#my drains were killing me and my dumb ass would try to sit up on my elbows and OUCH OW ABORT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laylauganda · 6 days ago

Text

Hanahaki disease.

For my two best friends. Hanahaki disease is a strong metaphor for untold and hidden feelings, you keep inside you until the rose petals inside you start to smother you and slowly kill you. In this story, the disease is more like a legend and you could never expect to actually get it.

There are gonna be POV’s for each one of us. Enjoy, i love you girls♡

School is draining and absolutely tiring. One thing’s good, being able to be with them.

The three girls named Lada, Sushi- a nickname she has for so long and Naty. Such a good friends, knowing each other since elementary school, always promising not to leave each other’s side. They would tell each other everything, right?

To better understand the story, there has to be POV’s.

Sushi’s POV:

I had a reason to go to school, well.. was it dumb

Of course my friend group was awesome but more people started adding in and I missed my big three. Me, Lada and Naty were divided into different classes and in my class..

there was a boy

Not just any boy, the guy who made me laugh my ass off from afar and who I absolutely adored. His name was Han and was he beautiful.. the big boba eyes and his chaotic behaviour was something everyone would say makes him gorgeous, right? The problem is that I never really talked to him, he’s popular in boy’s side of the classroom and he probably can’t even talk to women..

Today it was biology and we had to make pairs for our project, well that’s what i thought

“So, students! I am gonna make the pairs for you!” Said the teacher and i sighed.

‘is she fucking me? I was planning to be with my friend’ i thought in my head.

i looked around the class, worried.

“Okay! You are gonna get paper with a number, 1-15. If you match a number, that means you’re in a pair for the project!” the teacher said

i forgot to mention, it’s a project you can’t do in classes but in your free time, just great.

the teacher started walking from desk to desk, handing papers. “It better be someone smart, miss. I am a busy man” he said, obviously the one speaking was Han. He always seemed to try make everyone laugh.

i got the paper and i unfolded it. four.. okay, that is my lucky number after all.

i looked around the classroom, seeing pair of hands flash up. “Who’s my four!?”

are you kidding me? Out of all of them I GOT THE MOST HANDSOME AND ANTI-WOMEN GUY?

he stood there with proud nod and smirk, Han’s eyes quickly searching for his match.

I raise my hands slowly. “me?” I say with more like quiet voice. Han’s boba eyes shoot in my direction, smirk on his face. He got up from his desk, making his way to mine until-

“Ehm.. sit down everyone! You will talk about your project after class!” the teacher said. she really pisses me off these days

I look at Han with apologetic eyes and the teacher turns away from us. he sticks his tongue playfully at the teacher and i giggle quietly.Han proudly smiles to himself, probably because he made a girl laugh.

after class i pack my things

tap tap.. i feel fingers tapping my shoulder. I quickly look up with a shocked gasp. Oh.. it’s him

“hey! I am han and I heard we got the project together” han says with a bright smile. “you’re…”

“my name is Sushi.. a nickname for Sofie” i say. Han nods and pulls out his hands to get a handshake with me.

“okay, Sushi it is…” Han says as he nervously looks around.

“Should we exchange numbers? We can talk about the project and stuff” i say to save the situation and Han nods, handing me his phone whole i hand him mine.

me and Han decided to meet on Saturday at my place. Exact time was 4pm, not too late and not too early. Since we exchanged numbers, han seems like he doesn’t take it too seriosly. It would be okay if this wasn’t the project making half of our final grade.

4:30 PM… where is he? Should i text him?

5 PM.. is he okay? Where the fuck is-

“I’m at your door” a text message pops up. After an hour? Too early.

i open the door for him. he smiles at me and waved a little as he gets in my house. Weird.

“Where can i sit?” he asks and i point at the sofa. “Here, please make yourself at home” i say.

“You know, you could be on time the next time” i say, still confused. Han nods and looks down.

“Yeah.. sorry, i had some things that needed to be taken care of” he says. “Do you have plans for this project?” He adds.

i nod and show him my ideas, he doesn’t really care about the project but.. atleast he’s funny.

“This one looks like weed, seriosly!” han says with a giggle. i die with laughter.

“WHAT?” I say with loud chuckles, it was a picture of a cell that has chlorophyll inside.

the night was long, full of his stupid jokes i for some reason love so much. Han joined me in actually working on that project, occasionaly stealing my ipad so he can write it in himself, ending up with a fight over my own device.

i catched myself looking at him with glued eyes. How can such an autistic boy be so attractive and cute?

meetings happened and after two more, next was at his place, next week. The week i was supposed to meet my friends. I decided to finish the project already, even though these meetings are gonna be something i will miss so much.

“What’s up, sexy. Whatcha doing here?” han says while smirking and blowing me a kiss, him ending up laughing at his own joke on the floor.

we eventually sit in his bed, laughing more than working.

“lock in, yeah?” Han says, compressing a laugh, slightly looking in my direction and bursting out with laughter.

“CAN YOU STOP?” I say, trying not to pee my pants as he keeps adding the jokes up.

“Then you no talking now” han says and he covers my mouth with his palm, signalling to be quiet, i roll my eyes. He was the yapping one this whole time, WDYM?

the meeting today was different.. atleast for me. Ifelt more close, clicking with the same stupid humour. But han.. was complicated. He was a mood maker for sure, but.. does he even care?

He was really nice, yes but also.. he never talks about his inner thoughts. I wonder if he would even see me as a friend.

“I think this is enough!” han says happily, looking at the project we made.

“See? It wasn’t that big of a pain in the ass” i say with raised eyebrows, happy he actually helped a lot.

“I think the every five minutes burst outs were the key. and that’s my pleasure, don’t thank me!” Han proudly says and pats my head.

“I wasn’t planning to but-“ i chuckle as han gasps with a fake upset sound. Shaking his head in disbelief.

It became a comfortable silence, something so soothing I could fall asleep. I heard Han’ breathing and maybe even birds outside, but that was possibly my imagination making me remember this moment forever. I got the balls to speak.

“Is this the last time we actually hang out together?” I asked, leaning onto his shoulder. Feeling han’s hand brush my back but quickly put away confused me.

“I- i would want to hang out later too… we can, for sure” han says. Han thinks she’s a great friend and a gorgeous one too.

After a few minutes, i decided to go home. Driving from Han’s house to mine. Noticing a notebook i accidentaly took away from him. I’ll give it back later

Next day in school:

the day was starting good and i was excited more than ever. It was for him of course. That’s what friends feel like.

I sat down in my seat, Han greeting me with a bright smile and wave. The class started and the day went well.

Before the last class, Han asked me if i wanted to just hang out while he worked on some texts. Han had a little band at the school with his friends. Of course i couldn’t say no. The class was torture, maths. After surviving the killingly slowly ticking 45 minutes Han sat next to me.

After few minutes i spoke up. “You can sing right?” I smirked at him.

“I am a god at singing, wanna hear?” He asked and i nodded. Hearing him sing almost made my sob. He had such a beautiful voice. I guess i’d never change my mind about Han being talented.

suddenly a girl was standing in the doorway. Clapping loudly. “Wow! Han, you have such a nice voice!” the girl says. what does she want?

“Thank you, i have an inspo for lyrics loss but i guess singing stayed with me today” han said proudly with a smirk.

“How about i’ll be your inspo?” The girls says with a almost annoying giggle, god i hate these.

“Careful, i can’t decline these offers!” Han says jokingly.

why doesn’t he talk to me like that? Why do i even care right? He’s just a friend. Nothing else. Just Han.

“You okay? You look pretty bored” han asks. I look at him with straight face.

you say that after smiling like an idiot at that girl

“Everything’s fine, i just wish you could actually focus on work instead of other things” i said, immediately regretting it.

“Was this something against me?” Han says carefully.

yes, idiot.

“Not at all.. why would it? I gotta get home early today” i say quickly, leaving him confused.

why would he look at her like that? He would never say anything like this to me neither look at me like that.

I arrive home, laying in my bed.

is he not just a.. friend to me?

*Cough, cough*

i decide to drink some water to ease up.

Two weeks later:

i was laying in my bed again, thinking about Han.

He wouldn’t want me like that, he wouldn’t get it

*cough, cough*.. this coughing is getting a bit of annoying. am i sick or something?

i cough again, opening my eyes slowly to see two rose petals in my hand.

what the fuck?

2 notes · View notes

deviltoys · 4 years ago

Note

Nishoya yuu and male reader are dating and yuu was flirting with girls, reader decides to pee on yuu and inside of yuu to show him who he belongs too.

— ‘𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻!’

nishinoya yuu x top!male reader. (wc; ?)

#a/n: sorry this was so short! I REALLY WANTED TO PUMP SOMETHIN’ OUT AND THIS WAS MY FAVORITE REQ AT THE MOMENT. hopefully it's not too bad, i have another noya watersports work comin’ soon ;)

warnings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, watersports, brat-taming (if you squint), daddy k., creampie, dumbification, exhibitionism, voyeurism, manhandling, sex in a locker-room.

once again, you were back at the same place as always. punishing nishinoya for fooling around with some younger females-- backside being fucked into the cold line of a lockers. your lips melted against the skin of his collarbone, tongue leaving small tender pecks along the nape of his neck.

his attitude always changed in moments like these, he would go from teasing you for a sliver of attention, to whining like a bitch in heat— coaxing your fingers to sink deeper into the back of his slender thighs.

he was so pretty begging to be ruined after ‘harmlessly’ hitting on other people, knowing you'd fuck him all nice and rough either way. you saw right through his innocent facade, but he was well aware of how to get what he wanted. every, single, time.

“yuu.” your tone was short; yet condescending. he could taste the lust in your voice, even more so when your tongue glided softly across his plump lips before slipping into his mouth.

he never did, truly get off talking to other girls. your thick cock was the only thing that could ever tame him! how could he resist the urge to be pile-driven into the locker-room floor after a draining practice? your poor boyfriend would never expect what was coming next though-- you were fed up with noya being the only one receiving pleasure and his recent behavior was the final straw.

“y-yeah...y/n?”

you merely hummed in response, the goosebumps littering down his abdomen told you all you needed to know. you let your left hand make it's way to his with a tug-- the right softly trailed along his waist. close enough to send shivers down his spine.

“i wanna try something, different. so pray that you enjoy this, m’kay?”

your words had him feverish, what did you mean? pray? fuck, he didn't care, as long as your cock was inside of him one way or another; you could use his body as you pleased.

you were going to use your boyfriend as a urinal.

edging your blatter all afternoon, consuming as much liquid as humanly possible, it wasn't easy. you had to ignore noya all of lunch break just to make sure he didn't catch on. not that he would ever guess what you had prepared for him anyway.

with his ass up, face down-- you ease your way into the tiny male, making sure to hold onto his hips for support. he wanted your cock so bad and now he had it.

a feminine yelp broke past his throat, his tight hole preventing your dick from going in any further past the tip. but you don't cease, killing what hope he had left for you to slow down; you push the rest of your shaft inside of him with the simple movement of your thighs.

soon noya’s pain clouds with pleasure, and his wails of agony turn into breathy moans. with your cock buried deep into his tummy and your knees spreading his legs to the point of no return-- he breaks. bruised walls are practically squeezing the piss and cum from your balls, and soon enough, your boyfriend realizes what the ‘suprise’ you had in store was.

“mm..fuck baby. you're always so greedy for all of daddy, so i decided to spoil you with all of my fluids.”

his whole body jolts forward into lockers each time one of your shallow thrusts kiss his prostate. your poor dumb slut can only babble out— ‘daddy’ with little pleas to fuck him harder. cock sitting so heavy in his guts, pee and cum sloshing around inside of his body.

little to yuu’s knowledge you informed and proposed that the girls he had been leading on, come and watch you use your boyfriend as a human urine disposal. you wish you could've seen the look on their faces, whatever attraction they had to the libero now moved to you.

they observed your performance from the other side of the wall, wishing you'd breed their pussies like you did his; stuffing him full of your sperm.

he had no choice but to cum right there and then, obeying his body's screams for release. feeling your blatter still holding one more batch of piss-- you slip your wet shaft out of him, a sharp breath signifying how you were about to relieve yourself on your boyfriend once more.

still intoxicated by how good you made him feel, nishinoya can just barely feel your big hands slap the right side of his ass. the sting of your skin on his momentarily inflamed the area before the milky patch of flesh was stained red.

“yeah, take it like the good whore you are!”

a lewd mixture of your leftover cum, piss, and spit dripped out of his spend hole and collected into a puddle at your feet. he was a shaking, stuttering mess— barely able to tell you had finished pissing all over his exposed backside. his body had abandoned any sensible thought in his brain; and he's unable to do anything but nuzzle his face into the drool stained floor, waiting to come down from his high.

“you won't be flirting with anyone but me anytime soon, now that every girl at the school knows yer’ daddy's piss drinker.”

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory.#𓉔 — works.#c; nishinoya #nishinoya yuu x top male reader #nishinoya yuu x male reader #haiykuu x top male reader #haikyuu x male reader #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya smut #dark haikyuu #haikyuu smut #dark blog #dark content

479 notes · View notes

gods-favorite-autistic · 3 years ago

Text

Incorrect Teen Wolf:

Allison: We can’t reach Stiles

Scott: Let me call him

Allison: Me and Lydia have already called him 6 times, what makes you think-

Stiles: Yello?

Scott: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three-

Scott and Allison, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks!

Stiles: Our turn, Lydia! One, two, three- vanilla!

Lydia, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Scott: Shit.

Allison: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Lydia: OH MY GOD STILES FELL OFF!!!

Stiles: *Gently taps table*

Lydia: *Taps back*

Allison: What are they doing?

Scott: Morse code.

Stiles: *Aggressively taps table*

Lydia: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Scott: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Allison: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Scott: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING STILES WITH ME

Lydia, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Lydia: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions?

Stiles: Put spaghetti in it.

Lydia: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you.

Scott: Put spaghetti in it.

Lydia: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two.

Allison: Put spaghetti in it.

Lydia: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

Scott, about Allison: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Stiles: Are we stealing them?

Lydia: New or used?

Scott: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Allison: Dammit, Stiles!

Stiles: What?! It wasn’t me!

Allison: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Scott!

Scott: Not me either.

Allison: Oh...Then who set the house on fire?

Lydia: *whistles*

Scott: You're a loose cannon, Stiles.

Stiles: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Allison: I think you play by your own rules.

Lydia: No way, he thinks rules were made to be broken.

Scott: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Stiles: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Derek is a loose cannon.

Derek: *smashes a chair*

Scott: What does 'take out' mean?

Allison: Food.

Stiles: Dating

Lydia: Murder

Derek: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Stiles: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Lydia: 'Prettiest Smile'

Allison: 'Nicest Personality'

Derek: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Scott: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Lydia: Is having a penis fun?

Scott: It has its ups and downs.

Stiles: Sometimes it’s a little hard.

Derek: It’s a pain in the ass.

Allison, covering her ears: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

Scott, trying to convince Derek to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong!

Allison: And loud!

Stiles: And grumpy!

Lydia: And oblivious to reality!

Derek:

Scott: Anyone d-

Lydia: Depressed?

Allison: Drained?

Stiles: Dumb?

Derek: Disliked?

Scott: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

Scott: Favorite horror movie?

Allison: It

Stiles: Saw

Lydia: Annabelle

Derek: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Scott: Bye Allison! Bye Stiles! Bye Lydia! Bye Derek! Bye Allison!

Stiles: You said ‘bye Allison’ twice.

Scott: I like Allison.

Scott: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.

Allison: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Lydia: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Stiles: I joined in on the dumb stuff.

Derek: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Scott: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Allison: Have everyone stand.

Stiles: Bring three more chairs!

Lydia: The most important ones can sit down.

Derek: Kill three.

Scott: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Stiles will and will not eat.

Allison: Grass? Yes!

Scott: Moss? Yes!!

Allison: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Scott: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Allison: Worms? Sometimes!

Scott: Rocks? Usually nah.

Allison: Twigs? Usually!

Scott: Derek's cooking? Inconclusive!

Lydia: How did you… test this?

Scott: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.

Lydia: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Derek: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

When Scott is the impulse control (also know as the “do not die and get arrested friend”)

Scott: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Allison: Several traffic violations.

Stiles: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Lydia: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Derek: Also, that’s not our car.

Scott: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Allison: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Scott: Three of us saw it, Allison. How do you explain that?

Allison: *points at Stiles* Sleep deprivation. *points at Lydia* Paranoia. *points at Derek* Delusional personality disorder.

Scott: Nothing in life is free.

Allison: Love is free!

Stiles: Adventure is free.

Lydia: Knowledge is free.

Derek: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Scott: Do you take constructive criticism?

Stiles: I only take cash or credit.

Scott: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated.

Stiles: Killed without hesitation.

Scott: No.

Scott, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Stiles: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Scott, with the tone of someone who is used to Stiles: Outstanding.

Scott: This is what I’m talking about people.

Scott: This is bothering me.

Stiles: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Scott: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

Scott: So what’s for dinner?

Stiles, staring at the food he just burnt: Regret.

Scott, tending to Stiles's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Stiles: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

Scott: I prevented a murder today.

Stiles: Really? How’d you do that?

Scott: Self control.

Scott: What are your goals?

Stiles: To pet all the dogs.

Scott: No, fitness goals.

Stiles: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Scott: Am I going too far?

Stiles: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Scott: Welcome, fellow idiots

Stiles: Hello, Scott

Scott: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Stiles: You underestimate me

Scott: Where are you going?

Stiles: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Scott: You love me, right, Allison?

Allison: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

Scott: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives

Allison: I wake up at 4:30 AM

Scott:

Scott: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

#comedy #humor #funny #lol #tw cursing #cw cursing #teen wolf #incorrect teen wolf quotes #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #allison argent #teen wolf lydia #derek hale #tw all caps

51 notes · View notes

bubblyhoney · 4 years ago

Text

soundtrack

warnings: sailor language, suggestive themes/mentions of sex, drinking, nicotine use, being tipsy/intoxicated. no graphic or explicit nsfw content besides basically tonguing and giving hickeys and an ass grab.

tags: karl jacobs x fem!reader

words: 1898

A/N: i wrote this thinking that both people in this fic are of drinking age; i’m not, but i thought it would be a cool idea. i can assume many adult gatherings feature alcohol, so yeah. drinking isn’t integral to the plot of this fic. also it is pre-(or post)pandemic bc it’s just a general rule of thumb to not have parties right now.

“Don’t, kill, me,” Karl warbles, setting down his bottle with a sigh. Freaks plays loud and tinny on the TV, album cover bathing those occupying the couch in a grayish light. Those occupants being just you and Karl. The room is lit with purple string lights and that one thrifted lamp with frogs on the shade he’d sworn was the best purchase he’s ever made. You’re sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, ankles crossed and a can of vodka seltzer swaying in your hand. The song changes to 20 Min by Lil Uzi and your foot bounces to the beat.

“What time is it?” You sigh, placing the nearly-empty can onto the coffee table next to your apple berry-flavored pen. He flicks his wrist towards his face.

“2:46,” he delivers, and takes a swig of the Angry Orchard in his hand. His sixth, specifically. The rest of the group had left roughly ten minutes ago, leaving the two loneliest people to drink alone. You, thoroughly tipsy, decided it was better to spend the night on his spare than pay $50 for an Uber. He agreed, of course. Why wouldn’t he?

Lifting onto your elbows, you just stare at him. He lifts an ankle to cross over the other and your eyes drop. What is his fascination with Spongebob socks?

“We should play 20 questions.”

“What?” His head swivels like a bobblehead and a giggle barely escapes your lips.

“20 questions!” You say excitedly, heaving onto your knees to look at him earnestly. “You go first.”

“Um, okay.” The song fades into Paper Planes and he bobs his head to the beat. “What’s your favorite breed of dog?”

“Shiba inu. Are you a virgin?”

The fucking tone of your voice makes him dissolve into giggles, hand pressed to his chest. You just shrug, reaching for the pen in the table. “Fair question, I think,” you say defensively. His chest heaves, but he sits up.

“No—no, I’m not a virgin.” His cheeks are red, but he’s smiling like it was an easy answer. Your mind floods with images of his long hair in your face, long fingers—a sweaty chest. You shake your head. “Okay, my turn,” he continues, giving you a weird look. “would you rather kiss Chucky Cheese or Ronald McDonald?”

“Karl!” You whine. “That is not how 20 Questions works!” You grumpily pull from your pen, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. Eughk. Apple berry sucks.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. The tell-tale guitar chords of The Adults Are Talking floods the room and his face brightens with a new question. “Have you ever been to a concert?”

“Yes, actually. The Jonas Brothers in 2009.” He wrinkles his nose, finishing his cider and dropping it onto the coffee table with a sharp noise. Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you dare badmouth my boys.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” He reaches for your pen and you give it to him with a slight pout on your lips that he glances at.

“Good. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” A grin climbs your lips.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His eyes widen and smoke curls out of his nostrils as he hands your pen back. You just shrug and pick up your discarded seltzer. “Gimme a sec to think.”

“So many places?” You tease, finishing the last drop of your drink and crushing it beneath your palm. He shrugs, mirroring you, and cracks open another cider. He seems to think, brows furrowing, as he pulls a swig from the dark bottle.

“Boat.”

“Boat,” you repeat.

“Yup.” He looks at you, gaze flickering to your lips imperceptibly fast. If you were sober you’d probably notice, but you’re not and you don’t.

“You’ve fucked on a boat?” No way. Karl Jacobs. On a boat. Having sex. What an image—

“Yeah, senior year was great for me.” More Than A Woman fills the space of the silence as you consider this. You blink, processing.

“Whose boat?” You're genuinely curious. Was it a yacht, pontoon, fishing boat? Row boat? The sudden scene of him getting his foot stuck in a fishing net while pantless clouds your vision.

“My girlfriend’s.” And that’s that on that because he’s moving on before you can open your mouth and continue the discussion of the logistics of this. “Stop investigating, perv. Now it’s my turn. Hmm— wait! Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?” A sneaky grin is on his lips and now you just want to kiss him, damn it.

“I-Uh. I think it was under the bleachers. I also had a great senior year,” you offer, scooting forward on your knees so that you’re only a foot from Karl. He looks impressed, actually.

“Who was it?”

Your eyebrow raises in question.

“Personal question or one of the 16 left, Karl?”

His cheeks heat and he looks once to the TV.

“Personal,” he mutters into the mouth of his bottle.

“It was Brian Hernandez,” you sigh, gazing off into the distance with a fond look in your eyes. You feel the end of the game of 20 questions as you see him chew on his bottom lip from your peripheral. “Dude was insatiable. Managed girls’ basketball and looked damn good doing it.”

“I managed girls’ soccer,” he says simply, uncrossing his legs. “My girlfriend was goalie.”

“How long did you guys date?” You fold your legs up underneath you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You feel the most sober now out of all tonight.

“Dunno.” He sips at his cider. “Couple weeks maybe?”

You smirk. “Karl Jacobs puts out in the first couple weeks?” That’s hot, you don’t say. He gives you a look. “18 year old Karl was a player,” you tease, leaning forward to poke at his chest.

Smacking your hand away, he sighs and lifts a hand to tousle his hair.

“Guess he was.” Clear eyes meet yours and you take a hit from the pen that lays discarded in your palm. He watches the smoke float from your mouth. The TV screen swipes to Deceptacon and the mood quickly shifts. “So.” He turns toward you with lifted eyebrows. “You were a total nerd in highschool, huh.”

Your jaw drops. “I was not!”

“Come on; yes, you were.” He makes a face and drains half the bottle of cider. “You probably were in SpellBowl and every teacher’s pet.”

“Nice try, bitch. You were a dumb jock. I’ve seen the pictures. The yearbook pictures.” You look pointedly at his hair.

“My hair was not that bad.”

“Yes it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he grumbles and pushes his hand through his long curls. “Just a little… short.” It’s your turn to make a face.

“A buzz cut nearly to your scalp is more than short.” He huffs at you and finishes the cider just as the song switches. “Anyways.” You don’t really have anything to say, actually. Too busy thinking about teenage Karl smacking tennis rackets around and fielding lost soccer balls for his girlfriend. She’s long gone, right?

“Are you wearing lingerie?” Karl asks suddenly and you look up. He stares pointedly at your chest and you move a hand to pat at your stomach.

“Oh,” you start, and flick the last three buttons open, fabric falling to reveal a baby blue lace corset. “Yeah.” He can’t seem to stop imagining what’s underneath it. Fuck. “Do you like it?” The tone in your voice is taunting and he has to look away.

He clears his throat and places the second glass bottle onto the coffee table.

“Yes.”

You rise onto your knees and pull your arms out of the button-up, letting it fall back on the couch.

“Do you want to touch it?” You're looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, he realizes, and you know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not asking if he wants to touch the corset; you’re asking if he wants to touch you.

“Can I?” He glances at you warily. You just nod, and it’s then that you’re shuffling forward. The material is soft on his fingertips when he brushes a hand across your torso. “Silk,” he mumbles, and stares, transfixed, at the loopy flower pattern crawling across your waist in shades of milky blue. You just hum and watch. He realizes suddenly when he traces a finger up on the ridge of the neckline that you’re not wearing anything underneath it. It makes him stop in his tracks, neck flushing. “Are-are you—,”

“Wearing a bra? No, I’m not.” You lay a hand on his shoulder, hoisting one leg over his thighs and settling down comfortable on his lap. He bristles then relaxes as you slide a hand up into his scalp. “Do you want me to show you?”

He glares at you, barely annoyed, and shifts so that his large hands rest in the curve of your waist. Poison starts in the speakers as his eyebrow raises.

“Do you normally wear corsets when we all hang out?” A lock of your hair moves past your cheek as he brushes it out of the way. His mouth tilts into a smirk. You seem to think about it, lips pursed, and grip both his shoulders in your hands.

“Only when I’ve got someone to impress.” A hand on your lower back presses insistently and you fall further into his lap.

“Who are you here to impress, Y/N?” He’s barely an inch from your mouth now, and can’t seem to keep his eyes on one part of your face. Cool breath fans onto your cheeks and they warm. God, he’s even cuter up close.

“You,” barely passes your lips before he’s taking the side of your neck into his hand and stretching to connect your lips with his own.

Cherry, you think. Cherry chapstick, that cheeky bastard. Taking your wrist in his hand, he loops it up and around his neck. You’re making a noise into his mouth, you realize, right as he’s sliding a hand down to the side of your thigh and gripping it between his long fingers. You shiver as he pulls away too soon, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before sinking his teeth into your neck. The gasp that leaves your mouth is surprisingly loud and your cheeks flush further. He just hums, pleased, and stretches an arm to the opposite side of your waist to hug you closer. Warm lips move on the skin of your neck and his tongue darts out few and far between the kisses.

“Fuck,” he breathes when your hips jerk forward once.

“Sorry,” you whisper up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. “reflex.”

He grins against your neck and moves to grip an ass cheek in his palm.

“Your reflex to me licking a hickey is to grind into my crotch?” he teases. You just have to nod, lips parted, as he soothes another bruise with his tongue.

“Karl.” He seems to either not hear you or ignore you for he’s removing himself from your neck and connecting your mouths once more. “Karl,” you stutter between kisses, and he squeezes at your ass.

“Yes?” His lips are bitten and puffy when he pulls away, a smug look on his beautiful face.

“Take off my corset.”

He looks between your face and the lingerie, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comment what you think !

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs one shot #karl jacobs drabble #karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x fem!reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt #mcyt x reader #bubblyhoneyfics

153 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

Text

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

#CherryLaneChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#tw self harm #tw attempted suicide #tw blood #happy October!#I’m so excited!#I’m gonna try to do all of this but I’m real busy coming up!#im not sure what vibe I’m goin got in this challenge #but I think it’s mostly haunting?#not scary but like that oh moment y’know

39 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

mine

— Dabi didn’t want you in the slightest, but he’d be damned if anyone touched you without knowing that you belonged to him

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: yandere!dabi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, gorey (blood and puss), branding, yandere!dabi, semi-public sex, consented sex that turns into nonconish, spitting, heavy degradation, hardcore, sadist!dabi, mindbreak

word count: 5,588

a/n: im so terribly sorry for being so late with kinktober. my keyboard is super fucked up and I had a crazy busy weekend. please do not read this if you are easily offended it got a bit crazy lol ;-; well at least for what i typically write sorry

kinktober day 17 main kink: branding | kinktober masterlist

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Dabi didn’t care about you.

As you lay on the broken, dirty mattress (was this even a mattress?) that belonged to who knows who and was in this alleyway for who knows how long, there was no telling if you wouldn’t contract some form of an STD just by laying here in your filth. You wanted to sit up. You needed to get out of this sketchy alleyway just to continue the day. But your body hurts, everything hurts.

But the tears in your eyes had long dried out. The blood, cum, spit, puss, and drool on the bed making for an unpleasant, pitiful sight beneath and on you.

But I guess there was no reason for anyone to try and take you, even like that.

There was already a warning, a brand for anyone to fucking try and take you from the person who owned you.

His name pulsed on every throbbing, bubbling white-hot pain on your body. His hands and name forever scarred and branded on your skin.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

But you couldn’t even cry as a black cat with piercing blue eyes landed on the mattress centimeters from your face. It was too much.

And in the middle of the alleyway, your eyes shut, and a painful unconscious slammed through you. Consciousness no longer your friend as you ended there, ass up, gaping, cum splattering hole available for everyone to see.

It didn’t matter, you clearly belonged to Dabi, and anyone who tried to take you would be consumed with a horrid fate.

Dabi’s mouth was pulled back into an angry, unamused snarl.

Typically speaking, the black-haired Frankenstein of a man could look more apathetic than the gods of apathy themselves, but if you bugged him just enough, things could sink under his skin faster than you could run. But today, he seemed to have every annoying thing happen to him event after event so that he was practically simmering with putrid anger.

It had started when you had left his room in the morning louder than he liked. You both had begun a sexual relationship of sorts. As much as the League was intent and focused on driving out the hero society, libidos and sexual needs could hardly be ignored. Especially as Dabi’s own libido grew with the more success he had, the closer he was to achieve his own goal. It made sense that he and you began this relationship. He wasn’t going to touch any of the guys in the group, not to mention the fact they were about as ugly as he was, so that meant he’d have to potentially stare down at a nasty face moaning and screaming. That wasn’t going to happen. Toga was a psycho bitch that Dabi could never understand, and with her stupid stabbing addiction, he wasn’t about to trust her near his genitals.

You had been a late joiner in the group, some dumb, weak, quirkless little bitch.

Dabi had no idea why Shigaraki had ever allowed you to join in the first place.

You added absolutely nothing to the group.

Being quirkless meant that you were a liability in any type of fight they got into because you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. You threw a mean punch, and you had been training with Toga in the weird-ass fighting style of hers, but it was stupid, utterly pointless because as long as Dabi and others possessed the ability to kill you without needing you near, you were a walking target.

You were also a terrible medic. Whenever the group would return with serious and not so serious injuries, you would scream, panic, and apply bandages terribly. It was so bad that Dabi would rather die of infection than have your blubbering form try to get anywhere near his cuts and burns.

You were a horrible liar too. Couldn’t send you into any of the Pro Hero bases or UA in an attempt to gather more information to help the group's efforts. Toga had merely transformed into a random citizen without you knowing, and your ability to be suave was a joke.

But one day, Dabi figured out why exactly Shigaraki decided to let you in, why you were someone worth letting live. He had gone to the bar for a simple drink. His head throbbing due to the fight he had gotten into while recruiting for the League. But what he came to see in that bar was that you were in the bar with Shigaraki and Kurogiri.

He looked at you as you were on your knees on the barstool. Your breasts swelling over that stupid tanktop of yours, your dumb ass shaking like a damn dog as you talked excitedly to Shigaraki. That, for whatever reason, bugged Dabi. The tinge of color on his stupid leader’s ears and cheeks also went noticed by Dabi, and suddenly as you grabbed onto Shigaraki’s shoulders, it all made perfect sense.

You were here to be made as a whore.

Dabi ended up leaving the bar without getting his drink after all that day.

But he had caught you skipping to your assigned room, and he blocked your way, his hand shoved into his pockets as you looked down at your wide eyes.

“So that’s the role you’ll play in the world of no heroes,” Dabi spoke, his lips pulling into a lazy smirk, warmth flooding his cold skin when your own face seemed twisted with confusion and worry.

“I’m not playing any role?” you speak slowly, obviously confused, but Dabi doesn’t dwell on the confusion in your eyes or the way you step backward away from him. He follows you, stalking your every move until you’re backed against the door of his room, your doe eyes large and practically screaming for help, which only seemed to excite Dabi. You wouldn’t be finding a hero in this organization. No, you either learned how to swim, drown, or take everyone down with you.

“Oh, so you’re not playing any games here?” Dabi asks, his hand slamming against the door right by your head, his head tilting as he leans in close to your face. He can basically breathe the anxiety spilling from your veins, festering, and throbbing underneath your skin as you find yourself unable to speak. “You joined our little group knowing that Shigaraki wanted to fuck you? Use you as the willing whore that you are?”

The fear drained from your eyes, and anger blazed instead, and for some reason, that only made Dabi more excited. He pressed up closer to you, the hardness of his cock, unable to be ignored as he pressed his swelling length to your hip.

“I’m not here to be Shigaraki’s whore,” you growled, your lips pulled back into a fearsome growl, but to Dabi, knowing the stupid, weak quirkless bitch that you were, made you look like some angry dumb puppy. “I’ve been just as wronged by this world as you have. Just because I didn’t burn off all my skin to prove I don’t fit in doesn’t mean I don’t have scars too.”

Dabi laughed, the smell of heat rising from his skin as he couldn’t help but display his power, couldn’t help but to warn you just who was capable of the most immense damage.

“Burn me,” you snapped, your nose nearly brushing against his. “Prove my fucking point.”

Dabi let out a throaty hum, the feeling of your stomach shifting against his tented pants, only serving to arouse him more.

“Trust me, pup, I don’t have all my skin burned off,” Dabi couldn’t help but ignore your own issues of being upset as his mouth crashed against yours.

That night, Dabi realized that maybe you did serve this group in two ways, albeit one was much, much more important than the other.

One, the lesser important reason: you brought in a new demographic. A new viewpoint of people who had been hurt by heroes and civilians who looked to All Might like a god. Quirkless people, and people with quirks that practically made them worthless, were seen as inferior because they weren’t unique. They could never be like All Might. And for that, they were seen as less, a group that deserved to die and were discriminated against for reasons far beyond their control.

Two, the more important reason: you were Dabi’s fuckhole.

This sexually frustrated, anger-fueled sex the two of you had was more than ideal, really. Dabi loved to fuck you whenever he needed, whenever he wanted. He took you anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Each time he grew bolder and bolder until he was fucking you during a meeting, fucking you while you were in a car with everyone, making your way to the next destination.

He could care less about your whining pleas to only fuck in a room where no one could see, couldn’t care if you thought the alleyway was dirty, and the scent of dead burning bodies made your head spin. You were a quirkless fuckhole, and you would do as he told.

But Dabi would never admit you were his.

No, he would not.

Not now, not ever.

But there was something stupidly irritating and annoying hearing barely useful members of the now Paranormal Liberation Front. Everyone was obsessed with you, the useless quirkless girl who was weak and needed protection. Everyone loved the way your tits bounced when you hopped around excitedly, loved the way your ass shook when you were sitting at a bar because, for whatever damn reason, you could never sit on your fucking ass.

So, that’s where we find Dabi. His mouth pulled back into an unamused, angry snarl as you talked with some nameless member that Dabi thought was better off dead than as some deadweight help.

“You can’t expect y/l/n-chan to be so kind to you when you’re quite the asshole to her, Dabi,” Compress chided Dabi as he took a smooth, slow drink from his sake. “You pester her daily, and from what the rumors tell me, harass her often enough that I’m surprised she hasn’t taken your face off.”

“She’s too fucking weak for that shit,” Dabi snapped, his eyes narrowing when your hand placed itself on the nameless shits arm. “She can’t do shit; that’s why she’s acting like a shallow whore. She’ll let anyone fuck her as long as it means she gets protected.”

Compress raised his eyebrow, his face not letting anything on as he slowly placed his glass down.

“Y/l/n-chan sleeps around?”

Dabi actually felt the heat rising from his skin. He didn’t know if you were, and the thought of knowing that someone other than him was fucking your tight little pussy after he did irritates him much more than he’d like.

“I don’t fucking know, you’re the one telling me about fucking rumors. You tell me.”

“From what I hear, she doesn’t give in to anyone, despite the obvious flirting,” Compress shrugged when Dabi’s eyes locked on him in bewildered disbelief. “Why do you care, Dabi? You’re typically so aloof and annoyingly stoic. What about y/l/n-chan makes you so temperamental?”

Dabi felt his spine stiffen at those words, the inquisitive yet entirely sharp words that gutted him from the inside out. Dabi didn’t care for you. He knew he didn’t. If you dropped dead in the middle of the floor in three seconds, he knew he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t mourn you. He might mourn the warm body he fucked whenever he needed, sure, but not you, never just you.

He blinked.

He didn’t need to like you for you to be his.

Heroes were what was wrong with society, but relationships were also what was wrong with people. The twisting desire for equality and equity between two different people when it should never be as such, to begin with. Dabi was powerful. You were quirkless and weak. Dabi held power, he was the one who should be deciding what you should be able to do, what you can’t, and something in the depths of his mind finally clicked.

You were his.

You belonged to Dabi.

You were nothing without Dabi.

The laugh that poured from your lips and the man next to you, that Dabi swore he could hear right now, suddenly made sense as to why it bothered him. You don’t entertain or try to use things that don’t belong to you. You use only what is yours, and anyone who tries to touch what belongs to you is allowed capital punishment.

But Dabi, against better judgment, wasn’t a trigger happy idiot.

No, he was aware of the things idiots needed to see in order to back off. To understand that some things were there for free, and other things were already taken. He laughed, grabbing the rest of Compress’s sake and downing it before slamming it onto the table and standing up, ignoring the angered curses from Compress as he stalked toward you.

There weren’t many things in life that made Dabi lose control of his emotions, but knowing that you were out in the open without a clear mark that you were his was slowly making its way on that list.

“Let’s go,” Dabi says, his voice perfectly calm despite the heat blazing off his every muscle. His hand was wrapped around your wrist, gripping your skin tightly as he tugged you from the barstool.

It didn’t take much for you to fall off the stool, your stupid way of sitting on bar stools allowed significant imbalance, and Dabi knew that a sharp tug is all it took to have you stumbling off.

“I was talking with Trumpet!” you cried, unable to keep from stumbling after Dabi, your eyes focused on Trumpet.

“I was speaking with y/n, if you would allow us to finish our—” Trumpet also piped up, his hands reaching to button up his suit as he stood.

“Shut up,” Dabi spoke coldly, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he took in his gaze.

With that, Dabi continued to walk away, dragging your protesting form behind him with every great stride he took. Dabi didn’t know where he was walking, only knowing that he was ignoring every question and angry demand that filtered out of your mouth like white noise. He took sharp turns, disappearing into the alleys that he knew all too well until he found the spot he was looking for.

You were panting heavily when you suddenly slammed into Dabi’s back, exhaustion already setting in your bones from the awkward run you had to maintain in order to keep up with Dabi. You weren’t an idiot; you knew that Dabi wanted to fuck the moment that he appeared behind you with a wave of hot air. But you hadn’t expected it to be while you were in the middle of a conversation with Trumpet; while he was an asshole, Dabi always let you finish your conversations before taking you to fuck. But not this time.

Which worried you.

Both of you had fucked the entire night last night. Your body had been abused in a million exciting ways as Dabi unleashed his libido onto you, and you had kept up swimmingly. Typically, a fuckfest like that was enough to satisfy him for a few days, two days at least, so to have him back on you within twelve hours was a bit of a shock.

The sun was still in the sky, after all.

“You really know how to piss me the fuck off, y/n,” Dabi spoke, his tone and words ice-cold despite the blazing heat of his body. “Why is it that you think you have the right to flounder yourself off like some common bitch?”

You freeze. Oh? Was he jealous?

You had no time to even open your mouth to ask, most likely having taken too long to answer his question because his hand flared with heat, and you couldn’t help the scream that ripped through your throat. Tearing your hand from Dabi, you looked down at your burnt, throbbing skin. Your eyes widened, pained tears in your eyes as Dabi turned around, his eyes blank, cold, lifeless.

“I’m not sure if I ever made this clear before,” Dabi asked, stalking toward you, and you whimper, holding your tender wrist to your chest as you feel something make contact with the back of your calves. “I don’t care about you. If you were to disappear the next day and never return, I wouldn’t care. Maybe I’d miss your pretty little pussy, but other than that… nothing. But you need to understand something for as long as we’re together and for how long we’re apart: you’re mine, y/n, just mine.”

Your eyes are wide, terrified of the monster before you. This wasn’t the Dabi that fucked you every night before this, this was someone else, and sour acid hits the back of your throat.

His lips are on you without hesitation. The biting coldness of his staples on his cheeks and chin burn against your skin, and his hot hands are against the cold skin of your waist, and you gasp loudly. His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you whimper, feeling how much colder his tongue was in comparison to yours. But you know what it’s like to share a bed with Dabi, you know that he knows of your bodies every twitch and innate desires, and like a trained dog, you cave to him despite the painful tears dripping down your cheeks.

His kisses are much like his fire, hot, encompassing, all-consuming until there was nothing left except the smell and taste of ashes and smoke. You fell to his needs immediately, the hot, swollen throb in your wrist going ignored as you kissed him back, wanting to taste the smoke on his tongue. So as the heat of his body evaporated the tears off your cheeks, you caved into his kisses.

Your wrist throbbed as your hands reached up and curled into his hair.

But the biting possessiveness of his body was all too apparent to you as his teeth buried into your tongue and sucked on it harshly. You gasped, your body arching into his touch as you opened your closed eyes to peer into his piercing lifeless eyes.

You moaned, body trembling with the wild desire to make him feel good, to make yourself feel good. But you fell, his teeth letting go of your tongue and his calloused, burnt hands pushing you onto the object beneath you. The mildewy mold scent of the mattress beneath you burned into your nose, somehow damp even though there had been no rain for weeks.

Dabi was on you immediately, his body between your legs, lips simmering against your mouth once more, and his hand on your throat. His staples scraped against your chin, the cold metal scratching into your skin until it hurt. You can’t recall the last time he put this horrible power on his grips, you felt your head beginning to spin with the slow, dizzying throb of losing all oxygen, but Dabi took no mind to your struggles; in fact, it seemed to be enjoying it.

“Come on, doll, kiss me back like you actually fucking mean it,” Dabi snapped, his hands burning even more against your throat, and the other made contact with your pants. Your clothes were burnt to singe, the smell of burning fabric had long been a scent you had been familiar with, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to cry about the clothes he just burnt off your body. “Stop acting like a little bitch,” he growls, obviously noticing your shift in character, “be a good doll, and do as you’re told.”

Despite the burning, stabbing feeling in your skin, and the way you couldn’t keep the silent tears from stopping you from doing as you were told. You kiss him back as you once had before, your jaw dropping and your tongue reaching to meet his.

Dabi growled, clearly liking the suddenly positive response from you, and you trembled against his hold. But, soon, a new scent filled your nose, a unique scent that aligned with the painful burning of flesh.

“You see, I don’t like it when things that belong to me don’t do what I want. I especially hate having to share things that are mine. Don’t get cocky, sweet thing, you’re my precious doll, but I don’t give a single shit about you,” Dabi spat against your lips, his mouth speaking against yours, and his eyes staring straight into your eyes.

Or they would have been should you not have been in such trifling, nauseating pain as Dabi’s hand burned against your skin. His quirk sizzled against your skin, creating a perfect brand of his hand on your throat, but the pain was immeasurable, horrifically painful as you wailed against his mouth.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” you screamed, your hands fisting and pathetically slamming against Dabi’s shoulders, pleading to be shown mercy.

But Dabi merely looked down at you with sadistic disinterest, relishing in the way the smell of your burning skin wafted into his nose until he let go.

You tried to scream, tried to cry to whatever god may be looking down at you to come and save you, but you found you couldn’t. The burnt, pussing bubbles of infected flesh bubbling on your throat were tight on your sweat-slicked skin, and every small movement made it feel worse.

“There we go!” Dabi grins again, his eyes wild and almost demented as he flips you over so that your naked ass is hanging out in the air, able to be manipulated to his will. The tears in your eyes were still streaming down your face, intermixing with the blood and popped blisters on your skin as Dabi pressed you into a position that would make things easier for him to fuck you in. “I can’t fuck you when your cunt is buried in this box.”

You make a noise, a small noise that sends a powerful wave of nausea through you as Dabi separates your legs and curls his fingers within your slick cunt.

“Glad to see that your little pussy is still wet as fuck,” Dabi groans, his fingers scissoring deep within you, stretching out your hole until you pathetically cries into the mildew scented mattress. Your body pulsated with a different stimulus; the pain in your throat still burned and was feeling itchy. The thud in your wrist hurt to move. But the pleasure of his fingers buried deep in your cunt made your eyes cross and your mouth pant in the overcoming sensation of your pussy being tended to.

“D-Dabi,” you manage to croak out, the tears running down your cheeks, once more intermixing with the thick blood and puss on the burn. Your voice was disgustingly hoarse, sounding akin to someone with smoker's lungs. “P-Please.”

“P-Please what?” Dabi mocked, his hips grinding against your exposed, pert ass. You could feel the hard cock in his pants, the shift in the fabric as he dropped his own pants and underwear to rut his piercing covered cock through your asscheeks. “Don’t think about me fucking your ass, you dirty fucking bitch, I’m not gonna do that weird shit.”

“N-No!” you whimper, your unburnt hand reaching behind you to grab onto the fabric of his coat that he refused to remove. Somehow, the movement made the throbbing flesh on your throat hurt more, and you swallowed the rising bile in your throat, gagging. “D-Dabi, f-fuck!”

“You want something better than my fingers?” he continued to question, uncaring that he knew exactly what you meant by those words. He was too focused on the way your walls were much tighter around his fingers right now, a vice trap that made him both eager and unwilling to shove his cock deep within your womb just yet.

You mewl in frustration, your hips shifting against his intruding fingers, desperate to get the coldness of his pierced cock within you already. The pain was still very much alive, but the pleasurable build in your core was quickly outweighing your mood.

“Oh, I get it,” Dabi sighs, his fingers exiting your throbbing, soaked cunt, both his hands slamming onto your ass, gripping the flesh with all the strength he had. “You want another fucking brand. You want the world to know who you fucking belong to, who fucking owns you until the day you die.”

The words send a panicked throb in your stomach, but before you could protest, before you could make note that this was not something you wanted, his fingers grew hot. Hotter and hotter, they grew until the blue of his flame felt like scorching white heat under your skin. Impossibly unbearable pain and branding scarred into your skin as you’re able to ignore the resulting pain in your throat to scream so loudly, your voice bounces off the alley walls multiple times.

You can’t see what he did, but you can tell that his handprints are scarred to your ass; you can feel the puss-filled blisters rising from the skin as Dabi continues to massage the skin as if it was a bruise and not some second-degree burn. You sobbed into the mattress, your face buried into the ugly fabric, snot, and tears pooling onto the surface until you were choking on your spit and rising bile.

Before you could even adjust to the pain, your mind pounding and reeling with the stinging, melting sensation on your ass, something thick, cold, and pierced rams into your throbbing cunt. Your body lurches forward with the initial thrust, your body, despite the pain, jumping from the shock of Dabi’s cock entering you.

It’s a familiar feeling, a feeling you loved, but you can’t focus on the sense of the many balled piercing gliding against your ruffled walls. The extra stimulus pointedly ignored because the pain in your ass was currently outweighing the pleasure he was giving you. But Dabi doesn't care. Why would he care? You’re his doll, and right now, he’s in heaven. Your cunt was blistering hot against his cock and oh so fucking tight. Dabi knew why he was so obsessed with you, and it started with that tight pussy of yours that could milk him dry without even trying.

Dabi smiled, his hands raising off the branded handprints on your ass that were caked with already horribly forming scabs, blisters, pus, and blood. He felt giddy seeing your ass, covered with trembles and sweat, covered with his handprint. There was no denying you were his, no denying that you were here to serve the League as nothing except his fuck doll. No one would want you now that you had three of his handprints branded on you, and not even he could love someone with as ugly scars on your body.

So, with the stammering, choking cries that poured from your mouth for Dabi to stop because his rutting hips slamming against your newly branded ass was too much, Dabi let his head drop back, flooded with the sense of elation and euphoria.

You were his.

Finally his.

Only his.

“It hurts!” you screamed, your hips shifting in your feeble attempt to escape his barbaric hold. “It hurts, Dabi!”

“If it hurts so much, why the fuck is your cunt so wet?” Dabi mocked, his hips slamming into you with deeper, faster strokes. “Why the fuck are you moving your hips like a desperate whore if it hurts?”

You howl in your pain crossed pleasure, the tears soaking your face, and the mattress seemingly flowing from you without end in sight. Much like the squelching slick in your cunt that grows louder and louder and the Jacob's ladder on his cock pressed further and further into your warm velvet walls.

“Because it hurts!” you screech, your fingers tearing into the mattress, your body spasming from the overload of sensation. Your mind slips through the cracks of consciousness, and the pain begins to override your mind.

“Oi, oi, oi!” Dabi yells, his hand coming down to slap the blistering brand on your ass, completely waking you back up. “Don’t you dare knock out on me, doll. I might call you a doll, but I don’t want you to be some fucking dumbass ragdoll when you’re on my cock!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your eyes crossing and your vision spinning with the onslaught of sharp, stinging pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mm,” Dabi hums, clearly pleased with your apology. “Seems like after so long, you’ve finally accepted your useless, pathetic, quirkless ass can’t do shit.”

So, his hands shift from your ass and move onto your hips, enjoying the way your skin is so soft, so easily bruisable beneath his hold. Your body seems to block out the pain he brings to your body and only accept the lulling pleasure of it all. The noises of his drilling cock into your sobbing cunt is loud, the sopping noises loud and soft in both your ears. Dabi has half a mind to wonder if anyone would walk by the alleyway, hear your desperate, pathetic noises and call the cops.

He smiles lazily as his cock brushes against the wall of your cervix. Would he kill you in front of them all and then them? Maybe he would make you beg for his cock more in front of the officers and kill them all should they be aroused. He laughed as his cock slammed into your cervix, the squealing pleasure ripping from your throat at the feeling, and Dabi felt light.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

How pathetic would that be?! Heroes getting aroused as he fucked such a poor girl in front of them! Of course, they’d have to be killed because that would be immoral of them, and not to mention that once anyone got a lustful eye on, you deserved to die.

You were his.

Only his.

“Who does this pussy belong to?!” Dabi snaps, his hand grabbing your hair by the roots. “Who?”

“Dabi!” you laugh giddily, your face still streaming with tears, your lips bloody and bitten raw. “Dabi! Dabi! Dabi!”

Dabi growls in his satisfying pleasure, his hand throwing your head back onto the mattress, and his hands press onto your shoulders as he begins to thrust faster, harder, more power into your clenching tight cunt. His fingers tear into your skin, breaking the skin and watching the ruby red liquid ooze from your skin.

That causes you to scream, your face twisted in slight pain, but Dabi presses onward.

He has one last thing to do.

“Such a good fuck doll, don’t you think you deserve to be rewarded for being such a good fuck? For having such a sweet, tight pussy?” Dabi asks, his teeth biting against the nape of your neck as he continued to fuck you until fluids were beginning to seep from your cunt. “I’m going to make sure that everyone in the fucking world knows you belong to me, that you are my precious fucking doll and no one else's, okay?”

You keen loudly, your body shivering underneath his, and your head nodding, your tongue unable to produce any more words.

Dabi raised his finger, the tip blazing with a small, concentrated blue flame, and he makes contact with the skin on your back.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

His name is written repetitively on your back. The layers of skin on your back wholly burned off so that the twitching pink of your skin muscles are shown. No blood comes from there.

Dabi laughs, delighted with how fucking perfect you look with his name on your back, and you seemed to have flipped out of your broken mindset and shoved back into the horrors of the pain your body was experiencing. You gagged loudly, screaming and twitching with immense pain, but Dabi continues.

“You don’t mean shit to me, though, doll; I hope you know that!” Dabi snickers, his cock throbbing when he felt the familiar milking sensation of your cunt as you finally came around him. He continued to ram his cock into you, savagely uncaring of how you begged from him to stop, pathetically asked for him to heed. “You’re nothing more than my cumslut, nothing more than some stupid sex doll for me to use. And now you’re completely ruined! No one will want you with my brand all over you! No one will, and I sure as hell don’t want you forever!”

Your body stills under him, not quite limp as though you might pass out, but cold, frozen.

Dabi doesn’t care; he never has as he countries to hammer his cock within you, his tongue sweeping over his front teeth before spitting onto his branded name on your skin. You flinch greatly at the burning sensation, your eyes trying not to close with unconsciousness as ropes of his cum and seed spill into your cunt.

You lay there, unable to move, as Dabi stands up, quickly dressing and leaving you with a mere chuckle.

You were ruined forever, you suddenly realized as we make our way back to the beginning scene.

Cold, used, quirkless.

You had no purpose in life except to be Dabi’s whore, and even he didn’t want you.

The darkness consumed you in the worst of ways right then.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020 #tw: noncon

612 notes · View notes

watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

Text

Junkyard

PG-13 oneshot: semi-angst into fluff. Thanks so much for reading!! I would love any advice or critiques, and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in anything :)

Title: Junkyard

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2170

Summary: Bobby’s a little too overprotective of you with Dean. Sam is very much a younger brother about it.

gif not mine! please let me know if you know whose it is so I can give them credit!

Dean’s hand slipped under your t-shirt, his fingers ice cold from the Sioux Falls October night. You gripped his collar with one hand, the other running through his gelled hair. The tip of his nose was cool against your cheek as his lips crashed into yours, and you nipped at him with your tongue. He answered in kind, pulling you into him. Your jeans slid on the trunk of the old junk car under the pressure until you were ground up against Dean’s belt where he stood. He slipped his other hand into your hair, gripping the base of your neck and exposing your throat before kissing and sucking hungrily. You groaned involuntarily and could feel Dean smile into your soft skin. Sliding down his chest, you gripped his belt buckle and flicked it open with one hand, your turn to grin when Dean gasped softly.

He leaned into you, the hand on your head lowering you urgently but gently onto the trunk. The exposed skin on your back screamed at the freezing cold metal but you didn’t care, trying to yank him over you like a blanket while he tore at his jacket.

“Boy if you don’t get that poor girl inside I’ll tan your ass and use it as a coin purse! It’s damn near freezing out! You must think I’m pretty goddamn stupid and I’ll tell you: I was born at night but it wasn’t last night!” Bobby yelled from the house, his voice carrying over the salvage yard.

“Fuck,” Dean pulled away to whisper through gritted teeth. He pressed his forehead into you, waiting for a beat while you both caught your breath before leaning back to offer a hand. You took it and hopped down from the perch of the trunk. Feeling in the dark for any major bumps, you adjusted your ponytail and yanked your shirt down to meet the waist of your jeans. Dean re-buckled his belt and held out his arm so you could go first back to Bobby’s house.

Coming through the door, the first thing you saw was Sam sitting at the kitchen table. He smiled up at you slyly without raising his head, and you were thankful that the cold air had already flushed your cheeks. Bobby was a few steps behind him, thankfully looking past you at Dean. If looks could kill, Dean would be burning alive.

“How was your, uh, walk?” Sam asked with the kind of smug grin only he could deliver.

“Fine,” you said briskly, adding a tight lipped nod. Sam looked past you to Dean, whose smile was popped open at the edge by his tongue in his cheek. You shot him a warning look and he closed his mouth.

“Great,” Dean added.

Bobby slammed down the casserole dish he was holding with enough force that you listened for the Pyrex to crack. “Here you go then,” he said, even more gruffly than normal.

Dinner was so awkward and silent that it made you sick to your stomach. You tried your best to look only down at your plate, the glances you stole showing Sam’s barely contained glee at Dean having been caught out and Bobby’s barely contained disdain at it. When you finally finished your plate, you grabbed all the empty dishes within reach and headed to the kitchen sink with them. “Thanks for dinner, Bobby! I’m beat, I’ll see you all tomorrow!” you threw over your shoulder as you went, feeling for all the world like a frog trying to climb out of a near-boiling pot.

“Not so fast, kid,” Bobby barked. You set the dishes down quietly in the sink and marched back to your seat at the table. “We need to have a talk.”

Sam sat still, but you could tell from the expression on his face that he would’ve been exploding out of his chair with schadenfreude if he could.

“I’ll leave you guys alone, then. Goodnight! Dinner was great, Bobby,” Dean said, playing dumb in an effort to escape himself. Bobby slapped one open palm on the table hard and the older Winchester returned to his seat. Dean had been keeping it together remarkably well, but the color drained from his face as he settled.

Bobby sat silently for a few agonizing moments before speaking. “Now. I know you boys haven’t had a lot of experience living with a young woman before—”

“Oh. My. God.” Sam said under his breath excitedly. Bobby glared at him.

“But I will be damned if you plan on treating this house like some sleazy frat basement!” he yelled, building steam. You were absolutely mortified, unable to even look at Dean or Sam. “Now get your dumb asses up and go to bed. Don’t make me give this speech again.” His voice was low and grim as you got up and pushed your chair in. Sam and Dean got up too, but you heard Bobby growl a dark “sit” to Dean as you and Sam walked away. You felt a tinge of guilt at leaving him alone, but it was nothing compared to the dread that fell over you at the thought of sitting at the table a second longer.

Sam followed you up the stairs. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You think he’s going to kill him?” You knew he was joking, but were scared at what Bobby was going to say to Dean anyway. It was ridiculous, for three adults to be wrapped up so much in the opinion of a man who wasn’t the real father of any of you, and yet you felt exactly like a reprimanded child.

You changed quickly into a big old t-shirt and worn cotton sweatpants, padding down the hallway in a messy bun to wash your face and brush your teeth when Bobby started yelling. Sam shot his head out of the bathroom curiously and came to the stair landing with you to listen.

“This is not a random girl in some town you’re passing through, Dean!”

Dean responded too quietly for you and Sam to hear.

“That’s how you treat her with respect? Slip her out the back door to fool around in a damn junkyard?!” You heard a crash that you thought sounded like one of the chairs being tossed to the ground. When Bobby spoke again he was quieter; Sam and you leaned in to hear him.

“If you make that girl shed one tear, boy, so help me God you’ll be wishing you were back in Hell.”

Sam sucked air through his teeth, wincing. You realized your mouth was hanging open, stunned both that Bobby could cut that deep and that he seemed not to trust you to protect yourself at all. You weren’t stupid; of course you knew Dean’s reputation. On some level, you were worried he might live up to it. But for now he was gorgeous and it was a little lonely staying with Bobby up in Sioux Falls. You were having fun, and the fallout was for you to beat yourself up about in the future, not now.

When you heard movement in the kitchen, you darted into the bathroom and Sam tried to head down the stairs casually to the day bed in the library. You brushed your teeth and washed your face brusquely, making it back to the spare bedroom without seeing Bobby head to the other bedroom upstairs. Pulling the old comforter over you on the old brass bed, you fell asleep fitfully.

You woke with a start feeling like you were being watched. Based on the dim glow creeping through the slats between your blinds, it was at least a few hours after you went to sleep. When you scanned the room, Dean’s silhouette filled the doorframe.

“What’re you doing?” you whispered urgently.

“I wanted to see if you were up,” he answered, stepping into the room so that the moonlight illuminated his face. The shape of his full lips made you ache, the shadow of his jaw onto his neck begging to be touched. You realized as always that his socked feet were his only concession to the hour; his “pajamas” were his still-belted jeans with a t-shirt.

“I’m up now, what’s going on?” Dean kept took a few more steps into the room toward you, biting his lip slowly. You got up to your elbows, the old bed’s springs creaking underneath you. “What’re you doing?” you repeated. “Bobby’s going to kill us,”

“I think you mean Bobby’s going to kill me,” he smiled, half of his face obscured by shadow. He was standing at the foot of your bed now, fiddling with the hem of a blanket. “Seems pretty interested in protecting you from the big bad womanizer.”

“Yeah, I heard some of that,” you offered cautiously.

“Figured you and Sam would be listening. Hear everything?”

“Not everything, but enough. So come on, don’t poke the bear. Go to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You laid back down, tucking the comforter up under your chin. Dean didn’t move.

“You don’t want me here?”

You smiled in the dark. “Dean, Bobby’s room is like 15 feet away.”

“Guess we’ll have to be quiet then.”

Dean rounded the corner of the bed and leaned down, grazing your lips with his. He knew what he was doing, and you could only hold out for a second before greedily snatching the back of his head and sliding your mouth onto his. The bed groaned in response to the extra weight and you pulled away sharply, alarmed at the noise.

Dean grabbed the extra blankets you kept at the foot of your bed for extra cold nights in Bobby’s drafty Midwestern house and spread them on the floor in a sort of picnic-nest before spinning around and picking you up off the bed, comforter and all. You put a hand over your mouth to keep from giggling as he lowered you both down onto the blankets. “Better?” he asked as you nodded into his chest. Warmth came off of him through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, seeping into you like melting honey. Easing down until your chests pressed together, he kissed you deeply and softly without any of the urgency he had in the junkyard. You relished in the roughness of his hands and stubble on you as he took his time exploring your lips and neck. Dean pulled away to take a breath, leaning back on his knees.

“Wait,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong?” you spit out, scared he might’ve heard something in the hallway.

Dean looked down at you and the shadows caught all the angles in his face. He looked into your eyes and then out the window, biting his lip.

“I’m not just messing around,” he finally said. There must’ve been enough moonlight for him to see your face because Dean pursed his lips in frustration. “I mean what Bobby said is not true. Or maybe it was before, but not now, not with you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

“Dean, I know what this is, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about ‘sparing my feelings’ or whatever,” you replied, touching his chest. He grabbed your wrist.

“Sparing your feelings? No, that’s what I mean. I want it to be more than…this,” he said, gesturing to the blankets surrounding you on the floor. “I just, I want to be, like, with you,” he mumbled.

“Are you serious?” you replied, sitting up.

“I, uh, I mean yeah,” he said, leaning back onto his heels. “If you want to.” Seeing Dean shy and nervous like a teenager this way was unusual, and it caught you off guard.

“Uh, wow,” you breathed, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t know you like, dated, or whatever.”

He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I guess I don’t really, huh?”

“So this is you asking me out?”

“Yeah. But only if you’re going to say yes.” The half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth looked more like the Dean you knew.

“And if I did, would that make this our first date?” you asked, pulling at a loose thread from your sweatpants’ hem.

“I was thinking dinner or something, but I mean, sure, why not?”

“Hmmm, bummer,” you thought aloud with a smile. “Thought you’re not supposed to have sex until the third date.”

Without Dean’s hand behind your head it would’ve cracked against the floorboards with the force of him suddenly slamming into you, but instead you were enveloped in his kiss and the scent of leather and pine that always floated around him. You giggled into his lips when you felt Dean grin against you, and he pulled away a few centimeters. Your breath mixed as he asked, “That’s a yes, right?” It was all you could do to nod as you melted into each other, turning into a tangle of muffled little laughs, discarded clothes, and heavy, warm breaths.

ETA: Did you know there’s a Junkyard, Part 2? Might be worth checking out 😉

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278, @dream-believe-and-love

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn fic #spn #spn one shot #spn oneshot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #dean winchester #dean fanfiction #dean fluff #dean one shot #dean winchester oneshot #reader insert #dean x you #dean winchester x you

402 notes · View notes

leah-halliwell92 · 3 years ago

Text

Fast and Furious(ly)

Summary: A follow up to “it’s over”, for @band--psycho‘s bingo; prompt is Car Sex. WARNING: Sexual content 18+ only please!

6 p.m – Friday night

You’d walked into the club house feeling pretty ok. It had been a long day but nothing you’d been unable to handle. Tig had been driving you up the wall with trying to make amends for his straying dick. He’d been shooting for the two of you to try again, much to your displeasure. The boys could only do so much to keep him at bay, you knew, but the fact lay in that Tig was tap dancing on your last good nerve, especially when he insisted that your sister was just a lay that happened while drunk. Your sister too for that matter...

She’d been so apologetic, fat tears running down her face as she she sobbed for your forgiveness. Begging you to listen, trying to convince you that he’d only been a lay. That they’d fallen in bed just for sex. You remember yelling something and telling her to got to hell. You’d been avoiding going to TM’s ever since you’d found them together two months ago. In that time your brother-in-law, Ben, had come back from deployment. You’d been happy he was back safe and sound but knew shit would hit the fan sooner rather than later, and it would not be you who started the shit fest.

/Flashback – two weeks ago/

Everything had come to a head, as you’d predicted, during a family picnic. Ben had been so happy to see everyone again and everyone had been honestly happy to see him too. Half-Sac had been more than happy to sit with him and talk military and how Sac as adorable as he is landed in the rink with the sons. Ben looked impressed, you hoped to God he wasn’t thinking joining up but hey, what's more than family?

You’d been on the other side of the park looking at the vintage Dodge Charger Happy had driven in, more like drooling.

“Never thought you’d be into cars little girl,” the tattooed biker said with a small grin.

You shrug and say, “My dad used to buy and restore old cars. I grew up with the smell of oil and sound of power tools, its kind of why I feel at home here.”

“Well that and that you actually know your shit right?” He said knowingly.

You shrug with a smirk, “And between you and me, I lost my ladyhood in the back of 69′ mustang. There really is nothing like doing it in a muscle car.”

Happy choked on his beer and looked at you as if for the first time.

You gave him a saucy wink

But before he could say anything else, your heard Opie tell Lyla to take the kids back to the club and keep em there.

Lyla did as done and you turned to see your sister in tears and Ben looking like someone had killed him.

“Is it true!?” Ben yelled at your sister, “Did you really fuck ten years of marriage down the drain for nothing!?”

You saw Jax hide behind Chibs who gave him a knowing look.

Your sister was in tears apologizing for all she was worth, which currently was nothing.

What made you mad was Gemma getting in your face about hurting Tiggy. It took Happy, Chibs, Jax, Bobby, and Opie to keep you from beating her ass in. You’d proven to the club a long time ago that you had the balls to do shit others couldn’t do. That included knocking the queen of SAMCRO down a peg...or ten.

Happy had swept you into his car and drove away allowing for you to get some much needed air.

/End flashback/

“You got everything set kiddo?” Bobby asked, coming into the club and setting the last crate of booze on the bar top.

“Yep, just need to count these in and then set up for opening,” you said with a large smile.

“There she is,” the biker looking at you with a happy nod.

“What?” You asked curiously.

“I’ve not seen you smile like that since Tig decided to commit boyfriend suicide,” he said honestly.

You sighed but nodded appreciating Bobby’s blunt honesty.

“I hope to see that smile on your face more darlin,” he said with a smile of his own making his way to the back.

“Make me food and I’ll smile all you like papa,” you say with laugh as you counted the bottles.

“Done!” He called out laughing as he went.

You shook your head and picked up a couple of cold ones to take to Happy and Chibs who were at the pool table.

“There’s the wee lassie!” Chibs called out boisterously as he saw you approach.

You laughed at his antics and let him pull you into a hug.

“How’s a girl supposed to live with you as her big brother?” You asked teasingly, pulling away to hand Happy his own beer.

“Ya ain’ tha’s what,” he said with laugh as Happy pulled you to his side and pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

“Ya do righ’ by ‘er or no one will find your body,” Chibs said seriously to Happy.

Happy gave a short nod and the men came to an understanding.

You blushed deeply as you realized that you were truly cared for here. The moment was ruined by a commotion coming from right outside the bar.

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” Chibs said with a sigh.

You walked out to find Tig and Ben whaling at each other as hard as they could.

Some crow eaters and stragglers surrounded them as your sister looked on panicked and clearly distraught.

“Fuck me, I knew God should have made me a lesbian,” you say walking back into the bar.

You felt Chibs and Happy stare at you as you made your way inside.

Bobby saw you pick up a ten gallon bucket and fill it to the brim with water and lots of ice.

“I’m gonna...go do something,” he said as he saw the look on your face.

You walked back out bucket in hand getting wide eyed looks from Chibs, Happy and the rest of the boys.

“Thats enough assholes!” You yelled before promptly pouring the bucket over the fighting men.

“What the hell!” They yelled out ready to pounce when they saw it was you who’d done it.

You looked Ben in the eyed and honestly said, “Yes she fucked Tig, yes she saw a chance while he was drunk and took it, no it doesn’t excuse Tig guilt fucking her every other time the fucked and no I’m not ready to forgive either of them. You’re a decorated military soldier, act like it.”

Tig had never been scared of you but right now, he knew you were done.

“And you, quit coming around Chibs trying to see me,” you said anger and hurt seeping through, “You killed us the moment you fucked her, the moment you didn’t come clean, and the moment you thought playing dumb was the way to go. Quit trying to save something that burned Alexander and us both a favor and stop trying to win me back.”

He gave a shaky nod that he’d understood.

That done you made your way back inside ignoring your sister’s cries for you.

From then on two things happened, you and Happy grew closer. With him looking out for you closer than the other boys, and Ben made himself a more or less permanent fixture at the club house. He kept to himself most times which worried you. You feared his PTSD would be triggered bad after finding out about your sister. But to your relief, and surprise, Half-Sac had glued himself to Ben’s side.

Happy gave you an appraising look and said, “I have something to show you.”

“Oh really?” You asked with a smirk.

“Don’t you go thinking about asking what either,” he said playfully serious, “It’s a surprise.”

“Ok, fine...keep your secrets,” you said pulling yourself onto the bar top to give him a quick peck.

Before he could pull you over you looked over his shoulder at Opie who was caveman carrying your sister out of the bar.

“I’m not sure if I'm surprised or disappointed,” you said honestly, “Question is if she was here for Ben or if she was looking for familiar pastures.”

Happy gave her a look and noticed Half-Sac consoling Ben, “I think she was here for the soldier.”

“For all her hot bloodedness, (S/N) really did love him,” you said with a sigh letting Happy pull you over the bar top and onto his lap, “Doesn’t excuse what she did though.”

He nodded agreeing with your assessment and said, “You are off as of now little girl.”

“Oh am I really,” you said with a teasing grin, “Says who?”

Happy growled lowly in your ear giving your exposed thigh a firm smack.

It had been some time since you’ve felt this publicly and openly loved. Tig would love on you like a bitch in heat, but this tenderness was something you’d not experienced since the beginning of that relationship. The blend of hot and tender you got from Happy is something else.

“Stand up little girl,” he said after he finished his beer.

You nodded to Half-Sac who understood and took over giving you a saucy wink as you stood and let Happy drag you to the garage of the clubhouse where the boys’ personal vehicles were.

“Pull the cover of that one in the back,” he said nodding a tarp covered car.

You did as told and pulled the cover to reveal something akin to Dom Toretto’s Dodge Charger.

“How–” You started to ask your eyes wide in awe and wonder.

“Trust me you don't wanna know,” Happy said seriously.

“Did you kill someone for this?” You asked seriously, you were not about to accept blood money or anything of the sort if it came through the club’s less than stellar dealings.

“No!” He said loudly in alarm, “I just...Uh, it was one of my first fixers.”

You gave him an astonished look.

“You’re giving me, one of your...” You looked at the sleek black 70s car in shock, “You can’t give me this.”

“Why not? You’re my woman now,” he said seriously walking to you slowly pinning you against the car, “And as my woman...I will treat you like the queen you deserve to be treated as.”

You gasped as your butt hit the side of the car.

“And may your queen make a request?” You asked breathlessly.

“Hm.”

You took a hand that was at your hip and put on your cloth covered mound.

“I need you,” you said before gasping as he applied pressure as he ran his and over you.

“Here?” He asked eyes burning with desire.

You smirked and said, “I’ve a surprise for you. Why don’t you pull down these shorts and find out what it is?”

He smirked and yanked your biker shorts down to reveal you wearing nothing underneath.

“This for me?” he asked running his middle finger along your outer folds.

You nod with a sigh that turned into a full moan as you felt it slip between them and tease your entrance and clit.

“So wet already little girl?” He asked as he felt the wetness.

You nod and moaned loudly as ran a finger over your clit.

“I want to hear you scream,” he said sultrily as he pressed open mouth kisses on your neck.

And scream you would, he pushed you onto the side of the car and made quick work of his pants before pulling one of your legs over his hip.

Twin moans escaped echoed as he entered you for the first time.

“Harder daddy,” you moaned as he gave an experimental thrust.

He happily obliged and kicked up the pace while at it.

You held on for dear life as kicked up the pace, the sounds of moans and wet kisses taking over you as you felt your pleasure build.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the boys were having a moment. Tig looked like someone had blown up his bike, Jax was on the floor laughing, Opie and Bobby were as red as tomatoes the older of the two murmuring about not having the health strength to handle hearing the woman he considers his kid fucking one of his brothers.

“Look’s like she found her match then,” Chibs said with a snigger.

Tig threw him dirty look.

“What!? Sorry to say this brotha but while you may have fucked her...Hap’s fucking her up,” Juice said in complete honesty.

Bobby rolled his eyes and left before he punched someone a new hole.

Half-Sac and Ben shared knowing looks as Sac nuzzled Ben’s neck.

“Happy,” you gasped as you panted.

“Looks like she doesn’t like white man dick,” the young man said matter of factly.

This only made Jax laugh harder and Tig look even more devastated.

“You gonna come for me girl?” He asked reaching between the two of you to rub clit.

You came with a scream.

Ben gave a low whistle and said, “I met (S/N) through (Y/N) in college, (Y/N) was a wild woman I swear on my daddy’s grave. SO much so she invited me to bed with one of her best friends....Now I’m not saying I'd jump her cuz I see her as sister but son of a bitch do I regret not joining that particular duo.”

Half-Sac whistled and pulled ben to where his dorm was grinning from ear to ear saying, “Oh this daddy is mine.”

Chibs went to Tig and said, “The next time the good lord gives you the privilege of being with a good woman to fuck it up ya feck.”

#happy x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy happy #band--psycho bingo challenge 2021

31 notes · View notes

raendown · 4 years ago

Link

Next up in the follower milestone gift fics is for @FollowingTheRivers, prompt word torpid.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1397 Rated: T+ Summary: It wouldn't occur to him until much later just how ready he'd been to trust the one who found him.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Anchor in the Drift

Maybe, Tobirama thought, if he tried very hard, he could invent a new seal on the spot that would allow him to stand up outside of his own body and carry it to safety. That sounded a great deal like a job for those solid clones he was still working on but not really, that wasn’t entirely what he wanted. What he actually wanted was to close his eyes and just let consciousness swim away from him like it was trying so very hard to do. Unfortunately that was definitely a bad idea at the moment. Very unsafe. Entirely likely to get him killed.

If only he could muster the energy to care.

Something grunted nearby and Tobirama gave some thought to a curious hum. Then decided against it. Humming felt like too much effort. The sheer act of living felt like too much effort right now while his head swam wildly between perfect silence and jangling alarm.

“You’re a hard man to find, Senju.”

Fingers carded through his hair and Tobirama found he was so much more interested in that sensation than any of the other ones he could barely feel anymore anyway. His eyes fell closed and then his eyebrows pinched when that seemed to act as a signal for the fingers to stop. That wasn’t right. He hadn’t meant for them to stop.

“Uh...alright. So that’s not normal. You good?”

He would be perfectly good if only the fingers would come back to his hair but the very thought of cracking his jaw open to communicate such felt like asking himself to lift a mountain. Instead he whined faintly and hoped that would do. It was hard to remember the last time he’d made any sound even close to a whine over the past decade or more but thankfully whatever or whoever might be attached to those fingers seemed to get the point because a moment later they were there again and Tobirama could only smile happily with his eyes still closed. How nice.

“Not good. Definitely not good. Look, whatever’s up, you need to live long enough for me to make fun of you for this, okay?”

Obviously he had no answer for that but as long as he got to enjoy the sensation of being petted like some common housecat he found that he just did not care. Even when the entire weight of his body was suddenly floating, torpid limbs lifted and positioned for him, still he had no thoughts but to admire the pleasant cool sensation of whatever he was being draped across. How lovely just when his body was starting to feel too warm. Clearly the universe had decided to realign itself in order to grant him his every wish. Actually, no, that wasn’t entirely true. The hand in his hair was gone and that was simply unacceptable if he was supposed to be getting everything he wanted.

For a short time Tobirama drifted, vaguely cognizant of the air rushing past him just a tad too firm to be a pleasant breeze, barely aware that whether his eyes were open or closed the world existed as the same blurry haze. Something might be wrong. It should probably bother him that he couldn’t tell. Mostly the last shreds of his thought processing abilities were taken up by wondering if he’d somehow developed the ability to fly. Now that would be an absolutely fascinating development, one he would need to perform extensive tests on, though just the thought of performing any sort of experiment at the moment made him want to lay down and go to sleep. Was he already laying down? It was hard to tell.

“Here we go, easy now. Don’t even think about flopping around or something. If you get any more hurt than however much you already are I’ll kill you myself after you’re better.”

Whoever that was they appeared to lack a certain sense of their own irony. Tobirama wanted to laugh but lacked the energy. He settled for mentally composing a rather disjointed speech about how pleasant this person’s voice was, very soothing to listen to. Definitely not helping his urges towards sleep.

“Tobirama. Can you even fucking hear me?”

“Nnh...”

“Oh thank fuck. You know, I had my own shit to do. I’m tired too. Got my own fucking mission and everything. But no! No, here I am pulling your chestnuts out of the fire and you can’t even roll over to thank me. Fucking hell.”

It took a few moments of lethargic musing but eventually Tobirama realized he knew that voice. Or, rather, he knew the shape and cadence of those swear words, could have recognized that tone in the soundless vacuum of outer space. Apparently Madara had come to rescue him. That was sweet. It would have been sweeter if he could have done it without the bitching but that was just his way and Tobirama was self aware enough to admit he wouldn't change the man. Well, he was usually pretty self aware. Right at that moment he wasn’t aware of much more than the haze in his veins and the warmth of something tracing along his cheek.

When did they stop moving?

“Back with me again?” Madara’s voice asked him and this time Tobirama found it in himself to hum the affirmative. “Not a single injury on you; this is actual bullshit. I’ve seen all sorts of reactions to chakra exhaustion but this one’s new. You’re more coherent when you’re drunk, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hair.”

“...what?”

“My hair.”

Somewhere above him he could hear the disconnected spluttering that had soothed him off in to dreams more times than anyone could count until finally Madara gave a violent snort. “More words, dumb ass. I don’t know what the hell you’re on about.”

Annoyed, Tobirama reached deep for any remaining tatters of energy. It was just enough to form what he hoped was a very irritated frown.

“Liked it. Touched my hair. Again.” As soon as the words were out his muscles liquified and his jaw snapped shut, utterly drained. The trained shinobi in the back of his mind piped up at last to note smugly that he had, at least, completed his mission. Unfortunately he’d also run across not one but two squads of resistance on his way out of Lightning Country and fighting when he was already exhausted was never fun. If he tried he could almost recall the way it felt to drain the very last of his chakra and hit the ground in tandem with the man he’d just killed. If Madara hadn’t found him - well, there was really no point in thinking about it. No doubt he’d be getting a lecture on the subject later anyway.

It would be worth it, though, because Madara’s hands were back in his hair and if he had the energy Tobirama would have purred like one of Izuna’s damn cats. Even with the low grumbling diatribe that accompanied the petting it was soothing, grounding. Tobirama couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was being so open about something he enjoyed, a vulnerability neither of them could easily afford even after several years of marriage.

Time had already lost all meaning so the fact that hours or minutes could have gone by didn’t even occur to him. Consciousness came and went but Tobirama couldn't tell the difference. He definitely noticed when his chakra finally started regenerating itself enough that he fell in to a true sleep, waking probably too many hours later to the rumble of Madara snoring. Which meant he’d fallen asleep sitting up. He only snored when he slept sitting up. It took a shamefully long time for Tobirama to realize he was sprawled out on cold ground with his torso leaning back against the other man’s chest, thick fingers buried in his hair with the sort of grip that spoke of an unwillingness to let go.

Why, he wondered, were they sitting alone in a dark cave?

“One of us did something stupid,” he muttered to the silence around them. Madara’s snore jumped in time with whatever he was dreaming about and Tobirama sighed, eyes sliding closed again. “You can tell me about it later.”

For now he was tired, limbs like molasses, more than happy to lie here without moving for just a few more hours.

#rae writes #follower milestone #madatobi #tobirama #madara #fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

loslotharios · 4 years ago

Text

...that certainly was something huh?

One thing this show is going to always do is make me ugly cry til my head hurts lmao.

Anyways as per usual my "thoughts" ⬇️

Man I really wish I'd started doing these posts earlier bc it's fun to just dump my dumb thoughts on u all lmao. Like can u imagine me talking about earlier seasons or about rayanne??? CHAOS.

Alright starting off strong with Dembe. Hello. I love u.

"I blame him too sometimes." DEMBE! This single line made my mind go crazy with kid Dembe headcannons. Sooooo imma get back on those.

PINKY 💀💀💀

The helium scene is the best thing to ever happen on this show. They are children. All 3 of them. I NEED more Red/Aram/Dembe interactions.

Cooper calling Red "Raymond". BITCH WHY DONT YOU JUST PROPOSE ALREADY.

RAYMOND WANTS HER TO MERC HIS ASS??? NOOOOOOO STOP

Personally, if I was Elizabeth I would just knock the old man Red over, snatch up the letter and haul ass. What's he gonna do? Run after me? Even injured I have no doubt she could outrun him... no offense Raymond.

Agnes rocking the denim on denim. Queen shit. Iconic. Incredible.

How far behind in school do you think Agnes is at this point?

Not to be a whore, but Red and Dembe 😩 I would. Both of them. No shame.

Elizabeth looked sketchy as fuck in the hospital. Girl at least take off the hat.

Aram loves Reddington and it's so freaking cute. Lmao.

I always thought it was hella weird of Elizabeth to ask that little girl to touch her scar. Nobody wants to touch your funky scar dude. Sorry but I had to say it.

Not Elizabeth unloading her drama on this 15 year old girl. She's just like 😬 my train is here sorry.

I'm not gonna lie, there was A LOT of talking this episode. I may or may not have zoned out just a little.

This show at times gives me "indie movie" vibes. The scene cutting between Red and the statue is one of those times.

Raymond really made his bestie help him plan/help execute his death. Toxic.

Agnes said: #blessed🙏

Ressler sneaking out the hospital was funny asf sorry. Hes out running in the streets. Sir sit down please.

RED AND DEMBE HUGGING IM CRYINGGGG I COULD FEEL THE EMOTION.

Cooper briskly walking to go try to save his boyfriend's life. Love it.

ELIZABETH NOOOOO RIP MY HOMEGIRL IM CRYING. WHY DOES THIS SHOW ALWAYS MAKE ME SOB?!?!?! WHYYYY.THE FUCKING MONTAGE. THE MUSIC. RAYMOND NOT WANTING TO LET GO. OH MY GOD MY HEART. DEMBE'S "IM SORRY" AS HE PULLS HIM AWAY!! THE SQUAD NOOOO RESSLER!!

Fuck. Where does the show go from here? Cant wait for s9 tbh.

Some after thoughts:

Im fully convinced Red had a sniper or something there to kill him from a far, if Liz couldn't do it. Guess we'll never know :(

For a second, i thought they were gonna kill raymond tbh. Him draining that wine glass would have been a good send off lmao.

Kind of hate that Liz never found out the truth from him. But oh well. Imma miss her. OH MY GOD AGNES! AGNES UGHHG IM IN PAIN.

Okay. I'm gonna retreat into my happy tbl au in my head and try to sleep cause its 6am. Maybe I'll post some of my fun headcannons later bc everything is so sad right now. Also this ended up way longer than I thought lmao oops.

Bye bye for now <3

#the blacklist #notwrestling

12 notes · View notes

oiikawabii · 4 years ago

Text

thrill

tendou x fem reader

work has been kicking my ass so this took me forever to finish

Horror stories by the camp fire take a turn after a little bit of teasing from Tendou

tw and cw: ns//fw, dubcon, mentions of death/killing

The fire burned brightly in front of your face, crackling with sparks flying around. There’s a small group with you, going around sharing stories and such.

A guy starts, putting down his drink and rubbing his hands together. “Okay, my turn! It’s about a haunting in a forest, right-”

“You always tell this story, tell us something different for once!” A girl complains.

“Oh, come on the story isn’t that bad. Plus, there’s some people here who haven’t heard it.” He argues.

“Well, if you don’t wanna hear his story then I can share mine.” The group’s attention is drawn to the red haired male.

“I’d rather hear Tendou’s story.”

He smiles, beginning his story. “It’s usually on nights like this, when it’s chilly but girls are still out in their dresses and skirts, still walking home alone because they think the only worry might be the weather. They were always so easy to pick up, especially with his charm. It’s always the ones with mommy issues that are so fucking charming. Anyone would want to get into a car with a guy like him, fuck a guy like him. He never seemed like he could be a problem and none of them really had enough brains to remember that their mom told them to not talk to strangers, nonetheless let one pick them up. But that was the best part, because he didn’t have a lot of work to do at that point. He just had to get them in his little hiding spot and wait for the perfect moment to strike!”

Tendou clears his throat, eyes on his hands as he starts the next part. “And he had a certain tactic, technique if you will, when it came to his victims. Each and every one of them were whores, sluts, but he still wanted them to be pretty. He’d dress them up, making them look doll-like and docile before he killed them. And if he couldn’t then he’d make sure to clean them up a bit, getting rid of their tears streaked makeup and the smeared lip gloss of lipstick they were wearing. Each one of them had to be presentable. Nobody wants an uggo on the autopsy table.”

“That’s sickening.” Someone comments.

“He’d make them sit on their knees, hands folded in their lap,” He comes up behind you, of all people, gripping your chin and pulling your head up to expose your neck. “Then he’d run a nice thin line right into their throat, watching the life drain from their eyes.” He makes a sound effect as his thumb runs across your throat, pressing deeply into the skin as if he could actually cut you. “It’s pretty to watch the white of their eyes fade to blue.” He says, looking directly into your eyes.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body shifting in its place, but you honestly don’t know if it’s due to uncomfortability or something else. That crazed look in his eyes, it scares you, but it makes your emotions spiral in different directions too.“You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m serious!” He laughs. “Pretty necks like yours always end up making the bloodiest of messes.”

You flinch away from his touch, leaving the whole group laughing like it was something funny. Honestly, you probably would’ve been laughing too if it weren’t you in that situation. Instead, you just felt… you still didn’t really know how you felt.

“Yeah, whatever, tell us something we haven’t heard before. What’s next, the killer fucked their dead bodies? He chopped them up in pieces?” You scoff. “Your story is shit and you’re just playing out the shock factor.”

“Can you just shut up and listen?”

“No one wants to hear your predictable story-”

“And no one wants to hear a dumb bimbo like you complain over some horror story.” He interrupts. He’s looking down on you, a sly smile plastering his face like he’s mocking you. “With that attitude, you might end up as one of his next victims.”

You can feel your heart thump in your chest. It’s starting to race by the second and being met with the crazed eyes of Tendou made you feel sick. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?”

“Because you love it.” He wraps his body around you, shaking you around in his grasp, “Such a cute little thing always attracting big bad monsters, you deserve to know the truth!”

You struggle away from his body, sneering, “You’re an asshole, Tendou,” before walking off. You swear, Tendou had it out for you tonight, and the last thing you needed was to deal with his bullshit.

You find yourself in one of the bedrooms throughout the house, still fuming to yourself. You’re doing anything to calm yourself down; scrolling through your phone, drinking, hell, even meditating at a fucking party of all places. You don’t know why you lashed out, it was irrational. But, you just felt mocked. It’s like you could still feel his taunting gaze. Even being alone couldn’t grant you peace.

There’s a knock on the door and without an answer it’s being swung open, making you jump up to your feet. In comes Tendou, grinning with all his glory. “I Honestly thought you left the party.”

Eyes rolling at the sight of him, you cross your arms. “I can’t leave yet, my ride is getting laid. And why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I’ve done nothing.”

“Yeah, if arrogance and crudeness was nothing I would agree.” You snap, making your way towards the door. “I honestly don’t know how people are able to put up with you most of the time.” It slams shut before you’re even two feet in front of it. “What, not gonna let me go now?”

His face softens and for a second you think he might be serious. “Look, I get I can say messed up things, but it was just for a story, it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. It’s not my fault you have feelings for me that you can’t deal with.”

“I swear to god, you’re unbelievable.”

He cackles in your face. Patronizing, that’s the perfect word to describe this feeling he’s giving you. It’s patronizing and it makes you feel inferior. “You act like you’re so special! Like you fucking matter! You know, I got you all figured out.”

You back away, giving a scowl. “What game are you playing at, Tendou?”

“Mm? Nothing. I’m sure it’s you who’s playing the game.” He takes a step closer, then another. You don’t even realize that he’s got you backed against the wall until your shoulders thud against it. “Tell me what your game is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, doing your best to put some space between the two of you.

“You don't? Because I think you want to play a little game of cat and mouse; killer and victim. You like this, huh, the thought of being at someone’s mercy? That’s why you’re being a bitch! You’re not mad at what I said, you’re upset because you imagined that girl to be you and you wanted a different ending. You wanted to be the girl that’s spared, you wanted to be the one that gets to say ‘I love you’. That’s what gets you going. But, she died and that’s the last thing you want. Tell me I’m wrong.”

You purse your lips, holding back your words because silence was better than your admission. But, even then his words were harsh and cut deep at your skin.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t! Because I’m not wrong.” He cackles. His body presses into yours, taking a deep, long breath. “You’re sick, absolutely sick. I hope you know that.”

You make the rash decision to push him off and dip under his arm, moving for the door. But it’s too late. You’re already trapped in a small place, between the bed, the wall, and him. You wouldn’t even be able to make a run for the door again without him stretching over and snatching you up.

“Aw, trying to run now? It’s your game, I’m just playing along.”

Your eyes roll, displaying false confidence that’s easy to see through. “What do you want from me, an apology for being a bitch? Like, I’m sorry I didn’t like your story and you’re right, it was fantastic. Just leave me alone, okay?”

His arms raise and swing around, and for a second you think he’s gonna hit you until they fall gently on your shoulders in an over exaggerated manner. “Your apology is nice, but it’s the last thing I’m looking for right now.” The weight of his hands start to crush your shoulders, pushing you further and further down until your knees hit the carpet. “Are you afraid?”

Your lips purse as you shake your head.

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneers. “I’m gonna ask you again: are you afraid?”

This time you nod, squeezing your eyes tight so no tears will fall. Your lip is starting to go numb from how hard you’re biting it. You were scared, absolutely terrified, but there’s a buzz throughout your body that has your full attention on his words.

“And you’re getting off on this too, aren’t you?” He laughs. His hand caresses your cheek, thumb swiping adoringly over the hot skin. There was nothing better than having a quivering girl right below him at his mercy. Even better that it’s you because, if you like it then he isn’t really doing anything wrong. He doesn’t even realize his hand has traveled down to your neck, giving it a little squeeze until you’re trying to paw him off. The look on your face is hysterical; red cheeks, glistening lips, puppy-dog eyes, such a fuckable face.

Nonetheless, his hand continues to tighten around your throat, the rough pads of his fingers crushing your trachea. Your cries turn into shallow breaths that soon turn into choked gasps. God, even in a position like this your thighs are clenching together, writhing to ease the heat between them. Soft fingers claw at the back of his hand, nails raking down the bony hand in a futile effort to get him off.

You’re almost sure he’s gonna just let you pass out, then keep going until your lips go purple. At this point, you can hardly breathe, hardly make out the figure in front of you. You can only focus on the throbbing in the front of your head from the lack of oxygen.

Tendou laughs at the way your head starts to loll. That’s finally when he releases your neck, hands shooting up in the air innocently. “Sorry about that, just needed to test the limits a bit.” He’s laughing like it was a joke, like it was funny that he was choking you out just a second ago.

You hunch over and greedily huff to make up for the oxygen that you oh-so missed. Your hand lands on your throat, trying to soothe the ache that his warm fingers left.

The metal of his belt clinks together as he hurriedly undoes it. He moves quickly at removing his aching cock from its confinement, pre already leaking from the furiously red tip. Before you can even register, his fingers are twisted in your hair, pushing your cheek down onto his crotch. You whimper when you feel wetness slide across your face. “Shh, shh,” He coos. “It’s all gonna be alright. Just do what you’re supposed to do.”

Your brows furrow at his words.

“Come on, don’t be shy now.” He taunts. “It’s not like it’s serious or anything, it’s just a game, right?” He uses his thumb to pry open your mouth--not much prying though when you basically open it willingly. He takes the opportunity of your wide open mouth to shove himself inside, making you gag out of surprise.

Your throat constricts around him, as he goes further down your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs to help you break away from his force on the back of your head, but they’re quickly slapped away. God, your mouth felt so good around him. He keeps going until he reaches a hilt, groaning when you take him all in. He stills for a moment, head thrown back in a bliss before pulling back and letting you have air again.

There’s a sniffle from you as you wipe at your face. You look up at him, his eyes telling you to keep going. You grab him with a little hand and wrap those lips right around him using the flat of your tongue to drag down the veins. Easing him into your mouth, your cheeks hollow as your head bobs up and down.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks you as if you could answer him. “If I was that killer from the story, I would’ve killed you by now. You talk too much, there’s nothing valuable going on in your head and you’re definitely anything but innocent.”

He grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you down. His hips grind into your mouth, groaning at the way choke. Your cheeks puff with air in an attempt to breathe, only to have it slowly puff out your mouth around him.

“Not to mention the fact that you fucking humiliated me! I should kill you just for that alone. Though, I don't think I would be able to get away with it; I’m not the neatest.”

His movements are rough. Your scalp burns from how much he’s pulling at the hair and obviously your throat hurts every time he hits the back of it. There’s squelching and a gargling with every thrust he makes.

Even if you didn’t want to die, even if you so desperately wanted to be the final girl, you probably would let him kill you. Just to see how it would feel, see how much he would violate you before taking your last breath. Same experience, different outcome.

He pets your cheek, pulling the taut skin. “If I were to kill you, it would be dragged out. I would see how much use out of you I could get until you become useless. I would give you hope, give you trust, let you know that I truly do appreciate you being around. But, then I would let that all slowly crumble away until the final string is drawn and I’m left with your lifeless body.”

Truly, it did fascinate you with the way he talked about killing you. You didn’t know if you wanted to hear more or if you wanted him to shut up. But, you did know that despite everything in your body telling you this was wrong, you liked this type of attention. There was something so different, so degenerate about it that had you hooked.

“I guess we’re both sick. We’re basically a perfect match.” He jokes.

There’s that signature pop as he lets you release your mouth from him. His own hand wraps around himself, matching the pace he was just at. Tendou moans loudly, his voice ringing in your ears along with the soft clicks that come with him sliding his hand down his cock. You watch idly with the way his hand squeezes, the way his hips buck, the way his face contorts. Only then do you remember the position you’re in; sucking dick to imitate the incomparable rush of fearing for your life. You were nasty, sick even, just like he told you. It doesn’t help that you’re letting him open your mouth and cum inside. And when he asked you to swallow, you did.

“Get on the bed.” He tells you. Maybe it was more of a demand, but you were gonna listen either way. “On all fours.” You shift your body onto your hands and knees at the foot of the bed. He snickers from behind you, “Can’t believe you’re actually listening to me. You’ve been so good through all of this.” His hand runs down the small of your back and you shiver when you feel cold hands flip up your skirt and place themselves on your ass.

“You’re wet, just so you know.” He says, staring at the damp spot. Two fingers hook around the fabric and pull it down. His touch is experimental, tentative as he slides his fingers between your folds. “Fits for someone as depraved as you are.”

“I’m not depraved.” You finally say and whining when you feel his fingers enter your cunt. They squelch, moving in and out and gathering more of your slick on his fingers.

“Oh really? You got turned on at the thought that I might choke you out, you willingly sucked me off, and now… now you have a flood between your legs after all of this.”

His fingers curl against your spongy walls, thrusting them fast. You pant and moan into your hand, your hole clenching around him. Your thighs squeeze together, only increasing your pleasure. “Tendou, please don’t stop!”

“Huh, what was that?” His pace slows, but his fingers reach deeper than before and it makes you shudder when he’s able to hit that spot with his fingers alone.

“Ah- fuck- Tendou!”

A few more thrusts from his fingers have you convulsing before he comes to a full stop. “Oh, you wanted me to stop, thought those words sounded familiar.”

You turn around to look at him and that sly grin that seems to never leave. He holds up the two fingers that were just inside you, a clear liquid glistening in the light. “But I, but-”

He wipes his fingers down on your chest. “What did you think after being a bitch to me half the time I would let you cum tonight? Poor girl,” He pets down the hairs that stood up on your head. “Looks like our game is over and--despite how much of a slut you are--you made it out as the final girl! You basically got what you wanted, so you should be grateful. Bye bye, my little mouse.” He sings.

And just like that he’s gone, leaving you feeling cold and empty in more than one way.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #hq #tw dubcon #tw death mention #tendou #tendou satori

55 notes · View notes

tomboyneedshercoffee · 5 years ago

Text

Thin Ice Pt5 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Brad fight which leads to Peter getting his hands dirty.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: PLEASE READ! Yes this is a reupload because I wasn’t really happy with how it turned out at first. The beginning will be pretty much the same but I got rid of the whole storyline with Y/N thinking Peter was Spiderman cause I just want him to be a normal happy teenager for once!

Warning: foul language, implications of sexual acts, blood, physical violence

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||to be continued

“ Y/N? You look a little pale...maybe you should sit down,” MJ suggested but you kept your eyes locked onto Cindy’s phone screen.

You were in disbelief, you couldn’t believe that it was you in the picture. Your lips against Brad. His hands by your side. Your eyes both closed shut. It made you sick.

Years of movie nights and pizza deliveries were gone. Years of inside jokes between classes had slipped away. Years of history and friendship, down the drain from one single photo and a kiss that meant absolutely nothing.

“ I need to go,” You grabbed your phone and headed for the door. Cindy thought quickly and stepped in front of you with her hands up.

“ Y/N, stop and think for a second. I know you’re mad, hell I am too but you can’t just go over and beat him up.”

You tried to go around Cindy but she just moved to block you. You were wasting precious time and the longer that the photo was out there, the angrier you felt.

“ I’m not gonna beat him up,” You said softly as MJ eyed you suspiciously,” I’m gonna kill him.”

You shoved past Cindy and left the room, leaving Cindy and MJ with open mouths.

You slammed the door shut before stomping your way over to Brad’s room, your vision already blurry from your tears. You wanted to cry and crawl up into a ball but there was something inside you that ignited your sadness into something more powerful. Rage. Pure uncaged rage.

Everyone always described you as a sweet girl who would never confront people. You used to let people walk all over you and apologize when you did nothing wrong. You were tired of being that girl, you were here to take prisoners, not excuses.

You banged on the door with the side of your fist,” Open this door right now or I swear to god-”

The door swung open and you came face to face with Flash who looked like he had just gotten out of the shower.

“ Yikes, you look pissed. Was it from your recent sexcapade with Brad-”

You shoved Flash to the side so hard that his back hit one of the shelves and knocked over a potted plant. You made a beeline for Brad, who was sitting down watching TV without a care in the world.

Brad looked up at you and looked up at you innocently,” Hey Y/N, I was wondering when you would show up.”

His calm, almost righteous tone was just like adding gasoline to the fire and adrenaline hissed through your body like a deadly poison.

You didn’t even realize you had punched him until he was on the ground, holding his jaw. You stood over him and felt your body fume with anger.

“ You’re a piece of shit Brad! I can’t believe you took a photo you perverted psychotic fuckboy!” You climbed over Brad and started to beat his face with the sides of your fists,” stop blocking me and let me fucking hit you!”

“ What the hell- Y/N stop!” You felt Peter’s hands wrap around your waist before he pulled you off of Brad.

You fought against his grip but Peter stayed his ground and kept you away. You didn’t even know Peter was in the room but that didn’t stop you from your main objective, which was to beat Brad to a pulp.

“ Flash, what’s going on?” Peter asked as Cindy and MJ rushed into the room,” MJ?”

“ Apparently Brad took a picture of him and Y/N hooking up-”

“ We didn’t hook up! He fucking tricked me!” You shook Peter off of you but Peter held out his arm so you wouldn’t lunge at Brad again.

Flash raised his hands defensively and mumbled,” That’s not what Brad told me plus a picture is worth a thousand words.”

MJ cursed under her breath before marching over to Flash. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him out of the room,” Go take a walk, yeah?”

MJ slammed the door in his face before returning to Cindy’s side.

“ MJ what picture?” Peter asked again, this time louder as MJ reluctantly unlocked her phone and handed it over to Peter.

You looked away in embarrassment as Peter clicked on the photo to get a better look. Peter’s heart sank to the floor, it really was you.

All of his suspicions of what happened in the bathroom during truth or dare was finally confirmed but he was far from relieved.

Brad got up from the floor and rubbed his jaw as you stared him down.

“ Y/N, please I didn’t mean to-”

“ Didn’t mean to what? Send a picture like that to the whole decathlon team? What, was it just for your spank bank or something?” You yelled as Peter gave you a side glance.

Peter felt completely betrayed. He genuinely thought he had fallen for you and that you felt the same way for him but the photo ripped his heartstrings out. He gave the phone back to MJ, not wanting another look.

He didn’t want to believe it but the proof was right there in front of him. At the end of the day, Peter knew he had to put his feelings aside and do the right thing, no matter how heartbroken he was.

Peter drew in a sharp breath before turning to Brad,” Apologize and delete it.”

“ I don’t need to apologize to you-”

“ No Brad! Not to me, to Y/N!” Peter snapped as he made his way over to Brad slowly,” I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

Brad took a moment before turning to you,” Y/N, I’m sorry. Really, it was an accident. I was just gonna send it to Peter so he could back off but I messed up...Can I talk to you privately without him here?”

You let out a dry laugh as you put your hand over your forehead,” You sound crazy right now, do you even hear yourself? And you’re lucky Peter is here cause you’d-”

You took a stride towards Brad but Peter grabbed your arm and leaned into your ear,” Y/N, I’m trying to help you. Let me.”

You didn’t respond as you looked down at your arm where Peter’s grip was. You looked up at Peter and watched his expression carefully. Even though he was on your side, you could see it in his eyes how hurt he was.

Peter swallowed hard before turning towards Brad. Even though he had to look up to face him, Peter stood tall and unbothered.

“ Delete it Brad. Then when you’re done, I’ll leave you two alone,” Peter said as he tried to compose himself.

If he could have his way, Peter would’ve joined you in kicking Brad’s ass but he knew it wasn’t a fair fight. Peter mostly had control of his powers but he also knew how out of hand it could get, especially if Peter got angry.

Brad sighed but went on his phone. After a few seconds, Brad tossed his phone onto the bed and held up his hands,” Alright Parker, the photos gone. I can’t do anything about it being sent into the group chat though.”

“ I got it, I’m gonna go around and make sure everyone deletes it. Unless they want to be charged with child pornography, I’m sure they’ll listen to me,” Cindy gave you a reassuring nod as MJ volunteered to go with her.

Now that it was just you, Brad, and Peter, the room felt still.

“ I want my apology Brad, not just for manipulating me but for throwing away our whole relationship,” You said as you shook your head in disbelief,” I can’t believe that after all we had been through, you would betray me...I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Brad took a few steps forward and glared past Peter,” Are you serious? Unlike Peter, you actually know me! You’re willing to drop me the second some guy shows interest in you and that just shows how naive you really are!”

Peter stepped in between the two of you and put his hand out towards Brad, almost touching his chest,” Don’t take another step Brad, that’s your last warning.”

Brad looked between the two of you and shook his head in disbelief,” You think I would hurt her? That’s funny coming from you Peter- you know Y/N he isn’t who he says he is-”

“ Oh my god Brad, if this is about your dumb conspiracy about Peter being Spiderman, I don’t want to hear it!” You exclaimed as you motioned your hand to Peter,” you are so scared about being replaced by him that you start making up dumb shit to feel less insecure! I could care less if Peter is Jesus himself, that doesn’t make it okay to sabotage my relationships!”

Brad pointed straight at Peter,” Why don’t you tell her or do you just love lying to her-”

“ Do you hear yourself? You sound insane!”

“ If I’m insane then you’re goddamn stupid for falling for this nice guy crap!” Brad snapped as he took another step towards you,” Watch, he’ll be done with you just like that!”

As Brad took another step closer to you, Peter tensed up and used his hand to push Brad lightly in the chest to back off,” Hey, I said watch it!”

Brad took in a sharp breath before he drew his fist back and swung it straight at Peter. Before you could even react, Peter dodged his hit and sent his fist directly into Brad’s face. You both watched as Brad fell over onto the ground with a hard thud.

“ What the fuck Peter!” You screamed as you scrambled to Brad who was unconscious,” oh fuck what did you do?”

Peter stood there shocked as you tried to shake Brad awake. He didn’t even mean to punch that hard but he couldn’t help it. Peter was beyond mad before but all of that washed away once he saw how terrified you were,

“ I-I’m sorry but he was calling you names! I was just trying to help,” Peter stammered as he started to panic,” i-is he alive?”

“ Of course he is!” You snapped as you started searching the room for a napkin or towel to stop Brad’s nose from bleeding more,” I didn’t ask for your help, Peter! I’m not some damsel, I can fight my own battles!”

Peter couldn’t believe how unreasonable you were being,” So you can punch him but I can’t?”

You were so overwhelmed with Brads injury and Peter’s yelling that you could literally feel steam coming out of your ears. It escalated too quickly and while you knew Brad was to blame, Peter wasn’t help.

“ Look at him Peter, you knocked him out cold!” You grabbed a handful of napkins and put pressure on Brad’s nose,” You’re not my boyfriend, I don’t need someone to defend me! ”

Peter looked between you and Brad and he felt like he was living in a nightmare. He couldn’t even fathom the idea that you were still helping Brad after everything he had just said and done to you.

“ Yeah, clearly,” Peter said coldly as you stopped what you were doing to look at him.

“ What is that supposed to mean?” You asked as Peter hesitated. He immediately regretted his words but you were quick to catch on,” You’re still thinking about the kiss, aren’t you? Peter, he tricked me, it wasn’t like that.”

Peter felt like he had a mouth full of cotton and even though he wanted to believe you, all he could think about was the picture. He knows what kissing you felt like but the fact that Brad also knew what your lips felt like upset Peter.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you like how Brad was right and that Brad wasn’t being paranoid about him. Peter knew how risky it would be for him to be intimate with someone while he was Spiderman.

“ Do you even trust me Peter?” You asked as Peter shifted side to side.

His fear all along was that you and Brad’s history would get in the way and that you would always choose him. He thought that now because even though Brad was unconscious and you needed to help him, you still couldn’t even look Peter in the eye.

“ You two are close and you even told me that you two have a history together,” Peter said softly as he looked down at his shoes,” maybe a kiss isn’t too hard to believe….maybe you don’t need me.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to avoid your gaze and as you watched him, you immediately knew his answer. He didn’t trust you. You looked down at Brad before shaking your head,” You know what, if you don’t believe me then fine.”

“ If you want to be a good guy, watch him and call MJ,” You grabbed a clean towel and threw it at Peter before storming away towards the door. Once you opened it you turned back to Peter who was still in shock,” and you’re right, I don’t need you.”

@spaghetittiesbcimgay @holland-in-disguise @yeahimcrying @greatpizzascissorstaco @mysticalbanshee @weyheyavengers @infinityflamesworld @fandom-fangirl22 @peterparkoure @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @marvel4geeks @sad-sagita @juliebean247 @quitepointless @bannanasz @spideyyeet @cherrysruin

545 notes · View notes

ymiwritesstuff · 4 years ago

Note

I know I've already given you a request but this is stuck in my head. Could you do a Gyro x female vampire reader who is trying to go without feeding but just becomes weaker as a result and Gyro has to help her? Thank you and you're amazing!!!

Aah, thanks so much for the request and I am so sorry this took so long. I hope this will make up for it. I tried my best as I still need to get used to writing regularly but I sincerely hope you enjoy this!

Regaining Strength

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run

Gyro Zeppeli x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Summary: When the sun begins to raise the three travelers find themselves spending the upcoming day resting at a motel. However you quickly notice something isn’t right and it doesn’t take long before a certain Italian offers his help.

Notes: A bit of blood

The sun peaked over the vast horizon, bringing the rays of yet another morning with it and coating the area in a pleasant warm glow. This would mean yet another day of tiring riding for the majority of the racers of the Steel Ball Run, but not for a certain group of three.

The staff of the small motel looked at you and the two males rather curiously when you reserved a room to spend the day in, having been riding on horseback the entire night. Competitors occasionally traveled during the dark time of the day, however, none did this as consistently and often as you did. And the sole reason for this unusual time of travel was you.

Being a vampire provided a certain set of advantages but with those advantages came things that made life just a tad bit more difficult. Any exposure to sunlight could mean certain death for someone like you so the only way you could advance in the already dangerous race was doing so only when the sun set. Fortunately for you, you quickly found yourself in the company of Johnny and Gyro, the latter of which you had grown quite fond of during the Steel Ball Run.

After the curtains of the room you were to reside in had been closed and the young Joestar fell into a deep sleep on one of the beds, you found yourself looking around the quite charming space surrounding you, while secretly looking for any places from which the deadly sun could seep through. Gyro stood in front of the now-closed curtains and carefully peeked through, as he often did.

“Damn, the daytime looks so weird now. Who knew I’d get used to being awake at night so quickly,” he said while his emerald eyes scanned the sight of the morning before him. You looked at him while standing next to one of the empty beds and chuckled lightly. “Welcome to my world.” The Italian glanced at you and flashed a grin that slightly showed his golden teeth before turning back to the window.

“You sure you don’t wanna come take a look at this? The sun looks awfully pretty today,” he joked, knowing full well that his request would receive no action as you weren’t dumb enough to walk into certain death. Still, you played along.

“Oh, really? Well, perhaps I should-”

“When did you last eat?”

Suddenly, completely out of nowhere your legs gave out and you instinctively relied on the bed next to you for support. Your vision got strangely blurry and everything around you seemed to spin and distort in all kinds of ways. Having heard your sentence cut short as well as the small groan that left your mouth, Gyro quickly turned around, his previous joking attitude disappearing entirely.

“(Name)? Everything alright?” He swiftly approached you and helped you on your feet once more, however the strange dizziness was still very much apparent. “Y-yeah... I just... Felt dizzy all of a sudden...” Your hands held onto him for support while your mind tried to go through the possible causes for this sudden sensation. You were just about to realize what made you feel this sick, but Gyro seemed to reach a conclusion faster.

His question immediately caused you to look up at him and you began thinking back at the earlier events of the night. The distance you rode with your horses was a long one and Gyro made sure you were properly fed the entire time. However, for some reason, the feeling of hunger never hit you, or you had somehow managed to ignore it entirely. “Just before we started moving,” you say quietly, as you know that he realized just how many hours it had been.

Consuming blood was something you never enjoyed, yet you had to do it in order to stay alive. Starvation was already bad for a human, but when a vampire like you was in its clutches, things could get dangerous quickly. Gyro stayed quiet for a few seconds and you expected him to scold you for allowing yourself to go without food for such a long time, but instead, he let go of you and walked to the bed you had been next to, sitting down.

“Alright, you know the drill,” he said and began to remove his scarf that was loosely around his neck, the sight of which immediately made your eyes glow. “You know I’ll worry my ass off if you don’t eat.” His voice was unusually serious. Despite his playful and sometimes sarcastic personality, Gyro took you and anything you needed very seriously, to the point where he didn’t mind offering his blood in order to keep you strong. However, he also knew of your unwillingness to feed on human blood, let alone his.

“Gyro... You know I don’t want to. Besides, I feel just fine. Look,” You spun around a couple of times to try to convince him that you didn’t feel the previous dizziness anymore. But you couldn’t control the underlying desire to consume the delicious liquid flowing under the skin of his neck. Gyro looked at you, giving you a look that was not impressed by your convincing and you secretly knew he wasn’t going to let this one go.

“(Name), you know damn well I’m not gonna move or rest until you’ve been fed.” He said, still looking at you with eyes that were filled with determination and slight worry. He was stubborn about all of this, but it only because he cared. His gaze softened lightly. “I’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head off.” The small hint of playfulness in his voice returned and admittedly eased your discomfort slightly. However, you were still reluctant.

“But... What if I drink too much?” Your thoughts immediately went back to the last time you had drunk his blood and just how overwhelming the feeling had been. It was always risky and the last thing you wanted was to hurt him. His brows frowned slightly, but his gorgeous emerald green eyes were still locked on your currently weakened form.

“You won’t.” This caused you to finally look at him. The amount of confidence his words had puzzled you, how could he be so sure? “Gyro, this isn’t a game. How could you possibly know-”

“Because I trust you.” The way he spoke stuck to you like tar, his words reaching the very core of your being. He knew the risks, but was still willing to help you in any way he could, from traveling at night just so he could have you near him, to offering you his very own blood that you needed now more than ever. You accepted defeat with a sigh and made your way to him. It was not merely because his words and trust in a creature of the night had such an effect on you, it was also because the unbearable lust for blood seemed to partially be controlling your movements, your nose picking up the scent of the liquid under his skin.

You swallowed nervously as you sat next to him, the sound of his blood flowing in his veins echoing in your ears. “Just... Please tell me if it gets too intense,” you said, voice barely audible. “Sure thing, cara.” You barely caught the reassuring grin he flashed you as your eyes were already staring at the spot you desperately wanted to sink your fangs into. With slow movements, you lowered yourself to his neck and could hear his heart beating rapidly, despite his calm demeanor from the outside. It calmed you in a way.

With a small sniff you took in the captivating scent of his blood and after placing a gentle kiss on the soft skin of his neck, you pierced the delicate flesh with your fangs and immediately felt him flinch. You held onto him and as soon as the warm liquid hit the sensitive sensors on your tongue, something snapped within you, and that overwhelming lust you experienced last time you did this only seemed to grow. With every gulp, you regained your strength, and the more you consumed, the more addicting it became

It was unreal. Your claws gripped onto the material of his shirt and the desire to feel stronger kept your fangs in his neck even after you had devoured enough. You couldn’t stop. You wanted more. You needed more. All the surrounding sounds were overpowered by your own inner voices demanding more of that heavenly blood of his. It was intense, and Gyro could feel it too.

“W-woah... Hey, listen, (Name),” he said, his voice becoming much quieter and raspier. He felt his blood being drained from him and as your lust grew and your grip on him tightened, he knew it was time to stop. “I... I think you’ve had enough...” He gently grabbed your shoulders, which fortunately seemed to bring you back to reality as almost immediately, he could no longer feel your fangs digging into his skin.

Your (E/C) eyes looked up at him, worry sparkling in them. You were so quick to check up on him, you didn’t even notice the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth. “Are you okay?” You simply asked, feeling stronger than before, but worried about his condition. As a response, he merely chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. And you seem to be as well.” He said and looked at you, noting just how much better and healthier you looked. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and after you wipe the remaining liquid from your lips, you gently bring them to his cheek, as a sign of gratitude.

“Thank you.”

Gyro grinned at your action and immediately threw his arm around you. “Anything for you. Oh, and thank you for not killing me.” He joked once again, which made you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Of course, dear. If you died who would be my personal blood bag?”

The fact that he seemingly took this lightly was unbelievable to you, but then again, Gyro Zeppeli was one of a kind and you were fortunate to have him by your side.

#jjba #jojo #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Steel Ball Run #gyro #gyro zeppeli #jjba gyro #jojo gyro #gyro x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #reader insert

136 notes · View notes

takemebacktowheniwassane · 3 years ago

Conversation

Oh, Incorrect Quotes Generator

Alana: Anyone d-

Connor: Depressed?

Jared: Drained?

Evan: Dumb?

Alana: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people...

This one's a bit more?? Um?? Non-kid friendly TTvTT

Zoe: Guys, is having a penis fun?

Connor: It has its ups and downs.

Evan: It's gets a little hard sometimes.

Jared: IT'S A PAIN IN THE ASS!

Zoe: Jesus fuck, you guys.

Evan: You're a loose cannon, Jared.

Jared: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon, maybe. But a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Alana: I think you play by your own rules.

Zoe: No way, he thinks rules were meant to be broken.

Evan: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Jared: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Connor is the real loose cannon.

Connor: *Smashes a chair*

Evan, trying to convince Connor to join the group: You know... I just thought it'd be good to have someone to come along who's... strong!

Alana: And loud!

Zoe: And grumpy!

Jared: And oblivious to reality!

Connor:

Alana: What did you guys get in your yearbooks?

Zoe: 'Prettiest smile!' :)

Evan: 'Nicest personality!' :)

Jared: 'Most likely to start a bar fight.'

Connor: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one.'

Zoe: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!

Evan: Tubular AF!

Alana: Mood to the max!

Connor, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.

Jared, just as annoyed: If she breathes she's a square.

Evan: You KIDNAPPED Connor?! That's illegal!!

Jared: But Evan, what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing Connor, or destroying our dreams?

Evan: Kidnapping Connor, Jared!!

Zoe: Evan, listen, whatever I may think of you right now- these people need you to inspire them!

Evan: What, to KIDNAP PEOPLE?!?!

Zoe: To work together!

Evan: TO KIDNAP PEOPLE!?!?

Jared: Evan, I thought we both agreed, a stoner is not a people.

Alana: Evan, stop! This isn't you! You've gone mad with power!

Evan: Well, of course I have.

Evan: Have you ever tried going mad without power?

Evan: It's boring.

Evan: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

Jared: What was that??

Evan: Remorse code.

Jared: I'm even angrier at you now.

Connor, high off his ass: I'm at least 10 times funnier and sexier than you.

Evan: But 10 times 0 is just 0.

Zoe: Then I guess the jokes on you, because he can't do math.

Jared: I can explain.

Evan: Can you?

Jared: If you give me 30 seconds to think of a lie.

Jared: If you were to vacuum up jello, it'd make a neat noise.

Evan: I beg to differ.

Jared: Then beg.

Jared: This is such a bad idea.

Evan: Then why are you coming along?

Jared: One of us needs to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this all goes terribly wrong.

Connor: *Accidentally hits Jared in the face*

Connor: *Can't decide between saying 'I'm fucking sorry', and 'Are you okay'*

Connor: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY??

Evan: What is wrong with you?!

Evan: This is bothering me.

Jared: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Evan: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

Jared: You're the love of my life, and my best friend. I would do anything for you.

Evan: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

Jared: Absolutely not.

Jared: I was arrested for being too cool.

Connor: The charges were dropped due to lack of supporting evidence.

Jared: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Evan: You and me.

Jared, tearing up: Okay.

Jared: God, give me patience.

Connor: I think you mean strength.

Jared: If God gave me strength, then you'd be double dead.

Connor: I prevented a murder today.

Alana: Really? How did you do that?

Connor: Self control.

Jared: I am not out of control! I am a law abiding citizen!

Evan: Name one law.

Jared: Don't kill people?

Evan: That one's on me. I set the bar too low.

Alana: Whaddaya call a fish with no eye?

Jared, not looking up from his phone: Myxine Circifrons.

Alana:

Alana: A fsh

Evan: I turned out perfectly fine!

Zoe: This morning you thought a ghost made your toast!

Evan: I DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN, Y O U DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN-

Jared: WHAT'S YOUR TYPE

Evan: Anything, honestly. But nerds especially.

Jared, desperately as Evan bleeds out: YOUR B L O O D TYPE

Evan: Oh! B positive.

Jared: DON'T TRY TO CHEER ME UP, JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Evan:

Evan: It's dark in here...

Jared: Don't worry dude, I've got this

Jared: *Stomps his foot on the ground*

Jared: *Heelies light up*

Evan: Treat spiders the way YOU want to be treated!

Jared: Killed without hesitation.

Alana & Evan, simultaneously: nO-

Miguel: Let's watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Connor: Okay?

Miguel: And make out during the scary parts.

Connor: The-

Connor: The scary parts-

Connor: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl?

Evan: Can you PLEASE be serious for 5 minutes??

Jared: My record is 4, but I think I can do it.

Evan: So that's my plan.

Jared: Are you fine with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean.

Evan: Sure, go ahead.

Jared: It fucking sucks.

Evan: That's not constructive criticism.

Jared: Fuck.

Alana: We've got to work on your cursing.

Jared: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

Connor: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao

Evan: What did you do-?

Connor: A MISTAKE-

Larry, with his back turned: I've been expecting you.

Connor: How did you do that without turning around?

Larry: I'm gonna be honest, the first couple of people I did that to were not you.

Evan: How petty can you get??

Jared: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Jared: Today is a day of running through hurdles.

Alana: Aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles?

Jared: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

Jared: May I sit there?

Evan: That's my lap.

Jared: That doesn't answer my question, Evan.

Jared: So.. are we flirting right now?

Connor: I'm LITERALLY stabbing you.

Jared:

Jared: That does not answer the question

Aftermath of the last one- lmfao-

Evan: I'm begging you, please go to the hospital-

Jared: Oh, i'm sorry, is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Jared: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Connor: Do you mean literally or figuratively?

Jared: The fact that I have to specify...

Evan: Jail is no fun. I'll tell you that much.

Connor: Oh, you've been?

Evan: Once. In Monopoly.

Evan: Your right.

Jared: That's... an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

Jared: Petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday.

Connor, high: Wednesay.

Jared: Not what I had in mind, but i'm flexible.

Alana: Man.. I only ever see you awake. Don't you ever shut down or stop running?

Jared: Oh, i'm always running.

Jared: The question is from what.

Evan: Top 30 reasons why Evan is super sorry! ..Number 5 might surprise you!

Jared: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!

#deh dearevanhansen evanhansendeh connormurphydeh jaredkleinmandeh alanabeckdeh migueldeh zoemurphydeh larrymurphydeh kleinsen #conman kleinphy incorrectquotes lol

6 notes · View notes