#slapping it over this white boy feels... right now

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 1 [Draft]

Saja Boys x Isekaid!Demon?Reader x Huntrix

Content Warnings: This chapter contains elements of gore—this is a work of fiction, I do not condone or glorify violence in real life; Historical Inaccuracies—I'm not well-versed in Korea's history, culture, and language, so please go easy on me 🙏

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

You open your eyes to a sky soaked in midnight.

For a split second, it feels like surfacing from deep underwater—like you’d been holding your breath for hours, maybe longer, and finally, finally clawed your way back to air. A gasp tears through your throat. It's dry. Scraped. Your lungs burn.

You don’t remember why.

The thought barely formed before it unraveled, slipping from your grasp like mist. You couldn't hold onto it. You couldn't hold onto anything—not the shape of your thoughts, not the tremor rocking through your limbs, not the heat that was now beginning to simmer low in your belly.

The air is thick, heavy. It clings to your skin like oil.

Your chest heaves and every inhale fans, rough and dry through a sore throat. The pain was dull—muted by something louder inside.

A churning.

A clawing.

Hunger.

A primal impulse, ancient and raw, rising from the depths of your core like a beast pressing its face against the inside of your skin.

You stumbled forward.

The road beneath you was weathered stone, every step digging into your bare feet. But it didn’t register—not really. The fog coiling between unfamiliar stone buildings. The eerie silence. The cold of the air brushing your exposed skin. Even your own body felt strange.

Your limbs feel too long. Your balance, off. The soft fabric hanging from your shoulders. Something whispers, “You’re not quite right.” To someone too far gone to care.

But your legs moved anyway, like it’s done this before, dragging you forward, nose tilted to the air without realizing, following a scent you couldn’t name even if you were conscious enough to try.

All you knew was that it needed to be fed.

——oOo——

Her name was Hae-Bok. "Great fortune." A name her mother gave her during a time when hope still bloomed on dirt roads and prayers still worked.

But there was no fortune in this alley tonight.

“Shhh. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

The hand clamped over her mouth stinks of tobacco and something fouler. His nails dig into her cheek as he jerks her head back, and she kicks blindly at air.

They tied her up. Back to the damp bricks, the ropes around her wrists are tight, ankles scraped raw, mouth gagged, the cut across her cheek stinging where a ringed hand had slapped her earlier. Six men towered before her. She could see their silhouettes under the moonlight, could hear their laughter—dry, hollow, like wolves joking about which part of the deer to chew first.

“Pretty face,” one of them sneered. “Shame we have to sell it piece by piece.”

The words turn her insides to ice. Her mouth tastes like bile behind the gag.

Hae-Bok—daughter of no one, mother to one—her thoughts circled like trapped birds.

Yul-ri… my baby…

The words were muffled behind the cloth in her mouth. Her scream died there. Her tears did not.

She imagined her daughter's tiny hands, her feverish little forehead, the way she always smiled with her two front teeth when Hae-Bok brought back rice and sweet porridge. That smile, that little face, was the only thing she lived for. But now—

What’ll happen when she doesn’t come home? Does she still have enough rice in the sack? Will she know who to go to—will anyone care?

A sob cracks through her nose.

And then—

Then, everything changes.

In the span of one blink, the men were gone.

The alley was… not the alley. Or rather, it was, but wrong. Warped. As though the space itself had tilted—shifted—her somewhere sideways, just far enough from the danger that it felt more like a nightmare than an escape.

And in front of her…

A woman.

Draped in white, flowing and stained faintly at the edges, as though dipped in smoke and ash,  barefoot and still as bone. The mist curled around her, yet no breath steamed from her lips.

Ice prickled along Hae-Bok’s skin.

She shuffled backward instinctively until her spine met the wall. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, fast, terrified.

The woman in white took a step forward.

The air around her bit like winter when she knelt.

Hae-Bok flinched, her eyes squeezed shut in dread.

This was it. This was the end. If the men didn’t kill her, this ghost would.

But—

Shk.

The cords around her wrists fell slack. Her ankles, freed. The cloth gag slipped from her mouth, its middle cut through by something sharp.

She opens her eyes.

The cold intensifies.

The ghost was close. Too close.

The ghost’s finger—long, unnaturally pointed—pressed gently to Hae-Bok’s lips.

Her hair hangs in tangled mess, but even through the veil of it, there are eyes.

But there was no hostility. Just… cold. And something inhuman in the glint.

You look as lost as she is.

“Don’t scream.”

And then—

Gone.

The mist parted.

The sounds of men's screams echo from far off—twisted, distant, coming through a thick fog.

But Hae-Bok was already moving. Running. Her legs screamed in protest, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She doesn’t wait to question it. Doesn’t want to look. She didn’t care.

She follows her memory, her instincts. Her daughter's face in her mind.

She remembered the way.

Home. Home. Home.

The fog thins as she sprints through the empty road. Her fingers find the old wooden door. She fumbles with it. Opens.

“Eomma!”

The little voice broke her.

Yul-ri leapt into her arms, toothy smile bright like a lamp in the dark.

Tears spill as Hae-Bok crumples to the floor, clutching her daughter as if to fuse their bodies back together, sobbing, whispering thank yous over and over into her child’s hair through cracked lips, breathless and trembling.

To the ghost in the mist.

——oOo——

“Aishhh—michin geoya, where the hell did that woman go?!”

Gwak Seol-jun’s voice echoed sharply down the alley walls, rough and ragged with disbelief. His boots stomped through the puddles as he kicked over an empty basket and snarled at the shadows. “She was right here! Tied up like a pig, mouth stuffed. You—you saw her, didn’t you?!”

His underlings—five in total—glanced at each other. One scratched the back of his head with a grimace.

“I swear on my late mother, Boss, she was right where you’re standing…”

Gwak Seol-jun whipped around and smacked the nearest man across the face with the back of his hand. The crack of it echoed like a whip. The man staggered.

“Don’t swear on dead people when your eyes can’t even catch a walking corpse,” he spat. “That widow owed me five nyang of silver, and not a single coin paid back.”

He paced, fuming. “I knew she was useless the moment she came crawling to borrow coin for that sick brat of hers. All tears and shaking hands. Thought I was being generous—offering mercy to some abandoned sow who’d fetch a decent price if we kept her face intact.”

Another man chuckled. “She was pretty. Could’ve warmed us all up before sending her south. Eunhae Market likes them soft and quiet.”

The others laughed.

Seol-jun smirked, but the edge in his voice sharpened. “And now she’s gone. Vanished like a ghost, with no rope, no blood, no sign. What—do you all think she flew away on her dead husband’s back?”

He turned to bark another insult, but something stopped him.

A hum.

Not sound exactly. Not music either. But resonance. A low, slow vibration that sank into the bones and made the teeth ache.

The temperature sank low, far too quickly for a summer night. The air, damp and sticky moments ago, had turned thin and brittle, like frost pressing against the skin. And the fog—thicker than before—rolled in silent waves down the alley, a pale sheen gathered along the edge. The lantern on the post flickered.

One of the men dropped his half-chewed tobacco stick.

The others fell quiet.

The youngest—Mu-sik—gulped, stepping back. “Boss…”

“What now?!”

And there—at the mouth of the alley where the mist bled from the darkness—stood a figure.

A woman.

Draped in white, bare-footed, still as death. Her hair hung wild around her face, strands glinting like wet silk. Her robe was unlike anything Seol-jun had seen—old, not peasant’s wear, nor noble’s silk, but something older, far older. Goryeo? No—Silla, maybe. But it shimmered faintly like starlight trapped in rice cloth.

Her face obscured, only lips and chin, she hadn’t looked up.

Yet she was walking. Slowly. Toward them.

“…What the fuck…” Seol-jun muttered, squinting. “You one of the temple freaks or something?”

No answer.

He stepped forward, scoffing, posturing with a sneer. “What, did the widow hire you to play bulgasal and scare us in the fog? Tsk.”

“…”

“You don’t even talk? Stupid bitch.”

Still nothing, the mist coiled at her feet like a living thing.

“Oi. I’m talking to you, whore.” His voice grew more venomous. “You think you’re scary with your funeral gown and silence? Hah. Scared some street rats already? Try me.”

He waved a hand sharply. “Grab her. Break her legs if you have to, I want answers—now.”

They men moved. All but one.

Mu-sik again—spoke up. “Boss… I-I don’t like this. Something’s not right…”

“Did I ask for your feelings, beoseon?!” Seol-jun snapped, turning to smack him again.

Thump.

He paused.

Mu-sik’s face had gone pale.

Eyes locked behind Seol-jun.

Thump.

Another sound behind him.

Then another.

He turned.

The alley was quiet.

Too quiet.

Four bodies lay crumpled like discarded sacks on the cobbled stone.

Not a drop of blood. Not a wound on their bodies.

Just… gone.

Their chests no longer rose.

Their eyes were open, but stared into nothing.

And the woman in white was still walking forward.

Each barefoot step eerily soundless, her presence devouring the space around her like a tide made of mist and death.

Seol-jun’s bravado withered. His sneer slipped into a grimace, then panic.

“N-no…” he stammered. “What are you…?”

Then, on instinct, he grabbed Mu-sik by the shoulders and shoved him forward like a human shield.

“Go! Stop her! Do something!”

Mu-sik stumbled, protesting—“Boss—!”

But he didn’t make it halfway.

A few seconds passed.

Then his shoulders sagged. His head slumped forward.

No sound.

Just stillness.

Seol-jun, breathing hard, let go.

Mu-sik’s body dropped like a severed puppet.

His eyes stared upward. Vacant. Hollow.

Soulless.

“AAAARGH!”

The scream that tore from Seol-jun’s throat was thin, unmanly—pure terror given voice.

He staggered backward, hands scrabbling behind him until his back slammed into the stone wall of the alley. The impact rattled him, but he didn’t care. He looked left. Right. No escape. The fog was so thick now he could no longer see the sides of the alley—no windows, no corners, only endless, pale mist.

“Help—someone—ANYONE—”

He tried to scream again—

But he never got the chance.

A hand clamped down over his mouth.

Hard.

Ice-cold fingers dug into his face—so cold it burned, the way frozen metal did in deep winter. The claws—because they were claws—sank into the meat of his cheeks, holding him in place as if he weighed nothing.

CRACK.

His head slammed into the stone behind him. White exploded behind his eyes.

Pain flared up the back of his skull like lightning.

The fog swirled.

The cold grew worse.

His eyes rolled upward in panic, following the arm that held him—smooth, inhumanly flawless, glowing with intricate floral markings like plum blossoms inked in moonlight. The patterns curled over skin too perfect to be real, too delicate to belong to something so deadly.

They followed up—past the wrist, the throat.

And then—

Your face.

Half-shadowed by your disheveled hair, lips parting just enough to reveal sharp, inhuman fangs.

Your eyes—

Turning blazing red.

Hungry.

Unforgiving.

The last sound Gwak Seol-jun ever made was a strangled whimper lost behind your hand.

Then the light in his eyes vanished—

Sucked away into the void where your hunger waited.

——oOo——

Blue.

So appetizing—so warm.

They float just out of reach, like fireflies in fog. They pulse, thrum, shimmer against your dimming vision like stars underwater. You want them. You need them.

And they’re yours.

Warm sloshes in your belly.

A little relief. A dull throb of satisfaction.

But not enough.

Still hungry.

You blink.

Everything’s blurry.

Colors don’t make sense—shapes even less. The only things that register are glowing blue—faint, flickering. Floating and slipping away like stars sinking into water.

You wanted them.

You had them.

You remember that.

But they're gone now.

Nothing left.

Nothing glowing.

Only red.

Your eyes shift.

Red.

It doesn’t glow like the blue. But somehow, in the foggy maze of your thoughts, it still looks… appetizing.

Your head tilts. Your legs carry you forward without command.

Something soft brushes against your face.

You open your mouth.

Bite.

Your teeth sink into something plush, still warm. A mouthful, liquid floods over your tongue—coppery, thick, soothing. You suck, the way a starving animal drinks from a spring.

Something heavy slumps under you.

Your hands move again.

You’re pressing—pushing into something soft and wet. Your fingers find something solid and pulsing once. Still warm. You pull.

A sound squelches as it tears free.

You shove it into your mouth and bite. Chew.

The soreness in your throat eases with every swallow. The heat in your stomach cools—just a little.

Not enough.

Again.

Your body repeats the motion. Crawl. Grab. Bite. Suck. Rip. Chew. Swallow.

Another drained. Another devoured.

Sometimes, there were the hard parts, but they crumbled in your mouth soon after.

You lose track of how many.

Only that you kept going.

And going.

You don’t know where one ends and another begins.

You don’t want to know.

You only want the hunger to end.

So, you keep eating. Keep drinking. Keep tearing.

Again. Again. Again.

Until the screaming in your stomach starts to quiet.

You blink.

Your vision clears.

Like waking up from a sleep you didn’t know you were in.

Your body… hurts.

Your head pounds—a sharp ache flaring behind your eyes. You squint against it, groaning softly. Slowly, you become aware of your position.

You’re… sitting.

Sitting… in an alley?

Under a full moon.

The mist drapes the air like silk, the entrance to the street still hazy, still glowing faint.

And on the stone ground…

Ripped fabrics.

Red-stained.

Your eyes scan slowly, heart thudding.

Then they land in your lap.

Glinting. Metal. A ring—

Pale. Bent. Jointed.

—on a severed finger.

“—!!”

Your scream tears free from your raw throat.

The finger tumbles to the ground with a soft thup, rolling away like a loose coin.

You clutch your mouth, trembling, but something wet trails down your chin.

Drip.

You touch it.

Your thumb comes away red.

You stare.

Your body trembles harder.

Your other hand follows—both palms now raised, shaking in front of you.

Slick.

Sticky.

You can smell it.

The metal scent in the air.

Blood.

It’s all blood.

Your breathing stutters. Sharp. Loud. Too loud. Your lungs won’t fill properly. The world tilts. The panic is crashing in—now.

Your stomach twist—you want to threw up but something prevented you to.

“No—no no no—” you rasp, voice thin and hoarse.

You remember.

You remember everything—blue, red, hunger, and now—

You needed to get out.

Get out.

You scrambled, hands against something solid—an old crate, or maybe a wall. You force yourself upright. Your legs wobbled violently.

But you move.

One step.

Then another.

Then another.

Then you’re running.

Or stumbling—anything to get away.

Blindly.

The fog parts ahead of you like a curtain.

You don’t notice.

You don’t notice how it curls back, yielding to your steps.

You don’t see the way the buildings blur around you—roofs giving way to branches, lanterns replaced with moonlit leaves, stone beneath your feet slowly shifting to dirt, to roots, to uneven patches of grass.

Your body keeps going.

You heave.

You pant.

You trip—

And you collapse.

Your knees hit the earth. Then your side.

You lay there, curled, sobbing.

The sound of water rushing nearby—soft, steady—cradles you like a lullaby.

And finally,

Everything fades to black.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [20/06/2025]

[fernsplace]

FAMILY TREE! *ೃ༄

summary: he raised you better than this. he raised you to be good. you're made to think you've contaminated your family's reputation. all in the search for the truth. word ct: 1.9k content: angry father. verbal abuse. religious themes. negative views of religion. religious guilt. unclean, in the biblical sense. soft!sam. suggestive ending. emotional intimacy. notes: this is the fifth chapter of my series, PREACHER'S DAUGHTER!

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

< CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER SIX >

your father’s grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles white and angry. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you. the gravel road rattles the car, and every bump feels like a bruise.

your mother sits in the passenger seat, lips pressed tightly together. her hands are folded near in her lap. is she praying or bracing herself for what’s to come? you wonder if prayer is necessary.

inside, the light are too bright. like a spotlight. you go straight to your room, figuring you’d be sent there anyway. better to get out of the rain now than wait for the storm.

you stand still for a moment in the center of your room, afraid to get comfortable. you’re unsure what to do with youself. for split second you consider getting down on your knees.

you hear the creak of floorboards and a knock follows. then your father’s voice, low and steady. "come out here."

you obey. not because you want to, but because it’s easier this way. you follow him to the kitchen, where he leans against the counter. arms crossed. you hold your breath.

“sit”, he says. not unkindly. that’s what scares you most.

your mother hovers near the hallway, arms wrapped around herself. her eyes follow you as you take a seat. the silence stretches too long. then your father speaks.

“do you know what it looks like?” he starts, “for the preacher’s daughter to sneak out of church? with a boy?”

you don't answer, and he leans forward. when the preacher talks, he demands his silence.

"do you know what it does to your name? to your mother’s? to mine?"

you feel it in your stomach. a sickening mix of guilt and resentment.

he exhales through his nose. you can tell he’s trying to bury his rage.

"i raised you better than this." his words are sharp.

your bottom lip quivers, but you don’t cry. not yet.

"we gave you everything. we built you a life. we kept you safe. from—from boys like that. and you repay us by... by walking out with a stranger like you were raised in a barn?"

you swallow hard.

"you don’t even know him like that.” your voice trembles, and your vision is blurring with tears.

"i don’t need to."

“we didn’t do anything.” your voice was just barely above a whisper.

your father sighed. “it’s not about what you did or didn’t do, it’s about the message it sends." he wiped his hand over his face.

you look to your mother. her eyes meet yours. they’re unreadable.

your father goes on. "you think I don’t see what’s happening? you hesitate. you’re silent during prayer. the way you look at the door like you’re waiting for something better to walk through."

you bite the inside of your lip. “i just wanna understand.” a single tear lips down your cheeks. you can’t face his eyes.

"what? what is it that you can’t understand?”

"everything. why we are the way we are. why church feels like punishment. why—why i can’t ever do anything right by you.” you cry.

he stares, then shakes his head. “you feel like that because you're believing lies to be truth. and do not blame me for your feelings.”

“how do you know anything is the truth? why can’t i dec—“

“you’re too young to decide that.” he slaps his hand to the counter.

“i’m twenty—“

“i don’t care if you’re four, twenty, i don’t care if you’re goddamn fifty. you live in my house, under my rules.” his voice loud.

a priest using the lord’s name in vein felt sinful.

you stand. “no, dad. i think i finally understand.” you raise your voice. it’s not strong, but it’s enough.

your mother shifts, but does nothing more.

"until you come to your senses, you’re grounded. no phone. no friends. no more distractions."

you feel the walls close in, and you shout. “i don’t have friends, i don’t have anyone in this town! i spend all my time at the fucking church wishing i felt what everybody else is feeling!”

"oh, don’t you raise your voice at me.” he straightens, side stepping around the counter. “that boy will never set foot near the church again."

you turn on your heels and walk back to your room before he can say anything else. you hear your mom approach him, mumbling.

you slam the door, letting the tears fall fast. your chest heaves and you can barely catch your breath. you slide down the door, fingers tangling rough in your hair.

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

that night, you lie awake for hours. your cheeks are tear stained and your eyes are bloodshot. the moonlight filters through your curtains and it illuminates the bible on your nightstand.

god might still be out there, but He sure as hell doesn’t live in this house.

with a sigh, you throw on a sweater. you stand still for a moment, listening for creaks in the hallway. once you were sure your parents went to bed, you opened the window.

you climb out like you used to do as a kid when you wanted to lie in the grass and watch the stars. the air is cool against your skin. the wind brushed softly though your hair.

you know where you’re going. past the fields and the silos. down the gravel road and toward the willow.

once you're there, you push through the leaves, and under the soft glow of the moonlight is sam.

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

he looks up when you approach. he wears tired eyes and an apologetic smile. he says nothing, just pats the grass beside him.

it’s cold and prickly on your legs. the twinkle of the moon and the occasional firefly are your only sources of light. yet the whites of his eyes still sparkle.

you find comfort in the silence. but you both have something to say.

he stares forward, arms resting on his knees. he doesn’t ask until he’s sure you’re ready. when your unwrap your arms from your body and bring them down to twist blades of grass between your fingers.

“how bad?”

“best case scenario.”

he looked at you, his head cocked to the side.

“wasn’t kicked out.” you shrugged. you’re coming off braver than you felt.

he nodded.

“what’d he say?”

you exhaled sharply, almost a laugh. “every word he could possibly use in place of calling his daughter a whore.” you felt an ache in your chest, and your eyes threatened to glass over.

his gaze is soft. he doesn’t try to offer his apologies. not yet anyway. instead, he lets you speak.

you lie back, looking through the leaves. it’s comforting—the grass framing your body. it cradles you. sam stays put.

“he thinks i’m turning away from god,” you start. crickets chirp among the tall grass. “but i’m not sure i ever believed he was really there.”

“no?” sam questioned, voice blending with the gentle hum of the trees. his eyes were still fixed on you. you felt them. not looking through you, but reading you. studying you. he wanted to understand you.

you shake your head, you shift your eyes to meet his above. they’re very pretty in the moonlight.

“sometimes, i thought i felt Him. but it never felt right. like i was always in trouble. like someone was watching my every move… like i’ll fuck up any second…become a sinner,”

“i prayed every night as a kid, that i’d be different in the morning. that i’d be good.”

sam let out a breath. he stayed quiet. his eyes never left your face. they traced every curve of your jaw and crease of your eyelid.

he lifted his hand, bringing it to your temple. he swept a strand of hair from your face, and his fingers brushed over your scalp. he continued. despite his stature, his touch was tender and bore no weight.

he hummed, an invitation to keep talking.

“i’d tell myself that i was good. but those eyes—“ you sniffled. “i’m starting think it was just…my dad. he’s so insistent in who i’m supposed to be. when i’m with him, i feel this guilt in my stomach. and—and since forever, i’ve attributed it to god’s distaste. but, i’m realizing that—“ you paused.

“it was just his. the parish's. maybe i never felt god at all. maybe he can’t save me.”

your voice tapered off, trembling. you lean into sam’s touch. “do you really believe?” you whisper, rolling your head to look at him.

you don’t wanna know the half of it, he wanted to say.

“i do.” you’re a bit shocked. “i’ve seen enough to know he’s there, just…not in the way most think. i don’t think he lives in churches, or people’s homes.” he knows what it's like to feel unclean.

you watch him curiously. he speaks with genuine belief. “where does he live?” you ask.

he shifts. he’s not going tell you that god is no better than a dead beat dad. “in people, i think.” he opts for, and he remains somewhat truthful. he believes that some people think of god as an almighty decision maker—someone who tells them the right way to live. and, he understands. he understands the need to have something greater to look to.

you soften. “i try to find meaning in everything. and if i write it down, or draw it, then maybe it'll tell me something.”

his hand pauses momentarily as he thinks. and he lowers it to run along the bottom of your jaw.

“maybe it already has.” he murmurs.

his eyes are darker tonight. they’re filled with intent and something else that you can’t quite describe. a cool breeze nips at your skin.

you're suddenly aware of the warmth that radiates from his fingers, and your heart flutters in your chest. it thumps against your rib cage.

“you’re different. a good different.” he added, “you’re hunting something. most settle for what they’re told."

your cheeks flush.

"you?”

sam doesn’t answer right away. he lays down on his side, one hand elevating his head, while the other stays cradles your head, thumb moving lightly over your skin. an unfamiliar warmth washes over you.

"i guess i stopped believing that there was anything good waiting for me. until now.”

your lips part, trying to form a sentence. the air between you is suddenly thick, and the breeze has halted.

"why me?” you dare to ask.

his voice is low, almost a whisper. "because we're not all that different.”

the moment lingers, and you turn on your side to face him. you’re so close, you can feel his warm breath hit the tip of your nose.

you take ahold of his wrist, but you don’t move it.

“if you touch me,” you begin, “my father will say it’s sin.”

“let him.”

your breath hitches and he intertwines his fingers with yours. his palm is warm and calloused. hardened presumably from years of honest work.

he guides you to your back, and raises your hand to the grass next your head. slowly, he moves himself to hover over you.

“for the record, i don’t think you need saving—“

he places one leg between yours. you’re cheeks are pink with anticipation now. and your heart thumps in your ears. your body feels fuzzy.

“—just someone who will see you for who you are.” he breathes.

he lowers his head towards yours. the tips of his hair curls at the ends and it covers his forehead. you wanted to reach out and touch it. so, you lift a hesitant hand to brush his hair back. he doesn’t resist, rather he dips his chin lower. your lips are almost brushing.

“will you let me?”

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

if you'd like to be added to my taglist let me know! don't be shy!

taglist: @ambiguous-avery . @iamaslytherin0 . @zenoxl

[arminsumi]

ㅤ★ ONETWOTHREEFOUR — MAX!

... bully!Gojo loves fucking you in the bathroom stall, turning his creampies into whipped cream inside you. But you know what else he loves? Plugging you up with a vibrator and surprising you by turning it on mid-lecture — and passing the control over to his best friend.

ㅤ★ requested by anon / promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, secret public sex/nearly caught (poor confused Choso just getting moaned at), multiple orgasms/creampies, remote toy control, Suguru gets passed the remote, dirty talk, some spanking/ass slapping

There's just no way he can reach your little hole without bending his knees — and still you have to be poised on your tippy toes to let him fuck you.

Body shuddering with your hands splayed against the bathroom stall's pretty pink wall, your skirt fisted in his big hands and your thong pushed to the side of your puffy lips, bully!Gojo thrusts into your poor overused pussy 'till she cries, 'till she gushes, 'till he groans and releases another cumload against your cervix, 'till he turns his creampies into whipped cream.

Sure, his cockhead is oversensitive from plunging into your wet walls, and his balls are sore from slapping into your poor puffy clit for creampie after creampie, and yeah, there's cum dripping down the front of his thighs— but he's fucking you to put you in your place. And with how addicted he is to the feeling of being inside you, getting his pretty pink cock hugged tight by your walls, he just can't stop now.

His hips practically move on their own. His cock keeps telling him not to pull out just yet — it's telling him let's let her have it.

In mock affection, he presses his sweaty cheek against your forehead, white wispy bangs sticking to your skin, eyes glued to your jiggling breasts, big hand coming down to rub your clit. "Insensitive, huh?" he asks in a dangerous coo, "I'll show ya how fucking insensitive I can be." and with that, he's frantically massaging circles on your super fucking sensitive clit.

"Ah! Fuck! T-t-toruuu, I'm sorry! I didn't even mean it, I was just a-angryyy!" you sob out, feeling his mean cockhead rubbing sweet spots deep inside you.

His clit rubbing is ruthless, and he's a messy boy you know he doesn't care that his fingers and palm are coated with your slick.

"Nah, you meant it." he grunts back, blue eyes piercing you with a glare, hips pounding into you from the back, muscles twitchy 'n tensing, "Now stay still 'n take it. I told'ya I was gonna fuck that attitude out of ya, didn't I?"

You let out a strangled moan at his words, nearly going limp against the shuddering bathroom stall's wall. Satoru presses your head against it, smushing your cheek, getting rougher by the second.

He's still tightly fisting your skirt in his hand, other hand sometimes tugging harshly on your pathetically tiny thong — the one he told you to wear today, or else he's gonna throw one of his spoiled rich boy tantrums. He can't resist groping at your soft ass and spreading your ruby red smacked cheeks wide.

Satoru momentarily stills inside you, choking you up with how deep he chooses to keep his throbbing cock, and then he repositions himself; sharp polished black shoes clicking as he spreads his long legs further apart.

"New angle, hope ya like it." he jokes, angling his cock so it curves right against the gummy roof of your pussy, right against that spot.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out when he starts pounding up into your hole, nearly lifting you off your feet with the force of each thrust, makin' your sweaty body jiggle erotically.

He watches you widen your eyes when his cock hits a sweet spot just right, the one that makes your eyes twitch in pleasure 'n your knees buckle.

You're gushing around him, totally soaking his length, pussy too full of his gooey creampies 'n now they're leaking out and running down your thighs.

His cock hits that damn sweet spot again, with more precision than before.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Right there! Fuck me right there, 'Toru!" you chokingly moan, feeling a shockwave of pleasure pulse from your pussy to every point in your body.

"Damn, chill." he chuckles.

Chill? Of course he'd say that while he's fucking you like he's trying to get you cockdrunk. He's pounding into your gummy walls 'n rubbing your clit with this hate-fueled determination.

All you did was talk back to him in class. Just a cutesy little snide remark. You thought it would turn him on. Well, it did turn him on — it also turned his gaze cold and wiped the smirk off his face. Two things that sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, I'm fucked.

The way he leaned back and hummed had your pussy twitching, already getting wet at the thought of what he was gonna do to put you back in your place.

Whiiich brings us back to the last bathroom stall of the men's bathroom, the stall in which your bully is fucking up your guts and turning you into his personal cocksleeve.

He's close, you can tell because that's when his steady, deep strokes slow and he takes two inches out so he can rub annoyingly back and forth across his favorite ridge inside your pussy. And his tell-tale signs? Choppy breathing, brows twisted together, tightened grip on your body, 'n he's got this psychotic smile forming on his face which he likes to press against your sweaty forehead to let ya know how much he's enjoying bullying you.

Just feeling all his cum getting fucked out of your quivering hole makes you want to cum again. It's almost scary. What if you fall apart? You might even scream this time. Nah, who cares honestly? You can't control how your walls squeeze his cock now even though he bitterly scolds you for being too tight, too tiny to take him all.

You can hardly hear the nasty vocabulary he's using on you, 'cause you're too fucked-out on his thick cock, not even caring if the squelching sounds and choking moans escape under the door and echo down your college's corridors. Even if anyone barged in, Satoru would probably just do what he did last week — when someone barged into the spare room while he was in heat 'n balls deep in your pussy — tell 'em to fuck off.

"Fuck me." Satoru groans, "That hot little pussy 's gonna make me cum... 'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... ahah... fuck."

He's just the type to giggle during the buildup to his orgasm. It sounds almost psychotic — yeah, you knew from day one that he's crazy and his cock is crazy.

His cock gets hotter, then it bursts with thick ropes of cum once again. The both of you savor in the feeling. It's in the aftershocks of his orgasm that Satoru wonders if he's actually falling in love with you.

Then he snaps-to.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess." Satoru grins almost sadistically, sweating like crazy under his uniform.

You're just shivering against the wall as he eases his cum-coated cock out your pussy, sliding past your folds. Cheek smushed against the wall, face looking like you just saw heaven for an hour, you're relishing the buzzy afterglow of getting fucked dumb by your bully.

His hard slap on your ass brings you back to reality. You hear the sound of him pulling his pants up his long legs, dragging up his zipper. The click of his button. Then he plants another hard slap on your stinging cheek.

You groan, teasingly wiggling your cum-filled pussy, feeling his big hands groping the plush of your cheek and spreading it to reveal your twitchy holes — and he just keeps grinning, watching his seed ooze out 'n drip down your pretty thighs — those thighs that are the reason he chased you in the first place.

You'd think he's looking at the Mona Lisa with how he marvels at the sight — but nah, it's just his white, gooey creampies smeared across your lips and inner thighs. "Aw, don't let it drip out or 'm gonna need to plug ya up..."

Trembling, you listen to him unzipping his backpack and rifling around. "What d'you mean?" you ask, looking back at him with a dazed afterglow on your face, but when you do he's already sliding something into your pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you squirm, feeling that hot pink toy push inside and stretch open your cum-soaked walls again. "I'm so tired, gimmie a break!"

"Relaaax, it's just to plug ya up..." he grins mischievously.

"Oh... o-okay... if you say so."

Oh, but what a liar he is.

It's ten minutes after you and him cleaned up and scurried off to your class and took your seats.

Shit — late again. You curse Satoru and his dummy big cock as you settle down.

... then you feel something start to buzz inside you.

"Oh!?" you let out a small gasp.

Vibrations against your sweet spots make your eyes flicker. Your filled pussy freaks out, spasming and twitching like crazy around the toy.

You give a glare of disbelief back at Satoru, who sat two rows behind and above you — duh, so he could always get a nice view of your breasts.

He sees you. He smirks. He raises a pink little controller shaped like a flat egg, and tauntingly shakes it in his hand before clicking a button.

One notch up.

"Nn!" you tighten around the toy.

He watches you freak out from afar, his sweaty face contorting into a diabolically naughty smirk.

Two notches up. Three notches. Off. Onetwothreefour — you gulp and smack the desk — earning a look from your seatmate, Choso.

The toy temporarily turns off.

"... sorry, this question is just so frustrating." you apologize, playing off your random desk smack.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm failing this class for sure."

"S-same, honestly." you reply shakily, soothingly rubbing up and down your clenched thighs.

You text Satoru with fervency.

You

'just a plug' my ass! wtf is this thing!

Toru

lol 🍑🔜 and chill... it's just a lil something i picked up for ya

You

ur the devil. i hate u.

Toru

ur hurting my feelings 🥺

Onetwothreefour — max!

"Fuck...!" you gasp again, feeling a dizzy rush as the toy buzzes at max deep inside your pussy.

Choso gives you a concerned side-glance.

"Sounds like you're really having a rough day." he jokes.

You look at him. He's sitting pretty close.

"You have no ideaaaaaahhhhhhh~" you moan back, accidentally cumming right there in front of your classmate.

Immediately clapping your hand over your mouth, you blink at him. Oh no... you just orgasmically moaned against poor, confused Choso's face.

His eyes widen. He blinks. " H u h ? "

Satoru sees this and slides down in his seat, holding in his laughter behind a toothy smile, pearly whites all on display. Now his best friend gives him a look.

"Satoru..." Suguru sighs, catching onto what was happening. "Give the girl a break."

"You wanna try?" he offers Suguru the remote control.

Suguru looks at it. He looks at you, then Satoru, then the toy... and takes it into his hand and chuckles with his best friend behind their textbooks, clicking it to a new pattern.

You just twitch your eyes and then shut them in pleasure, cursing the both of them in your mind while you feel your thighs tremble and feel the toy pulsing. Your pussy squeezes the pink silicone.

And you can hear those dastardly best friends giggling behind your back, watching you wiggle in pleasure, trying to contain your moans. Every time you glance back at them, Satoru makes mocking ahegao faces at you. Suguru just smirks and continues to play with the vibrator.

Oh, you were definitely gonna get 'em back for this.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 💗

[reignpage]

♱ In which boyfriend!choso can't keep still long enough to last a punishment

“Don’t move, Cho,” you remind him.

He whines. Bare and standing, you’re free to kneel before him and suck at his leaking, throbbing tip. Your boyfriend can do nothing but hope he doesn’t shudder too much whilst you tongue his swollen slit and milk his length with a tight fist. 

“Baby, please. I can’t. You’re being mean a-and cruel.”

Admittedly, you are being cruel – he can’t touch you, can’t make commands, and cannot, under any circumstances, let that glass cup balancing on his head drop. The pigtailed bastard deserves it after he tried sending a video of you getting your back blown out to your shameless ex, who wouldn’t stop texting you, only to end up sending it to your mother instead. 

Cupping his heavy balls in one palm, you massage the pair, feeling the panty-soaking heat in them all while they promise to fill your stomach with his salty cum. For someone complaining about how much he hates this punishment, he sure is using up a lot of energy to keep his head up and still. Abs flexing, you can’t help but rake your long nails down the sculpted muscles. He shivers and gasps. 

“I already -ngh!- said I’m s-sorry. Just take it off me and let me fuck you.”

Very tempting. Unfortunately for him, and your greedy pussy, he rarely ever gets his way with you. So, with a mouth full of his pulsating cock, you say, barely coherent, “Nope! You’re just gonna -mmm quit moving- have to man up and take your punishment like a good boy.”

A fat droplet of precum slides down your throat. Hmm, he sure does love being called a good boy. How sad. 

Your arm stretches up his torso all so you can tweak the piercing on his blushing brown nipples. He doesn’t say anything when you slap his ass too, though he doesn’t need to – the sudden tightening of his ball sack says enough. Thighs begin to shake. Fists clench so tight his knuckles turn white. His jaw hangs. Any second now, he’ll burst in your mouth. For his own good, he better not drop the glass. You’ll make him clean it up with your hot pink vibrator tied against his frenulum, which he has grown much too familiar with over the years. Maybe that’s what he’s hoping for. 

“My ex was never so pathetic,” you muse. “When my misbehaved boyfriend is struggling over such a simple task, it makes me miss hi–HMPH!”

Choso growled and grabbed your head with both hands, vein in those huge biceps flexing. Something animalistic flashed in those blown out eyes. That’s all the warning you got before he shoved his cock deeper down your throat, filling you up so manically. He doesn’t waste a single second before ramming inside your mouth and whimpering at the wet friction. The glass shatters in the background. You can’t even get a word out to complain because he’s pounding your throat like he’s trying to kill you. 

“You’re -oh fuck!- mine,” Choso growls. Grunting and staring up at the ceiling, too stimulated when he looks down at you, you watch his Adam’s apple bob. Your eyes roll back. He looks so pretty desperately chasing his release and using you as a glorified fleshlight. “I’ll kill anyone who -hah- t-tries to take you.”

Those are his last words before he blows a scalding load into your stomach. You haven’t even swallowed and he’s already lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder. When you bounce on the bed, your glare prompts an answer out of him.

“I didn’t want you to cut your pretty feet.” He presses a sloppy kiss against the sole of each of them. Then, he brings one to rub at his burning, hardening dick, moaning like a whore as he stares down at you with desire, love, and obsession radiating from every pore. “My girl’s gotta look her best for the video I’m sending to that loser, right?”

You sigh. “Whatever. Just make sure you don’t send it to my mother again.”

Choso pouts. 

“Stop bringing that up; it’s embarrassing.” Climbing over your body, he sucks at every inch of skin he can before the need to kiss you overwhelms him. “Ugh. She heard me call you mommy.”

[c0s-lettuce]

your orbit

steve harrington x reader

synopsis: amidst a night of board games, junk food and extraordinary company, the only thing steve can think about is you.

→ or the deterioration of steve harrington's mind over the course of an evening.

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: fem!reader, set around s4 but no upside down, eddie and robin aren't subtle, steve just really loves you, childhood best friends to strangers to friends, one bed but not really ;)

a/n: i love ex bestie steve! i've been wanting to write for him for a while, so hope i did him justice. joe keery favourite white boy frrr. pls forgive any inaccuracies and thanks for reading <3

part two coming soon!

5 PM

Steve decided to take advantage of having the house to himself. His parents are gone for the week, as they so often are. So, he sent out a few invitations to some of his closest friends. A small get-together, he told them, nothing fancy.

Robin accepted, of course. And Nancy and Jonathan, too. Steve only told Dustin about the party, but he already knew that word would spread to all the other kids.

But Steve has a mini panic attack when he finds out you're coming. He isn't too sure where he stands with you these days. Your friendship has all but rekindled, but Steve is still wary around you, terrified of messing up again. You accepted the invitation, though. That's a good thing. Right?

As Steve waits for people to arrive, he takes out his only activities, a deck of cards and a single board game he received as a gift but never opened. He's relying on his friends with siblings and/or a healthier relationship with their parents to bring more things to do.

He sets out the snacks he bought. Chips and candy are laid out over the island counter in the kitchen, and soda is stacked in the fridge. Steve even sets aside a little stash of what he hopes are still your favourites. He also managed to get his hands on some beer, and there's money set aside for pizza later.

Soon enough, people start showing up. Robin arrives first, followed by Dustin, Lucas and Max. Then Nancy and Jonathan arrive with Mike, Will and El. Then you. And finally, Eddie.

The gaggle of children quickly bee-line for the snacks and games. Steve watches with disdain, knowing there'll be a mess to clean up after. But at least his other guests appear happy to see their gracious host, with you among them.

Steve pretty much shortcircuits when you arrive. You're dressed nicely, and your hair is all pretty. You lean in to give him a quick hug, greeting him fondly. He may as well have cancelled the night then because he's sure his heart stopped for a second.

He only snaps out of it when Eddie arrives, slapping him so hard on the back that it could've been an alternative to the Heimlich maneuver. Suddenly, the population of the house has gone from one to a dozen, and noise and energy immediately replace the prior peace.

Steve quickly realises that he's in for a long night.

6 PM

"So, what's the story between the two of you?" Eddie asks.

Steve blinks, caught off guard by the question. He turns to the other boy, who awaits his answer with a half-curious, half-smug expression.

"Nothing, man," Steve mutters, taking a sip of his beer.

"Nothing, huh?" Eddie smirks. "Is that why you're staring at her like she's the love of your life?"

Steve glares at Eddie, wondering who even invited him. Eddie is the newest addition to the larger friend group. Dustin is very fond of him. And from what Steve has heard, so are you. He's in a few of the same classes as you, and there's a rumour among the kids that you used to be in Hellfire for a semester in your sophomore year.

The thought of you being close to Eddie bothers Steve. He chases the feeling away with another sip.

"Come on, big boy," Eddie nudges him. "We're friends now. You can tell me."

He looks back at you. You're sat around the coffee table with the kids in the middle of a round of Uno. And you look so lovely. You always do. Even the way you're holding the cards is pretty. You're the perfect culmination of everything sweet. No wonder the kids are hogging you.

He looks back at Eddie, who's still regarding Steve with inquisitive and mischievous eyes. Steve considers acquiescing, especially since Eddie is willing to listen. At the very least, it'll give Robin a break from dealing with his usual sulking.

"We were really close in middle school," Steve begins. "Best friends, even. But then I started high school, and... well, you can probably guess the rest."

"Ah," Eddie nods, understanding immediately. "I see."

Steve continues. "We only spent a year apart. And she was so excited to join me. But then-"

"Then King Steve emerged, and you left her in the dirt," Eddie remarks.

Steve cringes at the wording but doesn't refute it. It's an accurate recount of what happened. He knew he was horrible, not just to you but to everyone. He regrets nothing more than abandoning you and letting his so-called friends pick on you. Meanwhile, he stood by, telling himself worthless excuses to justify how things turned out.

You and Steve remained strangers after he left his throne behind. And it probably would've stayed that way if he didn't become coworkers with one Robin Buckley, who had become your new best friend in his absence.

He remembers the days you would visit Scoops Ahoy, mostly to distract Robin and make his job harder. You would often give him quick glances and polite smiles, never going out of your way to talk to him. However, he would occasionally catch your eyes lingering on him.

Robin would tell him you were checking him out, insisting she knew how her best friend thinks. But he was convinced you were judging him for his dumb hat and sailor outfit. Nothing ever made him wish he could crawl into a hole and die more than that.

But suddenly, he was back in your orbit again. And he's never left since.

Turning his attention back to you, Steve watches you play your last card, earning a groan from a few of the other players. You stand up victorious, stepping away from the table to grab another drink from the kitchen.

Steve recognises this as the perfect time to approach you and say something other than the "hey" he offered when you arrived. But just as he's about to muster up the courage, the doorbell rings, indicating the arrival of pizza.

With a sigh and another slap on the back from Eddie, he turns away to retrieve the food.

7 PM

You fit in well with the others. Not that it's a bad thing. It's great, actually. It just reminds Steve how much time has passed and how things have changed. It makes him think of what could've been.

You being best friends with Robin makes more sense than hot chocolate on a rainy day. You're like two peas in a pod. You match each other's energy, and both have a sort of charming madness about you.

The kids obviously like you. Not that their criteria are that high. But it helps that you used to work at the arcade and would give them your spare quarters. Plus, the rumour that you used to be in Hellfire makes you seem like a legend in their eyes.

Even Max likes you. He could tell because you were the one she approached earlier, asking if she could have a beer. You laughed and told her no. She just pouted and accepted it. Steve knew if he told her no, he would've been left with an insult.

You aren't particularly close to Nancy or Jonathan. Still, Steve knew they respected you, which means a lot, especially from someone like Nancy. And, of course, Eddie is... Eddie.

Steve comes to the realisation that he's jealous of everyone at the party. They all have a place in your life, in your heart. He wonders if there's even room left for him. There was a time when he occupied all that space. And it's his own fault that changed. Still, he can't help but hope.

The pizza disperses and disappears quickly. As the others chase their dinner with more snacks and set up another game, Steve remains leaning against the wall. He's so deep in thought that he doesn't notice someone approaching him.

"Steve?"

He flinches at the voice. It's you.

"H-hey," he stutters.

"Hey," you reply. "You okay? You seem a bit... distraught."

Steve takes a second to respond but nods. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good, just thinking."

You tilt your head, sensing more to the story but not wanting to pry. "Alright. Just don't hurt yourself."

Steve chuckles nervously, both relieved and terrified that you're making jokes with him.

You point back towards the coffee table. "The others are about to start a game of Monopoly. Did you want to join?"

He looks towards the group, at Dustin micromanaging how Will sets up the board. At Max and El scheming their game plan, having already picked the token they want to use. And at Mike dragging over his reluctant-looking sister, an amused-looking boyfriend following behind.

Steve knew he ought to join in, having just been standing around all night. But the idea of playing a game about capitalism with a group of kids who took board games way too seriously doesn't appeal to him right now.

So, he shakes his head. "No thanks. You go ahead."

You glance at the others before turning back. "Nah, I'm good. I need a break from getting lectured by Dustin."

Steve snorts. "Yeah, that kid's got a mouth on him. You wouldn't believe how often he tries to give me dating advice."

"He gives you dating advice?" you ask, amused.

"Yeah," Steve answers. "Now that he has a girlfriend, he thinks he's unstoppable. A girlfriend he wouldn't even have if it weren't for me, by the way. I taught him everything he knows."

You laugh and shrug. "Well, maybe you could learn something, Steve. You know, the whole 'student becomes the master' thing?"

Steve lets out a huff. "No, no way. Besides, I don't need a girlfriend when I've got-"

You, he almost says. But he clears his throat and corrects himself.

"Uh, all of you," he states, vaguely gesturing to the party. "My friends, you know?"

His words make you grin. "Aww, Steve-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbles. "Just don't tell anyone I said that."

He averts his gaze. His cheeks flush a bit, but he's holding back a smile. He's glad to have gotten that reaction from you.

You're about to tease him some more when Robin's voice interrupts, calling for your help from upstairs.

You sigh, looking back at Steve. "Duty calls. I'll leave you to your thinking."

You give him a cheeky smile before you leave, a smile that makes it seem like you somehow read his mind and found his thoughts amusing. He can only watch as you walk away again.

8 PM

Steve isn't sure how he got here, sitting next to you on the carpet. The Monopoly game was cut short after Lucas and Mike got into a heated argument. And now they've switched to The Game of Life, which hopefully won't cause any fights.

Not only did Steve get roped into playing, he got teamed up with you. You had been calling most of the shots during the game, but when you reached the marriage space, stuck a little pink peg next to the blue one and murmured, "That's us," to Steve... well, it all got a bit confronting for the poor boy.

He felt like a fool, sitting there overthinking two words that likely were said as a joke. Steve had realised a while ago that he loved you. A part of him thinks he always has, ever since the early days of middle school.

But being friends with you again after everything is more than he felt he deserved, so he doesn't expect you to return those feelings just yet. But then you go ahead and say something like that. So casually, too. "That's us." Married. Yeah, right. Either you're cruel, or there's hope for him yet.

Steve manages to calm his emotions a few moments later. But as the game progresses, he continues comparing his life to the little blue peg that was supposedly him.

Steve, in the game, has a college degree, a decently-paying job, a pretty pink peg for a wife (which you've claimed to be you), three peg children and his own house, all while avoiding any mid-life crises.

Steve, in real life, at the ripe age of nineteen, has no idea what he's doing. He's been through at least two quarter-life crises. College is definitely not happening. And he's working a retail job Robin got for him through bribery. At least it came with a better uniform. One which would probably help with picking up girls if the girl he actually wanted wasn't the one currently sitting next to him.

At least now, when you visit Robin at work, you also come to see him. You make eye contact, give him bright smiles, and actually talk to him. And he has to do everything in his god-given power to not lose his mind each time.

But it's not all for nothing. After all, you're a loyal customer of Family Video, and Steve always looks after his patrons (as long as it's you). If he knows you'll be visiting, he'll put on one of your favourite movies on the TV in the store.

He'll also research movies he thinks you'll like, lie and say they're unavailable if someone tries to rent them before he can get them to you. It earns judgment from Robin, but he doesn't care. As long as it makes you happy.

Soon, Steve vows, he'll take you out to see a movie on the big screen. It'll be just the two of you at the back of the theatre with a big bucket of popcorn. He'll pull some cheesy move on you. You'll laugh at him or roll your eyes. Or maybe you'll fall for it. Either way, it'll be perfect.

Steve only checks back into the present when The Game of Life ends. He glances around the table, relieved no one has noticed him daydreaming. Everyone's cars are in the retired space, and Steve catches a glimpse of you and him and your three kids again. But he looks back at the real you as you turn to face him.

Steve is no help as you sort out how much money you ended up with, too busy admiring you instead. You're focused, doing maths in your head and using his lap as a surface to lay out the notes and cards. And somehow, he falls even more in love with you in this moment.

9 PM

The party has diminished, with Nancy and Jonathan having gone home with the kids. Now, just Steve, Robin, Eddie, and you remain. Outside, dark clouds have gathered, showering Hawkins in light rain.

The four of you are finishing the night off with one last card game. You had won, of course. And now Eddie has recruited your help. He has his arm around you, his head pressed against yours, his deck hiding your faces as you conspired his next move.

If Steve didn't know any better, he'd assume you two were a thing. But he does know better. Eddie must be doing this on purpose, trying to make him jealous or something. And it was working. Steve supposed that's what he deserves for trusting Eddie with his deepest, darkest regret.

The card game turns into a one-sided glaring contest, with Robin having to nudge Steve whenever it's his turn. With your help, Eddie finishes second. Robin comes third, and Steve loses the game. But at this point, he isn't even upset about it because it means his suffering is over.

Eddie finally lets go of you, letting out a contented sigh as he stretches his arms above his head.

"Alright," he announces. "I'm calling it a night. You ready to go, Buckley?"

Robin nods. "Yeah, let's head."

The two stand and begin gathering their things.

Eddie looks at you as he puts on his jacket. "You sure you don't want a ride home?"

You shake your head. "I'm good, Eds. You take Robin. My dad should be here soon."

Eddie accepts your answer with a nod, and you catch the slightest hint of a smirk. But you ignore it as you and Steve walk him and Robin to the door. You give them each a hug before they leave.

Robin has an expression you don't fully comprehend as she hugs you back, somewhere between smug and amused. "See you later, nerd. Make good choices, okay?"

You furrow your brow, but she heads out the door before you can ask what she means by that.

As Eddie steps out after her, he looks back at Steve. "Hey, Harrington. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He sends Steve a wink, who frowns at the implication of his words. You notice Robin is still giving you that look. You send her a raised eyebrow in return. But no more words are exchanged as the two go their merry way.

"God, they're weird," Steve mutters as he closes the door.

His comment elicits a chuckle from you, which elicits a flutter in his chest. He turns to face you, unable to help the smile that graces his features just by looking at you. But a mildly awkward silence follows as Steve racks his brain on how to proceed now that it's just the two of you.

"You, uh- you want another drink?" he asks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, sure."

His own smile widens. "Alright. You sit back down, and I'll get us some."

Steve heads into the now almost empty kitchen, grabbing two bottles before finding you again in the living room. You're sitting on the couch, packing up the deck of cards. Steve is momentarily distracted by the way your hands move.

But as he approaches and hands you your drink, he decides to be bold and sits close to you, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He doesn't even have a millisecond to regret it because he feels you lean into his touch.

Steve revels in the satisfaction.

10 PM

Eddie and Robin seem to have left just in time because the storm picks up only a few minutes after they leave. You and Steve sit and chat for a while as you finish your drinks, and you help Steve clear up the empty cans and scattered wrappers despite him ordering you not to.

But even after everything is cleaned, your father still hasn't arrived. Steve watches as you wait, looking at the time again.

"You're welcome to stay over if that's easier for you," he tells you.

You look over at him, considering his offer. "You don't mind?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, of course not."

He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all. In fact, he would prefer it. He's used to being alone for days at a time. But it's a bit harrowing going from twelve people to just one, especially in a big empty house during a storm. Yes, he definitely wants you to stay.

"Okay," you say, "I'll just call my parents and ask what's happening."

Steve nods as you walk over to the phone and call home. It rings for a bit before someone picks up.

"Hello?" your mother's voice greets you.

"Hey, mom," you reply. "It's me."

The pitch of her voice changes immediately upon hearing your voice. "Hi, darling! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to check if dad was still coming to pick me up?" you ask.

There's a pause before your mom groans. "Oh, I'm so sorry. We completely forgot. We had a lot of wine for dinner. I can go get him now."

"It's no big deal, mom," you interject. "The storm's getting pretty bad anyway. Steve said I could stay over."

Again, your mother's cadence changes, but you don't need to question why. You know she's always been a fan of Steve.

"Okay, darling," she responds. "That sounds like a good idea. You two take care, alright?"

You resist rolling your eyes, even though she's not around to see it. "Yeah, you too, mom. Bye."

Your mom bids you farewell, and you hang up the phone.

Steve, who waits patiently nearby, takes this as his cue to speak up. "You staying?"

You look over at him and nod. "I'm staying."

"Okay, great," Steve smiles. "You can take my room. I'll go in the guest bedroom."

"What? Steve, no," you say. "You don't have to do that. I'll take the guest bedroom."

"No, really," he insists. "It's cold and uncomfortable in there. Trust me."

"I'm the guest, Steve. I'll go in the guest bedroom," you respond.

"No, not happening," he states.

You frown. "I'm not letting you give up your room."

Steve crosses his arms. "Well, I'm not letting you stay in the guest bedroom."

There's a pause in the conversation as the two of you stare each other down, hoping the other will fold.

When neither of you do, you make another suggestion. "Alright. How about we just share your bed?"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Uh, you- really? Are you sure?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I mean... we used to do it all the time as kids, right?"

It's true. You did. There were countless nights when you would pass out in bed together, having stayed up watching movies or spent the entire day in the pool.

"Okay," Steve agrees. "Let's do that then."

"Great," you say.

"Great," he replies.

Yeah... great.

11 PM

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out.

That's all Steve could repeat in his head. He's lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling while you're beside him. He forgot to factor in how the both of you have grown considerably since middle school, meaning there's less space between you now.

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't fr-

"You know," you break the silence. "I forgot how weird your plaid wallpaper was."

Steve furrows his brow, his distress momentarily forgotten as he turns to look at you.

"It's not weird," he says defensively.

"It's pretty weird," you reply before looking at him. "But it's cool."

As your gaze meets his, he feels his nervousness rushing back. You look so soft and cozy in his bed, wearing his shirt. And you're smiling at him as if you knew the funniest joke in the world and you were about to tell it to him.

He lets a beat of silence pass before clearing his throat. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah, I did," you answer genuinely. "You?"

"Yeah," Steve replies. "It's nice having people around."

You nod in response, remembering how his parents would send him over to live with your family whenever they would go away. As much as he loved being able to spend time with you, you knew he hated being left behind.

"How long are your parents gone for this time?" you ask.

"Just until the end of the week," he tells you.

You nod again. "You've been faring up by yourself?"

He shrugs. "I don't mind it. They've been on my back a lot recently. Honestly, I needed the break."

"Right," you reply. "So not much has changed."

Steve lets out a humourless laugh. "Nope. It's been hell since I graduated last year."

You frown at his words. "I guess that's not surprising."

"Yeah, I don't know," he pauses for a second before continuing, his voice quieter. "Sometimes, I think they have a point."

You pause as well, trying to gauge what he's thinking. "You shouldn't let them get to you, Steve."

He sighs. "I know. But what if they're right, you know, about me?"

"They're not. I promise you," you reassure him.

Steve turns to look at you again, almost like he's searching for your sincerity.

You give him a smile. "You'll be alright, Steve. I know it."

Steve can't help but smile back. You sound so earnest that he's inclined to believe you. Besides, you're here with him right now. So, he must be doing something right.

You fall into a comfortable silence. There's barely any noise this late at night to disrupt it. After a few moments, you let out a yawn.

"Ugh, man. I'm so sleepy," you mumble.

"You should get some rest," he responds. "I still remember how grumpy you get in the morning."

You give him a deadpan look. "Gee, thanks."

Steve chuckles. "Just telling the truth."

Your feigned expression breaks as you laugh along, too. Steve cherishes every second of the moment before it fades away.

You yawn again. "Alright then. Goodnight, Steve."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he replies.

The room falls silent again. Steve lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes. Despite the uncertainty, a smile still lingers on his lips. A million things could change tomorrow. But for now, at least, you're still by his side.

[inuiiwonderland]

BABY

The boys invite you over to their house but now suffer with their moms/siblings/parents showing you their baby pictures<3 gn reader!!!

-

Ace trappola

He leaves for ONE second. One second and he can already hear your small giggles coming from his room as he hears the voice of his older brother with you.

Oh gross don’t tell me he’s flirting with you!

Ace thinks as he quickly shoots his way up the stairs. The boy brows were furrowed as he slams the door wide open. He was ready to cuss up a storm like a sailor and tell his brother to fuck off and leave but froze once he sees what you’re holding.

Oh

OH!

You were the first one to break the silence as you throw your head back as a laugh escapes your lips.

“Oh sevens you were one ugly baby!” You say. Trying very hard to keep in your giggles as you look over at the picture. His brother cackling right next to you.

“Oh totally! He looked like a dried up raisin” His brother says in between laughter.

“HEY! No I didn’t!” Ace can feel the tip of his ears heat up as he marches right towards you two.

“These pictures say otherwise” You flipped to the second page and quickly slapped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh sevens…” Ace quickly tries snatching the book from your hands but his brother stops him before he could.

“Oh my! Is that-“

“Yep! He couldn’t go ANYWHERE without it!” In the picture, you can see THE ace trappola standing with a wide toothy grin on his face as he holds onto an equally adorable bunny stuffed animal.

“Oh this one is my favorite!” He points to a photo of baby Ace dressed up as a strawberry as he cried his eyes out. You can see his brother standing next to him with a big smile on his face as Ace looks like he’s about to pop a vain. The next picture shows him all calm and smiley as he’s given his favorite bunny stuffed animal.

“Aweeee ace! You were so adorable!!” You squeal. With his brother now laughing and wheezing, Ace was able to immediately snatch the photo album from your hands as his whole face was a bright cherry red.

“Okay that’s enough and get the hell outta my room jack ass!”

-

Deuce spade

He should’ve known something was up when it suddenly got quiet. He carefully walks back to his room with a tray in hand filled with cookies. The moment he opens the door he lets out a loud shriek as he watches his mom excitedly showing you his baby pictures.

“M-mom? What are you-“

“This was him at 2 months! Isn’t he cute?”

“For sure! Aw look at those chubby cheeks!”

“Oh and this was on his 6th birthday party! Look at those dimples!” She says as you squealed in awe. The two of you continued to flip through the baby album as deuce turned redder and redder by the seconds.

“Aww you were such a cutie deucy!” His face instantly goes red as he sets down the tray on the table.

“Oh oh! And look at this!”

“Is that a bunny onesie?” You squeal out. He immediately gulps knowing the embarrassing stories behind that onesie.

“Yes! I bought it for him for the white rabbit fest! He loved it so much he would always wear it to bed or when we go buy groceries. He cried really hard when he outgrew it though”

“I-I did not! I was just sad that’s all! I did not cry!”

“Oh! Look at this one! This was taken on his first day of school! I still remember it like it was yesterday. After taking that photo, he wouldn’t let go of me! He didn’t want to go in at all and we had to have three teachers come and drag him inside as he cried his little heart out! I remember feeling so terrible but I had to go to work”

“Okay that’s enough! No more baby photos and embarrassing stories!” He says as he snatches the book away.

“No wait please I want to see more!”

-

Sebek Zigvolt

It’s been 5 minutes already and you still weren’t back from the bathroom! You told him you would be quick and now he’s slowly growing impatient from your absence. He gets up and storms out of the room as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Human! You have been in there for almost 10 minutes! Is something wrong?!” Silence. He frowns before knocking again.

“You know we have to study for that Alchemy test this upcoming week!”

Again nothing. Just as he was about to knock again a loud laugh and giggles could be heard from downstairs. And those giggles sounded eerily familiar.

Wait

That’s your giggles!

In a speed of light does he make it downstairs and to the kitchen where the laughs and giggles were coming from.

There stood you and his father going through sebek baby photo album.

“W-what are you doing?!” He screeched.

“Oh sebek! I was just showing your friend your baby photos!” His father said cheerfully. The half fae turned bright red as he was ready to yell but was stopped the moment he heard his name being called from behind him.

“Sebek Zigvolt. What did I tell you about yelling in the house?!” There stood his mother. Brows furrowed as her arms were crossed over her chest.

“Anywho! Look! This was him when he first came into this world!”

“Awww! I guess he’s always been loud from the looks of it” You say. Chuckling at the photo in front of you.

“Oh don’t get me started. He was crying up a storm and I swear I could feel my eardrums burst” His mother sighs as she walks over to the sink. His father smiles as he looks down at the album.

“Yeah he was a crier. Oh look at this one!” He shows you a picture of 4 month old sebek staring wide eyed at the camera. Chubby cheeks and big ole eyes.

“Awww! You were adorable!”

“Oh this is my favorite one!” His mother points at one where you can see sebek wearing a knight costume. From the looks of it it must’ve been Halloween. He wore a proud smile as he held up his sword. You coo at the photo as they both continued to show you more.

“Oh look at this one! He saw a horror movie for the first time and there was a scene where the father sacrifices himself for his kids and he burst out into tears! He wouldn’t let go of his dad for weeks!”

“Enough! Let’s go back to studying!” He says as he grabs your hand and pulls you away from his parents and the photo album.

“Wait no one more !”

-

This was an old draft from like a year ago🌝 I just decided to finish it now😖

I FULLY BELIEVE DEUCE HAD DIMPLES JUST LIEK ME! IDC WHAT YALL SAY!!!!

[heavenlybodies333]

Thots n’ Prayers - R.C

cowboy!Rafe x preachersdaughter!reader

the kind of boy your daddy preaches about, the kind your mother prays you’ll stay away from

the hymn is still echoing in your ears when you slip out the side door of the church, heels in hand, dress clinging to the sweat on your thighs. it’s ninety-five degrees, and you’re dressed for salvation. or so everyone thinks.

you light a cigarette with shaking fingers behind the barn, the same place your daddy kisses hands and babies after Sunday service. the lace of your dress is damp against your skin, sticking to your chest, and your panties—white, of course, like the whore of Babylon you are—are soaked, but not from the heat.

you don’t even flinch when you hear the boots behind you. you already know who it is.

“didn’t think good girls smoked menthols,” rafe drawls, stepping out from the shadows like the fucking devil himself.

you exhale slowly. “didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to sneak out here during a sermon.”

he tugs at your ribbon—pink, perfect, virginal—and lets it fall to the dirt. “sermon ain’t worth much if the preacher’s daughter ain’t listenin’.”

he’s close now—cowboy hat tipped back, sweat shining on his throat, white button-up halfway undone like he’s too good for the Lord’s house and knows it.

“you wearin’ those panties I like?” he asks voice low and taunting. his eyes drag over you, slow and lazy, pausing at the way your dress clings to your chest, nipples pressing hard through the thin lace.

you open your mouth to throw another insult, —but rafe catches your chin in two fingers, tilting your face up to him, and the words die on your tongue. “you got a smart mouth on you, don’t ya?” he growled, the brim of his cowboy hat shadowing his eyes as he pressed you against the barn wall.

"ain’t nothing smart about letting you drag me out here," you snapped back, voice breathless, back arching as his hand slid up your thigh.

“nah,” he smirked, fingers grazing your panties. “what’s dumb is wearin’ this little fuckin’ dress and thinkin’ I wouldn’t do somethin’ about it. like I’d let you walk around here with those slutty little tits pokin’ through your dress like that.”

“God,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering.

he kisses your jaw. “ain’t listenin’ right now.”his fingers brush the hem of your dress, slide under as he groans low when he feels the slick wetness sliding his fingers through your slit slow.

"you’re so fuckin' wet," rafe praises, sliding the pads of his fingers up to circle your clit in lazy, devastating strokes.

you’re gasping, clutching at his shirt, “don’t you dare make me cum before you fuck me,” you mumble, “my dress is already ruined.”

rafe laughs against your neck before his free hand comes up, fists tight in the ribbon of your hair, dragging your head back so you’re looking up at him.

"hold your skirt up," rafe orders. his belt clinks as he fumbles it open, as frantic as you are now, your hands already working between you, tugging at the denim stretched tight over his thighs. you gasp when you finally get him free—thick, heavy, flushed dark with need—lining himself up against your dripping entrance, his tip teasingly nudging. “hurry up,” you snap, hips pushing back greedily. "need you to shut the fuck up and—" you don’t even get the words out before he’s sinking into you with a rough, punishing thrust. you choke on your own moan, forehead thudding against the barn wall. rafe groans low, dragging his hips back and slamming in again.

you can’t help the desperate noises that escape your lips as he fills you, thrusting harder and faster against you, his grip tightening around your waist. he fucks you hard against the barn wall, cowboy hat tipping down over his forehead, sweat dripping down his chest. every brutal slap of his hips drives the breath from your lungs,

"that’s it," rafe grunts, hand tight on your hips, fucking you through it. "milk my cock, baby. come on." he follows you a few seconds later, his warmth spilling into you and when he pulls out, cum dripping down your thighs, he leans in close to whisper:

“Tell Daddy you were at Bible study.”

a/n: a little sunday sin

MASTERLIST

[lmaowhatt]

"can we please go?" - jj m.

summary: jj, ever the hormonal young adult, cant wait long enough for the two of you to get home from a party at the boneyard.

set: a short time after the pogues return from south america, probably between the 18 month time jump of s3 and s4. however, for my sanity, and some of yours, s4 doesnt exist.

pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader

warnings: jj begging(?), horny/clingy jj, foreshadowing to sex.

if theres any others feel free to comment them!

main masterlist

the party at the boneyard, which now seemed like an annual occurrence had been in full swing for a couple of hours. the sun had fallen well below the horizon, the moonlight providing just enough light for the inexperienced —now drunk— tourons and some tipsy locals to move around without bumping into one another.

the seven pogues had split up somewhat early into the party. jj was currently hanging around some of his surfer friends, laughing and joking about . pope and cleo relished in their time where the other pogues were distracted to walk along the shore together.

kiara was sat on a log, talking to a random touron girl who you and sarah had both urged her to go talk to, teasing her about always sulking at home, being the last single one of the group. after some reluctance and continuous badgering from you, she agreed.

john b had distanced himself slightly, still rightfully sulking over his fathers passing during their return from south america. sarah had regularly gone to check on him, making sure he was okay before going back to where you stood, continuing the previously halted conversation.

jj glanced around the party, moving to fix the clasp of the flimsy shark tooth necklace that has somehow survived through everything the young adult had been through during the past two-ish years as his eyes landed on you. the boy bit the inside of his cheek as he shamelessly let his eyes wander down your body.

a pink spaghetti strapped top, the hem of which stopped right above your diaphragm, overlayed with a white knitted halter top. a blue ankle length skirt hung low on your waist with a small silver belt serving as a contrast to your gold dangly earrings, a mix of dainty silver and gold necklaces of different lengths hanging around your neck.

jj bit the inside of his cheek, watching your boobs bounce slighty as you laugh along to a joke sarah said, taking a sip of the beer in your grasp. he cleared his throat as he looked down at his feet, dragging a hand through this messy blonde locks, before placing his signature red cap backwards on his head.

"yo jj," one of his friends, jace, slapped the back of his shoulder to grab his attention. "you good?" the boy asked, furrowing his eyebrows as jj looked up from the ground. jj cleared his throat once more, trying to will away the waver he knew would be there as soon as he spoke.

"yeah, uhm. im good man." the blonde nodded, dapping jace up and waving a lazy hand to the others near him, "im gonna go, hit me up this weekend." jj spoke, fixing his shorts and rolling his shoulders back, weaving through the crowd as he made his way towards you.

you stumbled forward slightly as jj wrapped his arms around your shoulders, cradling his head down and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "hi mama," he mumbled below your ear, raising his eyebrows at sarah as a form of greeting.

you placed a hand on his forearm, holding it as you rolled your eyes playfully at sarah. "hi baby. you okay?" you asked, smiling at sarah as she excused herself to 'find john b.' you sighed, leaning back ever so slightly as jj began peppering soft kisses onto your neck and along your collarbone.

"can we go home?" he muttered in between kisses. you laughed softly, turning to face him as his lips detached from your soft skin. jjs eyes naturally wandered to your chest, which was more accentuated as it pressed against his.

you snapped your fingers near his face, "eyes up here, maybank." you smiled as his eyes eventually flickered up to yours, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist. he let out a soft whine, "please baby? this.." he huffed out a heavy breath, forcing his eyes to stay locked on yours. "this outfit.. definitely one of your best. can we please go?" he asked with pleading eyes.

you tilted your head with a smirk playing at your lips, "but the party only started a while ago, you dont have friends to catch up with?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and watching as he bit the inside of his cheek softly in thought.

he eventually shook his head. the boy didnt have a valid reason whatsoever, he just wanted to spend some 'quality time' with you, away from the others of course. "they can wait. this cant baby." he said, motioning towards them, then towards you and him with his finger.

you sighed as you looked around at the party. sure, you were having fun after going through weeks, if not months of hell with the entire el dorado situation, and the entire 'being hunted for weeks' situation.

you looked back at jj, whos eyes hadn't moved from your features. with a soft sigh, you silently agreed, taking a hold of his hand and leading him to the twinkie which was parked on the side of the street. jj moved to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you walked the both of you to the twinkie. "i love you much, yknow that?" he whispered into your ear.

just as you went to talk, he interrupted once more. "not for this. trust me, its a perk alright, but i love you for you." he kissed your neck softly. "i love you for how you treat me," he sucked lightly. "i love you for how you treat our friends like family." he swiped his tongue over the small bruise.

"i just love you."

a/n: this is my first ever fic on tumblr so pls be nice. or dont 😭

[heartfullofleeches]

Boys in cheer hit harder!

Masochist Bully Yan + Male Cheerleader Darling

[Physical Violence, Masochism, suggestive themes so 18+, as implied by the title - reader wears a skirt/presents feminine]

-

“Wanna repeat that again? Huh? Bitch-” 

Locking your arms around his neck, your knee soars into the bridge of your assailant's nose - thick, runny blood gushing like a broken faucet as he staggers backwards, nauseated from the pain. 

Hands shove and prod at his back, the defeating cheers of the ever growing crowd clawing at his ear drums as he's flung squarely in the direction of your follow up attack. Stars staining his vision, sound is all there is to guide him as your fist crashes into his side - the studded ring gifted to you by one of the girls on your team sure to leave a curious bruise. He wheezes, splatters of crimson dying the whites of your favorite blouse red. A deep, hateful color- One that paints your vision as you screech in rage. 

“Making fun of the way I dress isn't enough for you.. Do you know how hard it is to get stains out of the shirt?!” 

“Wait, I'm sorry, about everything- Please-” 

His head bounces off the concrete - your entire body weight launched at him at lighting speed as you scramble to climb on top of him. Meaty thwacks proceed one after another as you unleash your fury on, refusing to let up as screams of vindication muddy into murmurs of hesitant concern.

Everyone knew he deserved it. Even the ones who arrived late to the show. Hell- he was the one who swung first, but there is a fine line between self defense and manslaughter. 

A single soul in the crowd didn't give a damn if the beating was justified or not. All he cared for was the bastard's vile words towards you - and his audacity to take his rightful place at the mercy of your wrists. 

The two of you had been walking home together when it happened. You, enthusiastically retelling the exciting tales of your day. Him, working up the courage to hold your hand. Truth be told, Erin had been neglecting time with his boys in favor of you. Some understood, others didn't. 

Why would anyone choose a freak like you over them? 

He didn't want to cause a scene. Erin was dead set on cooling the situation publicly, dragging his so-called “friend” behind the school to teach him a lesson - but you acted first. Everything happened so quickly. If he hadn't been so overwhelmed by the gust in your - something unheard of in a gentle soul like you, he would have protected you better. 

From the current outlook of things, he should be the one in your protection. 

That should be me. 

Erin's mouth hangs agape as your shapely ass springs off the chest of his former ally - a tiny, defeated whimper creaking from his throat as the crack of a heavy handed slap reverberates through the air. So close he can almost taste it. Almost feel it. Your manicured nails piercing his skin. Those powerful legs straddling him as you pummel him into submission. Your glossy lips smeared with his blood and tears. 

“Ngh..” 

He hisses through his teeth - the buckling of his hips weaving traction to the growing tent in his pants as the sensitive flesh grazes the fabric of his boxers. Nowhere near as soft as the panties you so proudly flaunt by your lonesome in the locker rooms, but enough to leave him a breath away from crying out for his turn. 

“You got my stuff, Rinny?” 

If there was anything to make him come undone, the airy giggle in your voice hit the nail on the head. Erin rubs at his neck, your backpack shielding the painful stiffness in his jeans. He glances around - the crowd now disburse with two of his other former acquaintances dragging their unconscious friend away. 

“Ah… y-yeah… Why don't I.. just hold onto it until we get to your place?”

“Awwwe, you're so sweet, Rinny!” 

Gluing yourself to his hip, you snuggle into Erin's arms - fingers interlocking with his. Erin clicks his tongue, wiping at your bloodied cheek with feigned annoyance. 

“You're such a mess.” 

But you're his mess, and that's all that matters. 

[mattsstarlet]

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

innocent!reader sinfully gives herself to experienced!badboy!matt

warning: this prompt includes heavy themes of church/religion/god and a brief mention of purity ring. if you are uncomfortable please do not read.

contains: smut (p in v), unprotected sex (creampie), virginity loss, praise kink, corruption kink, innocent kink, manipulation, pet names, suggestive language.

note: inspired by this post.

“these are so pretty, angel, just like you.” matt praised, his fingers softly tracing the waistband of your delicate piece of fabric—white; symbolizing innocence and purity. he knew it was wrong; you were vulnerable and naive… but oh, how he loved taking advantage of that.

the man above the skies saw all of this as sin, but then why do matt’s words make you feel warm and fuzzy inside? none of these sentiments were brought up in ‘that little church school,’ as he likes to call it. your parents would be sick if they found out you were messing around with a boy. more so when that boy was currently in your bedroom, smirking down at you.

“i… it’s wrong,” you whimpered as his finger ran up your clothed heat, teasingly drawing circles on your sensitive bud. “i’ll get in big trouble,” you whispered, shivering once he pressed harder.

“but you’re so wet, doll. do y’wanna know what i think?” he whispered, tugging lightly on your earlobe as you nodded. “i think… my sweet girl wants to break a few rules tonight.” he hummed, pressing a featherweight kiss onto the soft skin of your neck.

matt smirked as you panted; you were so inexperienced and gullible—he couldn't believe how lucky he was. he began to pull down your lace material slowly, watching your pouty, flushed face for another expression. “just gonna make the aching feelin’ go away… i mean, isn’t that whatcha called for?”

all you could do was nod; he was right. you did call him over as soon as your parents left—leaving you home alone with the thought that you’d behave like the good girl they raised you to be. this was such a big slap in their face, but at the moment you weren’t thinking about your parents anymore; you weren’t thinking at all, as a matter of fact—but matt, being his cocky self, was going to have a great time reminding you of it all.

the sound of his belt clinking undone brought you back, noticing that your panties were disregarded besides your left hand, the shiny silver ring you wore on your ring finger gleamed underneath the light. matt freed his bulge, veiny and lengthy, with a pinkish tip that was covered in tiny beads of precum.

your smooth thighs rubbed together as he pumped himself, lathering his precum from the tip to his base. his blue eyes flickered towards you, humming as your innocent gaze widened—you were like a porcelain doll. pretty. delicate. one little touch and you're broken. matt wanted to break you.

he hovered back over you, spreading open your thighs to lay between them, holding himself with one hand up as the other caressed your cheek, leaning in to press a wet kiss onto your plumped lips. you tasted so good. angelic.

it was soft, yet passionate. he made sure to take every part of you in before pulling away to give you a lustful look. “so sweet… my sweet girl,” he muttered, moving down to kiss your neck.

you let out soft, desperate noises, squirming underneath him. “please,” you begged, bunching up the fluffy sheets into your fist.

“oh, now you wan’ it, huh?” he mocked softly, moving his hand away from your face onto the valley of your breasts, disappearing into your doll-like dress. he cupped your tit, slowly kneading the flesh as he teasingly ran his cock through your wet folds. “don’t worry, doll. gonna give it to ya. niice and slow.”

whine escaped your now smudged lips as he removed his hand from your chest. though a soft whimper followed right after as he held himself in his hands—his hungry gaze locking into your needy round eyes. “deep breaths, angel… gooood.” you squeezed your eyes shut as the pain indicated inside you; he was big and slightly thick—making you choke on your gasp.

matt groaned above you, shuddering as he felt your tight, spongy walls sheathing his cock. he rested his forehead against yours, panting while he let you adjust. “god, baby.”

as the burning sensation rippled through you, bubbles of tears pooled around the corner of your eyes. matt wiped them away, pressing lingering kisses onto your cheeks and pouty lips. “how’s my sweet angel doin’?”

“g-good,” you responded, whimpering as a sinful feeling of pleasure replaced the aching burn. “so good.”

“yeah? feels so good, huh?” he taunted, pulling down your dress to expose your perky breasts. he leaned down, taking one into his mouth as he jerked himself inside you, all while his dark eyes laid upon you.

his tongue swirled over your hardened nipple, making you arch your back further into him. he did the same to the next, pulling away with a ‘pop.’ “how will you explain this to the priest, doll?” he whispered lowly, his voice taunting and raspy.

your mouth hung low as your greedy pussy swallowed him whole, your fingernails scratching down his back. “f-faster, please.” You sobbed, bubbles of tears pooling around the brim of your eyes.

matt couldn’t help but grin as his hips snapped against yours, finding a suitable rhythm along the way, making you leave red crescent moon-like shapes into his skin. “my sweet girl likes it, doesn't she? such a perfect angel f’me,” he praised, his hot breath sending shivers down your back.

“mm-hm— nghhh— m-matt,” you whined, rolling your eyes back once his cock kissed your cervix. once again you arched into him, his hand moving underneath yours to pull your hair back—granting him access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your throat, making your cunt flutter around him.

“huge. you're so huge, matty… i—i” your puffy lips formed a silent ‘o’ shape as you felt a weird sensation building up in your lower belly. your big eyes found his, knitting your eyebrows as he offered you a lopsided smirk. “m—my tummy.”

he chuckled breathlessly, placing a wet kiss onto your collarbone. “feels weird, huh?” he panted, brushing the sweaty strands away from your forehead. “like—a tight knot?”

“aw, did they not teach you this in church school, my sweet angel?” he cooed, his thrusts becoming tiring and sloppy, your wet pussy not helping him in the slightest bit. he didn’t know what heaven felt like, but if he had to guess, he’d choose you as an example.

he leaned in, kissing you as he swirled his tongue with yours. the kiss became sloppy and messy, followed by a broken moan from your lips as he hit your g-spot, making your thighs tremble around his waist. spasming around his dick, matt followed right after, filling up your womb with hot white spurts of his cum.

matt rolled his hips against yours, riding out both of your guys’ highs until he slipped his cock out. you whined softly, feeling both empty and full as his cum began to drip out of your swollen folds.

he was tired, but he grinned anyway, rubbing your inner thighs. “look, baby… that’s us,” he muttered, picking up the mess you two created with his pointer finger and pumping it back in. “you love me, don’t you, sweet girl?” he whispered, his thumb gently grazing your bottom lip.

“i love you.” you mumbled, your eyes becoming too heavy to keep open. he had to bite back a smirk; he knew he had you wrapped around his finger, and he also knew it could end badly, but matt loved the power he held over you—almost as if he were a god.

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

[journalsfromjupiter]

𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖨𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽?!?!?🏖️ • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

📍 The Fire Pit, During the Recoupling

You didn’t expect to feel this calm.

But there you stood—chin up, shoulders back, wearing a white outfit that was absolutely intentional (if you were going to be stood up on national television, you might as well look like the ghost of his guilt).

You watched as Satoru stepped out, hand-in-hand with her. Mei Mei. One of the bombshells from Casa Amor. The one with the legs for days and the pout that got her whatever she wanted. The one who wasn't you.

The second their eyes met yours, his steps faltered.

And you—oh, you smiled. Not sweet. Not sad. Just... that smile. The one that said, You better pray the public still finds you charming, baby boy, because I fucking hate you.

Ariana’s voice rang out, saccharine and sharp, “Satoru... you’ve chosen to recouple. But—" she gestures to you," —has remained single.”

Cue the gasps. The dramatic music. Shoko whispering “Nahhh he’s done out here.” The producers were eating.

You didn’t look at Mei Mei. Poor girl. You weren’t mad at her.

But Satoru?

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to slap him, or kiss him until he forgot his own name (and then slap him).

Satoru doesn’t know where to put his hands. Doesn’t know how to look at you. His usual confidence, that playful arrogance, it’s gone.

And for once, the King of Love Island is left speechless.

The recoupling continues.

But he’s not paying attention to anything except you.

---

Three Weeks Earlier 📍Day 5 in the Villa

You’d known from the moment he walked in—too tall, too confident, that stupidly pretty smile with teeth like polished porcelain—that he was going to ruin your life.

And, unfortunately, he knew it too.

He picked you. Without hesitation. Without even looking at anyone else.

And you—idiot—chose him back.

The chemistry was undeniable. Electric. Like if someone stuck two live wires in a hot tub and said “good luck.” But you clashed like you were born to argue. Both stubborn. Both bold. Both unwilling to admit when you were wrong.

Day 6: you fought over the cooking schedule.

Day 8: you fought over a game of Truth or Dare.

Day 13: you fought because he saw you smiling too much at Kento during the pool challenge.

Day 19: he slept outside because you called him “emotionally constipated and allergic to accountability.”

But you always made up. In whispers. In late-night cuddles. In that space between the drama, where it was just you and him and the world felt quiet.

You made sense. Somehow.

Until the challenge.

Until Suguru.

---

Flashback: Day 25 – The Kiss

It was stupid.

A dare.

You were meant to kiss the islander with the best game. And yeah—okay—you should have chosen Satoru.

But your blood was still boiling from the fight that morning. He had called you "dramatic." You told him to go flirt with the mirror since it was clearly his only stable relationship.

So you kissed Suguru.

And it wasn’t even long. Or meaningful. But it was passionate. Just enough to make Satoru’s jaw clench. Just enough to make his voice rise when he pulled you aside, barely five minutes later.

"You think that's funny? You think you're clever, doing that in front of everyone?"

"It’s a game, Satoru."

“No. No it’s not. That was deliberate. You did that to get under my skin.”

“Well congratulations. Looks like it worked.”

It ended with him storming off and you tossing your mic pack on the sunbed. You didn’t speak that night.

And when the morning text came, the one announcing Casa Amor?

He didn’t even look at you. Just packed his bags and left.

---

Back to Present – Fire Pit, Post-Recoupling

You blink, slow and poised, as Ariana gives you a microphone smile.

“How are you feeling right now?”

You exhale through your nose. Smile, sharp as glass.

“Oh, I’m great, Ariana. Freshly single. Loving the vibes.”

Satoru flinches. Mei Mei shifts uncomfortably beside him.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a glance.

But you can feel his eyes on you. Like a heatwave behind your ribs.

He’s waiting for you to break. To cry. To yell. To throw a tantrum.

But you won’t.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from four weeks of make-ups and breakups, it’s this:

Never let Satoru Gojo think he’s won.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

anyone else watching season 7?!?! like what the helly is going on with this damn cast....😭😭

[sparklykaminarii]

PRETTY BOY MOANS₊˚⊹♡

(izuku x reader smut)

synopsis: your boyfriend is embarrassed about his pretty moans, guess you'll have to force them out of him.

warnings: AGED UP IZUKU !! handjob, blowjob, mommykink, subizuku, pervizuku,domreader, whimpering

a/n: I heard a whimper audio on tt, and it reminded me of izuku so...

"p-please-" izuku whines, his voice shaky and strained. his hand reaching for a fistful of your hair as you sucked the soul out of the green haired boy.

your tongue swirled around his tip, his glossy baby pink tip which just had crystal white streams of precum oozing from the slit. you noticed every time your tongue even went near his tip, he would cry out so lewdly, the sounds rivaling those of porn videos.

you and izuku hadn't been too intimate with each other, you guys had only started dating 6 months ago and it never really came up. you two just chose to ignore the obvious whimpers and breathy maons which came from the other side the phone.

the two of you had crazy sexual tension, but izuku was so shy about it. of course he already had thousands of daydreams about how he would pound into you so harshly all you could do is scream out his name, or just erotic thoughts of eating you out on his bed. your sweet arousal coating his lips as he ate you out like he was starved. he dreamt of overstimulating you so much that the only thing that would go through your mind that night was him.

naturally you were fed up with the whole waiting game. you needed to feel his cock thrusting in and out of you, not your fingers. you wondered how it would feel, how it would feel to have him in you, his pelvis meeting your clit every single thrust as he rammed into you from the back. oh the thoughts of his pretty little groans which always rang through your ears. you just had to initiate sex tonight.

and so you did, what went from a steamy makeout session to izuku, laid back against his chair as you say on your knees. in-between his legs, hands covering his cock and saliva dripping all over his length.

izuku couldn't believe the sight before him, he always dreamt about this very moment, seeing you right in-between his legs, your gentle soft hands just jerking himself so well it took everything in him not to cum right there. he watched as your mouth took him in, the wet and warm sensation making him shudder. your puffy rosy pink lips wrapping around the base, coating the shaft with your spit. he knew he was big too, so watching you struggle to take all of him in your mouth, even admiring the imprint of his dick through the side of your cheek just fueled his ego. watchin those glossy eyes stare up at him so innocently, you would be the death of him.

you quickened your pace, making sure that your rough tongue just grazed his tip in that one spot, eagerly waiting for him to reach his peak. izuku bit down hard on his bottom lip, suppressing his dirty moans. you glare back up at him, "aww don't tell me ya getting shy now baby..." you coo, hands sloppily rising up and down.

he shuts his eyes close, clearly embarrassed of his noises. but you, nah you weren't having it. you slap his thigh lightly, though hard enough so you could grab his attention. "if you wanna cum tonight, you better not hold back any of those pretty noises" you warn, eyes coldly staring his.

izuku wasn't sure what to feel right now, he was nervous. he has never seen you so stern and demanding, but every part of him loved it. "m'sorry!.." he groans, the feeling of your mouth overwhelming his mind once again.

you could feel him twitch under you, his thighs shaking and his cries growing my frantic and whiney. "mm- fuck- fuck- fuck-" he cries, the words mushing together as your hand strokes him swiftly. "m'so so close mommy, just l-like that-" he whines out. you giggle, eyes batting up at him so sweetly. izuku groans at the sight "f-fuck mommy can I please cum in?" he whines, his sweet kind eyes staring right into yours.

you smile warmly "anything for my sweet boy, cmon cum for mommy like a good boy" you call out, mouth tangling around his length again. and that's all izuku needed, moaning out strained cusses under his breath as he came in your mouth. his cum spurts quickly, it was thick and a semi opaque white. you make sure to stare at his hazy eyes as you swallow all of his semen, him watching you still so lustfully. all before whispering

"it's your turn now princess, let me make ya feel good"

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

❤︎︎ tws : nsfw, reverse cowgirl, fem!reader, semi-public sēx?, creampie, degradation, humiliation, school / modern au, mydei being a brat, dom!reader, spanking and heavy breeeding. mdni.

Nerd Phainon and nerd Mydei. Gods, they were so easy to tease.

Phainon with his big, innocent eyes behind those glasses, always blushing when you leaned too close. Always fumbling his pens, always stuttering when you called him “good boy” in front of the others. And Mydei? All sharp tongue and zero bite, a little brat that tried to snark back—only to crumble the second you grabbed his jaw and made him look at you.

You were a bully. That much was clear. But they kept coming back. Maybe it was the way you pressed them to the lockers, whispered filth in their ears during group projects. Or maybe, maybe it was right now—when both of them had ditched study group to sneak into the abandoned library wing with you.

Phainon sat obediently on a dusty chair, legs spread, cock flushed and leaking, his knuckles white as he held back from bucking. He wanted to be good. You liked that about him. Mydei, on the other hand, had that desperate, whiny glare—already spent once and glaring at you like it was your fault his thighs were still shaking.

“You’re not even gonna kiss me?” Mydei muttered breathlessly, panting as he watched you sink down onto Phainon’s lap in a filthy reverse cowgirl. Your tight skirt pushed up, panties hanging off one ankle, your hands gripping Phainon’s knees as you bounced. “S’not fair…”

“You can sit there and watch like a good brat,” you panted, glancing back over your shoulder. “You didn’t earn it.”

Phainon whimpered, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Y-You're so tight, oh god—“

“Of course I am, sweetheart.” You leaned back slightly, making sure he got the perfect view of your ass slapping against his thighs. "You better cum deep, baby. I want it dripping out while I deal with your mouthy friend."

Mydei bit his lip hard. His hand drifted down to stroke himself again, but you caught him.

“Ah-ah,” you sing-songed, lifting one hand to smack his inner thigh. He jolted with a curse. “No touching unless I say.”

“Fuckin’—” he hissed, biting down a moan. “You’re evil.”

You smirked and rolled your hips harder on Phainon, his glasses fogged and his mouth hanging open.

“M-Mistress, I’m gonna—please—!” he gasped, and you laughed, full and bright, as his voice cracked mid-sentence.

“Then do it, good boy. Fill me up. Give me everything.”

Phainon came with a sweet, desperate cry, clinging to your waist like you were the only thing tethering him to reality. You didn’t stop. Didn’t let up. Not until he was trembling and spent, whimpering as your hand lazily cupped over your tummy.

“Good boy,” you purred, bending forward just a little. Your skirt slipped down a bit, ass still bare. “Now it’s your turn, Mydei.”

He blinked, flushed and stiff and ready. “…Wait, really?”

“Only if you bend over and take your spanking first. Brats get punished.”

His cock twitched.

“…Fuck. Okay.”

You smiled, licking your lips.

“C’mon… let’s go,” you whispered with a smirk, one hand yanking Mydei by the collar while your other kept Phainon tucked close behind you. He was still shaky from the way you’d milked him dry, stumbling and pink-cheeked as you dragged both nerds out of the dusty library and into an empty classroom nearby.

The moment the door clicked shut, Mydei let out a sharp, bratty sigh. “About damn time—”

Smack.

Your palm landed squarely on his ass.

“Ow—! Fuck—”

“Did I say you could speak yet?” you purred, grabbing his hips and pushing him forward over the teacher’s desk. “I told you. Brats get punished.”

Phainon stood awkwardly by the wall, trying not to look too hard at your dripping pussy when you pulled your panties fully off, but failing miserably. You could feel his eyes on you. His breath caught every time your skirt flipped up or your fingers grazed your slick folds.

But you had a brat to deal with first.

“Count for me, brat,” you teased, bringing your hand down hard across Mydei’s ass again. It jiggled under your palm, a pretty red bloom marking his pale skin.

“S-screw you—”

Smack.

“That’s two.”

He growled into the desk, but obeyed.

“…Three.”

Another smack. “Louder.”

“Four, fuck, four, okay?!”

“Good boy,” you whispered, finally sliding your soaked fingers along the seam of his thighs. His cock was twitching between his legs, painfully hard and leaking. You dragged your fingers down to your pussy, collecting your own arousal and smearing it over his tip, taunting him.

“You want this pussy, Mydei?” you cooed, dragging the lips apart right in front of his flushed face, letting him see the creamy mess still clinging to your folds from Phainon’s earlier load. “Gonna stuff this brat cock in where your friend just came?”

His answer was a pathetic little whimper, hips rutting against air.

“Use your words,” you warned, reaching around to spank the base of his cock.

“Yes, I want it—I want that sloppy pussy, please, I’ll be good—!”

You grinned and leaned over him, one knee up on the desk, teasing your dripping cunt along his shaft, back and forth until his legs shook.

Behind you, Phainon was panting quietly, trying so hard not to touch himself again. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose. His cock was already twitching back to life in his pants. You turned slightly, just enough so he could see everything—how slowly you sank down onto Mydei, how your pussy stretched around the head of his cock, swallowing him inch by inch with a slick, wet squelch.

“Watch closely, sweetheart,” you told Phainon with a breathy moan. “Watch how a brat gets tamed.”

Mydei gasped—half in relief, half in overstimulation—as your walls clamped around him.

“F-fuck… so tight… ngh—too hot—”

You bounced slowly, deliberately, moaning low as your pussy milked him deeper. His hands clawed at the desk, nails scratching the surface as you picked up pace, slapping down onto him again and again until the room was filled with filthy sounds—slick, wet, needy.

“You feel that?” you gasped, grinding your hips down hard. “That’s your punishment, baby. You’re gonna cum deep and you’re not pulling out. This pussy wants to breed you.”

Mydei cursed beneath you, helpless now—hips jerking up into every thrust.

“Gonna fill you—fuck, fuck, please, let me—!”

Your walls clenched hard. You reached behind and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back.

“Then do it.” Your voice was low, dangerous. “Pump that load into me like the useless little nerd you are. Breed your bully’s pussy, baby.”

That was all it took.

He came hard, choking on a moan, his cock twitching deep inside your spasming walls as he emptied himself, thick and hot and spilling past your lips with every pulse. You sighed, grinding against him through the aftershocks, letting the creamy mess ooze out around him.

“…Fuck,” he whined into the desk, weak and used.

You stood slowly, adjusting your skirt with your pussy still dripping both nerds’ loads, letting it trickle down your thighs.

Then, you turned to Phainon.

His eyes were wide. His pants tight again.

You smiled.

“Your turn, sweet boy. Bring your desk chair over here.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[luvyeni]

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── mark can’t stand jeno talking to you or even being around you…

( 対 ) mark lee + fem. reader wc. 0.8k genre smut· contains! mature content. / back to library

watching you basically drool over jeno mark could only feel one thing — he wanted to kill him. he wanted to kill him because how dare he make you laugh like that? flex his muscles and flaunt , mark was pissed. “could you not look at jeno like you want to rip his head off for talking to her.”

he scoffed. “talking to her? he’s practically ready fuck her right then and there.” haechan rolled his eyes at his friend. “aren’t you the one who says he doesn’t want a relationship? this is your fault.” he tapped the boy's shoulders walking away. the boy was right, and maybe that’s was his problem , but now as he watches jeno put his arm around your shoulder — he can only feel one emotion : anger.

“you wanna get out of here?” jeno whispers in your ear. “or are you only here to make a certain person upset?” you smirked. “what to do you want?” his eyes trace your body and he groans. “as much as i want to take you out of here , your current problem is currently on his way over here , and im gonna walk away so i don’t get into a fight with one of my best friends.” he gave you a kiss to the temples just to piss mark off even more before walking away.

you can feel him walking up behind you and before you could even turn around, he was dragging you away. “mark.” you say , but he just turns to you. “shut up.” he drags you to a nearby room , closing the door.

“you love fucking with me don’t you?” pushing you against the door. “what did i do?” you pout innocently. “keep playing games yn.” his hand coming up to your cheeks to squeeze your cheeks. “it won’t end well for you.”

that shut you right there; he smirked , letting your face go. “on your knees.” you drop immediately down. “look at you , ready for anything i give you even if you were just ready to ride jeno in fucking public.” he unbuckled his belt , pushing his pants down to his ankles. “fucking slut.” pulling his cock out from his shorts , his mushroom tip dripping with pre-cum as he slapped it on your lips. “open your mouth.”

he pushed his cock into your mouth with a groan. “ah fuck!” he hissed , holding the back of your head as he began to rut into your mouth; his cock hitting the back of your throat , making you gag. “mmh fuck.” he grabbed the wall to hold himself off. “such a tight throat , gonna fucking cum.” he used your mouth to get himself off , holding the back of your head , pushing it down. “fuck!” he cursed as his cock twitched as he shot ropes of cum down your throat. “swallow it, swallow my fucking cum.”

pushing you on the bed, your skirt rolling up to your stomach. “look at how wet you fucking are.” he cupped your clothed cunt. “is this for me , or for him?” you whimpered, desperate for his touch. “answer me.” he slapped your cunt , you shouted. “you!” he pulled your thong to the side , the tip of his cock against your hole. “that’s right.” he pushed himself inside you. “fuck you’re so wet.”

he gripped your waist , pounding into you. “you’re fucking mine.” he growled , hand wrapping around your throat. “understand? he can’t fuck you like i can.” pressing down on your lower belly , a pornographic moan emitting from your throat. “he can’t make you cum like me.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “such a whore for my dick , you gonna cum?” you nodded. “who said that you can? hmm? i wanna hear you beg.” he began to slow down , making sure you could feel all of him. “fucking beg.”

“mark please , pl-please let me cum.” his named flowed out your mouth like a mantra; over and over. “please.” he held your legs , pushing them against your chest as he went as deep as he could , your eyesight going white as he whispered into your ear. “cum for me.”

and that’s all you needed before you we’re gripping the sheet , letting out a scream as you came. “ah shit!” he pulled out , tugging at his cock , cumming all over your stomach. “fuck.” he sighed; riding out his own high , tapping the tip of his cock on your sensitive bud. “mine.”

you could barely remember the party the next day ; only the part of the night where after the party mark took you back to his place pulling three more orgasms out of you before allowing you to finally rest next to your , rubbing your stomach. “you’re my girl okay?” he kissed your temple.

“i wanna be the only man ever on your mind.”

©️LUVYENI

[cvnntagious]

:: matt’s special solo surprise for your eyes only

9:28 pm

matt was desperate. this wasn’t the usual hard-on he’d get after thinking too hard about all the things you to have done or could do together—he was being starved. for the first time since you’d started dating, he didn’t have you at his beck and call to fix whatever problem he was having. that’s when you got it.

attachment: 1 video

“don’t have much time,” matt’s hushed voice immediately came through your speakers when you clicked on his message, the sounds of him shuffling following close behind as he adjusted his camera to finally reveal what he wanted you to see most—his painfully hard dick in his hand. it was nice a pretty, already leaking precum from having been neglected as the dim light of the tour bus highlighted every vein. “i- i know no touching ourselves is in the rules, but i can’t help it… need you so bad.”

the angle shifted sloppily again before finally giving you another full view of his dick, making it clear he wasn’t used to things like this. then, his slender fingers wrapped nicely around his girth, giving it a light squeeze before pumping it slowly. he sucked in a sharp breath behind the camera, exhaling a low grown as he repeated his actions a little faster. “wish this was you,” he whispered, sounding almost out of breath, “you know how much i love your soft hands, don’t you? really feeling like i take ‘em for granted now…”

with that, his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, giving it the attention it begged for when he spread the beads of liquid around it, sucking in another sharp breath at the sensitivity. after a short moment, his hand went back to tugging at his cock, must faster and more aggressive now than before. “oh shiiitt,” he drawled, the slapping sounds of him pumping himself in such a rushed manner echoing in his microphone.

suddenly, he gasped when he felt his balls drawing in close, camera flipping to show his face twisting in pleasure, eyes squinting. “baby, i’m go-“ his voice cracked, a whimper pulling from his throat before his head fell onto the backrest behind him, “m’gonna cum,” he finished in a whine

the camera flipped again, another view of his practically dripping dick right in front of your face. it jumped in his hand, but his pace remained unwavering for a minute, bringing him to his climax fast. spurts of white liquid shot out of his twitching length, and needy groans fell from matt’s pink lips repeatedly. a bit of his release even shot up at the lense because of how close he was holding his phone, the corner blurred by his cum as he pumped himself through his climax.

once he’d finished, you could still see the part of his stomach exposed from having lifted his shirt up tensing as he came down. a few more whimpers escaped his mouth as you heard him catching his breath, only to be caught a bit off guard by the camera flipping to show his now fucked out face again.

“i love you,” matt spoke to the camera almost immediately, hardly bothering to finish catching his breath, “miss you so much,” was the last the he said before bringing the phone up to his face, the sound of him kissing it slightly cut off when the video finishes.

boy were you wet.

a/n. need this full pic badd

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ OVERSTIM WITH CALEB (PART 2) !!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: some scenarios in which caleb would react to being overstimulated !!

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+ , public sex , dry humping , overstimulation , porn with no plot , dom!reader , sub!caleb , use of y/n (once)

a/n :: heres part one ! this is most likely the last part , hope you enjoy :)

IN PUBLIC :: look , sometimes caleb cant help himself . all the time when he sees you to take you out on dates or just a casual hangout at a café , you look so unbelievably scrumptious he just has to have you right there ! he'd reach his hand over to place on your thigh , slowly sliding higher and higher until you notice . he doesn't stop though ... why would he ? in his depraved mind , he's gonna finger you senseless right then and there in front of all these people ... but little does he know he'll be the one going senseless . you'd slap away his hand and before he knows it you're unbuttoning his jeans on the down-low , looking around to see if anyones paying attention before slithering under the table . caleb is whispering to you and grasping at the sides of his seat , fighting actual demons trying to not make a sound as you slurp up his cock . he was doing pretty well at being quiet before his cum shot down your throat and you kept going . poor boy has slumped his head on the table , eyes squeezed tight , knuckles white from how hard he's gripping your hair , hips twitching without control . his attempts to be undercover are futile as he's so sensitive to your mouth ... the whole restaurant is giving him stares and whispers of concern :/.

DRY HUMPING :: now i didn't know it was even possible to become overstimulated by dry humping , but caleb proved me wrong . it doesnt matter if you guys are clothed or not , he can still feel and imagine your perfect cunt with precision; making it easier for him to fall over the edge in his pants . especially when he can feel your warmth through the fabric ?! best thing ever . that euphoria wouldnt last long before it was replaced with the familiar feeling of overwhelming pleasure ... too much pleasure . "w-wait pips- hah, fuck.. s'too much baby, stopstop.." he'd murmur , grabbing onto your hips as an anchor . although he already came , by the mere thought of how dirty your guys situation was , you didnt come along with him . you didnt necessarily mean to overstimulate him .. it's just a natural instinct to want to chase the high of an orgasm . underneath you , the dampness of his trousers was getting to your thighs and making it easier to slide across his lap . this would go on until you came for the first time and him for the second , thrashing underneath you .

BEING AWAY FOR TOO LONG :: would happen if he was away on a prolonged mission , he would get so needy and desperate for you that he physically couldn't stop . he'd cum multiple times and still have more to give , overstimulating the both of you . it'd get so bad to the point where he's sobbing big crocodile tears and begging himself to stop , drooling like a dog onto your chest , seeking the sweet embrace of your breasts . "i know pips .. i know , im s-sorry. it's too much for me, too . i just cant stop when ive been away from my perfect pussy for too long . " but you know his apologies arent for real . every thrust of his hips would send a jolt of white-hot adrenaline up his spine , not even pleasure anymore; forcing himself past the limit solely for the purpose of staying inside of you for longer . after he cums for what felt like the 1500 time , he'd lay atop of you , motionless . he's quite literally incapable of moving other than the aftershocks shaking him . the next day you both would woke up at 12pm and stayed in bed together the rest of the day , lacking the ability to walk right .

BEGGING :: obviously , caleb would beg for you almost every time you guys had sex; but there are some nights where he's particularly more vocal than usual . you've noticed that a way to get him like that is to have him on all fours , pleading for you to stop jerking him off . "please baby please .. im too sensitive, im a pathetic mess, im disgusting and filthy . im begging you, y/n, please. " while he spends lots of sweet time talking , it never works . it always ends the same , with your hand (or cunt) on his dick , making him squirm and moan for you for hours on end .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: overstimulating may just be this boy's favorite activity!