#stupid cat hatred

[shadyjumpintady]

yayayayyyyyyy

the emotions..

[pumpkinfox]

One last doodle for the day

I forgot to mention I beat this stupid cat in hard mode solo

This bastard almost made me snap my controller in two from how much I was making mistakes and also with 80% dodge window also having anti up with a sword build

[makedamnsvre]

disappeared into the mountains forever yesterday hi

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[crysdrawsthings]

I have almost forgot to include these two sketches, so I will put it here, as a little bonus: little star and toxic yuri (gender neutral)

Compilation of sketches with three characters from the CCU: Extended Edition.

All three in one way or the other representing the fact, that taking mortal people and making them into immortal personifications of such exciting concepts as vengeance, ill omens or hope would give them various flavors of trauma and issues.

More specifically we have here Measse - woman of many anger issues, deific equivalent of hitwoman and part-time Morgoth cosplayer, naturally including having negative rizz (but thankfully not trying to convince people that he, in fact, has all the sex available).

Lily - the fascinating root cause of slavaboo elves, little ray of hope and kindness, who makes magic playing gusli and may or may not be terrified of her timeless future erasing her human side.

And Makar, who might need to go and get this constant cold checked at the medical professional, but otherwise is a uniquely unlucky personification of weaponized misfortune and bad omens. He also crochets and was born more or less alongside rotary phones.

[chateaaa]

"he probably hates me" x "i love you so much"

pairing: Rin Itoshi x fem! reader

warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

req: "he probably hates me" x "i love you so much" Trope with rin is so true! Mau I request a one-shot of this pls? If u do make it, Tysm! ❤

Rin Itoshi was bad with his feelings and emotions. He knew that but deep down, he is actually a very fragile and sensitive man. Whose heart has been shattered into a million pieces because of how his brother left him.

Ever since you met Rin, your life has changed by becoming his girlfriend, Rin may not seem like it but he would be your typical act of service guy at the start of your relationship

Rin Itoshi, who after blue lock changed, his demeanour changed, his attitude changed and more importantly, your relationship changed. It's like he hates you, he never cares for you, Rin who after blue lock didn't even spare a glance at you.

You knew about Rin's ideals to beat his brother, but you still continued to support him, such as watching how the blue lock won against the football team of japan.

After the U20 match, you received a message from your cold beloved boyfriend, who asked if you can both meet at the park near the stadium because he has something to tell you, which you replied agreeing.

You walked to the park with a small frown, fully expecting that the Rin Itoshi is planning to break up with you.

You sat down at a swing in the park waiting for Rin.

An hour has passed after he messaged you, and he was still not at the park, you then thought positively about how Rin is probably being held up for interviews because of the victory of blue lock.

you saw a stray cat coming near you, and you gently picked it up as it purred when you petted the cat's head.

The park was silent, the only person was you (and the cat) and you were completely thinking about how Rin probably ditched you.

"Hey Mr. cat, do you think my boyfriend hates me?" you suddenly asked the cat, the cat then purred as you chuckled thinking how stupid you look talking about your boy problems to a literal cat.

"You see, i really love him, however i know that i'm a hindrance to his goal so i think it's time for us to break up" you continued talking to the cat.

"My boyfriend is the best, i love his smile and how passionate he is to football and i think i won't be needed in his future" you chuckled bitterly.

You then stood up from the swing, prepared to leave the park then suddenly you saw a figure running towards you.

And that was your boyfriend, The Rin Itoshi, who was now in front of you, still in his jersey, sweat beads going down his forehead as he looked into your eyes.

There was an awkward silence in the air, with Rin catching his breath, you decided to break the silence by speaking up "Rin, how are you? Congrats on winning the game!" you smiled genuinely.

"Y/n listen i—" Rin tried to talk to you.

"Let's break up, Rin" you smiled sadly.

"What...?" Rin replied genuinely shocked.

You closed your eyes, with the fear of getting the look of hatred from Rin as you spoke "Listen Rin, i know that you hate me, it's very obvious and i know i'm an hindrance to your goal in beating your brother, so it's okay and let's break up, thank you for being my boyfriend, Rin, Goodluck on your journey" you smiled, when you opened your eyes you saw something very shocking

You didn't expect the reaction from your boyfriends face when you said that, It was the first time you saw your boyfriend sad, looking like he was about to cry.

"W-What's wrong?" you replied in a panicked state, clearly not used to how rin expresses his emotions to you.

He then hugged you very tight, hands gripping your waist silently pleading for you to not let go, his head resting on your shoulder inhaling your sweet scent.

"I love you so fucking much, Please don't leave me"

— fanfic here

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with bakugo and a black cat girl

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fighting ig, idrk

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have had this request for like fifteen months lol but im finally doing it for my pookie's bday. Happy birthday ml 🫶 im posting it now so i dont forget lol

❀ he hates you at first sorry not sorry. bakugo just sees you as yet another one of those extras who happen to have an annoying tendency to fight with him. i feel like he might respect your tenacity but barely and he still hates your guts whoops

❀ on the topic of hatred, your other classmates half are jokingly shipping you and the other half are just wishing you two would stop fighting. mina is at the head of the shipping bandwagon especially after she read a book with rivals to lovers. todoroki might say he ships you guys only because he thinks it means he wants you two to get along lol

❀ your arguments would mostly be stupid shit like who rescued who, who did better on the assignment. you guys are rivals who also get into fistfights because why not.

❀ bakugo doesn't think much of your swearing problem because he's used to it by his mom. you're just another annoying person who happens to like using some naughty words all the time (him in girl form)

❀ i feel like the way you two get closer is kinda sad but also drama yay. basically mineta was being an S-class pervert and he was literally harassing you.

❀ and it made you uncomfortable so you started to fight back. bakugo doesn't find you until the aftermath, huddled in the corner of the dorm while trying to hide your tears

❀ he didn't know seeing someone cry could make his heart clench like that. But for some reason, seeing you all teary eyed and sad made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever made you like that

❀ as awkwardly as he can, he tries to comfort you. His large hand patting your back, not saying anything since words have never been his forte. He was used to using anger to battle his sadness, he didn't know how to help someone succumb to it.

❀ you guys sit there in comfortable silence until you explain to bakugo what happened. he'd always hated the little brat but now he was wishing he had uraraka's powers so he could throw mineta into space. how was the creep still in the hero course?

❀ lets just say the nice day mineta looked more like a cranberry than a grape

❀ you guys aren't particularly close after that but he does tend to notice you more which means his respect for you goes up. you're in combat training and you beat deku? fuck yeah he likes you now. even if you don't hate deku like he does he still thought it was awesome seeing you beat the daylights out of him.

❀ the moment he realized he liked you was when he almost lost you. by now hanging out was pretty regular for the two of you, even if bakugo would rather die than admit that he sees you as a friend. and since you guys spent time together he was around for whenever you got crushes...and told him about it.

❀ most of the time he would shrug it off, especially since half of your crushes were fictional and why would he care? he's not jealous! however you started falling for a boy in class 2b which (for some reason) was a major no go for bakugo. why would you want to date a stupid extra when he was right in front of you

❀ despite what everyone says he isn't the most emotionally constipated. it takes awhile yeah but i imagine he started going to therapy during the course of the show so he started to understand what feelings went where and etc

and one thing was for certain: this feeling was love.

❀ he started being a massive asshole after that. he went right back to always arguing with you or ignoring you completely. he might understand his feelings but that doesn't mean he knows how to handle them

❀ he was so wrapped up in his angry emoness that he didn't know you had stopped talking to the boy from class 2b, forgetting him entirely. he also failed to notice the hurt looks you'd give bakugo before you snapped right back into your harsh comebacks.

❀ the reason you guys even talk it out is during a simulation where the both of you get stuck inside rubble. you were both exhausted, dehydrated, and heartbroken.

❀ you just couldn't help but ask, "why do you hate me?" which basically broke his heart into a million little pieces. he couldn't help the way he admitted to his feelings, the way he handed you his heart in hopes you'd keep it safe...and safe you did.

❀ if you two as rivals were bad you two dating is even worse. you guys are the ultimate power couple, able to tear anybody down with a few well placed sneers and snorts.

❀ everybody either loves or hates you guys. mina obviously loves you guys even if you two are constantly arguing still plus with the added of you two tag teaming one person. she loves when she manifests things.

❀ you guys still have that silly banter and with your tempers. but now you guys made up your arguments with kisses and cuddles

❀ you guys aren't allowed to get paired together for assignments because you are either bickering or making out. and aizawa is too tired to try to stop it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[fwibblefwobble]

Tags: smut (mdni please), masturbation, voyeurism (but they want each other), internal angst on Jason's part

Jason Todd likes to think that he's gotten pretty good at emotional repression.

Occupation aside, life has taught him one very crucial thing-- don't get attached. Not to the nice elderly couple running the bodega downstairs, nor the young mother and her baby two doors down. Hell, not even the neighborhood strays that line the alleyway shortcuts. He steels his heart against the soft purr of a calico cat, hardens his gaze as he watches it saunter away after receiving an adequate amount of affection. Life giveth and taketh away, he thinks, grim as he continues forward. He won't be its victim. Not anymore.

You, however. You're different.

You're the first person he got to know when he decided to try and pursue a normal life. A desperate Craigslist roommate turned... friends, he thinks. You're the only indulgence he'll allow himself, anxiously reasoning in circles that every movie night or outing is to keep up appearances. All a part of being normal.

(You don't ask questions when he comes home visibly beaten and battered. You know everyone has to do what they must to survive in Gotham, and that Jason's not an exception.

Wordlessly, you tug him over to the sofa and break out the first aid kit, chatting mindlessly as you dress his wounds. He nods along, eyes fixed to the ground, happy enough just to listen.)

Despite this, he fights himself over you.

He hates the way his heart jumps when you lean in close, your warmth soothing over his skin like a balm. He hates the golden joy that spills from his chest when he makes you laugh, the stupid grin on his face when you banter on back and forth.

(He hates the way you make him do things that he shouldn't, like buying grocery store flowers and sweet treats just to see your face light up when he steps through the front door.

He hates the way you make him soft, like the boy he should've been.

He hates the way you make him feel alive.)

He lays awake in his bed, once again stuck in the cycle of bargaining and self hatred. The clock reads 1:15 when he begins to register sounds coming from your side of the wall. Your voice is muffled but breathy, shallow gasps in the dark of night. A nightmare, he reasons. He knows the feeling. Despite himself, he leans closer, propping himself against the wall with a feather-light touch.

Your breathing gets harder. You're whining against your hand, speech unintelligible but blissed out.

The realization makes him rigid.

He knows this isn't right. That he should remove himself from the wall, leave you to your own business. But he can't help the way your moans go straight to his cock.

He clenches his fists, digging his nails into his skin as he prays for the temperance to go away. It almost works, until one thing rings loud and clear.

"Jason."

[i-wanna-write]

Stupid Plan - Billy Butcher x Reader

Prompt: You hate Billy Butcher and you hate his stupid plans.

Wanting: 18+ ONLY. SMUT. Rough Smut. Choking. Mention of strangulation. It’s The Boys guys. Swearing. Lots of use of the word fuck. Some use of cunt. Mentions of blood and gore - again, it’s the Boys

Word Count: 3130

Disclaimer: I find all pics off google! This is the first ever Smut I’ve written. I’m so sorry if it’s trash!

————————————————————————

You hated Billy Butcher with every fiber of your being starting with the first moment met him. When you first met him all those years ago it was like mixing oil with water. Your boss at the CIA partnered the two of you together and you wanted to kill yourself then and there. Years of working with the foul-mouthed borderline rogue agent only further fueled your mutual hatred for one another.

You hated how he always called the shots and barely listened to your input when it came to planning. You hated how he was a shoot first ask questions later type of partner. You hated how his vulgar language never stopped even when talking to his superiors. Most of all, you hated how attracted to him you were.

Chocolate brown eyes, jet black hair, jaw scribbled with facial hair. His broad shoulders meant for gripping onto and an ass meant for grabbing.

You really hated him.

When he reached out to you years after leaving the CIA, you laughed in his face when he asked you to join him in taking down Supes. But his serious face didn’t falter and your laughing quickly stopped, now cursing yourself for hearing him out.

Not only did he rope you into this rag tag team, but he got Frenchie and M.M to join too. As well as baby face Hughie who just had an unlucky hand dealt to him.

That’s how you find yourself now, fuming in a silent car sandwiched between Frenchie and Hughie on your way to your underground hideout. Butcher is driving, M.M in the passenger's seat. The Frenchman has the window cracked with a cigarette hanging between his teeth while Hughie bounces his knee up and down in anxiety.

You can only imagine the tight grip Butcher has on the steering wheel. The thoughts of anger going through his head. His plan was a stupid one and you called him on that the minute he proposed the idea. But one dark look from him had you shutting up and rolling your eyes, going along with the stupid plan with the other boys.

Emphasis on stupid plan.

Your goal was to attend a Supes charity event to follow the lead on a Supe dealing Compound V. Rumor was that he was going to make a big appearance and donate a shit ton of money to the charity, allowing him to gain more favors with the public as he wanted to join the Seven.

That’s when the stupid plan started. Butcher had you and Frenchie pretend to be married, which was the first stupid idea he pitched. The Frenchman is your best friend but the two of you work together on missions as well as a cat and a dog. He gets too easily excited at the smallest bit of action while you always go into things level headed.

You two were dressed to impress, Frenchie in an expensive suit and yourself in a revealing cocktail dress. While the two of you were to mingle and pick up comments of where the guest of honor would be, the other three boys were to be scouting the hotel rooms looking for him based on the information you gathered.

So, with the first stupid idea being you pretending to be married to Frenchie, the second was the revealing dress. Because the guest of honor wasn’t out preparing in his hotel room. No, he was mingling with the crowd when his eyes landed on you.

You told Butcher that you being on the floor was not a good idea. That you were the exact type of woman this man was accused of fraternizing with. But did he listen? No. You felt like you were reliving your CIA days - half cocked plans, shoot first, questions later, deal with whatever mess you caused later.

You had to use the restroom and informed Frenchie you’d be back in a moment. The Frenchman merely nodded, turning his attention back to those around him. Another reason why you two should never be partners in this sort of thing. Because any other partner would have gone with you but Frenchie just gets too excited in these sorts of things.

That’s how you found yourself, alone and cornered in the women’s bathroom, the guest of honor not letting you escape. You whispered into your com to tell the boys, Butcher telling you to stall, that they’ll be there soon. You learned not to rely on Butcher early on

So when the boys entered the women’s room to find you covered in blood, the back of a toilet seat in hand, to say Butcher was pissed was an understatement. The Supe made one to many advances, not catching the hint. He backed you into a stall and the two of you began to fight, him eventually encircling his hands around your neck. Reaching for the only thing you could grab, you found the back of the toilet seat and bashed his head in, repeatedly

“I told you it was a stupid plan.” You said to Butcher, dropping the seat cover and stepping over the body to leave the restroom and head to the car

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car door being slammed and look up to see that you’re back to the hideout, Butcher already having exited. You sigh and get out on the same side as Frenchie, closing the door behind you.

“Dumbing fucking cunt.” Butcher mumbles as you five enter the hideout.

You roll your eyes and push pass everyone to enter the bathroom, needing to get the Supes’ blood off of you. You close the door behind you and stand in front of the mirror, looking at yourself.

Your face is speckled with blood and your eye is starting to bruise, purple peeking out through your naturally tan skin. Your hair that was once in a neat pulled back high pony is frizzy, strands falling out to frame your face. You notice light purple marks already beginning to form on your neck, showing signs of the strangulation you endured only an hour ago.

Clenching your fists, you turn on the water, steam rising to the mirror. You place your hands under it and scrub, wanting your blood and the Supes gone.

“Fucking Butcher.” You mumble to yourself. “Fucking stupid fucking plan.”

“Well maybe you should fucking listen for a change, aye?” A British voice says from your right.

You jump and turn towards the voice, seeing the large frame of one Billy Butcher in the bathroom, door shut behind him. You shut off the water and then turn towards him. His face his angry, his arms at his sides as you watch him clench and unclench his fists.

You let you a chuckle. “Me listen for a change?” You ask incredulously as you throw you hands up in the air. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Is it?” He asks, cocking his head to his side and bearing his teeth. “How’s that now?”

“Your fucking plan was fucking stupid to begin with and I. Told. You. That.” You take a step forward and point a finger into his chest to emphasize the last point.

“What’s stupid is you going of on your fucking own and being dumb enough to get fucking cornered by the fucking Supe.” Butcher yells back, smacking your hand away from his body.

“It was your genius idea to have Frenchie and I go in together - which I advised against!” You yell back just as loud.

Yelling feels good. The past months of putting up with Billy Butcher and his always right complex has finally taken its toll on you. You could put up with him in the CIA, really you could. There your goal was mutual and laid out in front of you. But now, now Butcher only seems to have his own agenda and never shares it with anyone.

“It was your brilliant idea to have me go in! When I fucking told you it was a bad. Fucking. Idea!” You scream.

“Well it was your brilliant idea to fucking bash the cunts head in, losing our lead on Compound V!”

Butcher's face is in yours, so close you can feel his breath against your lips. So badly do you want to punch the asshole. In fact, you want to take the back of this toilet off and bash his head in. Maybe than his plans won’t be as stupid as this one.

“You know what?” You ask, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m done.”

You move past Butcher, wanting to leave the bathroom, leave the hideout, leave this rag tag team. Your hand is on the door and opens it about 2 inches before it’s slammed shut. You feel Butcher’s body behind yours, his hand on the right side by your face.

“No.” He says gruffly, turning you around so you’re now facing him, back pressed against the door. “You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

You have had it. He’s been walking over the four of you for months and you’re done. It’s always his idea, his plans, his reasoning. Not anymore. Fuck this. Fuck the team. Fuck the Supes. And most importantly, fuck Billy Butcher.

“You know what? Fuck yo-“

You’re cut off by Butcher’s lips slamming into yours, his body pressing against you to pin you between him and the door. His lips move roughly, tasting of whiskey he probably took a swig of before following you in here.

You immediately respond, kissing back just as hard. Your lips move sloppily together, both of you so angry at the other you want the kiss to hurt. His hands are placed on your hips, gripping tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. You bring your hands up to his hair and yank hard, wanting to do the same damage back.

He tongue pries open your mouth and immediately finds yours, tracing over it. You give back the same intensity he is, using your mouth to fight him since your arms physically can’t. An idea forms in your head and you pull away slightly, grabbing his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down. Hard.

Butcher immediately pulls away and you use the opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaves up and down and your body is warm, you’re positive your flushed. Butcher looks the same, his breath coming out in pants, cheeks red, hair going in all different directions.

“Did you just fucking bite me,” he asks, his hand going up to his mouth to check for blood.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking cunt I would’ve been gentler.” You goad him.

You watch as his eyes darken and he’s immediately on you again, lips on yours. This time his hands are on your ass and he pushes up, signally what he wants you to do. Your arms grip his shoulders as you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Butcher immediately pins you back against the door and you pull away to gasp as you feel his hard cock against between your legs. Heat immediately rushes to your core and you shift slightly so it hits the right spot, brushing against your clit.

“Fuck Butcher.” You moan, hands moving down his body to reach the bottom of his shirt, wanting it off.

His hips press against you harder, causing you to throw your head back against the door. You watch through heavy eyelids as he removes his shirt in one go before finding your lips again. You didn’t even get the chance to admire his shirtless body, his hands tightly squeezing your ass as your own grip onto his shoulders.

You feel yourself begin to move and pull away to watch as he carries you a short distance to the sink, placing you atop it. He shoots you a quick grin before pulling at your dress, sliding it down your shoulders before his lips attach to your neck, trailing down.

“Ahhh.” Escapes you as he begins to suck on your pulse point, your hips bucking to once again feel his hard cock beneath his jeans against you.

He sucks harshly before biting down, his tongue then swirling along the mark that will be there tomorrow. While starting a new mark, his hands further pull down your dress, freeing your boobs from their constraints. Both hands grab them, fitting perfectly in his hands as he squeezes roughly.

“Fuck sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent.” Butcher mumbles against your neck before traveling lower.

His lips find one of your nipples, sucking and biting causing you to scrape your nails up his back and latch onto his shoulders. A sensation shoots down your body to your core and you buck your hips again, wishing his jeans were gone and he was already inside of you. One hand finds your free breast and squeezes the nipple tightly, another moan escaping you.

Sweat beads on your skin as his mouth switches its attention to your other nipple, his hand venturing further south before it meets your thigh. He bunches your dress up so it’s now only wrapped around your waist and presses a hand against your mound.

“Oh my God.” You groan as he pinches your clit, another sensation moving through your body.

“No underwear aye sweetheart?” Butcher starts, pulling away to look in your eyes. “If I knew you wanted me that bad all you had to do was ask.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck yo-“

But Butcher cuts you off again, this time because of his finger entering you. His thick digit moves in and out slowly, your core so wet it can easily slide. You slide one of your hands down to the front of his jeans, blindly searching for his button and zipper.

You feel his other hand touch yours, helping you get his cock free. You pull his jeans down just enough for it to escape and immediately grab it, noting how your whole hand can’t fit all the way around.

“Ah Fuck.” Butcher groans, his hips rocking to allow his cock to slide through your enclosed hand.

He adds a second finger and you throw your head back, eyes closed. He starts to set a pace and you try to follow it with your hand on his cock, your hips slightly rocking to the motion. His fingers curl up, finding the spot you desperately needed him to find.

“Fuck Butcher.” You gasp, your hips starting to increase their pace.

Only he immediately pulls his fingers out of you.

You open your eyes and begin to lift your head but stop as a hand wraps around your neck. Your body tenses, your gaze meets Butchers. His eyes are dark, face flushed and sweat coating his skin.

“You say my name when I’m inside of you.” He states, his grip tightening slightly to emphasize the demand before loosening.

You can only nod and that’s enough for him as he guides his cock into you. You gasp at the intrusion, his two fingers not even coming close to the size of his cock. You feel it stretching your walls and try to take in air as it touches every crevice inside of you.

Billy doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out before ramming back into you. You feel slight pain at the repeated intrusion but it quickly turns into only pleasure as he sets a fast and rough pace. His hand doesn’t leave your neck, his other tightly gripping your hip to hold you in place. Both of your hands grab onto his shoulders, squeezing tightly, nails digging into them again.

“Fuck Billy. Fuck.” You say as his cock reaches a deep place inside of you.

“How’s tha’ sweetheart?” He asks, his lips attacking your neck in kisses and bites. “This why you’re always such a bitch? Huh? Needed me to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You don’t respond. Instead, you move your hands to his head, guiding his lips to yours. You move just as roughly as before, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as you both try to fuck the fight out of each other.

Billy’s hand on your neck slides down to reach your clit, rubbing your juices over it. You pull your mouth away, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

“Fuck that. Look at me.” Billy starts, his hand leaving your clit to grab your chin roughly. “Look at this.” He guides your head down, your eyes watching as his cock exits and enters you, coated with your juices. “Look at how wet you are for me. How good my cock makes you feel. You like tha’ sweetheart?”

You nod, looking back up to meet his gaze, his brown eyes so dark they appear black. His hand returns to rub your clit and you stare into each other's eyes as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your panting breaths fill the room.

“Billy. I’m- I’m close.” You tell him, feeling that familiar sensation creep deep into your stomach.

Billy’s response isn’t verbal but you know he’s heard you as his pace picks up and he rubs your clit harder. You moan a little louder causing Billy to kiss you again.

“Don’t want the boys to have dinner and a show aye.” He grins as he pulls away.

His hips continue to snap, his cock sliding out of you only to hammer back in, hitting the deep part of you repeatedly. Your core begins to tighten and you squeeze your eyes shut as the familiar feeling starts to take over.

“Fuck, Billy. Shit. Billy.” You chant, the feeling now taking over.

Your eyes remain closed as your body tenses and you feel yourself come undone. Your channel squeezes his cock as it continues to move in and out of you, Billy not stopping as you ride your high. You hands latch onto his neck and you pull him back to a kiss as the feeling slowly begins to die down.

Billy feels you unclench and pulls out, his mouth still connected to yours as his hands pump himself once, twice, before he releases a groan against your lip as he cums onto your dress and stomach.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Billy says as he pulls away from your lips.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, both of you panting as you come down from your highs.

“It was still a stupid plan.” You whisper to him, a small smile on your lips.

Billy just gives a disbelieved laugh before leaning down to kiss you once more.

If all his stupid plans of the past ended like this, maybe you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do.

[uchi4nlog]

༺ 𓆩♡𓆪 𝅄 ׁ ˳ sweet relief , heeseung.

college student fem reader, college student hee ، wc: 3.4k ، genre: en2l, one side hatred, angstsy? ، tw: f word, suggestive but nothing explicit.

you throw your head back. whining in defeat. why does he have to make every single thing so difficult?

“so is it true, _____ …” — that grin making his words more annoying. “what one of your friends told me? you have a little crush on me? that’s why princess always act so mad around me?”, a pout form on his lips while trying to sound conceding.

blood pumping like crazy. you wanted to punch him right on his stomach and make him eat all of his ego back, “say shit like that again and i’m making you regret even being alive, lee heeseung.”

“awww, i was hoping for more of a sweet answer.”, whatever possessed this man today wasn’t going to give up so easily.

you and heeseung have always been like cat and dog, ever since your friend group decided to introduce the new ‘college taker’. you didn’t know how to pinpoint what exactly made you cautious and angry towards him. you just felt something really dangerous vibrating around his aura.

that’s when the news started to float around — “lee heeseung? that guy slept with a girl in my class and never looked at her face again.”, “one of my closest best friends told me he is the legitimately fuckboy. he’s friends with those frat boys that we saw one day at the bar. the ones who looked drunk af and were trying to hit on us.”

his reputation didn’t come as a surprise to you. you guess it was the way he always made sure to look at your eyes while speaking, the way his dark hair was meticulously messy, the way he cared himself as if every girl in the room was looking at him. — and as it might be true, you hated the overconfidence in him. it didn’t come as naturally. it came out as cocky, gross. 

“come on… no need to get shy now.”

“i don’t know if your brain is all scrambled, and that is the main reason why you’re so fucking annoying, but i never said that. whoever told you that is in serious need of help. and also, i know it wasn’t one of our friends because they’re pretty aware of my complete disaffection for you.”

heeseung acts as if he got hurt, “ouch! i was just trying to clear up a misunderstanding.”, acting all nonchalantly and using that stupid soft voice, with that stupid grin, with that stupid subtle arrogance. 

“fine. if you’re done clearing up your brain, excuse me. the guys are waiting for me.”, you say going towards the bathroom door.

“one last thing, _____.”, you look back with a painful expression, wondering what else that psycho has to tell you. 

he pulls you by your hips in one swift motion. you try your best to not lose your balance and let the rest of your dignity fly out of the window. heeseung lips come close to your ear and stays there. his breath causing a small thread of electricity to fall all over your body.

“so if i kissed you right now, it would mean nothing. right, princess? since i’m so dumb and so annoying to even know what i’m doing. i’m completely moved by my ‘south thoughts’. wasn’t that what you told everyone?”, he wants to tease and make you mad. he wants to leave you just a conscious away from punching him. 

his face moves from your ears going to your chest, leaving a trace of his lips from the middle to your cheek. “say you don’t want me. say you hate me so much to the point where you can’t resist kissing me.”

you couldn't move. your body was feeling in this ride or die situation. but it would not follow your inner rational voice screaming to run away. you… want this? you want him to kiss you? no! these are your three glasses far away from sobriety speaking. 

“i don’t have the whole night-”, your lips finally touch his. the kiss is messy and desperate. were you waiting for this moment? god, you really wish you wasn't. heeseung is no better. you feel it as he dances in your mouth. the electricity spread on your body seemed to have made it's way through his as well. your lips couldn’t be away even for a little. you both wanted more. more of what this unknown feeling was presenting to you.

but oxygen needs to come back to your respective bodies, so you separate the kiss only for a few seconds. and before going in again — because for now it seems like you’re addicted to heeseung’s mouth — the words fall out of your mouth.

“you look better without speaking.”

★ taglist: @sunoooism @itgirlgyu @mazeinthemoon @run4gyu @besciitos @lunathewritingcat @bamtorinrecs

★ status: requests closed and taglist currently open! send me an ask or comment to be added.

© gyuletters, 2024 - do not repost, copy, or translate. // rn im going through a very dangerous heeseung brainrot. and funny enough, im usually not the one to like enemies to lovers. i personally feel like its an excuse to make the male protagonists say mean shit and later apologize by admitting they were in love. but listen! one sided hatred is kinda my thing and im a sucker for teasing, as in both of the characters be teasing each other and see who breaks first. soooooooo i’ve decided to give it a try. i hope i’ve made justice to this trope. anywayssss tysm for reading this fic and for sticking around for my nonsensical rambling. ily more than you could imagine. 🤍

with love, 𝑟.

xoxo.

[revelboo]

What if Sunstreaker becomes like those dads who are like “we are NOT keeping that cat” but then a few days later the cat is in his lap and he’s their favorite person vis a vis the human

Grudgingly accepting the pet is now his pet.

Can't Finish What You Started Pt 2

Sunstreaker x Reader, Sideswipe x Reader

• How long has the thing been screeching and fighting like a mad thing to avoid Sideswipe holding it? Since it came online and while it’s slowing down, it’s still so noisy. After nearly dropping it three times, his twin had set it on a table and tried to corral it in his hands as it darted around in a useless attempt to avoid him. It’s leaking from its eyes, the sight unsettling as it almost falls with a cry to avoid Sideswipe’s clumsy attempts to catch it. Without meaning to, Sides is torturing the little thing.

• Growling under his breath, Sunstreaker shoves up from watching the stupidity. “I swear to Primus if you don’t shut that thing up, I will “ he snarls, fist thumping against the table and the impact knocks the human down. Big eyes stare up at him in very real fear, before it lowers its head. It’s still leaking. Still making that ragged, hitching sound that grates on him, but not screaming anymore. Venting in annoyance, he lowers himself back to his seat.

• Shuddering, you stay down. All the fight drained out of you, because while the huge red monster has tried to coax you into its hands, the yellow one? The way it glares at you like your very existence is an affront terrifies you. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Giant, alien robots that want who knew what with you. You don’t resist when Sideswipe curls his huge servos around you and lifts you, his grip a bit too tight. Almost bruising. The other one’s staring a hole in you. So much hatred you’re frozen. Then the one holding you tightens his grip.

• The human winces as Sideswipe picks it up, a little hand pushing weakly at his servo like he’s squeezing it and it’s in pain. Venting roughly, Sunstreaker runs a hand over his helm, because he’s almost sure Sideswipe is accidentally hurting it without meaning to. But that’s Sides, always so eager and impulsive. Wanting so badly to prove he doesn’t need looking after, that he’s not only self reliant, but that he can take care of another living thing. Because that’s what this silliness boils down to. Sideswipe proving a point.

• Making a funny little noise, the human shoves at his servo again, tiny fingers scrabbling at the mesh between his joints, the sensation eerie. “You’re crushing it to death,” Sunstreaker mutters, propping his chin on his fist to watch. He’s about to retort when he realizes how red its little face is and relaxes his grip. Gasping, it slumps against his servos and he can feel its little heart racing. He runs a shaky servo over the softness of its hair and it looks up it him with no small amount of fear. Fear of him.

• The giant, alien monster actually looks almost guilty as it finally relaxes its grip and you can breathe again. Because it hasn’t even realized how tightly it had been gripping you. How easy it can break your bones by accident. Lifting your head, you realize the other one is still frowning at you, glowing eyes glaring. But he’d said something. He’d realized his buddy was bending your ribs. Hurting you and stopped it. While the yellow one doesn’t like you at all, he’d protected you.

Previous Next

[gremlingottoosilly]

Omg omg your spitfire!reader is SAWR good😮‍💨

Need to see her wrecked because she thought insulting her horndog of a colonel while he's groping her was a good idea ,but hearing you call him a pervert while you're struggling in his hold just made him even more feral

It's like when you're trying to run from a dog but the dog thinks it's a game 😭

He had never felt so hot as when this pretty civilian expert was calling him a pervert while he literally had his hands down her panties. Konig knows you literally have no choice here - you can cry to HR, but no one would stop an important mission because pretty little cyber security/translator/psychologist girl is loved by her colonel. if anything, they would congratulate you on getting it on with the team - Konig is such a hard man to work with, after all, you should be proud for taking down his walls! You take down his walls, one by one - just as he explores your walls with his tongue. You pull him by his stupid mask, you kick him on his back when he drills his tongue deeper and deeper, burying his fingers into your thighs - but for fucks sake, it's like prying a cat from a very juicy peace of meat. You hate him, you hate him, you want to tell it to everyone who is willing to listen - your colonel is an asshole that hides behind his quiet persona and uses it to rile you up even more. Konig is so good at acting innocent, you can't even fight him without alerting any other recruit. You shouldn't have any connections with the colonel, but no one questions his interest - the mission is important and you're one of its parts, so it's only natural the commander spends a lot of time in your office, right? Other recruits know about your disdain, but you should be smart enough to hide it from the colonel himself...except that he literally relishes in your hatred. It's a sport for him, to make you cum on his fingers, to make you soft and pliable in his hands. Kiss you ever so softly, hold you gently, like a precious treasure, as you yell at him and tell him to go away and die on a mission. You can kick him as many times as possible, he would just add a few more spanks to your butt for the next time he decides to be less merciful with his little spitfire.

[rninies]

✮ idiotic love - gojo satoru

synopsis: gojo satoru annoys the hell out of you.

warnings: fluff, gn!reader, chaotic couple lol — wc: 698

notes: this is not enemies to lovers but one sided hatred LMFAO

you and gojo satoru have been incompatible ever since you met him. it’s not like he’s ever said anything mean to you, but it’s because he annoys the hell out of you. every little thing he does makes you just want to punch him in the face. shoko and suguru have already seen the way you two bicker every time you see each other, and it is safe to say they are tired of it.

as fate wants, you and satoru have been picked to go grocery shopping together. jujutsu high requires a snack restock, and as unlucky as you are, you picked the short end of the stick. when satoru looks at the face you made when you pull the short stick, he laughs out loud, doubling over.

“are you laughing at me?” you asked, clenching the stick so hard in your hand that it almost breaks.

“yeah, i am. what are you going to do about it?” satoru says with an annoying smile on his face.

the irked you for some reason. “wipe that smile off your face before i do it for you.” you throw the stick at satoru, crossing your arms. “who got the other one?” when satoru lifts his hand up, you immediately shake your head. “no. no way. i am not going to the grocery store with him.” you gave shoko a pleading look, begging her to switch with you but all she did was shrug.

“sorry, y/n.” she apologizes half-heartedly.

“sugu?” you turn to look at him and he shakes his head, leaving before you can ask him. “you traitor!”

“hey come on. grocery shopping with me is fun.” satoru slings an arm over your shoulder. you flinched, surprised, and immediately moved away from him. “come on. the kids are waiting.” he winks and starts walking away. you groan before catching up to him.

the first two minutes were filled with silence, which was weird for satoru because he always wanted to talk to you. the silence… feels weird. you were used to a loud satoru, so a quiet satoru just… creeps you out for some reason.

“are you okay?” you asked, and satoru hummed in reply.

“mm, could be better,” he mumbles. however, he suddenly stops, making you shocked. “actually, no. i’m not okay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “what? what’s wrong?”

“this is so frustrating.” satoru scratches the back of his neck and then drops his hand frustratedly. “this question has been on my mind ever since we met, okay? why do you hate me so much?”

“what?” you paused, not knowing what to answer. why do you hate satoru so much? “you want an answer right now?”

“yes, please.” satoru crosses his arms, waiting for your answer.

“it’s the way you annoy me all the time. the way you always have to show off your stupid infinity power by using it whenever i try to throw a pillow at your way. it’s the way your stupidly handsome face is constantly on my mind!” you exclaimed, but then you immediately covered your mouth, realizing what you had just said.

satoru blinks and then smiles, shaking his head. “ah, so you have a crush on me?”

“no!” you wave your hand in front of his face, turning red. “no! i don’t like you! don’t get the wrong idea! i just-”

“nu-uh. you have a crush on me.” a smug smile is evident on his face and you immediately slapped yourself mentally. “the person who has been clearly hating me since the start has a crush on me.”

“stop! no! i didn’t say that! stop, you’re delusional. i do not have a crush-” satoru cuts you off with a kiss. your eyes widened when you felt his soft lips on yours. when satoru pulled away, you couldn’t move or say anything.

“cat got your tongue?” satoru smirks, he places a finger under your chin and squishes both of your cheeks. “come on. say something.”

“you-” you stuttered before turning around and start walking. “i hate you!”

satoru looks at you in shock before laughing, catching up with you with ease. his hand intertwine with yours, squeezing it. “i love you too.”

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3

[yestrday]

"This hurts."

Zhongli sips on his tea, looking unbothered by your incessant whining, even smiling to himself when you beg him to let you off practice today. Xiao, who's been standing guard this whole time, has been pointedly avoiding your pleading looks. Clearly, Zhongli has given him a warning not to indulge you.

"Zhongli, please," you whine again, voice higher in pitch as you hope to annoy him to the point of sending you away. "My entire body hurts. Can't we just reschedule this tomorrow?"

"Procrastination rusts determination, my dear," Zhongli hums, finally putting the teacup down. The large dragon tail protruding from his lower spine is slinking back and forth on the ground, and if Aether's observation that that is an equivalent of a dog's happy wag, then that means the bastard is enjoying your suffering. "Your father told me to fix you up before your first apperance at a gala and I have a contract to fulfill. Besides—" He fixes you with a firm golden gaze. "— You decided for yourself to finally go back into the public."

You wince at the reminder, regret building up the more you attend these lessons. Despite the good life you've had spending your days as a recluse with your family of hybrids, you had decided one day that this wasn't how you should live your life. So when your deadbeat dad reached out to you about a charity gala, you agreed quicker than you thought about it. And here you were, suffering the consequences with sore feet and numb arms and trembling fingers. Did going out into public really warrant posture and balance exercises and etiquette lessons?

You wanted out. Out! Ayato's already been a drain on your energy with his morning lecture about conversation starters and conversation, scaring your whines away whenever he thumps his spiny tail on the floor or opens his mouth just for the rows of sharp teeth inside to glint at you. Although Zhongli's an old, soft soul who'd never harm you, you were still tired!

"Once more." Zhongli instructed. "Balance those books and walk a straight line from here to there. Begin."

With a small grumble to yourself, you balance the small stack of books on your head and begin. But these things just keep slipping off, and you're half-tempted to say that this isn't your fault anymore and it's their stupid shiny covers. They slip from your head again and you glare at the scattered books with the hatred of a thousand damned souls.

"Zhongli..." you whimper as pitifully as you can. The dragon only shakes his head and motions to the books for you to pick up again. Your downcast expression has clearly struck a nerve in Xiao's heart, with the way he keeps hesitantly stealing glances at you, but he's cowed by a knowing gaze from Zhongli.

"While I approve of practicing, I believe that all hard work entails some sort of break, no?" A stoic yet gentle voice interrupts from the doorway and your face lightens up at Neuvillette. "Apologies for my intrusion, but I've caught wind from a certain cat that our master is in need of a break."

"Neuvi!" You gleefully shout, rushing over to him and eyeing the dessert platter he's balancing on his hand. "Did Aether tell you? Are those for me?!" When he nods, his eyes crinkle in fondness when you squeal in delight, and his tail slinks left and right on the ground. "Neuvi...! You're the best! I've been held captive here for hours!"

"Well," the water dragon huffs out a laugh as you gorge yourself on macarons. "That is to be expected of such kinds of dragons."

"It's for their own good," Zhongli tightly says, meeting the other dragon's challenging gaze. "It's best to fix them up before they attend the gala rather than indulging them to garner favor."

There is an impatient thumping on the floor, coming both from Neuvi and Zhongli. Both of them maintain their stoic composure, but the tips of Zhongli's fingers begin to tint gold and black, while cold blue scales creep up Neuvi's neck. Their reptilian eyes never break away from each other, slowly morphing into pinprick ones as they begin to devour each other whole with—

"Mmm, that's good," you hum, picking up a macaron and running off to Xiao. "Hey~ Want one?"

Xiao smiles faintly, taking the pastel dessert from your hand and gently patting your hair. He thanks you, and slowly eating it so he can show you how grateful he is. (His golden eyes are darting frantically between his master and Neuvillette and tries not to look too eager when he's munching.) "It's very good." He gives a slight bow towards Neuvillette too. "Thank you too, sir Neuvillette," he says, like the polite man he is.

Neuvillette regards him with less hostility than he does towards his fellow dragon. But he frowns a bit when he sees the small arrogant smile on Zhongli's face when he sees his subordinate getting along wth you. He scoffs.

"If your teacher here is still giving you a hard time, you can always come to me for help," Neuvillette murmurs, just loud enough to provoke Zhongli. He wraps his scaly tail around your leg and brings you closer. "I'll promise to instill the grace you need before the gala minus all the nonsense."

You giggle when his gentle touch tickles your cheek before he tucks a hair behind your ear. Kissing you gently on the forehead, he pulls away with a slight smile. "Good luck, dear." He glances behind you, and wearing a satisfied expression, he closes the door shut.

You're suddenly aware of the tension in the air and you turn around to see Zhongli with closed eyes. His black-brown hands, looking like they've been dipped in gold, clench the arms of the chairs tightly. He lets out a slow exhale and opens his eyes just in time for you to see those cold slits revert to the warm brown human ones.

"Zhongli...?" You ask cautiously, taking a careful step forward. You knew dragons were territorial, but you didn't think that Zhongli would react this way. He was normally so... father-like to all the other hybrids.

"Nothing, my dear." He stands up and holds you a bit tightly by the hand. He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket, all embroidered and silken and as elegant as he is, and rubs away something on the spot Neuvi kissed you. "Just some dirt, thats all."

Gently, he puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you to the chair in front of him. Xiao wordlessly pulls it back and sits you down.

"Come now, have a rest and let's finish these snacks before you start again, hm?"

[words-4u]

don’t shut me out

pairing: jordan li x f!reader

wc: 750

a/n: i combined the two requests bc they felt kinda similar but i hope you guys enjoy <3

(NOTE: your super power is the ability to transform into any animal you want)

you stared at the last message you sent jordan.

to j 💗 i miss u. text me when u see this pls

you had sent that text at 8 pm last night and it was almost noon the next day and you still hadn't heard back from them. sighing deeply, you locked your phone, stuffing it in to your backpack.

is it me? did i do something? you thought.

it might seem over the top reacting this way but jordan is so communicative especially at night so it was off brand for them to go ghost like this. you were going through the different possibilities in your head as walked the god u campus to get to your next class, you had almost missed your friend calling your name.

“hey, y/n!” 

you looked up and saw cate beckoning you over to a table she’s at with andre.

“hey guys,” you said with no excitement which the blonde found weird.

“did your cat die or something? what’s up?” she asked patting the seat in between her and andre.

you huffed and set your bag on the table and your head on andre’s shoulder.

“okay this is gonna sound so stupid but i’ve been texting jordan all night and all morning today and i haven’t heard so much as a peep from them. i know the messages are going through, i just don't know why they're ignoring me”

“oh y/n. you haven’t heard,” andre begins. ”jordan’s parents are in town. we don’t know much about them but we know they are jordan’s least favourite topic.”

“i mean they’ve told me the basics but…” you trail off.

if their parents are in town then that explain why they’ve been so hard to reach. jordan's parents have never understood them and always made them feel ashamed of their powers which is ridiculous because they are ones who’ve injected their kid with compound V.

"guys i’ve got to go,” you said grabbing your bags and transforming into an eagle, flying off to jordan's student accommodation.

you knock rapidly on your partner’s door, once you arrived. “jordan, open up!”

silence.

you grabbed your vphone out of your bag and checked the “find my” app. “i can literally see that you’re in there so either you open this door and let me in or i turn into a snake and slither in… your choice.”

you hear some metal clanging and something unlocked and in a second you were faced with your gorgeous significant other who looked like they have been crying their eyes out.

no words needed to be said between you before you dropped your bag and pulled them into your arms, rocking them side to side.

you let a few moments pass before you spoke. “why didn't you just tell me?”

“i’m sorry,” they said pulling away. “i fall into this pit of self hatred when my parents come around.”

you guided them to the bed and played with their fingers as you shared your thoughts. “you know i thought you were ignoring cause i might've done something to piss you off or something…”

“no, baby” they whispered. “it’s not you. like at all. it’s them. they… they’ve never accepted my full powers. the girl version anyway. to my parents, i’m their golden boy and nothing else. i came to god u and swore that i would never feel ashamed of myself and would never be forced to choose one gender like my parents desperately want.”

“that’s a lot to carry by yourself, jord,” you move their short black bob out of their face and tuck it behind their ear. “i’m here if you ever need to talk. about any of it.”

“i know,” they smiled softly.

“and for what it’s worth i like…all of you,” you confessed which made jordan put on their sexy grin that you fell for.

“is that right? and which parts of me do you like?” they asked switching to their male form and placing you on their lap.

“hmm now that i think about it, i actually can’t remember,” you stroked your chin jokingly.

“how about i make you remember?” they replied, capturing your lips in an over due kiss. you breathe them in as you run your hands through their short hair.

you pulled away still holding their face in your hands. “promise to tell me when things bother you, big or small okay? i don’t want you to shut me out.”

jordan nodded, whispering, “i promise,” before kissing you once more.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Not Too Late

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Swearing, a tiny bit of violence, sexual and also little violent choking, implied smut at the end.

✧.* Summary - Miguel knew from the moment he laid eyes on her, she would cause a lot of trouble for him...

✧.* Extra - Reader is a variant of Black Cat. Also I was listening to Not Too Late by Kali Uchis while writing this so... do what you want with that.

✧.* Word Count - 1,012

Miguel has dealt with many creatures, bad guys, and anti-heroes in his life being in places where they shouldn't, but there was one specific situation that he couldn't get rid of. He was utterly confused as to why he couldn't simply send her home just like the others. According to him, she was annoying, arrogant, sneaky, infuriating, and downright a bitch. Lyla would always tell him to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he always just rolls his eyes whenever the hologram tells him that.

"If you hate Y/N so much, then why don't you send her back home?"

He always hears that question over and over again whenever he unknowingly goes on rants about her. Most of the time Miguel ignores the question or makes up a stupid excuse about her being useful in certain missions. He knew his excuses were bullshit. He would never send Y/N on any missions because he "doesn't trust her".

Yet, that little voice inside his head couldn't help but admire Y/N. She is an insanely strong human being. Good with sneaking around, had excellent vision and balance, had a unique ability to alter bad luck, attractive, plush thighs, plump lips, and soft skin. Miguel hated whenever he would think of something positive about Y/N, but he couldn't help it.

Some would think that Miguel's "hatred" for Y/N was love in disguise. Lyla would poke at him for "secretly being in love with Y/N". No matter how many times he would deny it, the little voice in the back of his head would only laugh at him denying it. There are moments Miguel would think about Y/N; how she would look outside of her tight latex suit, waiting for him in bed, ready for him to fuck her. But no matter how many times he would think of her that way, he would express his feelings of hatred towards her to the public.

She had sex appeal and he couldn't deny it. And if there was a chance, he would fuck her.

Y/N was a one-of-a-kind woman. The moment she laid her eyes on Miguel, she knew she had found the one... to pick at. She loved getting under his skin. Why? According to her, it was hot whenever he looked like he was on the verge of beating the shit out of her. She also loved arguing with him. It didn't matter the topic. She just loved the way he would raise his voice at her.

Y/N knew Miguel had sex appeal. She would do anything to get dicked down by him.

Well, luckily for Y/N, she was stuck in one of the situations where Miguel was mad at her. It all started when Miguel sensed her presence in his working headroom.

"Get out, L/N."

Y/N could only smirk, "Oh, but why would I do that, O'hara?" Y/n walked closer to him and stopped once she was about 2-3 feet away from him. He was looking at whatever boring multiverse task he needed to concentrate on with his back turned to her.

"Because I don't want you in here distracting me. Go bother someone else." He stated with annoyance in his voice.

"Why are you always so miserable, Miguel? The Spiderman on my earth is always open to listen to my jokes and have fun." Y/N said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel could only roll his eyes, "Then go to that Spiderman and leave me alone."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. She hated whenever he would say something like that because truth be told, she didn't really like hanging out with the other spider-people. Unless it was Jessica, Hobie, Peter B, or Gwen. She always wanted to be around Miguel because she loved messing with him.

Suddenly, she got an idea in her head. An idea that she knew would piss him off.

"I hope you know a lot of the spiders are running around, spreading that you have a little crush on me. And that's the reason why you won't kick me out because you secretly love being around me." Y/N imparted.

Miguel paused what he was doing, and his eyes became slightly wider. His entire world seems to have fallen apart, but why? He pretends to despise her, but does he also have romantic feelings for her that he is unaware of? Why was it so important to him that she told him that? Miguel turned around to look at Y/N.

"From the look on your face, I can see that-"

"Who is spreading this misinformation?" he asked in a demanding tone. Y/N could only smirk.

"Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face and-"

"That doesn't matter," she walked closer to him and started rubbing her fingers up and down his muscular arm, "It's okay to admit you love and need me. I know things could get a little lonely down here and-" but before Y/N could finish her sentence, Miguel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her on his table. (Lyla calls it his working table. ) Not too hard to hurt her, but to force her where she needed to be.

That was the moment he realized he was done hating. He was done ignoring the fact he was attracted to her. He was done ignoring the fact that there was always sexual tension between them. He wanted to shut her up and destroy her. Make her a whimpering and moaning mess because of him. He was finally happy to release all of his sexual frustration and anger on her body.

He got on top of her and started zipping down the zipper to her suit, exposing her tits and the black panties she wore underneath. He started to lower himself to the same level as her pussy and looked up at her with those venomous eyes. He started to slowly remove her panties and smirked at her reaction.

"Maybe this will finally shut you up."

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

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