow and ensuring you swallowed the tablets. 

“Get off, Captain,” you growled at him, bucking your hips up in an attempt to remove him from your body. He cackled his rumbled laugh down at you in response, shaking his head. 

“You gonna get up again if I do?” he asked, leaning down and caressing your cheek in a gentle stroke. His eyes held nothing but mischievous mockery, but his hand felt like it was gently coaxing you to comply with what he asked. 

“No, I’ll behave,” you snarled at him. His laugh was genuine this time, low and gentle. Slowly backing off you, he slid off your body before adjusting the sheets and smoothing them over. 

“Good,” he nodded, beginning to leave the room by the door off to the side of the room. Halting at the door, he fought with himself for a moment before looking at you over his shoulder and uttering, “I’ll-… I’ll get Kil to check on you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?”

What he said next was something you weren’t expecting to come from his lips. In all the time you served with him, he only ever called you ‘Doc’, or ‘Doctor.’ You were your title, and you appreciated that about the crew. You were Doc, only ever Doc. But what he said changed all that.

After he uttered the word “okay,” it was immediately followed by your name. Waiting a few moments, you responded in a cadence just above a whisper. 

“I’ll be right where you left me, Kid,” you replied with a soft smile back at him. He closed his eyes, offering you a reflection of your smile in return before it grew back into its usual mischievous face. 

“Good,” he again offered you, scrunching his nose up at you and looking up through his red eyelashes at you, “Otherwise I would’ve gotten your doting daddy to come coddle his whiny baby.” Your eyes went wide, your jaw clenching and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. 

Eustass Kid just laughed in response, exiting the room and giving you both the time and space you needed to recover. Your recovery was not only the flu, but of the second hand embarrassment that Killer must’ve relayed to Kid what he’d said to you in the consultation room. Either that, or you left the shell of your Den-Den accidentally activated from when you spoke with your captain earlier in the day.

Either way, you pouted as you did as you were told and huffed back into your bed and went to sleep: the paracetamol activating and stilling your swelling head and masking the undertones of pain in your body.

[midnightwriter21]

can we have the first meet soulmate thing for sorcerer! reader please?? w gojo only

jjk hcs: satoru meeting sorcerer!soulmate!reader

characters: satoru gojo x reader, megumi (mentioned), yuji (mentioned), nobara (mentioned)

warnings: u kill a cursed spirit, possible injury but not rly, mature language (reader cusses gojo out lmfao), the kids & reader lowkey bullying gojo lol, gojo is kinda suggestive at the end

AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed somewhere on your body!! read the non-sorcerer version HERE

SATORU GOJO

being called in as back up for a mission involving a 2nd grade cursed spirit was not on ur to-do list today

but guess where you are!!

an empty mall!!

an empty mall where you’re currently watching 3 teenagers run around like headless chickens

the curse is ugly… as most of them are but..

this one is NASTY looking

several different colored eyeballs sticking out of various places on its body

it’s oozing some sort of greenish brown liquid

and the smell

dear lord it’s bad

the poor pink haired kid is simultaneously holding his nose and trying to fight the curse with one hand

and it’s main attack seems to be the ability to spit that greenish brown liquid at whoever it’s attacking, rendering them immobile

almost like a glue trap for mice

the curse backs the three kids into a corner and prepares to spit that sticky liquid at them

and that’s when you decide to make your entrance

jumping from the second floor of the mall, in front of the kids, and drawing your weapon

you block the attack and jump towards the curse

severing it’s head and therefore exorcising it in one quick movement

you sheathe your weapon and turn to the kids, “why the hell are you three taking on a 2nd grade mission?”

the pink haired boy from earlier explains, “our sensei was supposed to be with us but when we split up he went to the food court… and uhhh… we haven’t seen him since.”

you give the kids a sour look, “your sensei must be a complete moron”

all at once the kids agree

“he is” -the girl with the hammer

“yeah, pretty much” -the boy with the black spikey hair

“i mean.. kinda, sometimes” -the pink haired boy

you sit the kids down on a bench so that you can check over them and access any possible wounds

mama bear mode activated.

you ask the boy, who you now know as megumi, to get in touch with his sensei

when his sensei answers the phone, megumi explains that the curse has been exorcised

but before he can explain about your presence, you snatch the phone from him and let out a string of expletives directed towards the man on the other end

“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“

before you can continue you hear the dial tone

he hung up on you

without even saying a word

nearly growling in anger you shove the phone back to megumi and move over to yuji

you take his hands in yours and begin to wrap his hands in bandages saying, “you know, if you keep punching through walls you’re going to end up really hurting your knuckles”

as you wrap his hands you’re not really paying attention to your surroundings, so the smug voice coming from behind spooks you a little…

“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”

he’s throwing your own words back in your face

whipping your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash, you prepare to launch into another ass chewing

but your words get stuck in your throat when you’re met with a tall, blindfolded, white haired man

a man known to everyone in the jujutsu world

Satoru Gojo

in response to your stunned silence he lets out a chuckle, “what? cat got your tongue, pretty?”

his mocking snaps you back into reality as you fire back, “no, i’m just surprised on how someone like you can be such a complete and utter dumbass!”

“awww cmon is that the way you’re supposed to talk to your soulmate?” he smirks down at you

you give him a confused look before it hits you

his first words to you from earlier…

“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”

those exact words are printed on your back underneath your shoulder blade in neat handwriting

looking up at him with wide eyes, you watch as he turns his back to you, pulling off his uniform jackets and lifting up his shirt

ignoring the faint gagging sounds from his students

and there it is, printed in the exact same spot as yours, in your handwriting

“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“

“no. fucking. way.” you say in disbelief as he turns back to face you

“you have a dirty mouth, sweetheart,” he leans in and whispers softly in your ear, “can’t wait to see just how dirty it can get,” he leans back and says in his normal voice, “but we’ll save that for later!”

[howdoyousleep3]

Pairing: Daddy Steve/Baby Bucky Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 4.4K Tags: Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Drunk Sex, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub Relationship, Brat Taming, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent), Dirty Talk, No Prep (there is an obscene amount of lube though lol), Spanking, Anal Sex, Manhandling, Feminization, Rough Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Light Subspace, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Spitting, Coming on Face, Ruined Orgasm A/N: It's about time. The current state of my life and my mental health called for a mean and selfish Daddy Steve who doesn't give a fuck. In this fic, these two rely on their established relationship and deep understanding of one another. Daddy Steve has never talked or acted like this. Bucky loves it even if he is frightened by the thrill of it. I hope you trust them and love it too. ❤️

Read here on Ao3

“Listen, Buck— I’m going out to dinner with my friends and that’s that.” 

Bucky isn’t used to being told no. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re just going to have to deal with it, baby. I’ll be home later tonight.” 

Bucky doesn’t react well to being told no. 

“I love you,” Steve had told him to obviously end the conversation, something akin to annoyance evident in his tone, digging into and burning at Bucky’s skin. Being told no feels like rejection, feels like betrayal, feels like nothing his Daddy should be forcing him to feel. 

So, Bucky hung up without another word, without a proper response. 

Without giving Daddy his “I love you”. 

If Steve wants to be mean, Bucky can be mean too. He can be mean even through the tears and through the sting of rejection and through his admittedly unnecessary pouting. So, he ignores Steve’s calls, ignores his texts, ignores his warnings. 

Buck…

Don’t do this. You know this won’t end well. 

Pick up the phone, Bucky. 

He goes about his night alone at home, ignoring Steve’s attempts at communicating, at apologizing, at getting back onto Bucky’s good side. He orders takeout and ignores the immediate urge he’s met with to order Steve’s meal of choice as well; he doesn't deserve it. He drinks half a bottle of red wine as he scrolls through Instagram, watches reruns of Real Housewives of New Jersey, and waits for his food to be delivered. 

By the time he’s done with his meal, he’s finished off the bottle of wine and ignored three more of Steve’s texts and two more calls. 

Why are you being such a brat? 

Pick up the damn phone.

You’re fixing to piss me off, Buck.

Daddy’s been drinking. 

Bucky decides to shower. He takes a long, hot, luxurious shower. He shampoos his hair twice, uses his expensive body wash that smells like pumpkin cinnamon rolls. He drenches himself in the matching body oil once he’s done showering, takes the time to put on his best skincare, his favorite oil for his hair. 

He feels like he’s floating on a cloud as he falls into bed naked and wraps himself up in their flannel sheets and heavy duvet. He doesn’t even bother going in search of his phone; he has no plans to respond to whatever Steve sends him anyway. 

Steve can kiss his ass.

Bucky is pulled slowly from his sleep. 

It isn’t in an instant or a sharp awakening; it feels like he’s being pulled slowly through syrup from his dream-riddled sleep by something curious. 

Bucky furrows his brow. Is that—?

It’s a noise, a consistent noise. 

A familiar, wet noise that immediately sets Bucky on fire from the inside out. 

The recognition of that noise forces his body and mind into a state of almost panicked awakeness then. A sharp wave of premature arousal wracks his body, something of a Pavlovian response, and it sends his heart pounding against his ribs. He opens his eyes and blinks a few times in order to help adjust to the darkness of the room, the lights from the city just outside their windows helping to keep the room not fully encased in darkness.

Once his eyes adjust, he finds the source of the sound immediately. 

He was right.

Steve stands within reach of Bucky’s bedside, close enough to touch, his cock pulled through the zipper of his pants and held in his hand. 

Fisting it.

He doesn’t even say anything when he locks eyes with Bucky, his mouth slightly dropped open and a sharp gleam in his eyes just past his glasses that leaves Bucky on edge, curious and hesitant and hot. He tries hard not to let his eyes drop back down to the sight of Steve’s impressive cock, digs his fingers into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself, but it’s useless. It’s always useless. 

He loves his Daddy’s cock. 

Bucky doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He watches on as Steve reaches for an open bottle of lube he must have pulled out of Bucky’s bedside table, watches on as he squirts some messily into his palm before reaching for his cock again. He tosses the bottle onto the bed carelessly. 

Something deep, deep within Bucky begins to grow restless. 

“Still ain’t got nothin’ to say to your Daddy?” 

Steve’s voice cuts through the air and the tension like a hot knife through butter. Bucky feels the bass of it in his toes, the bite of Steve’s growl curling around his neck. 

He curses himself for once again not thinking his tantrums through to the end, for thinking he ever stood a chance against his Daddy. 

“Yeah, forgot how much of a fuckin’ punk you can be when you don’t get your way.” 

Oh.

That’s how it’s going to be? 

The thrill of uncharted territory skirts up Bucky’s spine, the nervousness of the same curling into a ball in his belly. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t spoil me so much then,” Bucky weakly tries, but Steve only scoffs and strokes his cock harder, the girth of him making Bucky’s mouth traitorously water. 

“I’m not responsible for your fuckin attitude, Buck,” Steve bites out in a tone Bucky has only heard a few times before. It nearly forces tears to spring to his eyes, nearly pulls a whimper from the back of his throat. It also makes his balls begin to ache. 

He chooses not to say anything in response, but Steve fills the silence after a minute or two. 

“Thought about comin’ home to just blow my load all over your pretty face while you slept before crawling into bed, but…don’t know. Think I want you to be awake when I take out my anger on your pretty body.” 

Jesus. 

“Andy said I should do it, mark you up all over your face, maybe smack you around a little. But James said I need to take it out on your ass. And I gotta say…I’m keen on taking it out on your ass.” 

Bucky’s head spins. He grows dizzy from where he lays, his jaw going slack as that dizziness morphs into fuzz, into familiar heaviness. The erotic image of Steve sitting amongst his friends and discussing Bucky’s punishment pulls his hips into the bed beneath him, forcing his next few breaths to grate against the front of his throat. His dick fills out, chubbs up, fattens between his legs and in the sheets. 

Steve talking about him, about something so sexual, seeking advice from his friends on how to handle his baby— it’s all far too much to process at once.

The added layer of them all drinking, of knowing what Steve gets like when he has amber liquid slipping through his system, intensifies Bucky’s reaction. 

He’s certain Steve was spewing filth, was sharing intimate details of their relationship. He was surely discussing Bucky, what he likes and dislikes, how he reacts to Daddy’s decisions and hand. 

Fuck, Bucky shouldn’t find it so hot, but he’s damn near drooling for it. 

“Yeah, that’s right— it was a group decision. Had to tell ‘em all how bad you were bein’, had to explain why I was so fuckin’ fired up when I got there. You don’t even want to know the fucked up shit Levinson and Walker said I should force you to do. So, we decided on your ass, that your ass deserves the punishment.” 

Bucky will never be able to look Steve’s friends in the eyes again. Or maybe he will, but he’ll surely pop a boner the moment he does.

Steve’s groan is somehow thunderous yet low, long and drawn out, as he resumes stroking his cock, as he reaches into his pants and pulls his balls out. Bucky barely has time to whine at the sight before Steve is speaking again.

“But that works out ‘cause if I’m making you fuckin’ take it, I’m gonna be selfish about it. Yeah sure, I’m your Daddy and I’m supposed to teach you a lesson and make you aware of the consequences of your actions, blah blah blah—” 

Bucky’s not once heard Steve talk like this.

“— but not everything has to be a fuckin’ lesson. Sometimes I just wanna…just wanna make it hurt, lay you out a little bit. Don’t wanna make your punishment about you; I want it to be about me.” 

Bucky thinks for a moment that he has no footing, has nothing to grasp at to ground himself in the slightest. But Steve is his safety, is his other half; he’s safe here. He’s safe with Steve and he doesn’t need to question that. And because of that, because of the foundation of trust and love they share, Bucky comes to the decision that this? 

This is hot. 

It’s hot as fuck.

“Roll over,” Steve sharply and suddenly demands. “I wanna see that boy pussy I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking all night.”

Bucky whimpers, his legs spreading on instinct, his next few breaths shaking loose from his lungs. His noises sound almost like a hiccup, like a set of sobs, and he’s rising up onto his knees before he can think twice about it. 

Where he’d normally receive a noise of praise or appreciation, he instead receives a bark of, “Turn the fuck around, show it to me the way I deserve.” 

Bucky scrambles. At least he feels as if he’s scrambling, as if he’s moving quickly and awkwardly, but if the thickness of his thoughts and the difficulty of thinking a second ahead is any indication, he probably looks as if he’s lazily moving through molasses. 

Bucky still doesn’t get the noise or words of praise he’s used to when he’s finally turned around, when he’s got his back in a deep arch and his cheek pressed against the sheets as he faces away from Steve. He instead soaks in the noises of the sound of Steve beating himself off, the slick noise of his fist as he drags it up and down his— 

“You’ve been a little bitch tonight. The guys made me promise them I wouldn’t give into you the moment I saw your pretty hole, but fuck me— that’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” 

Bucky does moan this time, loud and ragged with tight emotion. His dick hangs heavy between his legs, achy from the suddenness and surprise of his arousal, and his hole clenches easily and involuntarily at the compliment. 

“Fuck, look how small it is, look how little that fuckin’ hole is. It’s a miracle I can fit my dick in there, my big fuckin’ dick. Your Daddy’s got a big dick, doesn’t he?” Goddamn. Bucky wants to shuffle around on his knees so he can choke on his Daddy’s big dick. He wants it in his mouth, on his tongue, in his throat. He wants—

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” Steve damn near growls, and the sharp sting of a slap on the meat of his ass shocks Bucky’s answer from him. 

“D-Daddy’s got a big dick.” 

“Yeah, that’s right— say it again. Tell me again.”

Bucky tucks his arms under his chest, spreads his legs even more, offering himself up. 

“Daddy’s dick is so big.” 

Steve chuckles into his next groan. “Fuck, I love hearin’ that.”

He listens as Steve moves next, hears him take a few steps, hears him shuffle around before Bucky then feels a cold glob of liquid hit his ass cheek. He gasps, jumps even, but Steve just moans and spreads the liquid across Bucky’s ass with his hand. 

Bucky doesn’t even have time to ask questions or think of how messy or obscene smearing his ass in lube is when Steve’s hands are on him like this. It’s as if Bucky isn’t there as a person, as if Steve is alone in this room with his ass, as if he were a toy. Daddy’s hand rubs the lube into the cheeks of his ass carelessly, smearing it around and covering him in the slippery liquid simply for the selfish enjoyment of seeing Bucky’s ass oiled up. 

So much for his luxurious, self care shower. 

Bucky’s head is so far in the clouds that he barely registers more of it being squirt onto his ass, the feeling of Steve’s hands rubbing and moving almost hypnotizing, but then Steve is rubbing it over his hole, circling it with his fingers and thumb, pressing his thumb into his hole as he moans. 

Bucky squeals.

These touches are indicative of Steve meaning what he said about this punishment being for him; these are selfish touches. 

The slap of Daddy’s big cock right over his soaked pussy makes him whine. But the feel of Steve then resting his cock between Bucky’s cheeks, of pushing his hips forward in a rhythmic motion draws his whine out further. 

“I’m gonna be mean about it because it’s what you deserve. What I deserve. M’gonna fuck this little pussy the way I want to, for me— don’t give a shit about you right now. You wanna come? Fine. But this ain’t about you.” 

Steve pulls his hips back in order for his hand to come down over Bucky’s wet hole hard, just the once and then three more swift times, spanking it and forcing another squeal out of Bucky’s mouth. 

“Fuck…!”

He’s barely able to jump away from the sting, barely able to feel the burn of such a harsh touch, before Steve is stepping close again and pressing the fat tip of his cock back against Bucky’s soaked hole. 

“You better bear down on it, baby— didn’t spend my sweet time training this pussy for nothin’.” 

Bucky’s body and mind come together for a moment of panic, mesh in an effort to preserve what they perceive to be Bucky’s safety that is in danger. It’s too fast, too quick; it’s not what Bucky’s used to. He gasps as he shrinks away from Steve’s touch, his thoughts getting the best of him and— 

Steve’s strong hand on his nape is like a warm blanket, like an off switch, even when it’s a touch that makes it difficult to breathe. 

“None’a that now. Bear down, here we go…”

Claiming. 

Breeding. 

Steve’s always shown mercy, is in tune with Bucky’s mind and body, holds Bucky as a priority in life and in the bedroom; that is what Bucky is used to. But that Steve is nowhere to be found in their bedroom shrouded in darkness tonight. That Steve has been pushed past the brink of the vast amount of patience he holds, has been filled with amber liquid that takes away his softness. He’s nowhere to be found as he spears Bucky open on his cock, as he uses his big hands to press into the deep arch of Bucky’s back and use it as leverage to fuck into him faster, harder. 

Bucky tells himself it’s a lot, that it’s overwhelming, but that it doesn't hurt. He’s used to sex; they have sex frequently. His body doesn’t need to be warmed up to taking Steve when he takes Steve on the regular. But rarely does he take Steve’s cock this fast, this quick, this harsh. His stream of noise is constant, is veering on feral in nature, and he all but thrashes underneath Steve’s hands and on his cock in response to being split open. 

“This is my fuckin’ pussy,” Steve grounds out between what sounds to be gritted teeth, and Bucky can’t tell if it’s a reminder for Bucky or filth for himself. 

Bucky can’t breathe. He chokes on his breaths, on his noises that won’t stop pouring out, his breaths caged up in his chest. Steve has his waist in a brutal grip, pressing his body further into the mattress, and with Bucky’s arms trapped under his chest it makes it cages his breaths up further. 

He wills himself to breathe, begs himself to focus and to open up his willing body to his Daddy. It’s not difficult for him to want this, even as they tread new waters together, but he is quick to come to peace with his body taking the brunt of this…whatever type of punishment this is. 

The only moment of mercy Bucky is shown is when Steve’s hips meet the curve of Bucky’s ass, and even then Steve only stills long enough to press and grind his cock impossibly deeper into Bucky. It’s as if he wishes to crawl inside of Bucky with a growl, as if Bucky’s body taking the entirety of his cock isn’t enough and he needs more than Bucky can give him.

Bucky feels drool on his chin. 

His blinks are slow and lagging, or maybe that’s his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“God fucking damnit,” Steve groans, his tone showing evidence of both relief and frustration, the smack he gives Bucky’s ass driving that frustration home. He jerks his hips back, pulls out of Bucky halfway before filling him up to the brim again. The lewd, wet noises of his pussy makes his cheeks burn in embarrassment, makes him moan at the easy slide and overwhelming sensation of stretch.

Bucky doesn’t know why he pretends to be a brat. A few harsh words and a smack on his ass and here he is face down, ass up for his Daddy. 

Steve pulls his hips back again, is quick to slide them back home, beginning to fuck Bucky in earnest. 

Bucky’s head spins. 

“Pretty fuckin’ pussy for a pretty fuckin’ boy,” Steve tells him in a rumble, rubbing his thumb around Bucky’s stretched and wet rim. 

On the other hand, maybe he should be a brat more often. 

Steve fucks him without mercy. 

Bucky is used to mercy.

He’s used to eye contact and pauses and little, “You good, baby”s. He’s not used to feeling the entirety of Steve’s strength pressed into his body, not used to feeling bruises form in the moment. He’s not used to feeling like Daddy is simply using him for his hole, for somewhere wet and warm to stick his dick and fuck into. 

This is different. 

This feels so good even if it is a lot. 

It has his emotions twisted up in his stomach. 

The way his body rocks forward with every brutal thrust, the force of the stretch of his pussy, the feeling of spreading his legs and being bent over for his Daddy; he’s almost embarrassed he can very realistically come from this kind of treatment. 

He doesn’t realize he’s saying things until Steve is laughing, groaning, the noise of it swirling around Bucky’s empty brain like a marble. 

“Oh sugar,” he moans long and slow, his hands coming down to cup Bucky’s ass as he fucks it, spreading it wide. “You got nothin’ to apologize for— none of that fuckin’ matters now that I’m inside’a you.”

Was he apologizing? He can hear himself now, the drawn-out, almost mournful noises he’s making as spit pools into the sheets underneath him. It’s all nonsense; he can tell that even though his brain is having a hard time processing his own words. 

“Stretch me out, Daddy,” he hears himself whine. “I’m sorry— M’so sorry! Make it better, Daddy.” 

Steve only fucks into him harder, the slick smack of his groin and his heavy sac slapping against Bucky’s lube-covered ass adding to the cacophony of noises swirling around the room and muddying up his brain. 

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“Daddy…” 

“Of course I fucking am. Who’s your Daddy?” 

“You are…you’re my Daddy.” 

Bucky feels a hand wrap roughly around his nape. His face is shoved further into the mattress. The force of the touch and the angle of his body makes him sob.

“Yeah? And whose pussy is this? Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” 

Bucky hiccups, sputters.  

“Daddy’s! S’Daddy’s!” 

His balls begin to tighten then, his groin stirring, the moment his hole relaxes and embraces the obscene stretch of Steve’s cock in full. Steve has always told him he has a sensitive sweet spot, a sensitive pussy, and this example is his Daddy’s checkmate. 

He bucks against Steve’s harsh touch and thrusts when he feels his orgasm rapidly build and stir. 

“M’gonna come, m’gonna…come,” he hears himself slur, a pitiful warning that he’s almost certain Steve can’t hear. 

“I don’t give a shit.” 

Oh.

He was wrong.

Bucky says the only thing that makes sense to him in this moment— 

“Come in my pussy, Daddy.” 

Steve roars, shoving at Bucky’s nape before letting go and reaching for his hair, all without pausing his thrusts. 

“Don’t you fucking do that. You motherfucker. Don’t do that, Buck.”

His orgasm must possess him, push him into doing things Daddy said not to do, because he’s immediately defying his Daddy and pouting out, “Come in my pussy, Daddy. Fill my pussy up,” just as his first spurt of come hits the sheets. 

It’s the only moment of his orgasm he is allowed to enjoy. 

He’s still coming, dick continuing to shoot off and body continuing to ride the waves of a shattering orgasm, when Steve pulls out of Bucky’s body and drags him to the floor by his neck. 

He hits the carpet with a thud and a shout, knees knocking and hands flying out to catch himself. He whines, cries, at losing such a memorable orgasm, at being pulled out of the experience of such, and tucks his chin to watch himself experience the end of his climax between his legs. 

“Open your fucking mouth. Look up at me.”

Even with his ruined orgasm, he listens easily. He’s slow to do so. He turns his head up to do his best to look up at his Daddy, but the tears in his eyes make it impossible to see Steve. 

He can see his fist though, see his cock as he uses his fist to fuck himself as they nearly come full circle for the night.

“You don’t let me come on your pretty face enough,” Steve accuses, voice hot and low, labored and barely audible over the ringing in Bucky’s ears and the sound of Steve aggressively jerking off above him. 

Bucky doesn’t respond, can’t bring forth any words in his brain. He sits there with his tongue out, tears in his eyes, hips doing what they can to rock from the aftershocks of his shattering yet unenjoyable orgasm. 

Steve groans and the noise hits Bucky right in the balls. He feels the result of it in his bloodstream, in his being, a noise that, at its core, is centered around Bucky being good. It’s gluttonous and selfish and sexy and Bucky could weep hearing it. 

He thinks he is weeping at this point.  

When he opens his eyes again, Steve is coming on his tongue. 

And then his cheek.

And then over his other cheek, onto his forehead. 

All Bucky can do is sob and moan, an odd combination that makes it sound like he’s begging for his life while also in heat. 

“Fuck, that’s good. Fuck yeah, look at’chu. Look at my fuckin’ baby. My baby…” 

Steve’s come feels as if it scalds his skin, the warmth of it both a shock and a comfort to him. Bucky lets it slide from his tongue, down his chin, has to close one eye in order to avoid a painful mess. 

He does nothing to fight against the urge to pout when Steve feeds him the last bit of come from the swollen tip of his cock, letting it fall onto his bottom lip. Steve’s fingers immediately follow it, two of them reaching forward to rub the mess into his lip, then across his chin. Bucky watches from the floor as Steve’s chest heaves up and down underneath his crisp dress shirt, his thick fingers pressing and smearing his warm come into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky chases after his Daddy’s fingers like a starving animal, gasping and groaning, tongue lapping up whatever Steve has to offer. 

Does he have no pride? 

Daddy answers that question with two fingers shoved in his mouth, stroking the back of his tongue so harshly Bucky’s left with no choice but to gag loudly. 

He still moans.

Steve lets out a long, happy noise that sounds like a sigh but feels like another groan in Bucky’s balls. It’s akin to the noise he lets out when he stands to stretch as the halftime show begins during the football games he watches on Sundays, deep and satisfied. He follows the noise up with a tight grip on Bucky’s jaw from the inside of his mouth, a hold on his teeth as he pulls Bucky further towards him. 

Where Bucky expects a kiss, he instead gets no warning of Steve spitting down between his open lips.

“Fuck yeah…”

He uses his fingers to spread that around as well, allowing for the combination of his come, his spit, and Bucky’s spit slip over Bucky’s bottom lip and slip down his neck before letting Bucky go with a bit of a shove. 

Bucky’s not used to this. 

Bucky thinks he’s fallen in love with Steve all over again.

His spent and heavy cock still hangs from the open zipper of his pants, framed by thighs that Bucky swears are the size of tree trunks from down here, when Steve lets out one last, resigned groan. 

“That was exactly what I fuckin’ needed,” he casually tells Bucky with more than a tap on his cheek. He turns on his heel and begins to walk away from Bucky and towards their shared bathroom. 

Bucky can barely follow him with his eyes, can barely hold his head up.

Steve’s sharp whistle rings in his ears. 

“C’mon, sugar— let’s see if you can wring another one outta me,” he hollers from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at Bucky. Steve almost sounds like himself again, as if he hadn’t just hate fucked Bucky to the brink of psychosis. Bucky thinks he hears the shower.

Maybe that was all Steve needed to get out of his system. 

Bucky begins to maneuver himself to stand, ass already sore and come still covering his face, when Steve snaps from the door of their bathroom. 

“Nuh-uh— you crawl to your Daddy, kid.” 

Maybe not.

[heartlilith]

DRUNK ASTROLOGY THOTS 👹

♠️If I could be ANY moon sign, you bet your ass it would be either Aquarius, Sagittarius, Gemini (you heard me), or Aries. I don’t want to be the mom friend anymore!!!! I want to be crazy!!!!

♠️My dear prominent Earth placements, aren’t you sick of being the mom friend? Don’t you want to go crazy?

♠️Pisces and Aquarius in the chart is sooo vibey. Like you are the definition of ethereal and calm. Plus you are so smart in ways that other people aren’t.

♠️^Actually, everyone that has a mix of the following: Aries, Sagittarius, Scorpio, Pisces, Libra, Gemini, Aquarius, Pisces … I be high key jealous of you guys, you’re so cool

♠️Taurus, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Capricorn placements are the definition of “Do no harm, take no shit”. I love you guys, you guys are the backbone of the zodiac.

♠️Any placement you think is “bad”, let me tell you something: LEAN INTO THAT SHIT. I don’t care if it’s Moon square Pluto, I don’t care if it’s Pluto in the 12th house, I don’t care if it’s Mars in the 8th house or Chiron in the 1st. LEAN INTO IT. OWN IT.

♠️This has nothing to do with astrology but growing up as a little girl I always thought every human being was beautiful because everyone brought something different to the table. What’s “ugly”? There may be 10 people that find you “ugly” for every 100 that think you’re beautiful.

♠️Speaking of “beauty”, don’t read too far into posts that say “indicators of beauty” or “indictors of high sex appeal”, sure some placements may indicate it but not everyone is going to find a particular person attractive even if the next person thinks they’re the MOST attractive. If people vibe with you, they vibe with you. And there will be people that do, trust.

♠️I love being around Air signs because as a Fire/Earth dominant, it’s nice to be reminded of how to let things go. I’m going to them for advice. Wait I just thought of something (💡) !!! The element you LACK is the element you should get advice from. BOOM.

♠️I love Lilith, she’s a bad bitch. She’s everything that goes against what women “should be”.

♠️If you have a Pisces MC, what job/career do you have currently?

♠️Spongebob was definitely a Cancer sun Pisces moon Capricorn rising

♠️Omg 😂😂😂😂 MR KRABS WAS A CAPRICORN SUN SCORPIO MOON SAGITTARIUS RISING LMFAOOO. I’m dead at the Capricorn 😂

♠️Love languages:

Aries - Physical Touch

Taurus - Quality Time

Gemini - Words of Affirmation

Cancer - Quality Time

Leo - Gift Giving

Virgo - Acts of Service

Libra - Gift Giving

Scorpio - Physical Touch (but also Words of Affirmation)

Sagittarius - Physical Touch

Capricorn - Acts of Service

Aquarius - Quality Time

Pisces - Words of Affirmation

♠️Water signs are friends with their demons, 3am comes around and they’re like “heyyy what’s up girl?”

♠️Cancer placements act like Aries placements when they’re hurt

♠️Fire signs in the 1st/3rd/5th/10th be so damn loud….. but the way they laugh >

♠️Virgo reminds me of the shocked pikachu meme 😂

[not-magdi]

"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+

Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4 min

A/N

This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3

---------

Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.

He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.

When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.

As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.

Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.

Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.

He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.

You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.

Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.

The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.

A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.

Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"

His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.

Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."

Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.

Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.

Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"

Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.

You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.

"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."

Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.

"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.

Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.

Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.

Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.

"Shit Pablo, right there!"

"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"

Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.

Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.

Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.

Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.

You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.

"You ok, Amor?"

Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."

Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.

"Goodnight bebé, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[lilislegacy]

Ok guys this is somewhat of a controversial take on Jason Grace’s powers. You can tell I was nervous writing this out because I used capitalization lol. Please read till the end

I want to start by saying I love Jason Grace. He is such a cutie. I adore him. And he is a very, very powerful demigod. And he is totally capable of very evil things, just like Percy. This take concerns a certain ability that a lot of people seem to think he has, but I don’t think people realize how unrealistic is. (I mean people can still hc whatever they want, it just doesn’t mean it’s canon.) Okay, here goes

There is absolutely no evidence or reason that Jason Grace would be able to control the electricity in our bodies. And here’s why…

I know so many of you really love that idea, and justify it by using the logic that percy can control people’s bodily fluids, so since jason can control lightning, he could control neurons and action potentials. But here’s the thing: The reason percy can control bodily fluids is because bodily fluids, like saliva, blood, and tears are largely made up of water, so he can manipulate the content of those substances that is water. And water is water. H2O is H2O. Percy directly controls all water. That’s his power.

Jason, however, controls weather. Which means he controls clouds, thunder, wind, rain, and yes, lightning. But just because lightning involves electricity does not mean he controls ALL electricity. He controls rain, right? Rain is water. But jason does not control all water. Just rain. Because it’s weather. And before you completely ignore what I just said about rain, and argue “but if he can control the electricity that causes lightning, he could control the electrical signals in people’s brains and muscles,” I see where you’re coming from, but the electricity in lightning is NOT the same electricity in our bodies. Unlike water, not all electricity is the same. Water is a basic chemical compound, in all its forms. Electricity, however, is the flow of electric charge through conductive materials, which produces energy. And those materials and types of energy vary. There are different types. The two we are discussing here are static electricity and bioelectricity.

Static electricity is the accumulation of electric charge on the surface of an object. Did you ever do that experiment where you rubbed a balloon on your head and your hair stuck up? Static electricity causes lightning when there is a buildup of electrical charge in the atmosphere during a storm. When the charge difference between clouds, or between a cloud and the ground, becomes too much, it creates a sudden discharge of electricity, which we see as lightning.

Bioelectricity involves chemicals. It refers to the electrical signals and currents produced within living organisms. It works through the movement of charged particles, called ions, across cell membranes, which allows for communication between cells, nerve impulses, muscle contractions, and various physiological processes.

So here’s the thing. Even if Jason could control ALL static electricity, which likely is NOT the case, it’s not even the same type as the electricity that makes neurons fire. And like I stated, Jason/Zeus has control over weather and storm elements, which may involve electricity, but does not mean he controls all electricity.

Okay besties, now before you show up in my comment section aggressively defending jason and assuming I think he’s weak, let me clarify: I am not saying Jason is not powerful as hell, or that he could not do some creepy ass evil things. He definitely could. For instance, he’s shown through his control over wind that he can manipulate air currents in various ways. MEANING he could create a vacuum effect, and suck all the air out of a person’s body. Like… HELLO? He could collapse their lungs. Deprive their brain of oxygen. He could repeatedly suck the de-oxygenated air, aka CO2, out of their lungs, and then force it back in. Which would be torture. Death by slow suffocation. So using his control of wind and air currents, Jason could be terrifying as hell if he wanted to be, and could do unspeakable things to human beings. I’m simply saying that his ability to summon lightning has absolutely zero connection to the hypothetical ability of being able to control people’s neurons. They’re not even somewhat related processes.

Please don’t yell at me. I love Jason. I think he could be very very scary and evil if he wanted to. Him as a villain would be catastrophic, and I’m not doubting that in any way.

[honeipie]

I love love love your bakugou works! i was wondering if you could write something about him and like izuku, eijiro, shoto, and the reader all being firefighters. i just think ab katsuki in that black tank and the fuckin firefighter pants😋

24 HOURS

katsuki bakugo x reader

synopsis: dating your coworker can be fun sometimes

authors note: tysm!! katsuki would be such a good firefighter tbh 🌞

3:00 PM

“okay this is weird” currently you were in the passengers seat of your boyfriend’s pick up truck on the way to the fire station. luckily, you had both been called in for 24 hour shifts at the same time. katsuki rolled his eyes turning down the street.

“what?”

you motioned over to the radio which was playing your favorite playlist. the playlist that katsuki would complain so much about each time you put it on.

“you haven’t said a word about my music since we’ve gotten into this car” once he hit a stop light you leaned over the middle console getting close to his cheek “what is going on? are you mad or something?”

he turned his head giving you the smallest, quickest peck on your lips “nothin’s wrong” you squinted your eyes skeptically as the light turned green.

pulling out your phone you went to text the firehouse groupchat.

———

y/n

my boyfriend is way to happy at the moment.. what’s going on

izuku

just know that you won’t like it!

kiri

oh he’s not telling you? brutal.

—————

you had just pulled up to the station when you had read the message “katsuki, not today” there were tires, ropes, dumbbells, and ladders sitting outside and in front of the trucks. katsuki gave your thigh a strong squeeze with a smirk.

“happy drill day”

drill day. the one day out of the month where the whole station of firefighters would get together and do drills over and over for a couple of hours. this was your least favorite day considering everything it entailed. of course you knew that you had to stay in shape physically. it was just wasn’t that fun when you already have a trail of sweat running down your back and ruining whatever makeup you at least tried to do.

5:45 PM

“i hate him”

“then why are you looking at him like you want to lick the sweat off his body”

“first of all gross, second of all i may hate him but i’m not blind” you watched the man who was facing away from you. he was currently showing some of the rookies how to turn their sled pull into pulling the real hose.

his back muscles could be seen shifting quickly as he tugged on the hose from the truck. when he was at the end of the hose his arms flexed for one final tug.

he dropped the hose with a loud plop. he placed his hands on his hips and you could see his slow, heavy breaths from there.

“well? i just showed you how to do it. wrap the shit back up and show me” all of them scrambled to get the hose untangled and back into the wheel.

katsuki turned to face you immediately noticing the way you weren’t training.

“why the hell are you here?” he looked over at mina who was checking something on her nails.

“well my boyfriend and best friend work here, and i’m bored, so i think you can put together the rest of the pieces”

“don’t you got people to revive or some shit?”

mina was an emt for the local hospital. her and kirishima actually met at a fire scene when she came over to check out some of his injuries, and the rest was history.

“look at you loud and wrong. i’m not on a shift right now so i decided make myself feel better about my career decisions by watching you people workout for hours on end”

katsuki shook his head clearly fed up with her and the conversation. you just had to pick her to be your best friend.

“just standin’ here?” he asked standing directly in front of you.

“i finished” you huffed out looking up at him. the heat from outside was already kicking your ass, but him being up close made you feel hotter.

“alright, it’s time to do farmers carry. two laps around the room with a minute break in between”

a frown rested on your face when you heard he wanted you to do more. it had almost hit the two hour mark and you were ready to wrap it up.

“i don’t think i can do anymore today. my body hurts”

he scoffed hearing your words “and you know who else’s body is gonna hurt? the people dying in fires because you couldn’t carry them out”

“i’ve done it before so i feel like that doesn’t count” you reached your hand out placing it on his waist “c’mon lieutenant, go easy on me? just for today”

you’d pulled the lieutenant card. sure, that was his rank and people called him that out of respect, but you? you just did it differently. the way you enunciated the ‘t’. the way you’d touch him, because you always touched him when you said it. this was a rare pull so you must’ve been tired.

katsuki raised his eyebrow at your words. a smirk creeped onto his face before he leaned down giving you a long kiss.

mina’s face scrunched up in disgust, and the rookies just mumbled about how his demeanor switched so fast.

when he pulled away he whispered softly in your ear “you just earned yourself another lap. now get those dumbbells and get to work” he turned going back to check on the rookies’ progress.

“well that backfired” mina kicked her feet against the mat.

“yeah, ya think?”

so you the farmers carry, then worked on the stair machine for your last exercise. after that you made your way over to katsuki. he was watching the rookies start on their cooldown stretches.

“i actually finished this time so i’m going to take a shower” you gave him a sharp pat on the back and went to leave, but he grabbed you wrist dragging you back.

“you mad?”

“hm.. not if i smell okonomiyaki when i get out the shower”

you moved your hand away continuing your walk to the bathroom.

6:45

“thank you katsuki”

he only grumbled in response taking a bite of his. kirishima frowned in the corner arms crossed against his chest “why didn’t you make us any? we worked out hard too”

“not enough ingredients”

izuku sat beside you drinking his smoothie “y’know i hate liars. i restocked that pantry yesterday”

mina stood beside kirishima one arm wrapped around his waist “i could give you some of those leftovers from last night”

kiri shook his head “nah, i don’t really want that-“ he shifted his head to see mina giving him a look “oh! no yeah i want that” the two retreated back into the station with nothing more than a wave. shoto almost broke his neck watching the two go inside.

“they’re not gonna have sex in the kitchen right?..”

“no! not in the kitchen. maybe that big closet on the way, but not in the kitchen” you put the last bit of okonomiyaki in your mouth “i’m actually surprised you caught onto that”

“i know right? got the social cues of a fuckin’ boulder”

“katsuki that’s not funny” but the smile on your face gave away that it was a little funny. all was interrupted when a car pulled into the station. all four of you got up to see who it was. a woman got out of the car and made her way to the other side.

“hi! i’m sorry to cause you the trouble, but we’ve done everything and can’t get it off” she opened the door to reveal a boy, about seven years old, with his arm stuck in a water jug “i asked my dad what to do and he said you’d be able to help?”

you all had to stop yourselves from laughing when he struggled getting his arm out of the car.

“don’t worry about it ma’am. we can get that thing right off” you assured her with a smile. izuku had already went inside to get a pair of pliers.

“i know it’s stuck, but can you you still feel your arm? move it around without any pain?”

as you asked he lifted up his arm and slammed it back down into his side. the force took him by surprise and he ended up falling over “i’m okay!” he went to get up his mother assisting him.

“stop being a fool and answer the nice lady’s question please”

“my arm feels fine”

10:00 PM

“alright,” you placed your cards down onto the table and started to rise “i’m gonna head to sleep”

the crew mumbled quick goodbyes already setting up for another round. you made your way through the station until you reached one of the bedrooms. slowly, you opened the door making sure to not make too much noise. after closing it once more, you went to strip out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

“scoot over”

a grunt left katsuki as he rolled over to one side of the bed. it was no surprise that he was already asleep. this man worked like clockwork. exactly at 8:30pm every day he would stop whatever he was doing and head up to bed.

you crawled up next to him wrapping your arms around his torso. katsuki didn’t care about that big spoon, little spoon stuff. all he wanted to do was get comfortable and rest.

your head rested on his chest listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“i hope we don’t get any calls tonight”

“me either”

4:00 AM

“i knew you’d like this one”

you had bent over laughing at the sight before you. a teen had gotten stuck in one of the baby swings, so they had to call to get him out. you were asleep when they got the call and katsuki refused to tell you what it was.

“how does this even happen?” you tried to subside your laughter walking over to go help kiri get the poor, embarrassed teen out of the swing.

“it was a dare! i couldn’t back down the stakes were too high”

you wrapped your arms under his armpits while kirishima got around his calves. you counted down from three then started to pull him out of the seat.

“what is more embarrassing than this?”

“asking my crush out in front of her whole lunch table”

“well hopefully her whole lunch table doesn’t see that recording” you nodded your head over to his friends who were videotaping the whole thing. the teens started to go back and forth as you wiggled him out.

after making sure there was no little injuries on him katsuki walked over “all of you should get home. we decided not to call the cops, but someone else might”

they all nodded their heads in understanding waiting until you turned around to whisper “i should’ve gotten myself stuck. she was bad as shit”

you cringed at the words, but katsuki let out a loud laugh. you slapped him on his arm going over to the truck “it’s not funny!”

3:00 PM

you hopped back into katsuki’s pickup with a smile on your face “another shift completed. i can’t wait to go home and get a good nights sleep”

he threw both of your bags into the backseat before getting into the driver’s seat. after the early morning call, there were a few others. a couple of bush fires, and people stuck in an elevator. safe to say, you couldn’t wait for your two days off.

“i bet you can’t. got a hot date with one of those boys? if i remember they called you bad as shit?”

you rolled your eyes at his little joke.

“shut up! you promised you wouldn’t bring that up again”

he shrugged a smug smile on his lips as he pulled out of the lot.

“can i play my music?”

“fuck no”

“katsuki!”

taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾

lmk if you want to be added