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backstory stuff (req.) ── ✮⋆˙
pairing: dean x fem!reader genre: fluff to note/warnings: objectifying dean bc he looks edible, shameless ogling, kissing and making out, cussing word count: 2.5k a/n: tysm to @midnight--raine for requesting this! i definitely had the "blablabla place name proper name backstory stuff" audio stuck in my head writing this, hence the title for this drabble; btw i, too, would not be able to focus. other than that, this is written in 3rd person pov, which is actually my preferred style of writing/reading.
“Don’t forget the pie,” Dean called out, just before the door closed shut with a thud. That was about the last coherent sentence she was able to make out – and not because what followed was inaudible or anything like that. The priorities of her focus have simply… shifted.
Plus, and that was a much more favorable explanation for her own conscience, silence filled the space currently. Usually silence between them was comfortable, but at that moment she felt like her heart was hammering against her chest so intensely that the sound echoed off the walls, and like her blood was rushing through her veins was as loud as a waterfall in her ears.
With Sam off to buy some much needed food, she and Dean were left behind in the motel room, the space of which suddenly seemed awfully cramped. Ironic, considering how insistent she had been on not minding to share a room with the brothers, despite Sam’s double-inquiry if they should rent separate ones:
“They have another spare room,” Sam said.
“It’s fine, Sam,” she replied.
“Are you sure?” Sam followed up.
“Positive,” she confirmed with a nod.
“Dean might snore again and–”
Cue his older brother: “Speak for yourself, Sammy!”
“One room is enough, Sam,” she chuckled, clearly amused by the familiar bickering.
Two beds and a couch were plenty of space, after all, and it would only be for a night – whoever lost at rock-paper-scissors (Dean, of course) would survive a couple of hours on a couch.
Except she wasn’t sure if she could even make it through the next thirty to forty minutes.
This case was a tricky one and her attention span was pretty much dead as is, especially on an empty stomach. In hindsight, she still regretted grumbling about being hungry. Maybe she should’ve volunteered to make the trip to the convenience store instead of Sam. Then she wouldn’t be stuck here, making a fool of herself.
Neither the tablet in her lap nor the books sprawled around her on the bed were of interest to her anymore. Not with her blood sugar low. Not with too many frustrating hours of not finding anything. And most importantly:
Not with Dean sitting on the couch right across from her.
Not with the way his hand was holding his book open in his lap, long fingers nestled right in the joint of the pages, wedged in the folds in a way that shouldn’t look half as erotic as it did to her. Christ, she had to snap out of it.
As if on cue, Dean cleared his throat, startling her to the point of flinching. Her panicked eyes darted away from his hands and to his face while she silently begged – more like downright prayed – he hadn’t caught her staring.
His eyes remained glued to the pages, unbothered as ever and indicating the coincidental nature of his actions. Relieved, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not that the fear of getting caught made her stop gawking at him. And, honestly, could anyone blame her? Nobody.
Not with the way he rolled up his sleeves, exposing freckles and veins on his arms, which he – to make matters worse – just had to stretch out, first forward, then upward, his muscles flexing. Not with the way he tipped his head back too, straining his neck until it gave a soft pop and he gave a soft groan.
Snapping out of it was no longer an option. Except it had to be. Dean and her were friends, partners in crime only in a jokeful and strictly platonic matter. In a poor attempt to distract herself, she decided to speak up. Anything to disrupt this silence, the tension of which was as palpable as it was torturous for her.
“If the couch is too uncomfortable, you can have my bed,” she offered, watching as he shifted around on the cushions. Lost game or not, Dean was the one who always had to endure hours behind the wheel and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about denying his sore body the comfort of a proper mattress.
“Worried for me, sweetheart?” He scoffed with a teasing grin that made her simultaneously roll her eyes and feel the tips of her ears turn red.
“You’re the one cracking your joints like you’re suffering from arthritis,” she huffed.
“Nah, ‘s fine,�� he mumbled in response, rotating his shoulders briefly, before redirecting his focus to his book.
Silence befell the room once more and she had to admit his diligence was admirable, compared to her own. She was still way too distracted to think about the case, while he was purposefully flipping through the pages. His brows were knitted together in deep concentration, those emerald eyes of his squinted slightly as he skimmed over the words. Not to mention his mouth.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue poking out. Its tip ran along the seam and over his bottom lip briefly, moistening the skin there into a glossy state. As if their pink shade wasn’t mesmerizing enough to look at already. His pearly whites followed close, biting the glistening skin of his lower lip, sucking it in for a second, before releasing it with a click of his tongue.
How soft those lips would probably feel, she wondered. She bet they were warm. They probably tasted like whiskey.
Their shape was worth obsessing over, too – plump and full, the soft curve of his cupid’s bow so perfect it might’ve as well been painted by an artist. The left corner of his lips curled upwards suddenly, his mouth forming words, the content of which went straight over her head. She registered the sound of his voice, but the actual syllables fell on deaf ears.
She was so busy observing the movement of his lips that she didn’t realize he wasn’t just mumbling to himself, but actually talking to her. Only when he tilted his head and said her name did her eyes widen.
“Sorry,” she uttered, her own voice breathless and strained and her throat feeling tight. And so very dry, no matter how often she’d try to swallow the lump in there. “What was that?”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up and his gaze wandered down on her, swiftly.
“I said: Could you look up–,” he repeated, but interrupted himself mid sentence with a sigh and a sheepish grin. “Nevermind, give me that.”
Discarding his book onto the coffee table, Dean lifted himself off of the couch and made his way over to her bed with a confident stride. He plopped down right next to her. Her breath nearly hitched in her throat as she felt the mattress sink slightly beneath them, but she didn’t resist as he reached for her tablet.
Usually she would’ve protested at him touching her stuff without asking, but the subtle brush of his fingers against her own sent an electric jolt down her spine that made her forget all her words. Either oblivious to her reaction or simply not caring, Dean proceeded to type away on the screen. She figured he must’ve had an epiphany and was trying to look up a possible solution to whatever creature they were searching for. But with every fiber of her searching for the details of Dean’s body next to hers, she couldn't care less about any monster.
His lips were moving again. That is to say, he was speaking, but the auditive part thereof blended into the background while the visual aspect grasped her full attention. She couldn’t help it; up close the view was even more alluring.
She thought she recognized the vowels O and E in there somewhere, though her reception of that was purely based on what speech patterns she thought she saw his mouth produce.
“Huh?” She asked, which made him erupt in a short laugh. That sound she definitely perceived. Not only with her ears but also with her heart, which skipped yet another beat.
“You’re not a great thinker on an empty stomach, eh?” Dean teased, gently nudging his elbow against hers and turning the iPad for her to look at. Whatever he was showing her on the screen, she didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead, her eyes remained glued to him, albeit by now her gaze had at least wandered back to his eyes.
“Or maybe you’re hungry for something else,” he spoke, in such a bold and direct tone that she nearly jumped.
“What?” This time she wasn’t asking because she didn’t hear him, but precisely because his words had been loud and clear.
“No offense, but you’ve basically been gawking at me like you want a bite.”
Oh, fuck, he did catch her staring. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she struggled to come up with a snarky response on the spot. All she could do was scoff coyly.
“Have not,” she puffed, her body language betraying her even now as her eyes remained glued to his, despite her flustered state. “You wish.”
That’s what this was, right? Bickering, bantering, teasing – they’d always throw quips at each other playfully. Albeit they usually weren’t remotely close to touching a subject like this. Whatever this was, even. Romance? Longing? The aforementioned hunger?
Dean’s voice dropped an octave as he echoed her half tongue-tied denial. “Have not?” He was so smug about it too, victorious grin on those irresistible lips, mischievous spark in his green eyes, tone laced with mockery. “What’re you so flustered for then?”
“I’m not flustered, shut up,” she groaned, before turning her head away from him.
Or trying to, anyway. She was stopped in her tracks by Dean’s hand, his knuckles nestled just beneath her chin and tipping her head back. Just like that, she froze. Her heart froze. Time itself froze. Instinctively she held her breath and she did not dare to move a muscle.
His breath was a warm summer’s breeze against her skin, yet it made her shiver. His whisper tickled her senses — How was it possible for a voice to be as smooth as velvet and gravelly enough to make her tremble at the same time, anyway? “Then I’m sure you don’t mind me doing this?” She was pretty sure there was nothing Dean could’ve done right then and there that she would mind, flustered or not.
His knuckles brushed against her jawline, fingers opening slowly and cupping her cheek properly this time. As he pulled her closer, she couldn’t help but find his ministrations surprisingly tender. If she didn’t know it any better, she’d say Dean Winchester, notoriously known for being a flirtatious womanizer with an inflated ego, was just as nervous as she was. There was a tremble in his fingertips, a slight twitch in the flutter of his long lashes. A flicker of emotions in his darkened pupils.
Perhaps it was her imagination, or maybe she was projecting her own agitation onto him.
Either way, it was on her to fill that space between them. As if on instinct, her body moved on its own, leaning forward, closing her eyes, capturing his lips with her own. Even though the kiss was chaste, she already knew Dean’s pillowy lips were like a soft cloud she wanted to sink into and get lost in. His mouth was, as she had guessed, sweet and smokey with whiskey.
Their lips brushed together, tentatively at first. His fingers gently carded through her hair. The warmth that had blossomed in her chest lingered even as she pulled back again, just enough to be able to look into his eyes again.
“Who’s flustered now?” she teased within a whisper, the pink color on her cheeks betraying her confident act. However, she definitely had a point, considering that Dean’s flushed shade matched her own.
He lunged forward with enough force to pin her down onto the mattress. The sudden fierceness had her grasp onto his broad shoulders, pulling him down with her. His mouth was on hers again in an instant, hot and searing and with the intent to devour her whole. They breathed each other in, their lungs craving the depth of the kiss more than oxygen itself. Raw desire replaced the initial shyness of their first experimental peck. Dean’s tongue moved against hers as if he was trying to erase anything else from her mind. She kissed him back with equal fervor, finally bursting the bubble of endlessly long yearning and pining.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted t’do this,” Dean slurred as if drunk on her taste, his words muffled by the silky texture of her lips.
His hands traced down her sides, outlining a curve for her that her body willingly arched into. She pulled him impossibly closer and closer still, even when his mouth proceeded to wander down her jaw, down her neck. He marked a path down the column of her neck until his teeth grazed her throat to pull broken gasps and mewls from within. The meek sounds fueled him. She was practically sending him on a mission to coax all the pretty noises from her puffy, kiss-bitten lips. She was an instrument, his fingers strumming her chords. She was his favorite song.
“Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he purred and the rumble of his chest buzzed straight into her heart, down her spine all the way through her core.
“Agreed,” was the simple and only response she was able to choke out.
Her shaky fingers tightened their grip on his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under her impatient pulling and tugging. One hand snaked around his shoulders, finding home in the nape of his neck as she allowed her fingertips to comb through the tresses of his hair. Touching him was grounding, while the low growl she was able to draw from him had her feel all dizzy and fuzzy.
Dean lifted his head again to crash his lips into hers with newfound vigor. Their hands were everywhere, running over every plane of muscle, every hill and valley to the point of their limbs tangling together messily. Nothing could separate them from their magnetized state.
Except the rustling of keys at the door. As quickly as they had found each other, their lips withdrew from one another. Both her and Dean quickly sat up, faces flushed and chests heaving with ragged breaths. He cleared his throat while she busied her shaky fingers with smoothing over her hair. By the time Sam returned and closed the door behind him, they had reluctantly pulled away. The inches between them were as sobering as Sam’s voice.
“They were out of apple pie, here’s cherry,” Sam sighed, placing the plastic bag onto the coffee table. He glanced over to the two, his eyes flickering back and forth between them with wonder. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to piece together the clues. Their flushed faces, Dean’s disheveled hair, her messy shirt.
“I think I had enough sweets for today,” Dean muttered half-awkwardly towards his brother and with a half-smug wink towards her.
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taglist: @ladysparkles78
comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)
#dividers by cafekitsune#chevroletdean writes#dean winchester x reader#dean fluff#spnsc#spnfluff#supernatural x reader#spn x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural x y/n#spn x you#spn x y/n#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x y/n#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester one shot#fluff sc#fluff#scenario
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Meal Prep
((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))
Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)
Words: 5k
Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)
Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy
Summary:
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on AO3
When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you.
Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love.
Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped.
Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him.
He asks what brought this on~
"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone."
You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him.
– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.
Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.
But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.
Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.
And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.
He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."
He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.
You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.
"Whass’wrong with that?"
Bakugou simply purrs back happily.
"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."
"Maybe I don't want you to stop."
He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush.
Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.
"You don't want me to stop."
Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.
"You want me to stay."
Through a smile, you give your shy agreement.
Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,
"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”
"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever.
"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?"
"Hmm– kiss me?"
Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.
The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb.
"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?"
Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor,
“Hell yes--"
Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit.
Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.
Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.
Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands.
Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-
His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp.
The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped.
Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited.
Cheeky, you thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.
"Need your gloves?"
Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."
As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world.
"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~"
A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”
As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.
"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-”
"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”
Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.
“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."
He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows,
"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"
"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve."
One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:
Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.
"Katsuki~~"
"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."
"But I want you~~"
"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower.
His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."
A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly.
"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"
Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line.
Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.
"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.
"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.
Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."
He only gave a bemused scoff.
“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.
"No,"
Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously.
"Guess who is?"
"Y-you~"
"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"
Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.
"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."
You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands,
"Ugh God..."
His hands pawed at every bit of you.
"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"
Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now.
For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.
You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"
"Heh?"
"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."
Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.
"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.
"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."
"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.
"Fuck, me..."
"S'what I'm saying."
Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales.
Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.
A muted string of a confession leaves him,
"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."
"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."
"Yeah?"
"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."
That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.
He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal.
Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.
“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”
The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.
"Ready when you are~"
The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems.
Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support.
"Atta girl~"
You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him.
Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable.
“You got me?”
His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system.
Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.
Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,
“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha."
But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up.
Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen.
"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."
Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed.
"You're on it-?"
"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. "
Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself,
"However you want me: inside or out~"
Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."
Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.
"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”
You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted.
After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him.
Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~
"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.
"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"
Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.
‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’
The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?
"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs.
Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.
Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.
“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”
The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.
From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.
Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.
“Fun, right baby?”
Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.
“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”
Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket,
“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”
Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.
“That it is…”
Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.
"You like me~" you taunted.
"huh?~~”
"Y’said you loved me..."
Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."
This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–
"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??"
At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead.
"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?"
Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM. "NOT. funny."
You laughed at the nature of it all.
"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"
Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears.
It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit.
In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly.
"Love you, angel.”
"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.
A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.
"Stay~~"
Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.
"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on."
Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.."
He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight."
When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care.
He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place.
You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,
"What, you cold?"
"Little bit~"
"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."
Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.
"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.
Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"
"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."
"We'll figure out the glove thing."
"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”
“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”
Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front.
“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear.
"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”
"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”
As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently.
“I thought you were my dishwasher?”
Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”
“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”
“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”
You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.
This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.
But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient.
You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–
When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,
"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.”
You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.
What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.
Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.
"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."
You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.
With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...
#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#mha fanfiction#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha#bnha#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugo smut#katsuki bakugo smut#spicy dynamight
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CRAVINGS.
pairing: hybrid bangchan x gender neutral reader (with no use of y/n)
blurb: your neighbour stumbles into your apartment during a phenomenal red moon, and begs you to help him solve the inner cravings of his hidden self.
tags: creampie & unprotected sex (you do not want kids, trust me), dirty talk (praise & degradation), animalistic breeding talk, choking, oral (reader rec.), fingering, Chan whimpers (male whimpering>>>>), use of pet, minx, daddy and puppy.
wc: 3k+ (no beta reading)
a/n: i loved this one. i hope you do too.
The rain made soft sounds on your windowpane, and you wrapped the blanket around you even tighter. The storm had started out calm, but something had changed.
The news alert on your phone had called it a red moon, but the superstitious cat lady that lived in the apartment above yours called it a blood moon.
Where the beings of the supernatural world were free and powerful enough to do anything they wanted.
Of course, everyone had called her crazy. Well, everyone except the man who moved in a few weeks ago.
His name was Christopher, and he kept entirely to himself.
But you knew he wasn't lonely. Or he wasn't some kind of Grinch that had no friends.
He had seven other men that were constantly trooping in and out of his dorm, and you knew because you watched him.
You had always tried to rationalize your interest in him, but he was just so captivating. It was like your body and soul were constantly clamouring for his presence.
He lived in the apartment directly opposite yours, and there wasn't a day where you didn't run into each other.
And that was becoming an increasing problem, because Christopher was a god.
He had features that belonged on no human, and an intensity that spoke of his presence before he even entered a room.
And just like you, everyone else in the apartment complex was in love with him too.
You had caught the cat lady blushing when he helped her bring her cat down from the tree, and the landlord's oldest daughter was always hovering around him when he came back from work.
Or at least you thought he worked.
Despite your "closeness" to him, you still knew nothing about him, not even the fact of what his voice sounded like.
Your phone pinged, and you lifted it up to see the apartment chat setting off again. You sighed, opening it up to see the landlord informing about the flash flood that just happened.
The apartment groupchat was buzzing - the first time since there was a case of the apartment thief- and you were scrolling through the responding chats when your door banged.
You flinched, nearly dropping your phone. There was no fucking way someone was walking around the halls. It was so fucking cold that you were still shivering, despite the fact you were sitting in front of the fireplace and wrapped up in your thickest blanket.
You got to your feet, wrapping the blanket even tighter around you as you made your way to the door.
The way your heart beat in your chest was almost deafeaning, and you could feel it slowly dropping to your feet as you swung the door open, freezing when you saw Christopher.
He flushed when his eyes landed on you, and you could have sworn he was paler than usual.
Christopher held up a mug, the flush disappearing so fast you almost thought you had imagined it.
"Do you have sugar? I wanted to make hot chocolate, but I found out my friends had finished it last time they were over, and I can't really go out to the store in my car right now."
It was the first time you had heard his voice, and by the gods, you could feel your knees knock together in your chest.
Knees don't knock in your chest, silly.
You realized Christopher was still staring, and you gestured at him to come in, tightening your grip on your blanket.
He walked in after you, sliding his free hands into his pocket. It was that move that made you notice his outfit, a simple black sweatshirt and grey sweatpants.
"Aren't you cold?" You asked as you closed the door behind him, a gust of air nearly making your bones clatter so loud it echoed in your skull.
Christopher's eyes ran over you, and you suddenly forgot you were cold. His eyes were like molten fire, and you could swear they scorched your skin as they made their way over them.
"No."
His tone made you know the conversation was over, so you shrugged and made your way to your kitchen, heading straight for your pantry.
Grabbing the sugar down, you spun around to see Chris directly behind you, and you nearly screamed. Jesus, he moved too quietly and you had squeaky floorboards.
"Thank you." His hands brushed over yours as you handed him the jar, and if his eyes had scorched you, his touch burned you from the inside out.
You could feel yourself getting hot, and it was like you didn't need the blanket anymore, because the flames were licking their ways through your veins and settling in your muscles.
"What are you?" The question left your mouth before you could process it, and you saw Christopher flinch, his grip on the jar getting so tight you briefly wondered if he could break the glass.
"What do you mean?" His voice hadn't changed in tone, but they were now melting through your ears like butter, like he had honey on his tongue.
"Well, you definitely aren't normal. You want to tell me what you actually are and what you really came here for?" You grabbed your phone, typing in '911' and showing him the screen.
He was so warm you could still feel it from here.
Christopher ran his hands through his hair and cursed, moving back. This time, when his eyes landed on you again, they were pure red, like blood.
His voice came out more rumbled, and you could tell he was nervous. "I am a hybrid."
What?
Before you could blink, he was suddenly in front of you and he grabbed your hands, gripping them so hard your scream died somewhere in your throat. "You cannot tell anyone, pet. I came here because....my wolf likes you."
You were so sure your confusion was written all across your face because Christopher sighed, before leading you towards your bedroom, where he made you sit on your bed.
He wasn't holding the jar anymore and before you could ask where it was, Christopher was leaving your room, coming back with a glass of water. "I had to leave the den area, just to make sure no one could hear us. Drink this."
The last part of his statement dripped with so much command and authority that you found yourself drinking, and Christopher smiled, slipping his hands in his pockets. "Good pet."
Your body immediately responded, and you saw his eyes shutter before he stepped back, his hands folding across his massive chest. "Take a deep breath for me."
Nodding, you lowered the glass, even as you felt your thighs slick with wetness from your core. He wasn't even touching you, but you could feel his existence and presence like a caress against your skin.
"I am a vampire and werewolf. That's what a hybrid is. I didn't trust myself alone, considering I haven't been alone for a red moon before, and like I said...My wolf likes you. It is calmer in your presence." He wasn't looking at you, but nothing about his posture or the tone of his voice screamed nervous.
In fact, your only clue was the red of his ears.
"So...I am your mate?" You asked out loud, briefly remembering all the lore you had read on the whole omegaverse. It was still trippy to believe it was real, talk less of accepting that you were actually someone's mate.
And for someone as attractive and sexy as Christopher.
He nodded, pursing his lips as his eyes trailed over you. "So it would seem. The urges are still nearly fucking suffocating, but I can withstand it better as long as I don't..."
You parted your thighs, and the scent from your core was suddenly visible to you, and you knew Christopher would smell it. Was that why you did it?
The reaction was instantaneous, and Christopher shuddered, a whimper leaving his lips. "Fuck, puppy. You really shouldn't have done that."
"I am your mate, right? You are supposed to use me." You didn't understand where your words were coming from and you sure as hell didn't fully understand everything yet, but you wanted to be there for Chris. You had wanted him since you saw him, and now, he was right here in front of you.
"Pet, I am begging. Close your legs and we can talk about this. There is still so much I haven't said yet. I cannot..." His words cut off in a groan when you rubbed yourself over your underwear and the desire in his eyes was igniting something in you.
You wanted to burn and crash with him.
You held out your hand, smiling. "Use me."
Christopher sighed, and his head lifting and you were about to drop your hand when he moved suddenly, pushing you up on the bed. You gasped, and his hand came down to slam your back on the bed, his scent filling your nose.
It made slick release from you, and you moaned, pitching your hips up to get any amount of friction.
You expected him to touch you, but he just laughed, moving down your body.
His lips brushed over your thighs, and Christopher's hands spread your knees apart. "You are absolutely dripping for me, pet. Have I left you hungry?"
You nodded, feeling your belly swoosh and dip as his lips brushed closer to your inner thigh this time, making my head swim. He hadn't changed, but there was something so different about him now that had you breathless.
"Christopher, please."
"Beg me louder."
Shame flew out the window as he pressed his palm against you, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he positioned himself between your thighs.
"Please!"
A satisfied rumble left his lips as his head dipped, and the first contact of his lips against your core had your hips arching right off the bed.
Christopher tsked, lifting his head, his hand coming up to pin your hips to the bed. His lips were glistening with your juice, and he licked them clean, darting his eyes back between your thighs.
"You are rather sensitive, pet. But I have a note of warning for you."
He spread your thighs apart wider, his voice going hoarse. "You stay put." He waited for your nod before he gave you a smile that chills climbing up your spine. "Can I finish now, pet? I hate being interrupted."
You held your breath, nodding and he didn't wait another second, diving back between your legs and running his tongue across your slit.
"Fuck, you taste so good." He muttered, sucking your clit into his mouth just as his fingers slid into you. His fingers curled just as his teeth grazed your clit, and the added effect made pressure burst beneath your eyes.
Your thighs started shaking and your vision blurred as you stared at him, your hands gripping the bedsheets so hard your knuckles went white. "Chris…"
"Beg me louder, pretty thing. I know you can. You can be so good for me, can't you?" His voice was muffled, and he was almost lost in the way his tongue and teeth worked together in tandem with his lips and fingers, and you knew you weren't going to last.
"Chris, please." You begged, not even knowing what exactly you were begging for. All you knew was that, he could give it to you. In that instant, you didn't care about any of the consequences.
His eyes slid up to meet yours, just as his fingers found that spot inside you and curled, pressing up against it and your back shot off the bed, your core clenching around his fingers. "Come on, pretty slut. I don't like to be kept waiting."
He lifted his free hand and spanked your hip, and that did it, and you felt the orgasm suddenly slam and roll through you like a whiplash.
You were sure you had gone blind, and everything was bright and ringing in your ears as you screamed his name, not caring that you were still riding his fingers even as the tremors over took you.
When you came down, Christopher moved up your body, his lips immediately finding yours. "You did so well for me, my gorgeous little whore. You made me so so proud."
You felt the pleasure light up inside you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as his hand came up to squeeze around your throat.
His tongue slid inside your mouth and you felt a delirious sick feeling pass through you as you tasted yourself off his tongue. His hand squeezed and his body draped over yours, pressing you down into the bed.
Christopher groaned, his lips leaving your lips to start kissing and sucking on your neck. "God, I have wanted to scent you from the moment you came home after that party."
A moan left your lips as you felt his pheromones rise around you as his lips left marks on your skin. His hands drifted away from your neck to grip your hips tight enough that you were sure he would leave bruises.
"Jealous?" You managed to ask, trying to inject a playful tone, even though your voice was hoarse.
"Yes." Chris's hands squeezed your hips and he shifted you until you met his erection through his pants.
"Christopher." You whispered, breathless as he jerked you over him again, his eyes shuttering close. A whimper left his throat as he did it again, and this time you wrapped your legs around him.
"I am yours. Do you hear me, pet?" He whispered, his eyes trained on the spot in between your thighs, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Even though the light in the room was limited, you could tell his eyes were unnaturally dark, and you placed your hands on his cheek, lifting his head. "Christopher?"
He moaned softly and leaned into your touch, his body almost shuddering. "It is my wolf. He is testing the limits of my self control, and I don't want to hurt you. Not like that."
Christopher's voice was completely different, and his grip on your waist tightened. His eyes landed on the marks he had left on your neck, and you could see the struggle waring in his eyes.
You wanted him.
You leaned in till your lips brushed his ear, darting your tongue out to lick it, before nipping at it lightly. "Have me."
Christopher moaned louder, his eyes lifting to meet mine, this time hazy with pure lust. This was more than human. It was borderline animalistic.
It lit a fire inside you, but his eyes closed and when they opened, they looked more like the normal Christopher you were used to.
Unlike the eyes of a powerful predator that was obvious a few seconds ago.
"I want to take it slow, baby. What if I really hurt you?"
"I want it rough. I was born for you, Chris. I can take it. Give it to me rough...Please." You whispered, running your hands up his chest as you lifted up to start biting his ear again.
He was so still, and you waited till his head dropped in your neck before you whispered again. "Please, daddy. I promise to be a very good pet."
Christopher's spine stiffened and his hand came up to grip your throat, squeezing it once hard enough to cut off your circulation. "You fuckin minx."
You bit back your grin as he lifted himself up on both hands and stared down at you, a hand coming off the bed to lift the shirt you were wearing till it was bunched up at your neck. "Look at you."
A shiver ran through up your spine and his eyes darted down your body and he smirked. "You want it so bad, huh, pet? My fingers and tongue weren't enough for you?"
You felt your cheeks flush, and it wasn't in embarrassment.
Christopher's eyes flickered, and you got the sense he was slipping in control, and his wolf was quickly taking over.
"Call me that again, Pet."
You knew what he was talking about, and you held his gaze as you parted your lips with a smile. "Daddy."
"You call those other men Daddy too?"
You hadn't, but he didn't need to know that.
"Yeah. Jealous?" You repeated, and Christopher laughed, sounding more and more like a wolf, not a human.
"Jealous? No, sweetheart. They don't exist to you anymore. I have a big job on my plate, mhm? I got to make sure my slut is always satisfied, huh? Fill them up with my pups too."
He leaned down to kiss the mark on your neck. "You got a really needy pussy, darling. It takes more than one orgasm to satisfy you. But, don't worry. I am fully capable of taking care of you…"
It was definitely his wolf now.
Earlier, it was clear to you that Christopher had held himself back, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but with the way his hand was still gripping your neck and waist, whatever restraint he had was out the window.
"Your needy pussy is waiting, Daddy." You whispered, smiling when you saw his eyes twitch. Bingo.
He didn't let go of your neck, instead using his other hand to pull down his boxers along with his sweatpants, revealing a mouth watering cock that you knew would bruise everywhere inside you.
Christopher positioned himself at your entrance, but didn't move, instead squeezing your neck a little tighter. It made another wave of wetness gush out of you, and if he noticed, he didn't say anything.
"Say please, pet."
"Please."
He tsked, his hand squeezing your neck again. "Come on. Tell Daddy how much you really want his cock slamming inside you. Filling you up till you can't breathe."
His voice dropped impossibly lower and a dark smirk lifted his lips. "Till you forget your own name and your voice goes hoarse."
You wanted him to move. You needed him to move. The pressure of his tip against you was staring to fuck with your head, and you canted your hips up towards him. "Please, Daddy. Fuck me till I remember who I belong to."
He slammed in without warning, making the both of you burst into groans. "You belong to us, pretty thing. You are ours to play with. Man, wolf and vampire."
He slid back out and slammed back in, jerking you upwards on the bed. You moaned, feeling his tip bump against a spot inside you that you hadn't even know existed.
"Ours to devour."
Another slow slam that had your thighs trembling.
"Ours to cherish."
His hand left your neck to lift your legs onto his shoulders and his next thrust was so deep that it had you seeing stars and you could swear you could feel him in your throat.
"Ours to ruin."
You could feel him everywhere, and he suddenly pulled out, before slamming into you again, so deep a whimper left your throat, and he smiled, whispering.
"Ours to love."
He grabbed your face, forcing you to face him. "Say you are ours. Say you are mine."
"I am yours."
"And?"
His voice was tauntingly slow, but his pace was so different that the contrast had your head swimming.
"I belong to all of you."
"That's right, pretty baby. You are ours. Our pretty little needy human, aren't you?"
If you thought his pace was brutal, you were dead wrong. He suddenly switched, and it wasn't long before you felt the snap in your belly build up and start spreading all over you.
"Christopher, please."
He grunted, grabbing your hips to meet his thrusts. "i am going to fucking fill you up, baby. You would look so good full of my pups. Do you want that?"
Your brain had slid out of your skull, and you nodded, your voice going hoarse as your orgasm ripped through you, making every nerve in your body start thrumming.
The clenching around his dick and the way you had started milking him made Chris curse, before pausing as his groans got more guttural, and he started spilling into you.
He collapsed on top of you, muttering apologies into your hair. "Fuck, I am sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?"
He shifted the both of you, till you both laid on your sides, but he didn't slide out of you. He hadn't lessened, but you could feel him going soft inside you.
You shook your head, brushing your nose against his chest. "I loved it."
He kissed your neck, and you pulled back in time to see him wince. "You have bruises."
"I want them." You cupped his face. "I want you."
Christopher groaned, burying his face in your neck again. "Fuck, you are going to get me hard again."
You smiled and pulled him closer. "You wouldn't complain."
His answering laugh told you everything you needed to know, and he finally pulled out, whipping his shirt over his head to start cleaning you up.
"So....I ran my mouth a little."
You laughed, rolling your eyes. "A little?"
He smacked your thigh, lifting up to kiss your lips softly. "You liked it."
"Just like you liked it when I called you Daddy?" You said against his lips and this time he smacked your hips, a pained groan leaving his lips.
"Sweetheart, behave. I am trying not to fuck you again."
You wrapped your hands around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you let your lips brush his ear. "I am empty without you, Christopher. Aren't you going to help me?"
He pushed at your shoulder, laughing as you let go off his neck. "You fucking tease. You are sore."
"I like the pain."
He threw the shirt over his shoulder, smiling softly at you. "Do you?"
He kissed you so softly, his taste sneaking its way into your lungs as his tongue slid into your mouth and his hands came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over it.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I am going to make your voice so hoarse, our neighbors would think you got a cold."
Then he smoothly moved off you, and when you looked up at him, a blush spread over his cheeks. It was so out of odds with his previous behavior that you felt your jaw drop.
A flush spreading over his cheeks, Christopher leaned forward and snapped your jaw shut with his hand, his eyes going soft. "I meant that, and I really enjoyed this, but, Pet? This wasn't how our first meeting was supposed to go."
You leaned into his hand as it slid up your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. You held back the involuntary shiver, and Christopher's eyes darkened.
"I was supposed to take you out to Minho's restaurant."
"Wait, like the reclusive 3 star chef Lee Minho?" You didn't bother hiding your excitement, and Chris shook his head, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.
"Yeah, I can get us a reservation." His eyes suddenly became serious, and he leaned away from you to drag his eyes down your body.
"But only if you want to, love. I wouldn't force anything on you otherwise. If you want to say no, you are 100% free to."
You grinned and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. "Yes, Christopher. It's a date."
His answering smile against your lips was everything, and as his hands slid around your waist, you felt the thing inside you that had been out of place for so long slid into place.
You were home.
end notes
this one was so fun to write. please leave behind likes and feedback if you loved it!
#si11yw0rm#si11yw0rm smut#fanfic#bang chan#christopher bang#bangchan x reader#skz smut#bangchan smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids smut#bangchan stray kids#werewolf smut#hybrid bangchan#omegaverse#bangchan x you
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hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3
Not So Secret.
carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - cursing.
written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”
“Shut up.”
Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.
You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.
Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.
“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”
When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.
“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”
“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”
She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.
“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”
“Carmy will go with you!”
Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.
“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”
Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.
“You’re okay with me driving?”
“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”
You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.
“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”
He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.
He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.
A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.
From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.
Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.
You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.
He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.
“Carmy.”
“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”
You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.
“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”
He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.
“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”
He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.
“I think you know.”
“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.
He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.
“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”
You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.
“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”
“Who bet on you? And who against?”
“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”
“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”
He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.
“Kiss me, Carm.”
He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.
You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.
“You should get your eyes checked.”
He tries to process for a moment.
“Huh?”
“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”
He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.
When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.
#murphy’s 5k celebration#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto x reader smut#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto x you#the bear fluff#the bear smut#the bear x y/n#the bear x reader#the bear x you
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Info time: Diabetes and related issues [this is long but I highly suggest reading]
Do you ever see something and you go "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about diabetes to dispute it"? Well, I can help you there. I can help you know enough about diabetes to dispute it if need be. Especially because well, there are seemingly a lot of scams going around where people claim to be diabetic [in my experience it's maybe 3 scammers that just remake] and the information is not very correct in most cases. Not to mention this type of scam pisses me off because I am in fact diabetic, and not only are people preying off of others' lack of information about the chronic condition, but it's also trivializing a serious lifelong condition that can be fatal. If you have now or have lost a loved one to diabetes complications, you are already aware of how dangerous it can be as well as how dangerous misinformation is as well.
What is diabetes? Diabetes is a chronic condition related to the endocrine system- the pancreas specifically. However, if complications get serious enough other parts of the body will be affected. In type 2 diabetes, the body's cells have become resistant to insulin, which is a hormone produced by the pancreas that allows cells to use glucose from the blood- your body's energy it needs to function. When someone is 'type 2', the food that person is eating is not able to fuel them, regardless of caloric content. Glucose is commonly called "blood sugar". It's a type of sugar that is processed and then transported via the circulatory system to your cells where it's needed. With type 1 diabetes (which used to be called "juvenile diabetes"), the pancreas does not produce any/enough insulin for some reason or another, generally because of autoimmune or other damage. [For me personally, I was diagnosed as an adult and had to have it confirmed as type 1 due to the presence of autoimmune antibodies, also apparently my pancreas hadn't quite given up at that point.] As we've seen before, insulin allows your body to use the food you are putting into it. As a double whammy, you can have type 1 with resistance, so not only is your body not producing any/enough insulin, what's there can't be used properly. [RIP Spider who has this] So to explain the effects, think about what happens when you're literally starving. Now imagine that's happening no matter how much you eat. Your body may go into starvation mode and store fat. This can be misleading, which when combined with fatphobia has people concluding that "well, you have diabetes because you're fat, duh". Heck, I have/had diabetic relatives who believed that eating too many carbs will automatically cause the condition because that's what everyone is told/assumes. Eventually, you'd starve and your body would start deteriorating as so. HOWEVER because you would have so much glucose that just sits there because it can't be used, your kidneys are going to work overtime to try and correct this- and they can't do it alone. Your liver can also suffer severe damage. That's not to mention a whole host of other complications that can occur.
So what about it? Well, obviously there are treatments. Insulin injections have existed since the 1920s. There are also medications that can help your body actually use the insulin it's being provided, be it naturally or artificially. So yes, people with diabetes are dependent on prescriptions to survive. My grandma lost a sister in childhood due to insulin treatments apparently not being available in the extremely rural area they were living in at the time. More recently, the israeli occupation has banned insulin from being distributed to Palestinians. [Insulin has also been used historically in psychiatric hospitals to force low blood sugar in psychiatric patients, but that's a whole other rabbithole about psychiatric abuse.] There are resources for the US and beyond if you or someone you know and/or love are in dire straits financially and need help with insulin or other diabetes medications/ related medical help. That's only one aspect of treatment, though. Because pain, stress, hormone changes, other medical issues, and plenty of other factors can raise your blood sugar to dangerous levels, other kinds of treatment to manage other factors may be necessary.
Now that that's out of the way, let's get to specifics. So the most common problem you're going to see mentioned is high blood sugar. We've already covered what the effects are, but what is considered high? For the most part, "high" is 200 milligrams per deciliter. My CGM (continuous glucose monitor) lists "high" as anything 181 or higher but stops giving an exact number after 350. This is why I had a good laugh that time I saw a scammer using an image of a meter reading glucose in the 120s- that's good blood sugar. If you're going to get even more specific you want your pre-breakfast blood sugar to be 80-130. So when you see an accompanying image reading in the 500s, that's extremely dangerous. That's "you're in danger of going into a coma" dangerous.
Insulin pricing? How come I'm seeing people saying they need $300? In the US, pricing cap was set to $35 somewhat recently. What this means is that per insulin pen (as far as I've experienced, the above-linked resource post should have links with better clarification) it's $35. Can't be more than that for one pen. How many doses that provides is very up in the air. It absolutely varies from person to person. I have relatives with type 2 that have to inject a dose of very long-acting insulin weekly, one has gone back and forth with daily doses on top of that. I'm type 1 and have to take one dose of long-acting nightly with injections of a short-acting insulin before every meal, with the exact dosage amounts varying per meal. Insulin is measured in units (there's probably an actual mL amount, both of mine are 100 units per mL with a 3mL pen). How many units someone needs is determined with their medical provider (or care team? When I went to 'diabetes education' after diagnosis I was set up with a "care team").
Edited:
["...pharmacies can refuse to split boxes of insulin pens depending on company/store policy. so if someone lost their insulin and needed to get a replacement because insurance wont pay for more, the pharmacy could make them get a full box of three or five pens."]
via: anon ask (thank you much!!!) So it turns out that yes, with $35 being a cap it would very much likely be for EACH pen, with 3 being $105 in this case and 5 being $175.
But at any rate, if someone is in an emergency situation in the US should be able to get an insulin pen for $35 pretty much when they get to a pharmacy [again, from edit: no, not every pharmacy]. Yes, I get that this can be difficult in some situations, but that's outside the concept of insulin prices.
If someone's blood sugar is over 500 though, they almost certainly need a hospital more than they need an insulin pen. Yes, alright, the actual real single mother on twitter who was the source of the profile images/meter images that whatever the current url for vero-og has stolen and been using for months... that was actually months ago and I'm sure she doesn't need to be told to go to the hospital right now. [That said, if you get an ask from someone and the url is a variation off of 'vero-og' that is a confirmed scammer.] And then on top of that, yes, why would you block people that can get you free or discounted insulin? If someone was offering to save your life for free or find you what you need for far less than what you were expecting to spend, why wouldn't you take it? Unless what you're actually after is money.
SO TO RECAP: Insulin does not cost $300, $350, $370, whatever someone is sending you an ask about. In the US, it is federally capped at $35 per pen, with further resources available, as well as further resources being available internationally. If you need help, please be honest about it. I promise there are people who care, you don't have to try and explain yourself- but it absolutely does not cost that much and if it did, there are ways to lower the cost by quite a bit if there aren't resources to make it free. Diabetes is a lifelong chronic condition that is not caused by "being fat" or "eating too much", it is caused by your body not functioning right and your body can starve no matter how much food you eat. Unfortunately, people have been lying on this site for months if not years claiming to have type 1 with an insulin emergency. These people cannot possibly have diabetes, or they would be well aware that they do not need hundreds of dollars to get their insulin. They are counting on you not knowing this so you will donate to them. The 'vero-og' scammer had been harassing someone who donated and threatening them with the intention of bullying more money out of the donor.
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please help my scruggly cat
Tommy, Tumblr micro-celebrity famous for featuring/being the muse for hit posts such as ‘father is…evil?’ and ‘my cat can tell when I’m sad and instinctively bites my toes’ and ‘frustrating each other is our love language’ needs a little financial support. Please consider donating to my ko-fi or buying something from my teespring store.
Tommy was diagnosed with diabetes earlier this year under dramatic circumstances that involved a week long intensive care vet stay. She has stomatitis (an inflammation of the gums and mucus membranes) that she was on steroids for and the steroids may have damaged her pancreas. Since her diagnosis we’ve had a hard time controlling her blood sugar. Her insulin dose goes up and up. The vet thinks she has a good chance of stabilizing, that diabetic cats can and do live long, healthy and happy lives. She’s only 5. Her 6th birthday is later this month. She’s fighting. She wants to live.
Each insulin vial costs $160. Her prescription cat food is $35 for a 4 pound bag. She’s also on gabapentin for her pain and neuropathy and she’ll probably need another course of antibiotics. She currently goes to the vet every two weeks and the cost of that varies immensely. Basically, she’s a much more expensive cat than she was before and the cost of living for me has risen as well. It’s not an immediate emergency but we need funds. I’m disabled, I have an autoimmune disease that attacks my colon, I have a hard time working outside of the home or even at all because my health fluctuates and my energy levels are low. I’m trying so desperately to get better but for now I’m living in my mom’s house and sponging off my loved ones and tapping into my meager savings.
I know what you’re thinking, the thing people always comment on donation posts about pets, “if you can’t afford to care for your cat, why do you still have your cat?” and as biting as that question is, I know it’s a valid one and I’ve thought about it myself. I still have her because I need her and she needs me. She’s like my soulmate animal. We met when I was 16 and she was about 4 weeks old. There was no way I could have known we’d both be struggling sick moneypits in 5 years. I’m trying to give her the best life I can and she’s trying to give me her best self. I’m her person. I’m home 24/7 so we’re so used to having each other. She brings me immense joy and I know she’s brought a lot of other people joy. If you’re one of those people, please consider giving a couple of dollars. If you can’t afford to, that’s fine. Thank you for reading anyway.
TL;DR: cat sick. I’m sick. please help.
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Bruised Knuckles and Baked Goods
Pairing: Killer!Harry x Wife!reader
Masterlist: Here
A/N: This is a little follow up to Lasagna Casserole, where your loving husband Harry is a serial killer and you have no clue, you can find that here if you haven’t read it but even if you don’t read that first you’ll be able to read this and not be missing anything. Just like the last one you won’t get any actual descriptions of Harry killing anyone, you’ll just get little glimpses of things he uses in the process✨
TW: Harry is a serial killer, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, language, slight controlling behavior.
Summary: You asked Harry to stop by the store on his way home because you need to start baking cookies for your neighborhood’s fall festival but you have no idea that he also made a pit stop somewhere else resulting in him coming home late and with some damage done to his hands✨
Harry feels himself instantly start to relax as he pulls into the driveway, the muscles in his shoulders and neck don’t seem to ache as much as they did just a few minutes ago when he catches a glimpse of the light from the lamp on the end table in living room peeking through the curtains letting him know you’re still awake. It’s as if he can finally let out the breath he feels like he’s been holding all night as he puts the car in park before shutting it off, he allows himself a moment to finally look at his hands as they grip the steering wheel.
He’s been avoiding actually looking at them the whole drive home because he hasn’t exactly come to terms with what he’s done quite yet. It’s not that he regrets it or anything but Harry normally isn’t one to do things without a well thought out plan and the help of his longtime partner in crime Mitch, who he knows won’t be happy when he finds out what Harry did and how he went about doing it.
His knuckles on his left hand are red and already starting to bruise while a few have minor cuts on them while his right hand seems to be the one with the most damage, being the one he favors when opting to use his fists as his weapon of choice. There’s a small gash that he managed to get to stop bleeding but he knows it’ll need to get cleaned and bandaged while the skin on his knuckles is red and raw, it’s more stiff and he can already tell it’s going to be a bit swollen and sore tomorrow but nothing he can’t handle. He lifts his hands from the steering wheel and flexes them a few times as a slight smirk fights to form on his face as his mind starts to replay a moment from the evening, but Harry quickly shakes his head not allowing himself to relive it, not yet at least.
Right now all he wants or really needs to do is grab the bag from the passenger seat and head inside so he can see you, the person who makes all the things he’s done during the day or the night in this case seem so unimportant the moment you smile at him because for Harry making you happy will always be the most important thing he ever does. Tonight that meant him stopping at the store on his way home for some eggs and a bag of sugar, does Harry know what you need these things for at eight at night? No, but you’re his wife and also the love of his life so he doesn’t really care about the reason, he just said okay and now here he is with a plastic bag in his hand as he walks through the front door.
“Baby?” He calls out as he drops his keys in the little bowl on the table by the door while he slips his boots off leaving them next to your heels he saw you put on to wear to work this morning. “Sweetheart?” He says as he looks in the living room but just finds an empty couch making him raise an eyebrow as he stands there and takes in just how silent the house sounds.
Harry heads towards the kitchen so he can place the eggs in the fridge and put the sugar on the counter before he continues his search for you. He places a hand on his hip as his other rests on top of the kitchen table, he stands there a moment and just listens, he smiles when he hears the faint sound of humming coming from down the hall. Harry now knows exactly where you’re at and when he looks at his watch on his wrist he can take a guess at what you’re doing, he heads down the hall and stops just a few steps away from the master bedroom where you have the door ajar letting him get the smallest glimpse of you from where he’s standing in the hallway. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed quietly singing to yourself and Harry knows by the way you’re rubbing your hands together that you’re in the middle of applying your lotion, a nightly routine that if he was home when he was suppose to be you’d let him help you with because he loves any excuse to get to touch you.
“Hey baby.” His voice is sweet and not too loud so that it doesn’t startle you as he opens the bedroom door and takes a step inside. He smiles at the grin that takes over your face when your eyes find his, before you can get off the bed Harry is crossing the room and gently placing a hand on the side of your face and giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.
“You’re late.” You mumble when Harry tries to pull away but you quickly reach up and grab onto his shirt pulling him back to you for another kiss.
“Sorry sweetheart.” He says between little pecks to your lips before you finally let him pull away enough so he can look at you, dropping his hand from the side of your face. “I got-”
“What happened?” Harry watches the smile fall from your face as he hears the immediate change in your voice, it’s no longer playful and flirty but now it’s laced with worry and confusion as you take his left hand in both of yours.
“Forgot my gloves at home.” It’s not a complete lie so Harry doesn’t feel as bad as he should when the words effortlessly slip out of his mouth while you tenderly run your soft fingers over the bruised knuckles of his hand.
“This is from the gym?” You question with a quirked brow because while you know your husband enjoys a good and often intense workout the damage to his hand seems a little extreme even for him.
“I had some issues I needed to work out.” He knows you won’t push for more details when he gives you his explanation, you know how he is and that sometimes Harry prefers to talk to a punching bag than to anyone else about what’s bothering him. Harry knows it’s wrong, to use this type of thing against you so he’ll make sure that later tonight when the two of you are in bed and he has you pulled tightly to his chest to tell you a little something that’s been bothering him, something that’ll make you feel as if he’s letting you in on why he felt the need to bust his knuckles up on a punching bag at the gym so that you’ll feel a bit better and not want to bring it up again.
“Let’s get you fixed up.” You say with a small smile as you look up at him and find he’s already looking at you with what can only be described as a look of pure love on his face.
“I don’t deserve you.” You playfully roll your eyes at his words and Harry has to act like he’s just being cute as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead but he means it, he knows he doesn’t deserve you but he also knows he’s far too selfish to ever let you go. “I got your eggs and sugar by the way love. I put them in the kitchen.” He tells you as he takes a step back allowing you to stand up off the bed.
“Oh perfect I need to start making the cookies for the bake sale at the fall festival this weekend-did you remember to tell Mitch about it this time? You know he loves the pumpkin carving contest and he didn’t get to come last year because-”
“Because I got the dates mixed up.” He finishes your sentence for you with a chuckle as he follows you into the master bathroom, the real reason Mitch didn’t get to come last year was because he was busy digging two holes in the middle of the woods two hours away but you didn’t need to know that.
“So did you tell him? Is he going to come?” Harry adores how excited you get over things like the neighborhood’s fall festival, you have a certain sparkle in your eyes as you turn to look at him while you motion for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.
“Baby…” Harry doesn’t miss the way you completely ignore him as you just turn around and head to grab the first aide kit under Harry’s sink, he knows there’s something you’re not telling him about why you’re so curious if his long haired bestfriend will be attending the festival or not.
“I’m thinking about making chocolate chip cookies for the bake sale but is that too boring?” You ask once you’re standing in front of Harry with the first aide kit placed next to his thigh on the edge of the tub. You gently take his right hand in yours and he watches the way you pout at the sight of the damage he’s done to himself. “Or maybe snickerdoodle? That’s a very fall sort of cookie isn’t it?” Harry gives you a smile when you look at him, he knows you want to say something about the gash and ask how could he have gotten that from a punching bag but instead you just keep going on about cookies.
“It looks worst than it actually is.” He whispers taking your mind off of cookies for a moment as you begin cleaning his knuckles with an alcohol wipe. You just give him a look that makes him let out a chuckle because it’s obvious you don’t believe him. “I think Mitch likes snickerdoodle cookies.” You smile at this bit of information making Harry happy that he’s able to slightly distract you from the fact he doesn’t even flinch when you begin applying some cream to his knuckles so the open gashes don’t get infected.
“Really? Oh that’ll be perfect because Niall-” You stop mid sentence when Harry’s hand slightly tenses as the name of your coworker tumbles out of your mouth. “I’m sorry honey I’m almost done.” Your voice matches the softness of your touches as you begin to bandage his hand, Harry is aware you think his tenseness is due to the pain in his hands but in reality it’s because he has put the pieces together of why you want Mitch to attend the festival this weekend.
“Niall will be there? He doesn’t even live in this neighborhood.” He watches your brows pinch together as you focus on where your hands are gently pressing over his knuckles making the bandages stick in place.
“Mitch doesn’t either.” You state matter of factly making Harry just raise a shoulder in a shrug as a smile creeps onto his face.
“Is my lovely wife trying to set my best mate up with the nosey bloke she shares a cubical with?” You shoot him a playful glare as you reach over and close the first aide kit after putting the left over bandages inside. “Because if she is then maybe she’d like to know that Mitch isn’t really looking for a relationship at the moment.” He adds as he looks over as you grab the kit to put it back under the sink but Harry just takes it from your hands and places it back down next to him so he can take your hands in his, he internally groans at how he can’t really feel how soft your hands are in his due to the way you wrapped his knuckles.
“You weren’t looking for anything serious when we met either remember?” You ask as you let Harry place your hands on his shoulders while his grab hold of your hips as you stand between his legs. “You didn’t even want to go on a date with me at first because you were so against being in a relationship.” You tease as Harry just looks up at you with a smile as you take one of your hands and brush some hair out of his face making him lean into your touch when you leave your hand holding the side of his face.
“You’ve got it all wrong baby.” You raise an eyebrow making Harry just turn his head so he can place a kiss to the inside of your hand that you have on his face. “It wasn’t that I was against being in a relationship. It was the fact I just knew the moment I went on one date with you I’d never want to be without you. So I was just really fucking nervous. I didn’t want to mess it all up.” He admits making your eyes go a bit glassy at his sweet words, something Harry’s always been good at is telling you exactly how he feels about you no matter how sappy or corny it makes him sound.
“I can’t imagine you being nervous because of me.” Harry just laughs as he pulls you closer to him while your hand goes from the side of his face back to his shoulder.
“You still make me nervous sweetheart.” His hands give your hips a little squeeze as you look down at him. “You don’t even know how often I just find myself staring at you wondering how the hell I ended up being the one you wanted to spend your life with.” Harry brings one of his hands up to gently cup your face, the bandages feeling a little rough against your skin but not uncomfortable. “But I’m so happy you picked me because I can’t imagine loving anyone else but you.” You blink a few times to try to hold back the tears that want to fall as Harry pulls your face down towards his making your lips to meet.
“You’re so rude.” You mumble as you pull away and Harry hears you sniffle as you bring your hands up and wipe under your eyes to catch the tears before they can make it down your cheeks. “Making me cry after I just bandaged your hands for you.” Harry rubs his thumb over your cheek as you let out a sigh.
“M’sorry baby.”
“It’s okay I still love you.”
“That’s good because I’d be a bit of a wreck if you didn’t.”
“But to make it up to me you can just make sure Mitch and Niall meet on Saturday-oh and be nice to Niall please. He’s a nice guy and the two of you have a lot in common.” Harry just nods making you give him a smile that makes the thought of having to play nice with your extremely talkative and slightly annoying coworker worth it but if Harry’s being honest with himself he knows he would do anything you ask of him if it would make you even the tiniest bit happy.
“Thank you. I’ll go heat up your dinner while you take a shower.” With that you lean down and place a kiss to Harry’s cheek as he slides his hand away from your face and places it in his lap, he gives your hip one last squeeze before he lets you go so you can turn around and head out of the bathroom.
“Mitch is going to be so thrilled.” He whispers to himself with a laugh once he knows you’re out of the bedroom and headed down the hall towards the kitchen as he runs a hand through his hair.
“She wants me to meet who?” Mitch asks with a raised brow as he looks at Harry who is currently digging around in his duffle bag for a roll of duct tape.
“Niall her cubical mate at work he’s going to be at the fall festival this Saturday and she figured that would be a good place to-”
“I don’t want to.” Mitch interjects as he adjusts the fit of the gloves on his hands, Harry roll his eyes at how whiny his bestfriend’s voice is over the subject of meeting someone new.
“That’s cool but I also didn’t ask if you wanted to or not.” Harry states as he finally finds the tape, he grabs it and hands it to Mitch before zipping his duffle bag closed. “It’s not like you have to date him just meet him and don’t be a dick about it.” He explains while closing his trunk so he can begin putting his gloves on.
“But I don’t want to meet-what the fuck happened to your hands?” Harry looks over at Mitch whose eyes are glued to the bandages on his knuckles. “Did you get into a fight?” He asks as he watches Harry put a glove on his right hand, slightly struggling to get the leather to fit properly over the bandages.
“No.” Mitch’s hands fall to his sides in a huff as he glares at Harry. “He never got the chance to hit me back.” He gives Mitch a quick glance to see his reaction and as he suspected he’s not happy because Harry has a feeling his friend knows exactly who it was that gave Harry the bruised knuckles.
“It was Todd wasn’t it? You beat the shit out of him by yourself? We had a plan Harry why didn’t you just-”
“I saw his car in the parking lot of a bar on the way home from the store and I just-I reacted in a way I shouldn’t have but I don’t regret it. I know we had a plan but now it’s dealt with and we can move on.” Mitch’s eyes go wide as the thoughts of how exactly Harry dealt with Todd begin to swirl around in his head. “Relax I didn’t kill him okay? I just maybe broke a bone or two.” He explains making Mitch let out a sigh as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“You beat him up in a bar parking lot and broke a few bones? Jesus man that’s not cool what if someone saw you?”
“No one saw me besides Todd and he won’t say anything.”
“He saw you? Like your face?”
“Yes but it’s fine.”
“Harry this is very far from fine. He could have you arrested for assault and you’re just walking around with the evidence on your hands Mr. Forensic Files.” Harry shoots Mitch a hard glare as he finishes putting his gloves on but Mitch just stands there and glares at him right back because this isn’t how the two of them go about doing things, they have plans for a reason and it’s to avoid possible issues like being seen and the fact Harry is so relaxed about the whole thing isn’t sitting right with Mitch at all.
“Todd knows it was me who broke his jaw and probably a few ribs last night and he knows why. Now I know you think he could go to the police and get me arrested but he won’t because when I pulled him out of his car he wasn’t alone and who he was with was someone you have to pay to get the privilege to hang out with if you get what I’m saying.” Harry takes a step towards Mitch as he explains why he’s not worried about Todd and places a hand on his shoulder so he can give it a not so gentle squeeze.
“You broke his jaw?” Mitch asks making Harry just shrug as he releases his hold on Mitch’s shoulder.
“Well yeah what else was I supposed to do? I wasn’t going to just cut out his tongue in a bar parking lot and get blood all over the place.” Mitch lets out a chuckle as Harry bends down to grab the backpack by Mitch’s feet. “Besides he also thinks we work with computers in some company’s basement for their I.T department and a guy like Todd isn’t about to let anyone think he got his shit rocked by a computer nerd.” He states with a smirk as he places a strap of the backpack over his shoulder, Mitch can’t help but just stare at Harry for a moment before he looks behind him at the house of the man they are about to go deal with.
“And this was all because he said your wife’s casserole was dry?” Harry ignores the teasing tone of Mitch’s voice as he asks the question while the two of them head up the driveway to the man’s house.
“Yeah so imagine what I’d do to you if you try to tell her no you’re not interested in meeting Niall or you don’t want to come to the festival this weekend.” Mitch rolls his eyes as the empty threat because he knows Harry wouldn’t ever lay a hand on him unless it was absolutely necessary. “She’s making snickerdoodle cookies for the bake sale but if you agree to meeting Niall I’ll have her give you some for free.” Harry knows that the long haired man standing behind him has very few weaknesses but one of them is baked goods especially ones you make.
“Fucking asshole.” Mitch mumbles as he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail right as they make it to the front door. “Better be at least a dozen and this Niall dude better not be a douche.”
“I hear he’s quite nice and uh what’s the word? Oh a bit chatty.”
“I hate you.”
“But you love her so you’ll eat your cookies and be nice.” Is all Harry says before he knocks on the door signaling that their conversation is over and they are about to start their work so they need to be focused on the task at hand, which just so happens to be ending the life of the man who is about the answer the door.
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles series#harry styles angst#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles drabble#harry styles and Mitch Rowland#harry styles x reader#Harry styles x wife!reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#killer!Harry x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles reader insert#Harry styles fanfic#one direction fanfiction#one direction imagine#my little lanky baby#harry styles#niall horan#my little irish marshmallow
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I recently read that blood can hypothetically be used in Baking as a substitute for eggs and this obviously reminded me of toh bc it's been over a year and that show still lives in my frontal lobe lmao
Like, when I first heard Lilith talking about making all those blood based recipes w Gwendolyn I thought "yeah that checks out it's the boiling isles where people eat spiders and eyeballs why wouldn't they cook with blood too"
But now I'm actually thinking it could be deeper than that?
Griffin eggs are expensive, they're not cheap to keep in the house and they're an awkward size too, once you crack one open, you can't exactly use part of it and then store the rest for later, at least not easily, and even so it would spoil quickly. (This I know from experience due to some expiriments in curing egg yolks lol)
Spiders have been mentioned to give milk, and it's likely that spider eggs are also sold, probably pretty damn cheap in bulk too, but spider eggs are more similar to fish roe, and wouldn't be any good for baking.
So, what do you do if you're from a poor or lower income household and want to make a batch of cookies or maybe a cake for your kid's birthday?
You use blood. A cheap, easy to come by staple in any market, available in all varieties from fruit blood to livestock, can be kept in a frozen until you need it, and full of nutrients and similar enough in the makeup of it's proteins to be used as a substitute for eggs.
And magic has been able to keep food frozen for hundreds of generations. Only wealthier individuals might know a good baking recipe involving eggs, but every common witch and their mother has some old box or notebook tucked away in the kitchen containing some faded recipe in great great grandma Meabh's handwriting for a nice blood velvet cake or blood sugar cookie.
In summery I think that in the owl house universe baking with blood is actually a charming practice rooted in multigenerational witch culture and a staple of hard times.
The only reason we wouldn't see Eda cooking with blood, naturally, would be due to Luz's dietary restrictions forcing her to go the much more expensive route but I bet king has all sorts of cute childhood memories of Eda baking those old family recipes from her own childhood and the smell of bloody sausages for breakfast and fango-blood bread on a rainy day
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Track your health records in one place - Download the App now.
#vitals#health records#medugo#health vitals#track your vitals#share health records to doctor#download app#download medugo app#track your sugar level reading#track your fever#track your pulse#track your menstrual cycle#track your blood pressure#maintain health record#store blood report#store prescription#store vaccination details#store health records
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I'm pretty sure everyone remembers how Dante's clock has been moving over time. BUT, there is now an identifiable pattern to its movements, and its associated with the development of the sinners!
During Cantos 1-3, Dante's role in events is one of a passive observer. Gregor, Rodion, and Sinclair all made it through their cantos without much (if any) advice from Dante, the events of which mostly served to establish where they stood as characters/why they behave in the ways that they do.
Canto 4 was where this formula started to change. Yi Sang needed more out of Dante than the previous sinners; There was a Big Issue from his past that was controlling his future (namely, his entrapment in the past caused by the Hot Mess Involving T-Corp And The Mirror), forcing Dante to take on the role of Emotional Support Clockhead to guide him through the Canto. And at the end of the Canto, two things happened:
Vergilius commented on "the look on [Dante's] face"...
... and the clock moved for the first time.
The next 2 Cantos maintained this level of involvement from Dante: Ishmael needed Dante to help guide her away from her self-destructive obsession (I.E, to find "[her] compass [which] was swallowed by the sea" and choose to start "piercing through the rope that strangled [Captain Ahab] and [Ishmael]", freeing her to move toward the future), and Heathcliff needed Dante to help guide him through effectively communicating how much he loved Catherine/engaging in healthy relationship dynamics. (Seriously: the real antagonist of Canto 6 is communication issues.)
Effectively: Cantos 1, 2, and 3 had Dante doing the equivalent of talking with their respective Sinners as they drove their car down an empty street. Pretty casual, nothing major happened. Cantos 4, 5 and 6 required Dante to give directions, help them figure out where they got lost, convince them to pull over, calm down, and eat SOMETHING to get their blood sugar up before continuing toward their destination. More work, but these Sinners received greater rewards.
With Canto 7, the car was inside an IKEA.
Sinclair had to get the doors open. Faust had to find the car, awkwardly wedged in one of the shortcuts between display sections. Gregor, Rodion, Ishmael, Yi Sang, and Heathcliff had to pull Sancho out of the bunk bed in a completely different section of the store, with Ryoshu and Outis bringing their spoils from the marvelously-priced IKEA food court. Hong Lu had to help guide Sancho through getting the car out of the place it was awkwardly wedged, and Mersault held back the crowd. Dante's task wasn't just emotional support, but guidance. Sancho/Don Quixote needed someone to reassure her that there was a way forward, a something worth pursuing. And Dante did wonderfully.
So, is it a surprise that this canto is where the clock moved again?
Don Quixote (Who, as we learned in this canto, is a bloodfiend, like Vergilius) commented on Dante's expression.
And the clock moved.
BUT BETWEEN THESE TWO EVENTS, DANTE MADE THE CHOICE TO SMILE. "like Don Quixote asked me to".
THEREFORE, it is my conclusion that, between the commentary of lu-is-not-okay on Hong Lu's impending mental breakdown (SPECIFICALLY this post, which is the reason for my diatribe) AND the existence of this pattern of increasingly intensive Sinner rehabilitation efforts, Canto 8 will be the mental health equivalent of trying to get Hong Lu off of the car, which is precariously balanced upside down on a fountain, on the third floor of a shopping mall, while being chased by mall security (read: his family).
And it's going to be awesome.
#limbus company#limbus theory#canto 7 spoilers#canto 8 theories#I have no clue why bloodfiends were the ones to comment on Dante"s face both times#But I'm noting it anyway#Also I am so tempted to meme this mental image now
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I want to see how Rafe would react to reader having a habit of skipping meals. Like he asks her what she ate today and she just says Starbucks or something… idk I feel like he would be suuuper protective abt it
╰┈➤ skipping meals w protective!rafe (blurb)
warnings: sensitive topics such as restricted eating, light swearing, talks of anxiety. warning! rather in-depth description of y/n skipping meals, swapping meals for beverages etc, please read at your own discretion.
summary: y/n opens up to rafe about her trouble with maintaining a healthy diet.
“hi angel..” he cooed as she slid into the passenger seat, having waited outside her work for him to pick her up. she smiled sweetly, sucking in a harsh breath as she took in his beauty. she knew rafe had a busy day of meetings, as he’d told her that morning, hence why he was suited and booted, determined to make a good impression on some buyers.
“you have a good day at work?” he queried, glancing at her as he pulled out of his parking space. “it was okay, a bit busy for a tuesday..” she hummed, resting her head against the seat, watching the ocean as they drove along the coast. turning to face him, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking it affectionately.
“what about you?” she asked, struggling to find a smooth rhythm against his skin while her hand trembled slightly, alerting her to her low blood sugar. “yeah it was good baby, are you okay?” he questioned, his brows furrowing slightly. “i’m fine, what do you mean?”
“you’re shaking, have you eaten today?” he mumbled, placing a reassuring hand on her thigh. y/n bowed her head slightly as she fidgeted in the seat next to him, considering a subject change.
“i’ve had a coffee..” she muttered, anticipating a lecture. “one coffee isn’t food baby, you need food” he sighed, squeezing her leg.
she diverted her gaze to the road, her brows furrowing as they took the wrong exit, now going the opposite way to his house. “where are you going?” she queried, watching as they passed signposts for a nearby store.
“we’re going to the store angel, gonna get you something to eat, m’kay?” he offered, somewhat sternly, letting her know he was serious.
an empty feeling pooled in her stomach as the words left his mouth, her foot now tapping against the footwell anxiously. “rafe i’m not hungry” she whined, shooting him a pleading look.
“it doesn’t have to be a meal, even just a little snack, or an apple or something. you can’t not eat anything all day sweetheart, you’ll get sick” he cooed, motioning with his hand as he spoke. sighing, she fell back against the seat with a slight huff, turning her face away from him.
“if you promise to get something to eat, even just something small, i’ll take you to starbucks on the way home, yeah?” he suggested, taking the keys out of the ignition before turning to face her fully.
her eyes lit up slightly at the offer, suddenly contemplating it heavily. “can it be an iced coffee?” she giggled, placing a gentle hand on his knee.
nodding, his lip curled upwards. “if that’s what you want baby, but you gotta get a snack first, alright?”
“m’kay”
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#outer banks#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafecameron#rafe obx#dom!rafe#soft!rafe cameron#soft!dom#soft!dom rafe#soft!rafecameron#soft!rafe#protective!rafe#protective!rafe cameron#protective!rafecameron#dealer!rafe cameron#dealer!rafecameron#dealer!rafe#dom!rafe cameron#bf!rafe#bf!rafe cameron#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader
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𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 3
MINORS DNI 18+ FIC
You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.
Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.
You’re still a virgin.
You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.
DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”
College was for new experiences after all.
CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)
TAG: @slut4oscarissac23 @iamtheprincess227 @haveclayeveryday @sphynxfoxslut69 @junehasnotbeenfound
PART 1 - PART 2 - CHAPTER 1
It had been almost two months since Web first messaged you. As it turned out, you liked not being the caretaker for once. Considering you grew up the eldest of your six siblings, you were the second mom, the babysitter, the caretaker .
Being the eldest daughter was a curse.
You still had embarrassing flashbacks while laying in your bed of your father screaming at you over getting a B in AP physics in your junior year of highschool.
You liked not being in charge. No responsibility, no obligation, no pressure. Web gave that to you.
He’d become a friend as much as he was a dominant. You found yourself asking him about mundane things, restaurants he liked or opinions on your going-out clothing.
He never really broke character, or, well - what you assumed was a character. Suave, domineering with a hint of playful possessiveness... you weren’t entirely sure if you were ready to sacrifice as much clothing as he wanted to rip off you.
Clothes were expensive and you worked too hard to let him rip apart your nice lingerie.
Still, you weren't entirely opposed to the idea of him tearing apart clothes that he bought you. You thought about suggesting it once, but chickened out as he'd already spent a decent amount on you. Asking for more felt selfish, and you would not reduce yourself to being anyone's sugar baby.
(Even if the thought did tempt you, sometimes.)
He had plans for you - or so he said. You got the hint that he enjoyed that you were new and that he was the one ‘teaching you the ropes’, but he took it seriously. He made you buy an ebook and learn about your nerves and blood flow.
He didn’t want you to risk nerve damage and went out of his way to ensure you knew to see the signs.
You had even suggested buying your own rope and testing some self ties, but Web refused. Worried that you’d mess something up and end up losing a limb, he expressly forbade any experimentation that you’d otherwise have tried.
He hadn’t really revealed much of himself other than he traveled occasionally for work. You had about a dozen different photos in your telegram media chat of him in different hotel bedrooms, but he never told you why he was traveling - just that he was.
You still hadn’t gotten an answer out of him of what he did for work. He was more active when he was traveling - during the week he practically disappeared but when he was traveling, you’d get a good extra half an hour or so to chat with him. You got used to the routine and you may or may not have adjusted your sleep schedule to spend the most time with him.
Your roommates were beginning to notice, though. It was obvious, with how you started taking much better care of yourself. You dressed up more - did your makeup regularly, you always walked to work…
You began cooking, for god’s sake, breaking out your grandmother’s precious recipes and putting them to use.
You tried to not think about the improvement of your mental health hinged on a 36 year old man bossing you around and making you fuck yourself silly on a toy he bought you.
Aurora had dubbed you ‘Dorm Mom’ despite the fact that the five of you didn’t live in a dorm. Technically your house was a duplex that was converted to one house for college student rentals.
He hasn’t asked you to use the lovense yet. It was pink and had a weird wider clamp bit you assumed held it in place. You hadn’t tried to put it on, remembering Web’s words.
“No using them without my permission, understood?”
So, obviously, you didn’t. You didn’t expect yourself to be so rule compliant - you’d convinced yourself you’d be a brat or sassy like a kitten. Now you just fantasized about sitting between Web’s legs as he called you a good pet.
You still hadn’t decided what you were - dog, kitten, bunny? No clue - so he just started calling you pet. It was kind of hard to roleplay being nonverbal online. You had sent him a few videos now - happy to take it nice and slow.
He made it clear he was comfortable with that. He was always direct and clear with you. You found yourself adoring his communication skills and learning a thing or two. It was refreshing compared to your singular previous relationship - he… he was sure a teenager.
Clear commands were comforting in an odd way, even if said commands were some of the filthiest things you've ever had sent to you. The commands he gave were easy to understand and impossible to fuck up without distinctly trying.
He made you nervous, but that was from anticipation, not from anxiety of making yourself look like a total idiot.
He'd scold you and punish you if you'd call yourself that anyways, and your hand still hurt from the first round of lines he'd made you write in a notebook he also made you go out and get. Punishments long distance were difficult, but that was a surefire way you wouldn't forget his instructions and rules anytime soon.
It was a Thursday night - Web had told you he’d be around at 9pm, so you’d been twiddling your thumbs agonizing over the wait as you stared at the clock. There were a hundred things you could be doing to pass the time, but none of them seemed particularly fun against the rising concoction of excitement and dread churning in your belly. Instead, you figured you’d clean your room - the stage in which you’d male your grand debut.
It was hardly the first time he had seen you, of course, but it would be the first time he’d see you live. You remembered how the first video you sent accidentally included the messy pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom that you had forgotten about for an embarrassingly long time. He must have thought you a slob. You nearly cried a day after sending it when you scrolled through your conversation and saw it in the thumbnail.
Not again. No, your room would be fucking spotless , if you had anything to say about it.
First thing first, the hamper. Heaving the pile into your lattice-work bin, you trucked it over to the laundry room, the half-faded writing on its handle reading your name to make sure no one accidentally swapped clothes.
Next thing was vacuuming, and not just turning on the communal roomba and letting it wander for a few minutes in your room like the last time you ‘cleaned’. Your eyes lingered on the pink disc affectionately dubbed ‘Kirby’ by the household. Not this time, old friend.
You were a mostly clean person. Mostly. Maybe it was time to get back on your anti-depressants, you mused, picking up another glass to bring to the kitchen.
After a half hour you felt pretty satisfied, your room looking better than it had in… Probably since a week after you moved in. Maybe you were messy?
The thought was interrupted by the click of a door closing in the living room. You winced. No, this could not be happening. They were - were supposed to be out tonight! Didn’t they all have a show to be at?
You peeked your head out your door to spy who had come in, feeling a tad like a ninja without the skills or cool costume or, really, anything that would make you a ninja.
It was Aurora - huffing as she made her way inside. As always, the strawberry blonde had that characteristic coloring, all colorful care-bear themed clothing and highwaisted jeans, a literal rainbow shaped into a person and set loose to run wild. She was scowling, but that quickly evaporated when her brown eyes met yours.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me tonight. The drag show ended early because one of the Queens made one too many jokes about cops and I guess some guy had a brother that was one.” She rolled her eyes, “‘Throwing bricks is assault’, he said. ‘Yeah that’s the point’, the Queen replied. You know how it is.”
“The others are bar hopping, but I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning so I have to turn in soon. Don’t mind me if you uh.. Had something special planned with all of us out, wink wink,” she said while literally winking. You wished you exploded on the spot.
“S-Something special? No-no, why would you think that?” you stammered, stepping out from your bedroom, hands growing clammy and wet.
“Because it's not often you have the apartment to yourself. You don’t maybe.. Have a boyfriend coming over or something?” She leaned forward, lips curling into a grin as she leaned closer.
“ NO, ” you replied firmly, definitely too firm. It wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t exactly a boyfriend and he wasn’t coming over either.
You were just going to get naked in front of him on camera and masturbate.
Now you just had to do that with your roommate a few doors down.
This was fine.
Everything was fine.
(everything was definitely not fine, and you could feel yourself getting paler, a bit lightheaded.)
“Suuuuure you don’t. If I hear knocking on the door - or in your room - I’ll just turn up my laptop while I watch netflix.” She hummed to herself, waltzing over to the fridge to grab a snack before she disappeared into her equally brightly colored bedroom.
This… complicated things, but of all the people to be home while this happened, you supposed Aurora was the least bad. She was a heavy sleeper and she wore earbuds when she watched stuff in her room, so it was possible that she wouldn’t notice at all.
Your eyes darted to the clock as she left, checking the time. It was past time. You had been so busy worrying that you -
Shit.
Rushing back to your bedroom, you snagged a towel on the way there, spreading it on the floor as you moved in. There was a risk of you needing it later, and you really, really wanted to be prepared.
Taking a deep breath, you settled, laptop in hand, sitting cross legged on the towel. You opened your laptop, setting it down in front of you and taking a big, deep breath, losing any of the composure you’d gained all at once as you saw the notification waiting.
9:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you free, pet?”
“ I am. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:18 PM
9:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ve been thinking about the video you sent me a few days ago.”
“ Oh? I just did what you asked, Sir. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:19 PM
9:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That you did, and you looked so nice squirming with those clamps on. You have very beautiful breasts, Fawn. Are you enjoying all the toys I provided you? Which is your favorite?”
“ Thank you. I am, but I don’t think I have a favorite yet. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:19 PM
9:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “How are you adjusting to the dildo? Can you take it completely to the flare yet?”
“ Same as last photo I shared, so not quite. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:19 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “As much as I’d like to hilt myself in you when we meet, I understand that’s not always realistic. Don’t feel too bad if you reach your limit. If you do, however, I’ll need to get you something bigger to practice on.”
“ I’m happy to keep trying with encouragement. :p ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Aside from praise, is there something I can offer as a reward?”
“ Pics, maybe. I do quite like the praise. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Alright, how about this: You get a picture for every inch you can manage starting at four. That’s twp potential pictures total if you reach all six.”
“ I like that. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “How would you like to show me your progress live?”
“ I can try another video, I wish we could just facetime or something. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight, actually.”
“ Oh? ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Zoom. I will be muted and you still won’t see my face.”
“ Can I ask why? ” - Fawnteeth - 9:20 PM
9:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Why do you wear your mask?”
“ Because I’m a college aged woman posting nudes on the internet. Point taken, I guess. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:21 PM
9:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “We all have our reasons. Would you like to or not?”
“ Yes, sir. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:21 PM
9:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. Always so polite.”
“ I try. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:21 PM
9:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It saves me some time disciplining it into you.”
“ We’ll see, I like the idea of being a brat, remember? Just hard to do across the web. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:22 PM
9:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ll try not to scare you too much the first time I show you the crop then.”
“ So scary :p. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:22 PM
9:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let’s see what you think when you’re crying and you can’t sit for the next three days.”
“ We’ll just have to see. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:22 PM
9:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Get your lube, lovense and dildo. Find somewhere comfortable where you won’t be interrupted. Join when you’re ready: [Zoom code]”
“ Okay, can you see me?. ” - Fawnteeth - 9:30 PM
9:30 PM - WebRigger2099 - “There’s my pet. Yes, I see you beautiful.”
Web’s video flashed on, bare enough to give you a generous view of his muscular frame, sculpted torso painting him like some god in human form. A pair of gray boxer-briefs were all that he wore on his bottom half, the bulge of his flaccid penis intimidatingly large. The man was a shower, not a grower. Even soft as it was now, it strained against the fabric and ran down his leg, head nearly threatening to peek out from the leg-holes.
It was unfair how hot he was.
As always, the frame cut off before you could see his chin. Just what could a man like this have to hide, truly? So mysterious.
You found yourself staring for a moment, hunched over in your baggy t-shirt and underwear. All the confidence evaporated from your body - you didn’t realize he would have his feed on.
You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, struggling with the camera of your laptop.
“Can you hear me?” you asked.
The man leaned forward, the barest hint of his chin coming into frame only to be obscured by a simple medical mask. His long fingers typed something out and a moment later his message pinged into existence.
9:30 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I can.”
Your eyes rested firmly on the mask for a moment, your brow raised.
“Same idea, but mine is easier to breathe in.” You pointed at your own mask, black cloth and far more comfortable.
It was technically made to be worn over a medical mask, after all. You were trying so hard to play it cool, as if you couldn’t feel sweat sticking your hair to the back of your neck. You sit up and back far enough you’re in view of the camera but you can still see his text.
9:30 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Here I thought you might ask me where I got the idea from. I hope you don’t have a copyright.”
You grinned under your mask, eyes scrunching. “I don’t. I-I’m glad you got the idea from me.” Flinching at the stutter, you glanced around the room, one of your hands brushing over your mask and down your neck awkwardly.
9:31 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Nervous, Fawn? It’s normal to be. This is your first time doing something like this, isn’t it?”
Sat there, you stalled, before nodding as physically hard as you could - you didn’t want to stutter again. Your hands eventually grabbed at the edge of your shirt and twisted it together, revealing a hint of your stomach.
9:31 PM - WebRigger2099 - “We can go slow, pet. Remember our safety tools. Shall we test them?”
“I- yeah. Sorry. I want to. Just… It feels more real, ” you admitted.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “This will make it easier when I meet you in person. A stepping stone. I want you to feel comfortable. Safe.”
You know he couldn’t see you blush, but you sure felt your face warm, your eyes drifting over his hands as they disappeared to type.
“I know. I trust you,” you finally spoke, voice a bit more sure.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Color check. How are you feeling?”
“Green,” you answered, hands moving to finally wrench your top over your body, tossing it… somewhere.
Idly, your gaze brushed over your hips, fingers touching the half-faded marks that you had written on yourself the week before at Web’s instruction.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Still not fully faded, I see. Good thing it was a compliment and not something else.”
“What would something else be?” you asked, again cringing at your stumbling of words.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Some pets prefer degradation. ‘Whore’, ‘Slut’, ‘Stupid Bitch’. You seem like the type that works on praise.”
Your brows furrowed, “What do you prefer?”
Belatedly, you realized that it was probably a terrible idea to ask. You knew you’d try desperately to enjoy whatever he liked.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Depends on my mood, and how bratty they’ve been. You’re a good girl, aren’t you Fawn? Stay like that and we’ll keep doing praise.”
Slowly, Web reached down to his thigh, thick-veined hand sliding across the bulge of his member which had slowly begun to swell and harden.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’ve barely done anything and you’ve already started to get me hard. Your voice is beautiful, Fawn.”
You swore you felt your heart skip in your chest, shifting on your knees almost uncomfortably. You felt the urge to sit up straighter - it was hard to tell if it was to hide the rolls on your stomach or because you felt lifted by his compliment.
He was almost inhumanly attractive. You swore a man like him couldn’t be real, but here he was.
“I.. Uhm…,” you stumbled over your words, glancing at the toy laid out beside your hip.
9:32 PM - WebRigger2099 - “How about you start taking off the rest of your clothes for me, Fawn? Show me your beautiful body.”
Web’s hand shifted, fingers hooking the edge of his underwear and dragging it down enough that you could begin to see the neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair leading to his manhood. It lingered there, just an inch away from revealing the base of his cock to you.
In all honesty, how wet you already were was more than enough humiliation alone for you to squirm - he didn’t need to contribute. You reached your arms back, struggling for a moment to unclasp your bra. It was on instinct as you tossed it down and wrapped one hand over your breasts.
You tried to not notice him typing one-handed, knowing it would be like that for the rest of the night.
9:33 PM - WebRigger2099 - “There they are, those pretty breasts of yours. Don’t hide them from me, pet.”
“I’m trying ,” you admitted, squirming in your kneeling position. You were hunching forward ever so slightly, eyes waiting for his next message.
9:33 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Color?”
“Green,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to drop your arm and sink your fingers into your thigh.
Part of you was thankful the AC in your room barely worked so it wasn’t freezing to be naked right now.
Taking the initiative for the first time in weeks, you shifted, sitting back on your haunches to display the wet spot quickly spreading across the seat of your panties.
9:33 PM - WebRigger2099 - “So wet for me already, eager little thing. Take those off too; Show me your pussy, Fawn.”
You tried… so hard to do it quickly - sexy, y’ know? Smooth. Hooking your thumbs under the waistband and tugging, just like he had, but…
Instead of a smooth descent, your underwear caught at your knees, and you froze, shifting back on your hips to try to dislodge them, but that only had you falling quickly off balance. It took both arms to catch yourself and keep you from toppling over, panties still tangled at your knees, and you whimpered, trying desperately not to look at your screen while you smoothly (read: jerkily) kicked your underwear off.
Now nude, you had to take a moment to soothe your panic. You were convinced that, to some extent, he was charmed by your awkwardness - he'd all but told you as much a few times, but it didn't stop your cheeks from burning and your mind from considering hanging up, giving up, and hiding away from the rest of the world for the next year or so.
For a moment you lingered half-laid before rolling back onto your knees, now completely nude. Eager to pretend that nothing happened, you raked your hair from your face, risking a quick glance to the screen, and -
You swore you could see his chest rise like he was chuckling at you. It was almost enough to make you wish he could see you pout.
Crossing your arms, you frowned, all too cognizant of how the motion propped up your breasts for him while he typed.
9:33 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. Take those tits in your hands now, squeeze them. Pinch your nipples for me. Do what you would want me to do to them. Color.”
“G-green,” you managed to get out, wiping your sweaty palms over your torso. Taking a deep breath, you reread the order, before letting your eyes drift back up to his video. Watching the broad, built man palm his crotch, squeezing his massive cock through his pants,you couldn’t help but remember that the black dildo was two inches shorter and more than a bit thinner.
He was massive.
Slowly, your hands uncrossed and cupped your breasts. Hesitantly, you tweaked at one of your nipples, cautious and careful. You had always been sensitive, it was hard to even sleep without a bra much less masturbate. Now Web was telling you to… oh dear. Your eyes pinched close, thumb and pointer coming together to squeeze the sensitive bundle of nerves between them.
You massaged it gently as you felt electricity run up your spine, forcing a little gasp from your throat. You straightened your back, tensing and releasing the nipple with a whimper. Your fingers lingered again, knowing every touch would jolt through you like lightning.
9:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You seem hesitant. Color.”
Taking in a sharp breath, you swallowed, glancing between the chat and the camera. It took effort to maintain ‘eye contact’, but you forced yourself to do it, to open your mouth and answer him.
“G-green.”
A pause, and then-
“‘M sensitive ,” you managed to mumble, twisting your head away from the camera.
9:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “So it seems. Do you have the clamps I bought you nearby? Maybe it will be easier hands-free.”
You glanced back, leaning forward to read his words. On instinct - you went to type your reply, only stopping yourself at the last second
“I- yeah. I think so,” you shift on your knees and grab one of the ‘secret’ boxes from under your bed where the dildo and lube was stored. Your hips were the only thing in view to Web.
When she turned around with the clamps in hand a new message awaited her.
9:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “So pretty. Turn around for me first, let me see your ass. Spread your cheeks and show me your pussy.”
Your cheeks burned and you were thankful for your mask, but you doubted he needed to see your blush to know how flustered you were.
“I-O-Okay,” you stammered, stumbling over your words, warring between your nervousness and excitement, hands pressing down on your floor to help you turn. Before long your rear was facing the camera, cunt on full display. As you buried your face in a pillow, your arms reached back to grab your own butt. You took a deep breath and pulled your cheeks apart, giving a teasing wiggle as your back arched for him.
You sat there, face pressed into your pillow for maybe a minute before finally turning around, checking his response. The sight of his cock on full display greeted you, properly hard with a hand stroking it lazily as pre-cum beaded at his tip. It was one thing to see it in a picture, but on video… Your hands went up to your face, covering your masked cheeks out of pure instinct.
9:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Such a nice, wet pussy. Are you eager for me to fill that hole with my cum, pet? Show me where you want my cock.”
You swallowed again, resisting the urge to roll over and squeal like you did sometimes when you two were sexting. You were not sexting - well.
Kinda.
Cybering? Yeah. You were cybering.
You moved your hands down to your pubic mound, fingers lingering in your curls before sinking your fingers into the flesh, pulling upwards to expose a hint of your labia.
9:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s it, good girl. My lovely Fawn, so obedient.”
“Thank you, sir,” you gasped out, forcing a deep breath and settling your voice. “I-I want to be a good girl.” You rolled your hips back, showing off more of your groin. You weren’t exactly soaked - but you were wet. It was getting worse as you watched him stroke himself. You wondered what it would feel like under your touch.
9:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Now put the clamps on, Fawn.”
Swallowing hard, you nodded grabbing at the clamps you had left sitting on the floor beside you. The black tweezer tips were soft to the touch, colder metal giving way to a small adjustable crank that could tighten them into place. The two clamps were held together by a string of metal link, quietly twinkling as you brought them up to yourself. .
Your nipples were already hard, small buds poking out from your breasts like they were begging to be pinched and pulled. It would be so much easier if he was here himself, you thought. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about spasming each time you brushed against them. He could make you do whatever he wanted. His hands looked strong, those arms clearly able to pin you.
You felt saliva pool in your mouth, and you swallowed. Hard.
You winced as the first clamp tightened onto your nipple, the sensitive flesh burning with pain as you adjusted the tightness. Too tight - you let a sigh of release loose as the pain relieved itself, more of a comfortable ache than an outright pain. You liked this sort of discomfort.
The next one quickly followed, you biting your lip as you pressed your breasts together with the sides of your arms to show the clamps off to Web.
“How’s this, Sir?”
9:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, Fawn. Now pull on that chain for me.”
You clenched your teeth, eyes shutting for a moment before nodding. Mean. He was mean .
You really shouldn’t have liked it as much as you did.
A hand rose, sheepishly curling a finger over the chain and pulling ever so slightly. It was enough, forcing you to gasp aloud.
“Ah! Fuck .” You couldn’t help the curse, tears beading at the edges of your eyes from the sheer sensitivity.
9:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girls don’t curse. Do I need to punish you for that foul mouth? How about this: Again. Harder this time.”
You nodded again, pulling harder and locking your hips into place to help stifle the powerful jolt of pleasure through your spine. It still had you nearly jump, butt clenching and shoulders shuddering.
9:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Again. Color.”
All the while, his other hand had been stroking his intimidating length, swollen veins running along his tan shaft while his dark balls hung beneath, drawing tight and high. You could almost imagine how close he was to his peak, just from watching you.
“Green. Green,” you gasped, releasing the chain as your body shivered.
9:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. Sweet little Fawn. How about you start using some of that lube now, get yourself ready for your dildo? You want to show me how you’d take my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
For a moment, you sat there, glancing over at the small lube bottle and the black toy. Slowly, resisting the urge to squeeze the dildo like a stressball, you picked the thing up, staring at it.
He was seriously bigger than this?
Instead, you squeezed out a palm-full of lube and applied it generously to the dildo, stroking over the toy until it was coated in a layer of slickness. Next was yourself, though you gave yourself a minute to breathe before inhaling a lung-full of air and nodding. The somewhat cold liquid alerted your senses as you lathered it across your opening and slipped your fingers inside yourself.
You were already wet, but lube could hardly hurt . It’s not like you were used to taking insertions like this, only ever really using your fingers before now - and even then, that was sparing .
You had ridden the dildo a few times by now - but only ever in short, contained clips for Web, and never in front of anybody like you now were.
9:36 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s a good pet, prepare that pretty pussy for me. Let’s see how deep you can take it.”
Your hand shook a little as it rested on your lips, dildo in hand to tease along your seam, the slightly curved edge giving it an ever-slightly realistic shape. Teasing yourself like this was agony, you would have far preferred to lay back and let him do whatever he wanted to you, but you were eager to please.
“Oooookay. Just.. might take a minute..,” you managed as your hand lingered, nervousness freezing your muscles in place.
You could take a few inches without much issue, you knew that mechanically. Objectively. Experimentations had proven that you could get pretty far down, if you were relaxed and tried hard enough.
You could even film it for him, but to do it while he was watching, stroking his cock openly in front of you? Your eyes shifted back to the screen, the man’s hand tightening around the shaft of his lengthy member. He had said before he was eight inches. This dildo was six, and that was already scary.
You swallowed hard, watching him pump out a few strokes to you, shifting your hand placement so that he would have a better view of your pussy. Slowly but surely, the lube did its work and before you even meant for it to properly slide inside there it was, an inch deep.
Your butt clenched, thighs quivering while the arm supporting your weight behind you shook faintly, an aching soreness beginning to spread.
“I want you, Sir,” you admitted, biting your lip as you half teased him, half tortured yourself. It was the most you could manage, and despite the burning at your cheeks you were proud. You could see by the way his cock twitched in his hand he was too, his massaging strokes growing more rapid.
9:36 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s right, Fawn. Put it inside. Show me how you want me to fuck you, pet.”
You inched yourself down, feeling the dull ache intermixed with pleasure as the toy pressed into your pussy. You let out a ragged gasp, pausing to lift your hips back up, slowly settling back down. You settle into a shallow rhythm, desperately trying to not play the pathetic, anxiety ridden virgin you really were.
Right now, you were Fawn.
You stuttered for a moment in anxiety, rolling your arms to settle your hands back behind you as your legs shivered in discomfort. After a moment, you tried to force most of the dildo into you, forcing a gasp to leave your lips as the aching pressure only got worse.
You could barely take 3/4ths of this damn thing - you sure as hell couldn’t think about trying to take Web right now. Thankfully, your furrowed brows were mostly out of view.
Web was muted, but you swear you could hear the clap of the edge of his hand against his balls, each pump up and down his cock faster than the last. You took it as encouragement, a small smile forming on your lips despite the pain inside you. You were never too worried about pain, it so often came hand in hand with pleasure to you.
Rolling your hips, you half-rode, half-ground against the dildo as you lifted your butt higher, desperately searching for that special nook that promised your peak.
Eventually, a little surprisingly, you did. Your slender fingers and sensitive body could only do so much to yourself, but this was perhaps as close as you had ever gotten to a proper orgasm. You leaned into it, smile widening as you took control of your own pleasure. Up and down you bounced against the dildo, each drop sending it deep inside you. Surely you could reach a new record tonight and earn those rewards he promised, you mused to yourself. Or you would later, since your brain was quickly becoming putty in the present.
As nice as this was, it wasn’t sustainable, not forever. Your legs were quickly getting tired, aching muscles ready to give out. You had to readjust, your torso leaning forward so that you could sit on your knees and ride it that way, hands and knees holding you up.
As your weight shifted, you underestimated just how much pain your thigh would spike with. The adjustment made it kick out, foot striking the bottle of lube and knocking it into your bed frame with a loud bang. You winced, mortified, head whipping around to look at what had happened. Your second mistake. The quick motion had you collapsing on your ass, falling straight on your tailbone and sending a jolt of pain up your spine. You cursed.
Loudly.
Your cheeks burned . You half wanted to dive for the computer and shut it, but his message popped into view just in time.
9:38 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You okay, Fawn?”
“I’m so fucking stupid,” you muttered, not even thinking about it as you lurched and grabbed your aching tailbone. Your whole body hurt now and you were pretty fucking positive Aurora would have heard that. Desperately, you sat up on your knees, looking over the laptop at your barricaded bedroom door.
“I-I fuck. Fuck, I’m dumb. Should’ve expected, honestly,” you were just rambling to yourself at this point as you went to retrieve the slightly spilled bottle of lube, clipping the cap closed and sitting back on your knees. Eyeing the computer, you frowned, seeing that Web had paused and was leaned forward, both hands on the laptop. You glanced down at his text.
9:38 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Stop. Breathe. Don’t you dare call yourself that again, understood?”
“Sorry,” was all you could manage to say. You took a deep breath, unsure what to do at this point. Your hands basically wandered around the floor as you sat back down on your knees. Anxiety was completely eating you up at this point.
“I always fuck everything up,” you mumbled again, moving to pick up the black dildo, assuming that well - you two were done. You ruined the mood and you hated yourself for it.
9:39 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You don’t. You’re beautiful and - fuck - I nearly came. Good girl, it usually takes me a while. Take a moment. Deep breaths.”
He had obviously stopped stroking himself at that point, but his head was slick with pre-cum, his cock twitching with sensitivity as it stood hard as a rock despite the miscalculation. You could see just a hint of it as he shifted in his seat. You couldn’t tell if it was a bed, couch or something else.
You took a deep breath again, wiping your teary eyes. “That’s good,” you sighed. You rubbed over your arm, fingers drawing over the massive tattoo on your upper arm. The fawn’s teary eyes sure fit how you felt right now.
9:39 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Set the dildo aside, get out the lovense.”
You remembered setting up the controls when you first got it with him, but you had been too shy to bring up trying it just yet. To do so live would be exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. A simple slide of his finger on the app and the toy would start buzzing harder.
Doing as you were told, you placed the dildo on a towel you had set on the ground nearby quickly followed by your bottle of lube. Producing the lovense, you looked it over, frowning. The big device was like a big U shaped hook, the big bulbous end seemingly meant for insertion. The site called it an egg vibrator. With the sheer amount of lube still coating you, you skipped pumping out another squirt and instead pressed the fat end against your entrance, slipping cozily inside with ease now that you had been stretched open.
The device went deeper than you were expecting, but it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. What did alarm you is where the smaller hook had ended up resting, the thinner tip nestled right up against your clit.
You got the feeling it wasn’t just for keeping it in place anymore. You swallowed hard, looking back to the camera and clearing your throat.
“I’m-I’m ready, Sir,” you said sheepishly.
9:41 PM - WebRigger2099 - “We’ll start on a low setting. Let you get used to it.”
Nodding to show you saw the message, you hummed, eyes watching him produce his cellphone - a sleek black android without a single decoration, even the case plain and boring. You couldn’t help the snicker that almost left your lips - of course he would have an android.
His thumb slipped across the screen and without delay you felt a vibration against your walls.
Subconsciously, you clenched, grimacing at the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn’t bad , just strange, awkward.
9:43 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Color.”
You shifted on your knees, ignoring the discomfort still in your tailbone and hip.
“G… Green,” your voice was softer now, more nervous. Every so often, you risked a glance at the door, but nobody showed, blessedly. Maybe everyone was watching a movie together or something.
9:43 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eyes on me. Focus, fawn.”
You saw Web raise the settings a tad without warning, a small punishment for your distracted glances. You clenched around the toy, sitting back and glancing at his feed.
His hand had returned to his cock, slow kneading strokes trailing the length of his manhood up and down while his other hand held the phone. As if simulating his own strokes, the thumb at his phone drew up and down, sending waves of vibration inside you. It had you bite down on your lip, leaning forward and placing a hand on the floor.
Clicking a button on his phone, the vibrator returned to a constant, dull stimulation before he went to type out another message, his cock bobbing as he released it.
9:44 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Should I turn it up higher, pet? Color.”
“Green, please,” you gasp out, placing your other hand down on the floor to steady yourself.
He turned the settings up bit by bit, sliding his finger slowly up the phone. The buzzing within you grew intense, almost unbearable, but it was reaching a spot you had finally discovered today after so many sessions of sheepish masturbation attempts and picture taking. You felt a deep ache within you waiting to finally be released, pent up frustration building like steam in a kettle.
9:44 PM - WebRigger2099 - “More?”
“Please - fuck , please,” you begged, your fingers digging into the carpet beneath you, desperate for something to cling to.
9:44 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Language.”
He scolded you, his message was dripping in the warnings of swiftly approaching punishment. Would he push the settings to max, watch you squirm uncontrollably as the vibrator made you buck?
No. Everything stopped, that blissful feeling inside you halted all at once. He had turned it off. You could scream, you wanted to snap at him for his cruelty. You were getting so close and he - he robbed you of your peak.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, not particularly meaning it. It wasn’t hard to tell there was no regret in your tone, not with how petulant you sounded.
9:45 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ll make you sorry. Turn around and spank yourself. Hard. You’ve said that word six times since we’ve been on video, so you’ll give yourself six spanks.”
You whimpered audibly at his command, begrudgingly turning around to expose your oozing cunt to him.
“ Is… Isn’t edging me enough ?” you complained like you could hear him reply.
Of course you were only speaking to the air. You had already turned around, obedient as ever to Web. You did things without fully thinking them through often times, his daily commands overriding any natural instinct or desires that usually distracted you one way or another. He kept you responsible and healthy. He was good at this.
Your thighs were slick with arousal by now, a desperate need for his cock suffusing every thought in your brain - what thoughts were left, anyway. Your torso collapsed forward, a forearm being used as a pillow against your face while your other arm reached over to squeeze your own rear tentatively.
You lifted your hand high, arm trembling as you tried to aim for your own cheeks without sight. This wasn’t the most humiliating thing he had asked you to do, this should have been easy… As long as no one interrupted and saw you spanking yourself in front of a computer screen, all would be fine.
That was not a conversation you wanted to have with any of your five roommates, especially Taylor.
She was just - judgmental sometimes. Not that she didn’t engage in stuff like this herself in person, probably. God knew she brought home enough girls to your house to convince you that she dabbled in some questionable stuff. She just… Well, you didn’t need your roommates to know what you were doing right now.
Your arm stiffened before coming down, a light clap sounding in the air. You winced in pain, the aim clearly off as you smacked against hard bone instead of soft flesh. You adjusted your aim, wrist trembling, and crack ! Another down, aim better this time. It had you hissing from the sting, surprising yourself at your own strength - or maybe your sensitivity.
You opted to be a tad gentler for the rest, firm enough to leave a red blush but not so hard as to sound like thunder and disturb anyone. You had to be at least a little careful with the noise. You were thankful your bedroom was so far away from everyone else’s.
When you turned back around, Web’s latest message was waiting for you.
9:46 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re lucky you won’t have to be the one spanking you when I meet you in person. Your inexperience is showing, Fawn. Still, you did well for a beginner. Good girl.”
Web had stopped stroking himself by now, hard cock still in clear view but untouched. Almost as soon as you finished reading his message the buzz began again. It took you a fraction of a second to realize it was on max settings.
You nearly buckled then and there, your knees turning to jelly.
You bit your lip to stop yourself from cursing again. The last thing you needed was another punishment. Instead, you simply collapsed, face in view of the camera and eyes shut tight as your hands went to your sex to help rub out the swiftly approaching orgasm.
Your own touch was nervous, as if you had never masturbated before in your life. This simple little toy was a godsend, or maybe it was Web’s skilled manipulation of both the toy and you, you weren’t sure. Whatever the case, your head touched the clouds as you climbed your peak for the first time.
You were too dazed to speak when it was over, the contractions inside you clenching around the toy as your hips weakly spasmed. Tears from your hard orgasm blurred your vision, breath shot as you took in inhales with stuttering gasps.
9:49 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good pet. So obedient. You did very well today. How did you enjoy my gifts?”
“Yes,” you croaked out, voice tired and worn, rolling your head to the side as you watched his messages.
9:50 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’ve earned yourself some rest, Fawn. I won’t keep you. Message me when you wake up tomorrow, understood? I have much to think about. I’ll have a treat for you to wake up to.”
You took a moment to stabilize yourself, pulling the toy from your vagina with a gasp and just letting it drop to the floor. You’d clean it in the dead of night… later. Slowly you lifted yourself up onto your arms and nodded.
“O…okay. Uhm.. goodnight,” you said, eyes still on his torso, seeing that he was breathing hard.
9:50 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Goodnight, Fawn. You did very good. I’m proud of you.”
His screen clicked to black an instant later.
9:50 PM - WebRigger2099 - Has gone offline.
So, you tossed the wet toys and lube in the small plastic tote to take out after everyone went to bed, wiped yourself off with baby wipes and redressed. You ended up checking on your roommates and found them all home from the bar, somehow and extremely invested in another Chris Chan documentary on youtube, using the projector as a TV hooked up to Taylor’s laptop.
So, thankfully nobody noticed. You got water, you cleaned your toys and hid them back under your tiny bed.
The first thing you did the next morning was check your messages, a hand covering your face as you smiled and blushed at the image sent.
Web’s torso was on full display, cock angled up so she could see its undercarriage. Along his stomach and past his belly button was a pool of sticky white, stray spurts seemingly shot further up his torso before the main gush was emptied out. The text with it was simple:
7:04 AM - WebRigger2099 - You gave me a lot to think about.
7:04 AM - WebRigger2099 - Message me when you wake up and we’ll discuss how everything went.
You could squeal in joy. You did that to him. You did that despite falling on your ass and nearly bruising your hip like an idiot.
You were not in love - who could fall in love with a stranger on the internet so quickly? - but damn did it help you feel good about yourself.
#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#into the spider verse#miguel o'hara smut
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welcome to my reading list of minghao ficts!i'm actually so sad that i can't find more...
FICTS ! ✧*。
Avant-Garde (fluff, college au, painter!hao) by @hoyoungy
Glacial Pace (smut, friends to lovers) by @wonusite
Home Yet? (smut, established relationship) by @idyllicdeco
Felix Felicis (fluff, slytherin!minghao) by @blue-jisungs
Rush Hour (smut, enemies to lovers) by @lovelyhan
Attracted to You (smut) by @cheolhub
All Mine (smut) by @cheolhub
F* Me, Emo Boy (smut) @sunnylovespickles
Chèrie (smut, duke!minghao) by @venerex
Art Project (smut, fluff) by @1-800-hwahui
Monitor Me (smut, camboy!minghao) by @sunnylovespickles
Deadly Sin (smut, horror, demon!minghao) by @onlymingyus
Longing of a Noble's Daughter (smut, angst, royal au) by @sunnylovespickles
Oh, My! (smut) by @toruro
Now or Never The Series (smut) @heartkyeom
Bloody Kisses (smut, vampire!minghao) by @duhnova
Once Bitten (smut, contains blood) by @sluttywonwoo
Blocked Contacts (fluff, jealous hao) by @jae-bummer
Kiss Me Thru The Phone (smut) by @number1mingyustan
Wild With You (smut) by @beahae
Dress, Preview (smut) by @ally-127
Erotic Humiliation (smut) by @bitchlessdino
Wildest Dreams (smut, angst, moviestar!hao) by @rubyreduji
Zen (fluff, smut) by @playmetheclassics
Coffee at Christmas (fluff, smut) by @sluttyminghao
Playing Cupid (smut) by @sluttywonwoo
04.18 am (fluff, smut, pianist!minghao) by @number1mingyustan
Fixer Upper (smut, friends to lovers) by @seungkwansphd
Tamed Studies (minghao x male!reader) @flwrboi
Paint Me in Gold (fluff, semi royal, ghost au) by @starryse
Take it Like a Good Girl (smut, ft.mingyu) by @pussy-potions
Home for The Holidays (fluff, smut) by @bangchanswolfpelt
Wrong Turn (smut, vampire!minghao) by @meltwonu
Leave it On The Runway (smut, model!hao) by @kpop-hive
Galaxies Away (romance, angst, nerd!hao) by @dianalikecats
A Thousand Words Left Unsaid (angst, heartbreak) by @twogyuu
The Party Chronicles (smut) by @bitchlessdino
Thank You (smut, ft.jun) by @peachybun-bun
DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。
just minghao's hands appreciation (posted by @uremoangel)
minghao de-stress you with oral (fluff, smut) by @nsfwhao
soft sex (fluff, smut) by @toruro
please (smut) by @pussy-potions
kinktober drabble (smut, minghao is a sex store worker) by @sluttyminghao
fucking + praising (fluff, smut) by @gfcheol
aftercare (nsfw-ish, soft) by @gfcheol
flying & fucking (smut) by @toruro
minghao as pussy slapper (smut) by @toruro
hard dom!hao + spanking (smut) by @onlyhuis
accidental stimulation (fluff, smut) by @wildfluwer
one more time (fluff, smut) by @onlymingyus
hao kissing your tears during sex (fluff) by @toruro
light-feather praises (nsfw) by @venerex
bedtime tea (fluff, comfort) by @venerex
how i'd do? (smut) by @onlymingyus
[20:13] (filthy, iykyk) by @trash-hours
on your knees (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics
passionate sex (smut) by @sluttywonwoo
slow down, look at me (smut) by @jeongwife
freakily good with his hands (smut)
corruption kink (smut) 2nd ver
fingering (smut, fluff tho)
you have to be quiet (smut)
when it's cold outside (fluff)
that's sick ! (fluff)
fucking with your hands tied (smut)
want to see cherry blossoms (fluff)
let me take care of you (fluff, comfort)
hurry up (smut, sub!minghao)
jealous sex (smut)
minghao's kinks headcanon (nsfw)
horny dom!hao (nsfw)
fucking with racer!minghao (smut)
art exhibition (smut)
a-z nsfw with minghao
drawing body paint on your thighs (nsfw)
sucking his on kitchen counter (nsfw)
daddy sugar!minghao (smut)
my muse (smut, sub!minghao)
paparazzi!minghao (smut)
smut, 3.5k- yeah, that's it.
wake up early (very fluff, also smut)
blade of hearts (smut)
butterfly (fluff, smut)
sir!minghao (smut)
last (implied mature themes)
maniac (smut)
wanna hold your hand (smut, fluff)
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watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and knowing Hobie Brown has gotten me feral. Could not stop thinking about being that man’s lover and oh the things he could do. Jesus.
Getting Real
Hobie Brown x Fem y/n: Smut Read
© ladyquietus
AN: a bit older y/n from another dimension, some smut, fluff, cussing, nicknames, semi age gap, the works.
W: I apologize if I’ve made any mistakes, English is not my first language.
Minors, ageless blogs do NOT interact.
>> Long read ahead
“Oh, I bet you think your honey taste like sugar. But honey, sugar don’t taste that bitter~ Baby, you ain’t sweet. Look at what you did to me~…” y/n sings to the lyrics, tapping her foot on the floor. The music blaring from her headphones, getting distracted from doing homework infront of her.
She adjusted the frames of her glasses, licking her lips and continued humming to the tone. Failing to notice the flashes of bright, sharp lights beaming through the bedroom window behind her.
It was heavily pouring outside, the shut window slowly rutted opened. Slim fingers appeared on the frame, pulling a bit more force Til the figure could come through the window.
The masked vigilante made his way inside, patting off droplets of rain. He took off his mask, letting his full blown hair pop up.
He smirked at the sight of y/n, sitting infront of her desk, Clueless about this presence. The music she was listening and the loudness of the rain made y/n unaware of Hobie approaching her.
Hobie posed finger gun on his right hand, pressing the tips of his fingers on y/n’s upper back.
“Hands where I came see em’ lil’ lady” he jokes, feeling her tensed.
Y/n quickly pulled off her headphones and spun around, looking at a chuckling Hobie in disbelief.
“You ass,” she glared at him, pushing him off.
“You’re gonna get robbed easily love, I won’t be around you for that.” He holds his hands up in defense.
“Luckily, we’ve got another Spider-Man here huh, what’re you doing here anyways?” She questions, crossing her legs on the office chair she was sitting.
Hobie plopped down on her bed, wincing a bit when he noticed a small stain of blood on his shirt on the left side where his ribs lie.
“Shit.” He cussed, pulling off his leathered spiked jacket.
“What’s wrong?” Y/n stood up concerned, slowly made her way towards him and sat beside him.
“Just a graze, don’t worry. Must’ve gotten caught a crossfire between these crime families back home, what nasty lil’ shits.”
“And you didn’t feel that until now? You must’ve been in a load of adrenaline, It must be wearing off.” y/n sighs, kneeling down beside the bed and pulled out a storage box. She took out a first aid kit and sat back again beside Hobie.
“You’re cute when you’re concerned doll, it’s like you’re forgetting I have massive pain tolerance.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, feeling her worry for him a bit made his heart swell.
He always kept his heart up on his sleeve, meeting y/n months ago somehow changed that despite they’re still friends. He also knew that she was older than him, two years older in fact and it must’ve set her back.
They met when he and Gwen came to her dimension, looking for their villain of the week that somehow skipped across dimensions and landed on hers. She was a med student, walked in a parking lot alone at a convenience store. Not knowing she was being followed a creep whom Hobie took action on.
The rest was history.
“Putting your schooling in good use aye?” He jokes again, taking off his shirt after seeing her getting crossed.
Thou shall not poke a pissed off y/n.
“Glad you find this funny, what would happen if you got hit somewhere serious huh Hobie?” She clicked her tongue, throughly disinfecting his flesh wound.
“Relax, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”
Hobie’s relentless teasing didn’t lighten the situation, it just made y/n worry more whenever he’s not around. She would never really know the next time he’ll come back.
He felt it, she was always the worrywart. Somehow he could read what was going on through her pretty little head.
“I’ll always come back to you, my love. So please stop worrying, I’m here with you right now and I promise you I’d want to go through everything for you.” His voice softens, his gaze never leaving hers.
He leaned just a bit closer, caught a whiff of her lavender shampoo and declared that it was his favorite scent.
“Hobs…” she quietly says, feeling the tension between them. Her eyes meeting his, couldn’t help but noticed he kept glancing on her lips.
“Mhm, yes mamas?” He couldn’t help but inch a bit closer, grazing his lip on hers.
Just a lil bit of tease.
The slight cold of his steel lip ring had made y/n’s skin crawl with goosebumps. His rough, firm hand radiated a lot of warmth on hers. Yet his thumb caressing the top of hers made something stir up inside her.
The new nickname he gave her wasn’t helping, she felt a bit guilty she wanted to hear it more from his lips.
He was waiting for her, he didn’t want to freak her out if he was too forward. But he was too damn excited, he’s been wanting to kiss her for a while now.
It was eating him up inside.
y/n closed the distance, letting her lips connected to his but it was only quick and subtle. She was nervous as hell, the last time she kissed someone was her ex-boyfriend a year ago.
“Babe that’s not enough, not enough at all.” His voice was heavy with need, in need of her.
Hobie raised his left hand, enclosing his slender fingers on her jawline. Grasping it softly and pulled her closer, wrapping his other hand around her waist to pull her on top of him.
Y/n squeaked In surprised, Instinctively holding on to his broad shoulders.
“Hobs-”
His lips immediately crashing to hers, he loved how soft it felt and the taste of earl grey tea still lingered on her tongue.
y/n moaned on his mouth, it was music to his ears and he wanted to listen to it more.
The kiss was sloppy, y/n was struggling to keep up. Her nails dug into his skin, making him grow excited beneath her. She surely felt it and subconsciously started to grind on it through his leathered pants.
“Mm mas, You’re making it hard to stop,” he says in between kisses.
She grew too fond of it, she didn’t care if her lips had start to swell or bruised. It was addicting to make out with Hobie Brown.
“Mmm,” were the only sounds she left out. Taking the lip ring between her teeth and pulled slowly.
Hobie’s grip on her waist and thighs got tighter when she did it, almost made him cum on that spot. He swore this woman was gonna be the death of him if she keeps it up.
y/n’s hands started to trail, from his shoulders to his chest. Feeling every detail of him, how warm he was despite the nonchalance he always gives off to most people.
She reached right above his pants, Hobie was sensitive to what she has touched.
y/n dragged a finger over the tent, her wetness grew at the feeling of how hard he was of her.
They both finally pulled away, heavy breathing. Hobie leaned against the headboard, still not loosening his vice on her as if she were to disappear any moment.
Looking at her all disheveled and swollen lips, her eyes kept screaming at him to just take her then and there.
“Love, I’d want you to shoot me in the head if I ever say no to you but have you even done it before? I wouldn’t want to rush you to something you’re not comfortable with.” He reassures in a soft voice despite his lustful gaze.
y/n couldn’t care less anymore, she had too much pent up frustration. She was still a virgin, the only farthest thing she had done with her ex was giving and receiving oral sex.
“Hobs, if you won’t fuck the living daylights out of me- I will be putting a lock on that window the minute you leave.” she huffs, palming his hardness.
“Damn mamas alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles, both of his hands crawling their way to her ass. A bit frustrated that she was still covered in shorts and a baggy shirt, it may look cute on her but Hobie preferred much that she wore close to nothing at all.
“Gonna need these off first,” he mumbles, burying his face on her neck, leaving lazy kisses and soft bites.
“Couldn’t agree more,” she replied, closing her eyes and biting her lip to moan out loud.
Hobie ripped out her shorts, tugging the cloths away and was surprised to feel her wearing a thong.
“Jesus, love.” He smiles against her neck, immediately groping her cheeks and slapping the right.
He pulled on her thong, making her wet slit grind against the thin fabric.
“Fuck, Hobs…”
“You’ve been wearing this kind of panties around me all this time?” Another slap on her right cheek.
“Mmm sometimes,” y/n started to enjoy this too much.
Another slap before his firm fingers started to spread her cheeks apart, groping and gripping them all around.
Without warning, Hobie pushed her over on her back. Making them switch sides. He was on top, wouldn’t even stop smiling at her.
“Do you know how many times I keep thinking about you being underneath me?” He caresses her cheek, placing a peck.
He lowered himself more, placing more and more small yet sweet kisses. Raising the disruptive shirt to her chest til her breasts were on full view to his pleasure.
Hobie already loves them, they were perfect to him. They weren’t too small nor too big, mouth started to salivate at the size of her areolas.
Letting one arm to support himself, he cupped one of her breast and kneed on the erected bud. Licking her lips for another neediness.
“Something tells me it’s gonna be more than once,” y/n managed to whimper out, Hobie taking the whole bud in his mouth.
His hand caresses it’s way to her swollen pussy lips, eating the thin line of cloth. He could feel how needy and wet she was for him, and God she was soaked.
She squirmed, bucking her hips for more of his fingers. Meanwhile, Hobie’s mouth was occupied- switching between one tit to another.
His fingers itched to plunge deep inside her ache, he pulled the thong to the side and started rubbing her clit.
“Hobs… fuck, that feels good,” she mewed, kept on squirming.
Hobie hummed in pleasure, feeling her wither from his touch made him smirk.
Y/n’s body jerked when she felt a sharp and pleasurable pain when Hobie softly hit one of her nipples.
“Hobie!” He chuckles, licking the aching nub soothingly.
“If you’ll let me mas, I need to taste you. Need to fill my hunger for you right now.” He left her chest, licking and biting his way down to her abdomen. Leaving so much marks, he’s gotten too proud and wanted to mark her more.
She couldn’t say anything but whimpers. She nodded her head in response, but this only wanted Hobie to tease her more.
Without warning, both of his fingers plunged inside her. Feeling the walls tightening around him, it was so warm- he started imagining how amazing it must feel if it were his cock.
“Use your big girl words, love.” He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made y/n grip her hands all over his body.
“Hobs- eat me out please,”
Hobie didn’t waste any time, he’d gotten too needy- placing his lips on her sex. It reeked of desperation.
Both his left hand and mouth enjoyed giving y/n too much pleasure, His right gripping on her inner thigh to keep her open for him. Y/n still kept on squirming, her legs begging to close in on his head.
It was too much.
She bit her bottom lip too hard, she swore she was already seeing stars as Hobie kept on abusing her pussy with the combo. She couldn’t help but let her moans out, a few cusses and whimpers of “Hobs” kept escaping from her mouth.
She felt this wave, this urge for release.
“Wait Hobs- Hobie! I’m gonna pee- stop,” she started to pull away, gripping on the sheets as if it were to help her.
Hobie didn’t say anything but looked at her, meeting her eyes but didn’t stop. He went faster, flicking his tongue all over her wet sex and fucking it with his fingers.
“Hobi- Hobie,” she couldn’t escape, Hobie kept on pulling her back. The more she struggled- the closer the release.
“Hobie” her toes curled, letting the wave overcome her.
It came in spurs, she started squirting all over his mouth and face. Hobie immediately started lapping her up, trying to drink every little drop.
That’s a first, even my ex wasn’t able to do that with me. Her chest was heaving, thighs still trembling from the aftermath.
“If I knew you tasted this good, I would’ve done this sooner.” He smiles, giving her pussy one last kiss before kissing her lips a few times.
“Mmm- sorry, I made a mess on your face,” she breathes out, pussy still sensitive as Hobie’s huge girth was pressing against it.
Hobie unzipped his pants, quickly taking it off and freed his aching cock from his boxers.
“You’re gonna have to make another mess, mas. Whole lot more,” grinding the tip at her wetness, giving special attention to her swollen clit.
“Hobie… I just came,” she glanced nervously at his size, it was a good guess of 6-7 inches with a bit of a wide veiny girth.
“Better then, I’ll take care of you darling. Don’t worry, you’ll be wanting it more soon,” Hobie slowly pressed on his hips, the tip slowly making its way inside her folds.
As he leisurely pressed it inside, she could feel him stretching her out. Her walls adjusting to his size, but surprisingly she only felt a scale of 5/10 pain.
“You okay, my love?” Hobie asks, each of his hands holding her hands down. Kissing her cheek and neck to reassure her.
“Mhm, just keep going. Is it even fully in yet?” She groaned.
“Not even close, but fuck I’m only half way through- the tip’s kissing your cervix already.” He laughs a bit, then groaned at she kept gripping around him.
The pain started to retreat, and all she could feel how full she was of him, and he was right- she could feel his hard tip pressing on the entrance of her cervix.
“Hobie, move. Please.” She begged, looking at his pained expression.
“Mmm, love. You’re still adjusting,” Hobie groaned, hearing her say those words almost made him pound into her to oblivion.
“Please Hobs, start fucking me. I won’t say it again.” She says sternly, something inside her grew excited. Her nervousness soon started to diminish and was replaced with yearning.
He looked down on her, wringing her wrists together above her head and slinging his web- bounding them together.
“As you wish.”
He placed one of his hands under her ass, pulling her up a bit and started to pull his length out before plunging it back in her.
Y/n’s bound hands immediately placed themselves at the back of his neck. It was a slow pounding but she was hitting it too deep, the tip pounding her cervix at every thrust.
The squelching noise that both of their sexes made overwhelmed their senses, their animalistic groans filled the room. Both couldn’t care less if their neighbors could hear them fucking away.
Their sweats began to mix, everything what they’re doing made them intertwine with one another. Y/n’s wetness was already covering Hobie’s cock, pummeling her has gotten easier and more of his length disappeared in her.
“Shit, mas, Your pussy’s swallowing me. I can’t stop.” Hobie gritted his teeth, being inside her made him addicted.
She felt that familiar urge again, but it was stronger. Hobie’s merciless pummeling edged her closer.
“Hobs,” she whimpered.
“I know, I know love. Cum all over me, make a mess.” He connected his lips to hers, muffling her loud moans as she let herself succumbed to his commands. Her whole body bucked and quiver against his.
Hobie hissed, sensed he was nearing to his end. But he wanted to finish feeling all of her crumbling first, then pulled out. Just barely, spurs of his hot cum landed on her stomach.
It took them a moment, giving them both time to come back to the real world.
Hobie plopped himself on top of her, she didn’t mind the weight. It was rather comforting, feeling him against her.
Hobie placed himself beside her on the bed, pulling her in- not caring they were both buck naked. Ripping off the web on her knotted hands.
She snuggled closer to him, knowing there was no turning back after what they’ve done.
“I know I’ve said I don’t believe in labels and consistency but, I’d prefer to make an exception for you, my love. Only you. I want this to be real for us,” Hobie broke the silence, playing with the strands of her hair and caressing her back.
“You better keep your word, Hobs. I have liked you for quite some time now.” Y/n started to trace her fingers on his chest, savoring each moment they have.
“I think we’ve gone way past using “like” love, doesn’t really match the way you’ve been needing me earlier.” He teases, groping an ass cheek.
#hobie brown#spider man atsv#hobie smut#spider punk#hobie x Reader#hobie brown smut#hobie brown fanfic#spider punk fluff#marvel#smut#hobie brown fluff
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cw: angst. character death. you and izuku are married and have a young son. godparent!katsuki. katsuki has an unnamed wife.
Your son always starts a fuss when you bring him to his grandmother’s house, but for some reason, as you slowly trudge up the steps to your mother-in-law’s modest home (she’d refused to let her son move her out into your large shared home or even a much larger, more roomy domicile of her own), you find that your son is eerily quiet, as though he can sense the turmoil inside of you and is choosing to give you a much needed break.
By the time he makes it into Inko’s arms, he’s always less fussy, but today he’s quietly looking at you, curiously, as if he’s waiting for you to break down and cry. He’s unnerving that way, gifted with practically the same emotional intuition as your sweet husband, and it doesn’t help that he has practically the same face. Inko is quick to take your behaving not-yet-toddler from you, and gives you a sympathetic look. She is not going to the funeral yet because she plans to watch your son, but she’s spent practically every night this week at Mitsuki’s house, preparing food and helping her through her tears. You’ve helped your best friend, Katsuki’s wife, grieve similarly, but now that the final moment has come to lay him to rest, you feel dread rising in the pit of your stomach.
You should not show your face. After all, you killed Katsuki Bakugou.
After you repeat this statement again out loud to your mother-in-law, shaky hands folded in your lap as she hands you a glass of water and tries to steady your nerves, she reminds you, as all good mothers would, that it wasn’t your fault.
He’d meant to save you. You hadn’t been the one to force an unclosable hole through his chest, and if it hadn’t been you standing and vulnerable in that particular spot, it would have been someone else he’d have aimed to save.
Perhaps that last part is true. Or perhaps, because you are one of his closest friends' treasures, he fought a little bit harder, moved a little bit quicker and a little bit more recklessly to ensure that you made it out, that you’d be the one to explain to your best friend why her husband is not coming home to dinner, rather than he have to explain to Izuku why the mother of his child is no longer of this world. It’s a moment that plays in your mind constantly ever since you first heard the sickening crunch of bone and sinew give way, the spray of your child’s godfather’s blood soaking your clean clothes.
You’d just been at the grocery store and run into each other by chance. It’s been over a decade long gag now to pretend you hate each other more than everything while acknowledging that you’ve both intertwined your lives with a person the other holds terribly dear. When you saw Katsuki you crinkled your nose, a joke akin to ‘look what the cat dragged in’ muttered in some variation by you both, before walking side by side and catching up. The four of you had dinner plans that weekend anyway and Katsuki takes the idea of godparent far too seriously for being an only child, and thus was far too interested in what you were putting in your cart.
“I read kids develop their tastes early in life and I don’t think this” - he picks up a six-pack carton of juice that was admittedly laden in sugar from your cart - “is particularly conducive to healthy development.”
“Katsuki, I didn’t ask you,” you hiss, snatching it out of his hands, then sheepishly add, “in fact, that was mine.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“Figures for all that chaotic energy you have,” he jokes.
You had more to say to him, and then merely ten minutes later, in a flurry of explosions and debris, screams and scattered people, you were staring straight through his chest to the other side.
“Fuck.”
Fuck? You thought. Katsuki looking at you, then looking at the gaping wound in his chest, then looking at the incapacitated villain and the destroyed supermarket, then looking back at your hands deep in his wound, pressing down at his chest desperately to stop the bleeding as best you can, tears running down your cheeks. You who so often were joined at the hip with the one he loves, who’s grown to merge their natural smile with Izuku’s over time, whose face is distorted in fear and shock and desperation to keep him alive so you don’t have to tell your best friend that you are the reason he’s no longer here to protect her.
Because he was protecting you. For his friend. For his wife. For the kid you’ve entrusted to him in case something happens to your or Izuku's child, who better not get that goddamn juice box.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
You want to scream, no it’s not, it will never be, how am I supposed to tell her-
“I forgive you. I’m not mad. Just take care of her, okay?”
Katsuki’s voice was the quietest, calmest you had ever heard it be since you’ve met him and you hate that he smiled, and you hate hate hate that Izuku would have done it for him, too.
The shaking turns into sobs again and Inko holds your hands tightly. Your son is upstairs, too occupied with toys, again far too polite and considerate, and you wonder if he’ll remember how hard you are crying right now. If he’ll remember his father crying and holding you that terrible evening. You wonder what he’ll do when he’s old enough to know why his auntie doesn’t have a husband and why there are four people smiling in that wedding photo that hangs in your home instead of the three he knows, and who bought him nearly half of his books and toys.
“I can’t go there,” you whisper again.
Inko tilts her head.
“But she needs you,” Inko murmurs. You wipe your tears with the back of your hands. Your husband, who isn’t the coward you are, is already at the funeral, working through funeral arrangements. Your throat dries up at how much he must be apologizing again, or perhaps he’s not apologizing at all, keeping his head up high and reminding everyone that Dynamight died saving someone important to him and what he did was not a mistake.
“Kacchan is a true hero.” Izuku repeated softly into your ear, then to himself, then to you again, then to the world, then to his wife. His wife who should hate you but is too mournful to bother.
“I can’t go there,” you repeat. “I cannot look her in the eyes.”
But your best friend needs you and cried in your arms that very first night.
Inko nods.
“But she’d do it for you,” she says, softly.
She would do it for you, the same way Izuku would have done it for Katsuki.
…
Moments later, you’re squeezing Dynamight’s widow’s hand as Izuku praises him, and you wish it hadn’t turned out this way but you’re at least fulfilling your promise.
Just take care of her, okay?
You will, for the rest of your life.
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