#that always has to put up with my annoying ass

[xcherryc2x]

Don’t have enough energy to ride…no problem! Your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru has some solutions

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Gojo x femreader Word count: 1.1k

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

“yeah yeah just like that baby” he says as he tries to follow the movements of your hips bouncing up and down on his swollen cock. You could tell he was getting impatient, you were going too slow.

Gojo wanted you to do reverse cowgirl today…

“D-don’t stop…just keep going” between moans and whimpers he squeezes your hips as you feel his whole body getting sticky.

You reach your arms back for support and hold on to his wrists and keep moving. You feel your legs giving up and you get slower

“Fuck…faster p-please” he groans

“Gojo…I can’t, I’m tired”

You feel his huge dick inside of you, taking up all the space in you. The sounds of both of you fucking are the result of his throbbing, girthy dick getting slammed into your wet cunt.

your thighs are starting to burn. You really don’t think you can make him finish. You were close but not completely

You look back to see Gojo’s face and you know he’s getting really annoyed. You already came twice and your boyfriend just keeps leaking precum

“fuck this” he mutters and in one swift movement he wraps his big hand around your waist flipping you under him.

Now your face down, arching your back while your pussy pulses, waiting for his dick to fill you up again

His precum is all over your inner thighs and your cum is still dripping down your wet folds.

He slaps your ass making you yelp like a puppy

He grins as he slides his dick right into your pussy where it belongs

“now …*squelch I ..can *squelch* fuck…you…*how..you..ngh..I like it”

He’s thrusting into you real hard. Making up for the short timed effort you put in to riding his thick cock

Your moaning gets louder and louder, any minute now you’re about to feel the sweet sensation of cumming once again from Gojo’s cock deep in you.

“Cmon baby, I know you wanna come…that’s it…let’s try do it at the same time” his face plastered with a mocking smile. You always cum before Gojo and he likes to remind you all the time about it.

His dick reaches deeper and deeper into you each time, you feel as if he’s gonna rip you apart. He’s messing up your insides and really fucking with your head.

The tone of his voice isn’t matching with his actions, he’s being aggressive and needy, the way he tightly grips on to your love handles will definitely leave marks. But his voice is filled with affection and love, making you compelled to listen

He’s fucking you so good you have no choice but to take it and just wait for him to him release his seed into you. You estimate he’s about to reach that point.

“Mmmmnggghh…my princess c-can’t do anything by herself can she”

“N-no daddy”

you spread my legs a bit more as you feel them giving in once again. Having sex with Gojo almost eveyday is one hell of a workout

Luckily just then, his hot cum makes its presence in your hole. There’s so much of it it’s already gushing out. His deep breaths exaggerate as he he pulls his cum covered cock out of you.

Just as you think it’s over…he pulls your hair jerking you back toward him. You could say it hurt a little but oh God you wouldn’t miss the view you saw for anything

You could see his face flushed, sweaty and eyes still wanting more. His upper body was perfectly sculpted, buff arms holding your lower body to pound into

Oh he was really gonna break you today. Your back already hurt from all this you don’t think you could take more

“Daddy it h-hurts…no m-more”

After you said that, he laughs a little under his breath, guiding his dick right back into your pussy.

“can’t let any of that spill out baby”

He keeps talking about how he’s sorry but he just can’t stop.. your brain can’t focus enough to listen. Your boyfriend loves to ramble on as he makes you scream

his dick had softened just a bit after cumming but it’s rock hard throbbing inside of you after just a few seconds. You feel it grow inside😊

Your poor butt is also red and stinging from his spanking. Your a bit confused as to why he hasn’t started thrusting again.

His hand reaches to your pussy and he pats it. You flinch from the pressure of his hands. Everything of his, is big, like his hands, his muscles, his stamina ….his monster dick.

You can’t handle him touching the outside while his dick is inside.

He plays around a bit then placing his middle finger on your clit, rubbing it.

Your muscles tighten there, allowing your inner walls to close in more on his fat cock. His veins so prominent, you can basically feel your interior molding around them

You shamelessly let out more noises, music to Gojo’s ears. Your hands grip the sheets as he continues to play with your pussy as he pleases…waiting for you to beg him to just fuck you again instead of teasing you mercilessly

“you ready to have another load shoot up this pretty pussy of yours”

You nod your head desperately, your legs shaking, the way he plays with your clit always allows you to give in to him.

“y-yes” you speak quietly

“yes what?”

“yes daddy…fill me up again”

he did not even take a second to start violating the hell out of your abused cunt. Your mind getting clouded by the repeated thrusting at an increased speed.

You think you just had another orgasm. But it’s not like your boyfriend cares enoguh to stop and let you take a second to recover again. He just wants to keep pounding into you. Filling your hole up to the brim with his special fluid

You actually think you might pass out but the way his dick opens up your insides keeps you thinking about how lose your hole might get after this is over

“S-so close” gojo whispers to you as he keeps pressing his heavy dick into you

You are so grateful once you feel another round of his fresh cum inside of you. Filling up the deepest part of you. Gojo has definitely bruised your cervix

It felt like too much. He had been producing a lot more cum these days…even when he takes his dick out, the fullness that you feel remains

“Gojo..it feels weird”

“Oh, does it now?” He says in a mocking tone

The whole room was humid and your bodies were covered in cum and sweat.

But once Gojo gets started there is no stopping him, he can’t get enough of your pussy swallowing him whole constantly.

So you are a good girlfriend and give up on trying to tell him to slow down or give you a break from fucking you harder and harder all night long.

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[yooniivrse]

moving in | myg

summary. in which moving in together isn't as simple as it seems, but no task is herculean with yoongi by your side

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, angst if you read this with a magnifying glass

word count: 3k

content: oc and yoongi finally move in together / yoongi is the sweetest but oc also wants to kick is ass half the time

warnings: none :3

notes: i'm back from my break, did you guys miss me :> this was inspired by an ask by an anon which you can find here (tysm anon ur amazing). likes, reblogs, comments and feedback is always so so appreciated. enjoy my loves!

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taglist | click here to join:

@petals4bangtan @futuristicenemychaos

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Privacy was a luxury in Yoongi's dorm. You had known this from the moment you first started visiting him here—how his space, while technically his, was never truly his own. There was always a member walking past his bedroom door, the faint hum of conversations drifting in from the common area, or the occasional loud clang from the kitchen at midnight.

You never minded it too much—at least, that’s what you have always told yourself. But when Namjoon walks in unannounced for the third time this evening, catching you and Yoongi curled up on the bed, you let out an exaggerated groan.

“You guys ever knock?” you tease, though there is a tired edge to your voice.

Namjoon blinked, looking apologetic as he took a step back. “Oh—uh, my bad. Was just looking for my headphones.”

Yoongi sighs next to you. He shifts his body, pulling his hand away from your waist to rest it under his head. “They’re in the studio, hyung,” he mutters without even opening his eyes.

Namjoon makes a face of realisation before nodding. “Rightt. Thanks, man.” He disappears just as quickly as he had entered, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

You sigh, turning your body and draping your arm across your boyfriend. “You know, for a bunch of guys who's lived together for this long, you’d think knocking would come naturally.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound deep and low. “You’d think.”

It's annoying when you can't even have the few days that Yoongi isn't burying himself with work to yourself completely. But though Yoongi agrees with your sentiment about his members, you know that you're roommates aren't much better.

You lean into his side, nestling yourself against his warmth as you put your thoughts to the side. His arm automatically drapes over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. The silence that follows is comfortable, lulling you into a sense of ease—until Yoongi speaks again.

“You know,” he starts, voice lazy but thoughtful, “we’d have more privacy if we moved out together.”

The words send a jolt of awareness through you.

You stiffen slightly but don’t pull away, choosing instead to focus on the way his fingers trace slow circles against your wrist. He has mentioned this before—moving out. Not just for himself, but for the both of you. You have always brushed it off, too scared to give it serious thought.

“I dunno…” you mutter, eyes flickering up to the jagged ceiling.

The shift in the air was subtle, but you feel it immediately. Yoongi’s fingers still, and when you chance a glance up at him, you notice how his expression has hardened slightly, his jaw tight.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” His tone isn’t harsh—it never is when it comes to you—but there was something pointed about it.

“I mean…” You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I just—I haven’t really thought about it seriously, I guess.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply right away. He just watches you, his dark eyes scanning your face like he's trying to read between the lines. “You haven’t?”

You swallow. “I mean, I have, but—”

“But?”

There is no malice in his voice, but the weight of his gaze makes you squirm. You exhale slowly.

"But...I don't know."

You're awfully conscious of the way Yoongi's chest moves up and down with every breath; awfully conscious of how his heartbeat is lost to the sound of your own nervous thoughts.

"Oh."

You expect him to continue speaking, but he doesn't, instead choosing to let the silence hang in the air.

The last thing you want is to hurt him in any shape or form, but you know you'll sound stupid if you put your thoughts into words. This isn't the first time Yoongi has brought up the idea of moving out together, and you've managed to evade giving him an answer every time. But the quiet drags on, becoming unbearable with the second and you give in.

“Yoongi, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t want to seem completely dependent on you.”

His eyebrows twitch. “What?”

“I mean, you already do so much for me,” you admit, fidgeting with the fabric of your hoodie. “I don’t want you thinking I can’t handle things on my own.”

Yoongi lets out a sharp breath, his head tilting slightly as he processes your words. “You think I’d care about that?”

You shrug, feeling silly. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi scoffs lightly, shaking his head. “You do realise I’m the one who keeps asking you to move in, right? It’s not like I feel obligated or something. I want you there.”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, but…”

His gaze flickers with something unreadable. “But what? If you genuinely don't like the idea, just tell me. I won't be offended.”

Yoongi would definitely be offended. Well, offended isn't the word he would use, but he'd be disappointed. It's a big deal for him to actually want to spend most of his days with someone who he knows he won't find himself constantly drained around.

But the last thing Yoongi wants is for you to be uncomfortable. Even if it stung a bit, he'd understand because it's you. He'd do anything for you.

You sigh. “I also don’t want you to get doxed or harassed because of me. What if someone spots us? What if it turns into a whole thing?”

Yoongi doesn't react right away. He simply watches you, his fingers tightening slightly around your wrist before he exhales. “You really think I’d let that stop me?”

You shift. “And besides,” you add quietly, “you’ve told me before that you need your own space—that people overstaying annoys you.” You glance up at him hesitantly. “What if I annoy you?”

Yoongi blinks. His lips part slightly, as if he's surprised you even had that thought. For a moment, he just stares at you.

“That’s different,” he said.

“How?”

“Because it’s you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I like having my own space,” he continues, voice softer now. “But I also like coming home to you. And yeah, people overstaying annoys me, but when have I ever wanted you to leave?”

You think back to all the times you've gotten up to leave his studio, only for him to pull you back down beside him. The times you’ve texted him that you were heading home from the dorms, only for him to insist you stay just a little longer.

Never.

The answer was never.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, the door swings open again.

This time, it's Taehyung.

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi groans, running his hand through his hair.

Taehyung blinks. “Uh—was just looking for my hoodie. My bad.”

As the door clicks shut once more, Yoongi turns back to you, deadpan. “If that’s not proof that we need to move out, I don’t know what is.”

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh.

“…Fine,” you mutter.

Yoongi’s eyes glint. “Fine?”

You sigh. “Fine. Let’s move out.”

A slow, satisfied smirk stretches across his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Because I already started looking at apartments.”

Your eyes widen. “Yoongi—”

He just grins, turning to fully wrap his hands around your figure.

────

Moving day comes a lot faster than you expect it to.

It's overwhelming, not just because of the sheer number of boxes but because of what those boxes mean. This isn’t just another visit to Yoongi’s place, nor is it a temporary stay.

This is different. Permanent.

And that scares you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, has been frustratingly calm about the whole thing.

He stands next to you in the elevator, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, looking completely at ease. Meanwhile, your heart pounds against your ribs as the floors tick past one by one. You fiddle with the keys in your hand, the ones Yoongi had given you just this morning.

“This is really happening, huh?” you murmur, half to yourself.

Yoongi glances down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You sound surprised.”

You exhale. “I am.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” You hesitate. “It just feels surreal. Like, we’re actually moving in together. That’s a big deal.”

Yoongi hums in agreement but doesn’t seem nearly as fazed as you are. If anything, he looks… content. Maybe even excited, in his own quiet way.

The elevator doors ding open, revealing a long, well-lit hallway.

Yoongi leads the way, his stride casual, as if he has already memorised the path. When you finally reach the apartment door, he gestures towards the keys in your hand.

“Go on,” he says. “The first time opening the door should be yours.”

You glance at him, then at the door, suddenly feeling the weight of this moment settle over you.

Taking a breath, you slid the key into the lock and turned it. The mechanism clicks smoothly, the door creaking open to reveal your new home.

The first thing you notice is the vast emptiness that fills the walls.

The apartment itself is beautiful—modest yet modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows that bathe the space in natural light. The hardwood floors gleam under the afternoon sun, and the walls, still bare, seem to echo your movements as you step inside.

But there was nothing here. No furniture, no decorations, just an open space waiting to be filled.

You swallow, feeling oddly displaced. Everything is so...hollow. It's eerie.

Yoongi, again, seems unfazed. He steps past you, kicking off his shoes and letting out a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” he muses, glancing around. “I forgot how much I liked empty spaces.”

You stare at him. “Are you serious? It’s so… bare.”

Yoongi smirks. “Exactly.”

You groan, setting your bag down. “Okay, well, you might be comfortable living like some kind of minimalist monk, but I need furniture.”

He chuckles, watching as you wander further into the apartment. You run your fingers along the smooth countertop of the kitchen island and sneak a peak into the—unfortunately empty—fridge, before making your way to the bedroom.

The bedroom is the emptiest of all.

The only thing in there is a single mattress on the floor, still wrapped in plastic. No bed frame, no pillows—just the sad, lonely mattress sitting in the middle of an otherwise vacant room.

You turn to Yoongi, unimpressed.

“Really?”

Yoongi grins. “It’s temporary.”

“You didn’t even get pillows?”

“I forgot.”

You sigh dramatically, placing your hands on your hips. “You know, for someone who planned this whole move, you’re really underprepared.”

Yoongi shrugs. “We’ll manage.”

You shake your head with a fond smile before wandering back into the main living space. It's strange—this apartment was supposed to be yours now, but it still feels so foreign. Like you're just visiting.

As if sensing your unease, Yoongi comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’ll get used to it,” he murmurs.

You lean into him instinctively. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His voice was warm, reassuring. “It’s just a space right now. We’ll make it a home.”

You exhale, feeling the tension in your chest loosen just a little.

For now, this is enough.

By the time the sun has set, exhaustion has settled deep into your bones. The day had been spent moving the essentials—clothes, toiletries, a few kitchen items—and while you haven’t even scratched the surface of fully furnishing the place, it already feels like you have done enough heavy lifting for a week.

Now, standing in the still near-empty bedroom, all you want is to curl up somewhere comfy—somewhere that wasn't just a mattress on the floor.

It looks even sadder in the dim light. No bed frame, no pillows—just a single, plastic-wrapped mattress in the middle of a room that feels far too spacious for what little was inside. The walls are bare, the windows uncovered, leaving the city lights to cast faint, shifting patterns against the walls.

Yoongi, as usual, seems unbothered. He tosses his phone onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head as he looks around. “Not bad,” he muses.

You turned to him, unimpressed. “Not bad? Yoongi, we don’t even have blankets.”

“We have hoodies. Besides, you have me.”

“Oh my god.”

He smiles, clearly entertained by your misery. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” he reassures. “I was too busy making sure everything else got here today. I figured we could survive one night like this.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his words. “One night? You mean the whole week until the bed frame arrives?”

Yoongi’s smirk falters slightly as he purses his lips. “…Maybe.”

You groan dramatically, flopping down onto the mattress. The plastic crinkles beneath you, making the moment even more pathetic. “This is not how I imagined our first night living together,” you mutter.

Yoongi chuckles, toeing off his socks before sitting down next to you. “How did you imagine it?”

You turn your head to look at him. “I don’t know. Maybe something a little more… romantic? Cosy? With an actual bed?”

Yoongi hums, lying back beside you. “So, no romance in a bare room?”

“None,” you say firmly. “Absolutely zero.”

There was a beat of silence before Yoongi suddenly rolled over, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Yoongi—” you yelp in surprise, but he only buries his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“You said no romance,” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement. “So I’m just making sure you’re comfortable.”

You huff, feeling the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. His body is warm against yours, and despite the lack of pillows or blankets, there is a surprising sense of comfort in simply being here with him.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter.

Yoongi hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “And you’re complaining less now.”

You roll your eyes, though you don’t bother arguing. Because the truth is, despite everything—the bare room, the mattress on the floor, the emptiness surrounding you—you still feel at home.

And that has nothing to do with the apartment itself.

It has everything to do with him.

────

The next day, after waking up sore from sleeping on a mattress with no pillows, you and Yoongi ventured out to buy furniture.

It should have been an exciting experience—picking out the things that would turn your apartment into a home. But instead, it became clear within the first fifteen minutes that you and Yoongi have vastly different approaches to shopping.

Yoongi? He was practical. Minimalistic. The type to point at the first couch he saw and say, “That one’s fine,” with zero hesitation.

You, on the other hand, wanted something comfortable, something that felt lived-in before you had even sat on it.

Which was why you're currently standing in the middle of a showroom, arms crossed as you glare at the stiff-looking grey couch Yoongi is sitting on.

“You actually like this?” you ask incredulously.

Yoongi leans back slightly, patting the armrest. “It’s firm. Good back support.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“It’s a couch, not a cloud.”

“It should at least be soft enough to sit on for more than ten minutes without feeling like you’re in a waiting room.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

You scoff. “Says the man who literally naps more than anyone I know.” You gesture to the couch. “Can you actually see yourself sleeping on this?”

Yoongi pause. His lips press together like he wants to argue, but then he slowly looks down at the couch as if re-evaluating his choices.

You can see the exact moment he realises that you're right.

“…Maybe not,” he mutters.

You smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

With a victorious huff, you grab his hand and pull him toward the other section of the showroom, stopping in front of a much softer, cosier-looking couch. You plop down on it immediately, sinking into the cushions with a satisfied sigh.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow as he sits down next to you. “This is your dream couch?”

“Try lying down.”

Yoongi shoots you a look but does as you say, shifting until he is lying back against the cushions. You watch as his eyes flutter shut for a moment, his body visibly relaxing.

“…Okay,” he admits. “It’s nice.”

You grin. “Exactly.”

Yoongi cracks one eye open. “But it’s too big.”

You scoff. “It’s a normal-sized couch.”

“For a family of six.”

“For two people who want to be comfortable.”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temples like this was the hardest decision he has ever had to make. You know he's being dramatic on purpose, but you also know he doesn’t actually mind letting you win. He just likes to put up a fight first.

“Fine,” he mutters, sitting up. “We’ll get this one.”

You beam. “Thank you for admitting I was right. I know, I know, I'm so amazing.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, unable to fight the smile on his face, but doesn’t argue.

Furniture shopping continues in much the same way. You bicker over dining tables (Yoongi wanted a small one, and you wanted a bigger one “for guests,” which made him scoff because, in his words, “What guests?”). You argue over rugs (“Why do we need one?” “Because it makes the space feel cosy, Yoongi!”).

But despite the back-and-forth, it wasn’t frustrating. If anything, it was fun.

By the end of the day, after picking out a bed frame, a coffee table, and a bookshelf you have absolutely no room for but insist on getting anyway, you both collapse onto one of the display beds.

“We should’ve just bought a fully furnished place,” Yoongi mumbles, staring at the ceiling.

“And miss out on all these cute domestic moments? Never.”

Yoongi glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cute, huh?” he murmurs.

You grin. “Very cute.”

Yoongi sighs dramatically but subtly reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours.

And just like that, your new home was slowly coming together.

[wxwrites]

she wants me

(sevika x fem!reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns for reader, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, softdom!sevika, sub!reader, bottom!reader, exhibitionism? not beta/proof read!) men, minors dni

your painfully annoying ex-boyfriend shows up to cause problems. sevika shows him exactly what he lost.

Your ex was persistent. Like… persistent– to the point of it being utterly overbearing. Your shabby apartment was no longer a safe place to stay at, as he would randomly show up at any and all odd hours he could find. Thus, one of your closest friends, Sevika, has offered you temporary relief in her own home.

Your friendship began almost three years ago when you began serving at The Last Drop, her attention was immediately drawn to how disgustingly nice you were. While she brushed off your kind words and attempts at friendship initially, she grew fond of you over time.

Presently, It’s been almost two months since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. The man was absolutely obsessed with you. He was a manipulative, ugly, greedy little sump-rat who refused to leave you alone. While Sevika had no issues with putting him into the ground for his constant awful behavior, you and your tender heart continued to tell her off. 

In an attempt to pull you out of your own festering anxieties, Sevika drags you out to The Last Drop, trying to brighten your mood from the traumatic relationship. 

Now, you’re sitting next to her as she deals out the stack of playing cards to the men at the circular table. You’re dressed in some torn tights, small shorts, a cropped vest with a tattered t-shirt beneath it, accompanied by chunky boots. One leg is crossed over the other as you silently nurse your drink, peeking over at Sevika’s cards. You had never been someone who enjoys cards much, and playing against Sevika would’ve been a losing game anyway. 

There are never really any good nights in Zaun, there’s always the underlying anxiety of ‘maybe today is the day we all get raided and killed.’ So, tonight is going just about as well as it could, realistically. Sevika is winning (as per usual) and you feel slightly at peace, grateful for the fact that she had drawn you out of your blanket-filled cocoon inside of her house. 

Another deck is shuffled out, more shots are thrown back, and you finally feel a little less tense. Not drunk– it was never something you particularly enjoyed, but it was enough for you to drop your shoulders from your ears and slump back against the booth. 

“My little good luck charm, hm?” She mumbles, smirking at you as she rifles through the coins that were begrudgingly slid over to her. You roll your eyes playfully in retaliation, smiling softly and finishing off the last little bit of your drink.

She leans down to press her full lips to your neck, grinning as you gasp. She keeps her strong arm around you as she places a few more chaste kisses, finalizing her ministrations with a sharp nip to the edge of your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

You move your eyes from her, to the table, and then to the crowd, absorbing the scene of Zaun’s nightlife growing. In the group of bodies dancing and bustling you spot the very last thing you wanted to see: Your ex-boyfriend. Staring directly at you. 

“Sev,” you gasp quietly, which immediately snatches her attention. She looks at you first, then follows your gaze over to the crowd– immediately landing on him. Her face twists into a deep snarl as she catches his gaze.

She slams her cards down and abruptly stands up, “Everyone, out!” she growls. In return, several patrons immediately scurry out, and the rest sit in fear. “I said go, now!” she adds, which eventually forces the rest of them out. 

Quick minutes pass by and you’re left stuck in the bar with Sevika and your ex. “Sevika, can we please just leave,” you huff out, standing up next to her. 

“Sit your ass back down,” she hisses, pushing your shoulder gently. Rather than arguing with her as you normally would, you concede this time. You huff out annoyedly before plopping back down, knocking your boot against the base of the table.

She steps over you, placing a large hand on the back of your head as she does so— a fleeting, comforting touch. “Sev, seriously,” you repeat irritably, reaching for the tail of her cloak. She swats your hand away before silently moving forward, slowly treading towards the man in the center of the room. 

“What do you want?” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stops in front of him. She stands over him, forcing him to crane his head up if he wants a half decent look at her.

Puffing his chest out, he responds with a short, “I just wanna talk to her,” and nods towards you. Irritation flares in your chest at his words and Sevika scoffs bitterly. “She doesn’t wanna talk. You dense?” she mocks back, sending you a brief glance.

“I think we should just go,” you say, attempting to dismiss the situation before it gets out of hand. She raises a hand at you, a silent gesture to stop talking before you make her mood even worse. 

You quickly snap your jaw shut, huffing in defeat as she reverts her attention back to the fuming man less than fifteen from you. The very same man who nearly ruined your life for two, excruciatingly long years. You clench your jaw and train your gaze on the seemingly very interesting scotch glass in front of you.

You drum your nails against the table anxiously, overhearing a “fuck you, she’s a stupid sleazy whore anyway,” from the skrunkly-faced man. This causes her to seethe, and you barely register the movement before her metal claws are wrapped tightly around his throat.

“She’s a what?” She questions nastily, pulling him in. “She’s nothing but a piece of ass,” he tacks on, attempting to keep up the tough bravado he is rapidly losing. As her grip tightens, he attempts to stammer out an apology but all she does is shake her head and pout mockingly at him.

The words settle harshly in your chest, causing you to shift in the booth uncomfortably. 

She flings his body to the ground, stepping on his back to keep his body pressed into hard flooring. She crouches down unevenly and leans in next to his ear, “you’re better off keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.” She hisses, lifting her foot off of him.

And the poor, unbelievably stupid man opens his mouth again. “I’m surprised you still keep her around. She’s grown boring— dry.” He spits out venomously.

You snap your head over towards them, feeling the shame morph into a different form of anger. You watch Sevika narrow her eyes at him before she scoffs bitterly and raises her foot up again. This time, her foot meets his jaw, and you hear a crack, and the yelp he lets out.

She straightens herself back up and rolls out her neck and shoulders, smirking down at his tattered form. She turns back towards your startled and half-ass trembling form, and her face softens into something more tender. 

The man attempts to push himself back up, but she quickly turns around and swipes his hands from beneath him, causing him to crash back into the ground.

“Stay the fuck down.” She says, punctuating her sentence with another jab to his ribs. He shakes beneath her cruel eyes, giving her a sheepish nod.

You really shouldn’t feel the familiar heat pool between your legs while you watch her, but it’s so hard when she just looks so fucking good. All big muscles, broad shoulders, scarred and tanned skin. She’s like a walking goddess— one you would dutifully worship if given the chance to.

She walks back towards you and reaches over to grab the still half-full glass of hers on the table. She knocks it back quickly and clears her throat after, finally looking back down at you.

“You okay, baby?” She inquires sweetly, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger. 

You nod in response, still shocked into silence as you watched the scene unfold.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” She asks you, stroking her thumb over the bridge of your nose, and then over your cheekbone. You look away shamefully, knowing that you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the guilty pit that forms in your stomach.

“Oh, pretty girl— you truly don’t see how wrong he is?” She asks, giving you a sympathetic look.

“No, I— it’s not that,” you attempt to stammer out, but it’s hard when she’s looking down at you, almost predatorily. 

She picks up on your growing arousal— the flushed skin and barely dampened hairline. “Would you stand up for me, sweet thing?” She requests, tugging on the collar of your shirt gently. 

You nod immediately and stand up at her request, wrapping your fingers around her fleshed forearm. She guides you out of the seat of the booth and stops you in front of her.

You can see him writhing in pain, occasionally groaning, but he is far too scared to attempt to actually get up. 

“You know, I do remember the little imbecile calling you boring and dry. But something is telling me that his claim is very wrong.” She states, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip as she licks over her own.

“I think that the sump-rat just doesn’t know how to take care of a girl properly,” she says, staring him down as she slides her fleshy hand from your jaw, down to the collar of your shirt again.

“It's such a shame too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, huh?” She coos, trailing her metal claws up the back of your thigh, feeling it snag against your tights. 

You gasp as she purposefully drags her hand up, effectively tearing them. “Sevika—” you stutter, but you’re quickly cut off as her thick lips press against yours. 

“Mmpf—” you moan, eyes widening in shock. Once you adjust to the feeling, you close your eyes and  grip onto her biceps firmly, rolling your hips into hers.

She nips roughly at your bottom lip, skating her hand up to grab a handful of your ass as she walks the both of you backwards. You make a confused noise but follow her regardless, making sweet little noises against her hot mouth. 

You whimper as she turns you over and presses your chest onto the hardwood table, giving him a perfect view of both of you.

“What—” you make a confused sound, but the question is answered when her hands begin to work on the buckle of your studded belt. She leans forward and you feel as her breasts press into your back, “This okay?” She asks, stilling her hands on your hips as she waits for a response.

You nod eagerly, bracing yourself up on your forearms. “Yeah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a second to catch your breath. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ good?” she teases, pressing her lips to your neck roughly. She suckles harshly on your skin before nipping at it, sliding one of her hands beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

She teases her fingers over your clit teasingly, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. Your mouth drops open as you moan, grateful as you’re finally able to get some relief.

“Yeah, that’s it. Make those pretty little sounds for me,” she demands from over your shoulder, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck. The action forces you to cry out and grind yourself against her hand. 

Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, still battered and bruised on the ground. He growls and spits out a protest as he watches the debauchery play out.

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” She asks, pulling her hand away from your clit so that she can shove your shorts down to your mid-thigh. 

“Answer me, baby,” she says lowly, giving you a light spank to your ass. “No, no, he didn’t,” you stammer out, gasping as you feel her metal claws dig into the meat of your ass.

“That’s right, isn’t it? But here you are, all soaked through your tights and panties.” She murmurs, moving both hands to the center of the sheen fabric. 

“I really hope you don’t like these,” she comments. And before you can protest— she tears the fabric apart, causing you to gasp and shiver simultaneously. 

Her fingers hook into the side of your panties as she yanks those down as well, rolling all of the fabric to your thighs. “Well aren’t you pretty,” she says, sliding her fingers through your folds again. You flush in embarrassment as she practically devours you with her eyes. 

“Oh, fuck— Sevika,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table. “This all for me?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again. 

“Mhm– ahh,” you moan loudly, trying to gain more friction against her hand.

She slides a thick finger into you, grinning wolfishly as you release a wanton whine. She curls her fingers, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and gummy walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is shooting through you.

“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with. But you wanted to act like a selfish, bigoted little rat and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at him as her fingers work inside of you. 

It’s painful for him, honestly. To watch one of the most beautiful women to ever grace Zaun’s presence get laid out by her best friend over a table. It’s humiliating for him, but exhilarating for the both of you.

"Isn't she pretty?" She asks, gently raking her claws through your hair.

"Tell her she's pretty." She commands, sneering at him as he stutters.

"Yes, she's— she's pretty," he stutters, averting his gaze back to the floor.

You finally get your revenge, and she finally gets to do the things she has spent the past few years dreaming about. 

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, c’mon, doll," she mumbles, sliding a second finger into you. Her mechanical hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder. 

You moan and writhe against the table, doing exactly as she says. The wet sounds coming from between your soft thighs are unfamiliar, something you have so rarely experienced. (Much less from anyone else.)

“F-Fuck, fuck, Sevika,” you cry out, throwing your ass back against her large hand. She licks over her bottom lip as she watches you hungrily. She kicks your legs apart, pushing her fingers further inside of you. 

“She ever sound like this for you?” She sneers at him, chuckling darkly at the scowl that etches onto his face.

She pulls her fingers out of you and murmurs soft apologies at your incessant whining. “One second, sweet girl,” she says, slowly lowering herself onto her knees. 

She kisses along your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs on her way down, wrapping her hands around the fronts of your thighs. She pulls you back onto her warm, eager mouth and moans once she gets her tongue on you. 

She laps at you feverishly, digging her nails into your thighs as she holds you against her firmly. With your back arched and cheeked smushed against the table, you become the spitting image of arousal and lust.

She wraps her thick lips around your clit and sucks harshly, determined to bring you over the edge with her mouth. 

Her moans vibrate against you and heighten the already intense pleasure. “Mmf— I’m gonna, ha,” you gasp. You feel her nod against you, a silent encouragement. 

You nearly scream out in pleasure as your vision blanks out and a white heat surges from between your legs, and up your body. Quiet sobs wrack through you as the orgasm washes over you, wave after wave, and your thighs begin to tremble. 

You reach back with a weak hand to push her away from you, continuing to suck in shaky breaths.

“‘Vika, please,” you beg, and she finally lets up. She presses a final sloppy kiss to your pussy and then back up your thighs.

She wraps an arm around your front and hauls you back, holding you against her. With you almost all the way up, she tilts your head towards her with her tanned hand and presses a wet kiss to your mouth. 

Her metal arm holds you up as she gently pries your mouth open with her tongue, shoving your slick into your mouth. You moan at the taste and the feeling, reaching back to tangle your fingers through her hair. 

She pulls away and looks back at him, “I hope you learned something from this. Now get the fuck out,” she snaps meanly, keeping your face in place. 

The trembling man scrambles up and ushers out of the bar, leaving the two of you in a long-awaited peace.

“You feeling alright?” she asks, gently thumbing over one of your nipples. You nod tiredly, “yeah, ‘m okay,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip softly. 

“Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” she replies, pressing another firm kiss to your lips.

tag list: @gracie-gloom @aurora-basin @abby-anderson-wifey @arcanestanmelvika @demonslayerfansstuff @mingitheii @helaenabugmom @wh1msyk1tten @happysmappy @lavender248 @clownesquekitten @iwillpokeyouwithmyknife @sevikas-whore @sevikasrightboob @therapyneeds @angelcorner @ghutzz4gutz @theflyingforklift @megamultifandomtrashposts @willow-nox @ugly-melon @goblin-creatcher @sevikas-baby @littlerebels @athena-winters13 @danityrell @heavenlyraindrops @eclipcee8 @depressedqueersocialists @thehotsweetie @trainboom @sapphicslearninglair @femininefables @sophhic

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

you noticed- r.c. x reader

summary: being rafe’s best friend was great but every time he noticed something you did, your heart beat faster.

warnings: angst, reader has low self esteem and body dysmorphia. please, please take care of yourself if it’s a bit triggering <3

a/n: listening to you noticed by lola young inspired this. also, i spent my afternoon crying because of my dad 🙂‍↕️ but at least i tried to put it to good use. english isn’t my first language, just in case there are errors 🙃.

masterlist

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

“i really like your hair today,” he said. you smiled and looked down at your hands to hide your embarrassment.

you mumbled a thanks before changing the subject, “how’s sarah?”

rafe rolled his eyes, “you know. she’s always with john b now, so i barely see her.”

you laughed, “oh to be in love.” you lifted your gaze, only to be meet his blue eyes with an unreadable expression. you looked away before you said something stupid or worse.

“ready to leave?” he gestured to his truck with a tilt of his head.

you saluted, “yes sir.” you practically marched toward the truck before getting in.

you saw him laughing before getting in and turning on the engine. you grabbed the aux as he started driving away and pressed play on the joint playlist you had for your car rides. you lowered your window, breathing in the ocean breeze. you turned your head, only to see him smiling at you.

“i look like a dog with my head out the window, don’t i?” you joked to, again, not think of what his look meant.

he chuckled, “i think your dog name would be lola or something.”

you gasped in mock offense, “how dare you?”

rafe only kept laughing as he turned his gaze toward the road.

“what kind of dog breed would i be?” for some reason you wanted to be a rottweiler or a german shepard. they seemed cool in movies, you guessed.

he scrunched his nose in thought, making his dimple stand out. your heart skipped a beat and your breath grew shallow.

he glanced at you, “i think you’d be a pomeranian or a chihuahua.” his tone was half serious, half joking.

you punched his arm, “rafe cameron, i would not be a small ass dog.” you meant no offense to them, but c’mon.

“sure you would, they’re small and loud and annoying most of the time.” he suppressed a smile, avoiding your gaze.

you glared at him, “i am not loud nor annoying.” you knew that wasn’t true, you could be quite annoying around him sometimes. but that was only because you felt like you could be yourself around him. he was probably the only person who truly saw you. and that scared you so much.

“sure, kid.” he snorted but you knew he wasn’t serious. you rolled my eyes and leaned your head against the door for the rest of the drive.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

you had less than ten minutes before rafe got here to pick you up for lunch. you scurried around your room for perfume because the one you’d been using had run out. you found some cheap shit under the bathroom cabinet and quickly sprayed it on. you figured it wasn’t too bad. your phone buzzed with a message from rafe that he was out front. you quickly ran down the stairs, grabbing your bag and almost tripping over your shoe laces.

“shit.”

nine times out of ten, you stumbled on those steps for the exact same reason. once you got in the car that smelled so much like him, you were hit with the kind of boyish scent mixed with that clean laundry smell that made your head spin. however, he sniffed the air as if something new had invaded his space. he leaned in and inhaled the perfume on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. for a moment, you were certain your heartbeat was loud enough for him to hear, but before you could pull away, he leaned back with a faint smile.

“you smell like jo malone. i like it,” he started driving as if he hadn’t just completely altered your preference for perfume. suddenly, you wanted to run back home to find the name just so you could buy a thousand bottles online. jesus, get a grip.

you looked at what he was wearing for the first time since you’d gotten into the car, and nearly had another heart attack at the blue sweater he wore along with blue jeans. you quickly pulled out your phone in an attempt to distract yourself from staring at him in awe for the rest of the drive. this lunch was going to be eternal.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

the bathing suit was one you usually wouldn’t try on but because rafe insisted the color would look good on you, here you were looking in the mirror. only to now be singling out every part of your body that you felt needed fixing. you took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. it was one of those days where the hatred towards your body was at a high level.

before you could duck back into the dressing room, rafe appeared behind you in the mirror.

his smile was one of the most beautiful ones you’d ever seen.

“see? i told you it would look good on you.”

“you really think so?” you winced when you heard the uncertainty and vulnerability in your voice. he noticed, of course he did.

“of course. i love your body in every form and in every way,” the way he said it and the way he looked at you made you realize that he did mean it. and that only made things more complicated. because you couldn’t have him, when you knew it was gonna end. there was no way you’d be friends.

you nodded and excused yourself to change, not noticing the hurt expression on his face at your dismissal.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

your little sister was sitting on the front porch, painting. you and rafe stepped outside to say goodbye. he had an interview today that was for a job he’d always wanted, so he’d come to your house for a quick pep talk. you’d helped him with his tie, the proximity becoming overwhelming. your fingers had shaken a bit and of course he noticed, but didn’t say anything. you avoided his gaze after that and began rambling about how he needed to act in the interview and what things to say. he’d smiled to himself and hugged you, “thanks, kid.” he kissed the top of your head and that shut you up. sure, he’d shown affection towards you but this time it felt different. he’s just being nice, you told yourself.

and now he was talking with your sister about her painting. you leaned against the door as you watched them interact and frowned when he sat down and loosened his tie.

“hey, you’re going to be late,” you said.

he looked back at you and dismissed your remark, “i promised her i’d help her with her painting.”

“rafe. this interview is important. you’ve wanted this since forever.” your throat grew tight with emotion. there was no way he would miss it just to help your sister with her painting.

he smiled softly, “don’t worry about it. i’ll figure it out.”

“but—“

he cut you off with a look that was clear he was done arguing. you nodded and turned so he couldn’t see the tears that had begun spilling down your cheeks. the thought that formed in your head was clear, i love him.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

the boneyard had been like any other, only this time rafe drove you home. you usually left with sarah and the rest of your friends but you weren’t feeling great. the ride home had been quiet, the reason being the argument you’d had at the party.

you’d seen him talking to a girl and she was laughing at all his jokes, which you knew couldn’t possibly be that funny. but what had pissed you off more was the way she had wrapped her arm around his as if he were hers and the fact that he hadn’t pushed her away. the world got blurry and you threw up at the thought of them kissing. sarah had freaked out and insisted to get you home but you said you were fine, that you just needed fresh air. which was stupid because you were at the beach with plenty of fresh air.

you just needed to get away from there, away from him. you stumbled towards the parking lot to wait in the twinkie for the others but you heard someone shouting your name. shit.

you walked faster as if that would make a difference. he’d seen you and he knew you’d heard him but you still kept going. you suddenly felt an arm wrap around your wrist pulling you to face him. his hair was mused and you saw the faintest hint of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. you felt sick all over again and turned away just in time to not puke on his shoes. thank god. this was embarrassing enough as it is.

“woah, are you okay? c’mon, i’ll take you home,” the worried tone in his voice made your heart break a little. you knew he cared because you were his friend —key word— and that only made hating him even harder.

you jerked your arm away, “i’m fine.”

he frowned at your reaction, “hey, what is it?”

you felt feverish and that was probably why you said the words that came out of your mouth, “nothing. shouldn’t you be out there with miss outer banks over there?”

you only then realized how stupid you sounded but the words were already out.

his face still held the same expression of confusion, “i don’t know what you’re talking about. sarah told me you were sick so i came to check up on you.”

that only made you angrier, “well i’m fine. i’m not a little kid that needs to be taken care of. you can go back to the party.” you turned to keep walking but he took your wrist again and this time grabbed you by the shoulders, glaring down at you.

“don’t fucking walk away from me. i don’t know what the fuck your problem is but you’re not going to take it out on me.” he had never spoken to you that way. and now he was too close and the lipstick was too close to you and the jealousy in your stomach made its way to your tongue.

“oh, i’m sorry. country club over here thinks he’s the center of the universe. well, news flash! you’re not because not everything is about you. i don’t need your help nor did i ask for it.”

his jaw clenched and he lifted one of his hands to grab your chin, making it impossible to get away.

“you’re being completely immature and rude. and i’m not saying it has anything to do with me, but you are making it about me when you’re treating me like shit.” you tried to speak but his hold wouldn’t let you.

“i’m taking you home. end of story. tomorrow we’ll talk about your ridiculous behavior, okay?” you glared at him, because it was the only thing that you could do.

he finally let go of you and you gently touched your chin. it didn’t exactly hurt but it felt tender.

he grabbed your hand and led you to the truck, then proceeded to pick you up by your waist and put on your seatbelt. the whole thing made you feel like a child being scolded by their parent. he slammed the door before getting in the driver’s seat and driving towards your house with a hard grip on the wheel.

now here you were sitting in silence inside his truck, staring at the front porch of your house.

the tension in the air was clear, neither of you was willing to extend an olive branch but because rafe knew how stubborn you could be, he decided to speak first.

you heard him sigh, “kid, i’m sorry. i was just worried about you and the way you treated me made me angry. you know you can talk to me, you’re my best friend.”

you squeezed your eyes at that, the tears falling onto your lap but thankfully it was dark enough for him to notice.

you felt his hand under your chin, turning your head to face him, “hey, what is it?”

when he saw your tear-streaked face, you saw his anger dissolve into worry. he wiped your tears away and pulled you into a hug, which only cause you to cry harder. he ran his hand down your back in soothing motions, knowing you just needed to let it all out. once you were done, you pulled away, only to be inches away from his face. that’s when you saw something click behind his eyes, causing you to wince internally. you looked down at his lips and leaned forward pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. you then pulled away before he could react, getting out of his truck and running into your house. after locking the door behind you, you ran towards your room and locked that door as well before slumping down against it. you brought your knees to your chest and lowered your head into your arms, sobbing.

thoughts kept circling your head but you could only form the one thing you wanted to say to him but couldn’t.

i tried my best to not love you tonight and you noticed.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*

sorry if this was bad lol. ty for reading <3

[the-kr8tor]

Lmaooo imagine he tales a lil nibble at R's neck bc of it 😂

Truee we have evolved a lot and yet putting up blinds is still so annoying and tiring

BAHAHAHHAHAHHAA he's insatiable 😵‍💫

Oooh i miss flash games! I hope that one is still playable

It is!! Good eye! Hobie buys r a giant ass loom and it takes up the whole living room 😆

He def asked someone to cover for him but everyone has their own mj or gwen variants to celebrate with lmaoo

So so in love!!

He can't escape the good lizard juice 😔

Lmaoo i can imagine that dude felt like he was in a romcom 😆

Oooh that sounds lovely!

Maybe it's like an astronaut suit 😂

Ooh no she burned the meat!! Good thing she has a back up meat tho

LMAOOOO WHAT 😆 R got him pregnant 😔

Poor Ned 😭

Right?!! Noticed that during the last spiderman film lol

OMG I DIDN'T EVEN THINK OF THAT HAHAHAHHAHAHA Once more to see you reference 🫵

I actually tried to write blackcat as a guy in this but i could not come up with a male f name so i stayed with felicia

He's so tired of it all 😂

Yeesss it's bc he's also a nerd

Poor r was probably sneaking in bites of the food lol

R WAKE UP! THE CANDLES!!!!

The way he's probably crying inside when he saw the scene in front of him :(((

BAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA if he did r will make him reheat it all in the stove 😆

Hehehehe katy bday reference! 🫵 Imagine the conversation goes "you were literally there last week wdym???"

Awwwww cute and practical!

Nooooo hobie will immediately buy the blackout curtains now

All the villains are single it seems 😂😂😂😂😂 thank you bestie!!! I got one (1) chocolate from my sister lol and one (1) joke that I'm single from my own birth giver 😔 always a pleasure!!! ❤️❤️❤️

A Regular Spidey Valentine's day

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Hobie's valentine's day plan goes awry when Spider-Man duties call.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, CW suggestive, CW food mentions, lovestruck! Hobie, canon typical violence, fluff.

Requested by @thesevenofstaves -- had to double check the master list but i don’t think there’s one similar to this? but if there is feel free toto discard—hobie trying to have a great valentine’s day with his partner, but everything keeps going wrong. we’re talking villain attacks, we’re talking culinary failures. you get the idea!thank you love you 🥰

Navigation

You open your eyes to a cold valentine's day morning. But the cool wind barely nips at you when you've got your very own furnace holding you close under the thick blankets.

Hobie embraces you from behind, soft snores escaping from his parted lips as he finds his place on your nape. You feel his breath fanning across your skin, goosebumps appearing on your arms as he lets out an exhale. You wonder what he's dreaming about, you only hope it's good things as his arms subconsciously squeezes you in his sleep.

His legs are tangled with your own, socked feet rubbing along your cold leg as you feel him stir when the light from the windows beam through the curtains. His hands wiggle their way under your night shirt, holding your stomach and letting his warmth ebb from his palms. Smiling, you hold the back of his hands, thumbs running along his knuckles as a soft and gentle way to wake him up.

“We need new blinds.” Hobie murmurs against the back of your neck, lil piercing brushing along your raised skin. His voice is still deep and rough from sleep, it single handedly makes your heart flutter.

“Good morning to you too.” You chuckle, voice soft amidst the early morning fluttering of dust. “Maybe that'll be your valentine's gift from me.”

He laughs, a deep rumble in his throat that reverberates through you. “Make it blackout, love. ‘m startin’ to think that people can see through and see our nightly—” you crane your neck to give him a side glance as a warning, only to find that he has already cracked an eye open, waiting for your reaction. “—Activities.”

Humming, you're satisfied by his use of the word.

“‘m talkin' ‘bout makin’ love, by the way.”

“Hobie!” You giggle, and the sound immediately has Hobie moving to detangle himself away from you and lift his body atop your own in quick succession and fluid movement. His lopsided smile has your words stuck in your throat as you look up at him through wide eyes.

“Hearts day today, hm?” He pokes your cheek, arms enclosed around you and legs trapping your thighs together. “The most capitalistic time of the year.”

You try to tamp down a laugh but can't help giggling when he tilts his head and tries to look all flirty with you when he's still wearing his pink silk bonnet and with crusts still in the corner of his eyes.

“That's true,” lifting your hand up to rub away the sleep in his eyes gently, he closes his eyes whilst you do it. “But you always go all out during the holiday.”

“Yeah, but it's for you.” He leans against your touch, sighing longingly as if you're across the sea from him. “And only for you, love.” Dropping down, he places his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck as he gives small pecks on your skin. Your heart feels full in the moment as you hold him close and tangle your legs with him. “Says you who made me a whole bloody outfit from scratch.”

Laughing, he continues to kiss your neck and up to your jaw. “And I loved making it for you,” you say breathlessly as he kisses deeper and you move your neck to give him more space to cover. “Just say you love the holiday, Hobs.”

Hobie pauses from his barrage of kisses, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes. He fixes your unruly brows that still bear sleep, and rubs your cheek lovingly with his knuckles.

“No.”

“Is it because you have to go on patrol today unlike last year?”

“The world is tearing us apart, lovie.” He leans in, kissing the corner of your lips, cheeks and the tip of your nose.

“Maybe just London, Hobie.” You gasp as he presses a sweet kiss on your lips. You reciprocate wholeheartedly, hands balling his pajama shirt and smiling through the kiss.

“London can wait a few more minutes.”

—

“Hobie, be careful, please?” You hug yourself tighter, wrapping Hobie's cardigan around you. “I have plans for us tonight so please come home in one piece.”

Hobie, in his full regalia of spandex and leather sits in-between the window sill as if he’s thinking whether he should stay or go.

“You know I always will, love.” Holding up his arms, you park yourself in the space as he curls himself around your form, face scrunched on your belly, and with you hugging his head. “I'll be on time, hm?” He whispers against you, placing a heavy kiss atop the cardigan that you both share.

“I'm not worried about that.” Craning your neck, not worried about the crick you're about to surely have, you kiss his temple sweetly. “Just come home, okay?”

Hobie reluctantly lifts his head away from you, smiling up at you. If he doesn't leave now, he'll never get out of the flat. “You want wine for tonight?”

“If you're coming home all beaten and battered, you better have something stronger.” You joke as you caress his cheek.

“I'll get you the good stuff, hm?”

“Anything from you is the good stuff.” Leaning down, you kiss him on his waiting lips. “Now go, the city needs you, Spider-Man.”

Hobie gives you one last smile before placing the mask on his head. Now face to face with the famed vigilante. Taking your hand, he kisses your knuckles and lets you go to jump off the window and swing away into the bustling city.

Watching his form retreating away, you sigh and start preparing for tonight's meal, that's for sure would be so bountiful that it would send the vigilante to a food coma.

—

Hobie heaves in place as the lizard lays unconscious by his feet. It's barely noon and he has stopped seven disasters already. There goes his plans to swing by and hand you a bouquet that he gathered himself that's now slowly floating down to the dust covered pavement. Fragrant flower petals come down from the sky, and a few people stop by and watch as the colourful flowers grace the cold London street.

“It's a Valentine's miracle!” A bystander exclaims happily, dancing around the floating petals.

Hobie shakes his head, rubbing a gloved hand across his masked face. He should've seen the lizard coming but he was too enthralled by his own mind that was playing what your reaction would be after he gives you a visit and hands you the flowers.

“Fuckin' hell.” He stretches his aching shoulder, already thinking of a faster route to gather all the flowers he needed to make a new bouquet. Whilst he thinks, a fire alarm blares in the distance, making his senses go off. With a sigh, the flowers have to wait.

—

You swirl the final touches on the red velvet cake you just finished. Smiling happily at the result even though it's your first time baking one. As you check the time, looking over to the clock on the wall, you have plenty of time to finish up dinner. Now with dessert out of the way, it's time for the main course.

You wonder what Hobie's up to and if he has eaten lunch yet.

—

“You wanker! That was my lunch!” Hobie screams at the cackling Rhino. Real fury in his veins whilst he glances at the sandwich you packed for him this morning that's now flattened under the villain's metallic foot.

“Oh poor spidey lost his sandwich?” The Rhino mocks while doing a crying motion at him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Hobie cracks his neck, jaw tightening and walking slowly at the humongous suit of armour. He has no quip nor a joke, just silence; making the Rhino fear for his life.

—

“Shit!” You yelp, dropping the smoking metal tray into the sink. Opening the faucet, the tray hisses and lets out steam whilst the whole kitchen is covered in smoke. “Damn it.”

Maybe taking a short nap while the oven is on wasn't such a great idea. Good thing you have a plan b just in case something like this happened.

Checking the time, you're starting to worry that you won't finish before Hobie comes home now that it's well into the afternoon. With a groan, you start again.

—

“No, Ned, not a bloody yellow one!” Hobie yells into the phone's receiver, which he only uses for times like these. He's on call with Ned who owes Hobie big time and whom he asked for help in buying ingredients from the store. He dodges the Scorpion's stinger, balancing on a metal railing just near the end of the docks. “Not blue either! It'll look like it's for a baby shower—!” The stinger gets too close for comfort. “Do you fuckin' mind? 'm on the phone.”

“Drop the call, Spider-Man!” The scorpion says in his scratchy tone as he hangs upside down on a lamp post. “What's more important than saving the bank?”

“The bank can fuck off for all I care!” Hobie jumps and webs the stinger to a building. “It's the hostages you've got inside, you knobhead—! No, not you, Ned!” Groaning, he has had enough and quickly somersaults over the second stinger that was aimed for him. “What's up with you animal themed villains today? Got no dates?!”

“That's harsh.” The Scorpion's shoulders deflates sadly.

“Guess it's hard to find a date when you dress like that!” He pounces, punching the guy right on his jaw.

Hobie looks at the sun slowly setting on the horizon and he focuses on the task at hand. The faster he defeats the Scorpion, the faster he can get to you.

“Pink or red only, Ned, and get the good chocolate and please don't forget the thing I told you.” He closes the call and tucks the phone back in his vest pocket. Cracking his knuckles, he hones in on the villain. “Maybe you'll find a date in jail, yeah?”

—

You set up the dinner table all pretty like with red roses, a fine tablecloth, and gilded utensils that you got a deal on at an estate sale last week. Looking around, the pretty string lights and the strawberry scented candles have you smiling and patting your back for a job well done.

Your phone pings on the kitchen counter, and you race towards it to check if it's Hobie telling you that he's on his way. Your brows knit together when it's Ned asking you when your birthday is and if you're allergic to nuts. A weird combination of questions but you still open your phone and answer him.

—

“C’mon, blackcat, not today.” Hobie sighs, the marks from the previous fights is evident on his soot and scratch covered suit. The sun has fully set, and the clock ticks close to seven pm as he stands on a rooftop with blackcat, who's carrying a duffel bag full of jewellery.

“Why? Got something to do, handsome?” She says in a sultry tone, sharp claws glinting in the moonlight. Hobie subtly tilts his head in annoyance. Nothing seems to be going his way today. “Oh, I get it, you've got someone waiting for you tonight, hm?” Her heels click on the rooftop as she walks closer to him. Hobie smacks his lips together, fists tightening.

In the distance, the famous jewellery shop she just robbed empty has its alarms blaring loudly. Sirens go off around the area, and Hobie just wants to go home.

“Y’know what?” Hobie starts, exasperated. Blackcat tilts her head, her silver eyes under the domino mask narrows at him. “That place was owned by an arsehole, go.”

She blinks in place, a smirk slowly appearing on her painted lips. “Really? Just like that?”

Hobie nods, “promise not to tell anyone what you deduced and give thirty percent of the money you get from that to a charity and I'll let you go.”

“Shit, Spider-Man, why didn't you say so in the first place?” She chuckles, reeling her claws back in.

“Fuckin’ say it, Felicia.”

“Damn, you don't have to call me by my government name, man.” She rummages through the bag and tosses him something shiny which Hobie catches effortlessly. “Here, for your special someone. And I promise, spidey. Cross my heart, hope to die.” She draws a cross over her chest.

“I'll know, don't lie to me.” His voice falls into a dangerous timbre.

She visibly stiffens from the threat, not forgetting what he did to Osborne a few years ago. “As if I'd lie to my favourite spider.”

As blackcat tumbles away, leaving Hobie alone, he opens his palm to see a shiny diamond tennis bracelet. Maybe he can detach the diamonds and make something else.

“Shit!” He needs to get to Ned’s real quick.

—

You've been sitting pretty on the dining table for four hours now. The candle is dwindling and the food is getting colder while the clock ticks on the wall. For the umpteenth time tonight, you fix your clothes as if there's even a crease or a speck of dust on it. You don't mind waiting for him when you know the nature of his work, but you're starting to worry when his last text to you was hours ago. You've even turned on the telly in the background just in case he pops up in the news.

With a yawn, you decide to lay your head on the table. “Just closing my eyes.” You mumble to yourself as you drift in between slumber and wakefulness.

Hobie's heart breaks when he sees you asleep on the table with your head tucked in your arms. The candles are fully melted on the candelabra, and the smell of food is fading away. He's sure that it might've smelled heavenly hours ago, if only he got there earlier.

He quietly takes off his heavy boots by the door, the crinkling of the paper bag has him cringing. But when he glances at your sleeping form, you're still sleeping soundly. He curses himself internally as he roams his eyes around the living room and the decorations you've put out. You've even got new pictures of you together with him inside pretty frames to place around the shared place. The flowers on the vases are still fresh and blooming, and you look absolutely stunning.

Gently placing the paper bag on the table, he kneels next to you, hand grasping your bicep while he wakes you up.

You stir, sniffing the air as you lift your head up. Your face lights up when you see him smiling softly at you.

“Hi.”

“Hello, love. Sorry ‘m late, let me carry you to bed, yeah?” Hobie rubs your thigh lovingly, chest feeling heavy and guilty. “I tried.”

You immediately know what he meant. “I know, Hobs.” Reaching for his cheek, you let your touch warm him. His face still feels chilly from how he might've run to get to the flat. “You okay?” He nods, eyes shining as he moves closer and places his head on your lap. “Bad day?”

“A shite day.” He hugs your waist, face nudging you.

“Sounds like you need a Valentine's meal, hm?”

Hobie lifts his head up, palms holding your hips. “It's cold.”

“That's why microwaves and the stove were invented.”

A smile curls on his lips until he's laughing against your stomach. You giggle with him, fingers kneading in between his shoulder blades.

“What did you make?” He asks, still holding you in place and in turn holding him down to the present.

“Baked chicken with lemongrass just like how you like it.” You whisper to him while the pads of his fingers draw circles on the small of your back. “Some mashed potatoes, so many buttered vegetables.” You chuckle and you feel his smile atop your skin. “Fish fillet—”

“With the garlic and cream sauce?”

You nod, gazing down lovingly at him. “With the garlic and cream sauce of course. Some tomato soup, and cake.”

“We feedin’ a whole town now, lovie?” He smiles up at you, stomach rumbling from the menu.

“Yeah, you,” you joke, earning a squeeze from him. “I rarely cook for you these days so I went all out.”

He beams at you, eyes gazing at you lovingly. “I got you flowers.” He says in a small tone. Your heart flutters. “It's all over downtown now though.”

Your laugh is music to his ears. “I bet it made someone's day though.”

“There was a bloke who looked like he was in the sound of music.” He places his chin on your thigh, staring at you with heart shaped eyes. You laugh, hands cupping each of his cheeks. “I made you chocolates, but Neddy got coconut fillings in most of ‘em. And the sprinkles are green, sorry.”

“Is that why Ned asked me if I have any allergies and when my birthday is? He helped you make them?”

“I can't make it ‘ere when you were cookin’ up a storm. Wait, he asked you? Idiot.” He curses Ned's name and you giggle. Hobie bites his lip, suddenly nervous. “And he was askin' when your birthday is so he could get your birth stone.”

“My stone?”

“I just told him to pick it up so I could set it myself and the wanker forgot when your birthday is just because I just said your birthstone.” You squeeze his cheek to stop his nervous rambling. He sighs, rummaging through his jacket pocket and procuring a simple bamboo box. “Made and designed by yours truly.” He chuckles nervously as he opens the box, revealing a simple platinum necklace that has your birthstone set in a guitar pick shaped locket. “Sorry that the stone is so small. The old lady who owned the place got me a good price though.”

“Hobie,” you softly sigh out, tears prickling your eyes. “You could get me a candy necklace and I would still love it.”

“Should've gotten that then.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. “I thought, ten fuckin' years together, ten Valentines, I have to get you somethin' nice. You deserve nice, love.”

“The chocolates and the pavement flowers were nice too. Anything from you is nice, Hobie.” You don't hold yourself back anymore, leaning down and kissing the corner of his eye as he holds onto you. “Amazing even.”

“You like it then?” He says as he gets a barrage of kisses.

“I love it. Come stand up and help me put it on like in the movies.”

Hobie reaches for your cheek, a calloused palm holding you close and keeping you warm. “Kiss me like in the movies then.”

So you do.

Banners by @/cafekitsune

Photos from Pinterest

[urinarythreatinfection]

No one is more annoying than you tagging your hate. Seeing how you guys act, only Shuggy fans will get my support and other Shanks ships get nothing but my hate. Shuggy fans are truly the only tolerable Shanks shippers. The rest of you need to get your act together or find something else to do because you don’t even understand the story or the characters.

I literally wrote this whole thing about the problems with Shuggy but i got distracted and accidentally closed the app so im just gonna say if you really think that I'm not understanding the point or the story or the characters then you need to reread/rewatch one piece because everything Oda has put out has not been shy or subtle in showing that Buggy is toxic. Buggy stomped and stabbed Luffy's treasure, tried killing him multiple times, then in impel down Luffy forgave and struck a deal with him and Buggy tried to fuck him over again despite acknowledging himself through inner dialogue that Luffy is incredibly trusting and only a monster would betray him, and then shamelessly trying to betray him.

The whole point of his character in Impel down/Marineford is that Buggy is horrible and his karma is that he's forced to help in order to save his own ass since at every corner he's ready to betray, just like Shanks and the Roger Pirates. Shanks tried to be brotherly friends, Buggy felt inferior so he constantly picked fights, The Roger pirates raise Buggy with love, Buggy tries to steal a treasure map and devil fruit so that he can sell the fruit off and go find the treasure for himself and blames Shanks despite the reason Shanks approaches him is to check on Buggy, but Buggy still blamed Shanks despite it being his choice to be an idiot and stuff the fruit in his mouth to hide it while letting go of the map. When the Roger crew disbanded and Roger died Buggy made it about him. He said he was willing to give up "everything" for Shanks or whatever and then Shanks betrayed him and thats the whole reason why Shuggy lovers coddle Buggy and demonize Shanks but Shanks also sacrificed everything basically. He stayed behind for Buggy when Buggy was sick and missed the last of the adventures with his father figure and being able to go to the last island. Shanks sacrifices everything. Buggy was mean to Shanks even before the "betrayal" which was just Shanks saying he didn't want to go for the One Piece.

Then he blames everything on Shanks and leaves Shanks at his most vulnerable time since as the story goes on we're learning more and more that clearly something traumatizing and burdening happened to Shanks that made him give up the One Piece at that time. It was his dream too. He was always so bright and happy and hopeful and he always tried his best yet Buggy was the one who actually betrayed Shanks, running away like a coward because of his inferiority complex when Shanks was doing everything in his power to lift Buggy up. But Buggy doesn't want to be lifted up. No matter how much Shanks tried Buggy always would rather drag Shanks down with him. Now Shanks is alone, he had to go through everything alone and clearly is not okay mentally because of it from his random bouts of melacholy and burden. He longs for some sort of companion but has nothing because Buggy left and he didn't give chase, sacrificing his want for a friend in order to let Buggy leave since Shanks felt that Buggy really must hate him and would be happier leaving, he sacrificed his dominant arm to save Luffy, severely weakening himself, gave what he had left of Roger to Luffy in order to cheer the boy up, another sacrifice. Then you'd think "oh he still has his daughter" and you'd be right, he took care of her when he found her in the chest, sacrificing his youth to take care of a baby on the ship, but he had to leave her. He made himself look like the bad guy to leave her, losing the last bit of compassion in his life.

He took it hard too, Oda drew in a little sbs thing im pretty sure of Shanks despairing over it. Then, canonically, Luffy is Shanks's last hope, for everything. Shanks doesn't have a companion, no little daughter to cheer him up, no lover because he likely doesn't want to bring them into what he has on his shoulders, nothing. Yet Buggy tried to kill that hope, multiple times. And only helped Shanks with Luffy when Shanks had to trick him into it (oh the horror what a devil that redhead/s). Shanks is just a broken Luffy, he was bright and sunny and had hopes but from likely learning about the prophecy or whatever that he was not going to be JoyBoy, so he gave up his dream for the world. All of this. All of these terrible things Shanks has gone through for everyone and everything and how Buggy tries to destroy every single one of it and somehow Shuggy shipper STILL manage to coddle Buggy and treat him like some cute tsundere that was wronged by Shanks and Shanks is the one that needs to chase after Buggy because evil Shanks betrayed him. That Shanks is the stupid longing ex husband that needs his wife back and that he messrd up when Buggy is a terrible friend at the VERY best and an abusive one at worst. That is why i "hate" Shuggy. I don't tag my hate post as Shuggy because i'm some sort of ragebaiter or slanderer trying to take away the happiness that is Shuggy its because I need Shuggy people to realize that the way they portray the ship is so utterly unfair to Shanks. The story goes on and on and you find out more and more about how Shanks sacrificed so much yet you're telling ME that i "don't even understand the story and characters" like the whole dynamic of Buggy isn't that he's horrible and its funny to see him get karma while somehow surviving and that Shanks's role is to be the sacrificial lamb to everything while having no one to take atleast some of the burden off.

Shuggy people and the way they portray it is toxic. Its not just they treat Shanks like the longing ex husband for the comedy, every artwork and fic and story i've seen its always Buggy needing to be apologized to and they're serious in that being the good and what should happen option and not, i don't know, the literal bad guy abusive person being the one to go "oh shit i need to change my ways and I have to apologize and help the friend I abandoned". No its always just adding more shit to Shanks's already about to break apart plate. It's maddening seeing it. It has so much potential to be an amazing ship that can explore the relationship between someone that used to be abusive learning that they arent the victim and atoning while finding love in eachother's comfort but instead its just victim blaming 101. Shanks could end up fucking dying horribly in One Piece while Buggy watches and goes "serves you right" and somehow Shuggy lovers would go "oh nonono its actually just him being a cute tsundere and look he feels bad deep inside so its all forgived and Shanks just dies ig idk anyway poor Buggy." There is so much wrong with the ship and how its treated that all that shit about shuggy haters trying to debunk it using some shitty half assed excuse like its "emotional incest" when theres so many other problems is if i looked at a history book and was like "Yeah the colonizers of the America were definitely wrong because their wigs were weird" like thats completely insignificant! Shuggy and the way its treated as if Buggy is the wronged one and always the loved and longed after while he has his poor hurt heart closed off from years of trauma like abandoning his friend and pillaging and killing innocent civilians while using their wealth to flaunt and pretend like he's big and strong.

Shuggy should not be a fix it via victim blaming Shanks and treating him like some dumb dog that loves Buggy so much it should be using the fact that Buggy has an inferiority complex and that he longs to be in the spotlight that he slowly learns that theres a reason why he's at the bottom. That is my issue. I'm not ignoring the story i am looking st the story with everything i possibly can because I even used to be kinda alrighy with Shuggy. It is literally now that we are learning more about Shanks and that im rereading One piece and remembering how horrible Buggy is that I'm realizing how horribly its treated. I mean look I started this off that I would try and summarize it but its so hard to summarize when theres so much wrong. I'm okay with shipping, i really am, but the ship is toxic, and the "fluffy" stuff is even toxic because its just making Shanks's misery worse. I need yall to realize that. This is not mindless hate.

[androgynousblackbox]

A most exhausted king [Appleradio, Radioapple]

A03 link

Summary: After finally fulfilling one of his royal duties, Lucifer has no energy left for anything. Luckily for him, he can always count with a freakishly tall monster. I mean, boyfriend. I mean, Alastor.

A little something for the Radioapple San Valentine's gift exchange!

The meeting had lasted eight hours. Lucifer didn't even have the energy to try to feel proud for whithstanding what could only be described as torture without falling asleep on his seat. It wasn't even satisfactory as he portalled to a room that he was so familiar with that he walked all the path to the bed and let himself fall face first into it, lights turned off. Hours passed as his royal white figure kept unmoving.

When Alastor finally opened up the door to come inside, the chimney on the corner lighted out in a green fire. He was humming to himself, passing in front of the craft desk full of half started and half finished projects in duckie shapes, in the way to his library to pick his latest reading material. Only after he got the book on his hand he noticed what was on top of the bed. He stood next to the mattress and gave the black boots a small bump with his cane.

"Darling?" asked only after he didn't get any reaction. "If you are dying, could you be kind enough to not do it where I also sleep?"

A muffled grumble was his only response. Alastor tilted his head. The lack of a snarky remark was noteworthy. He sat next to the legs of the king and patted the ass still covered by the white jacket.

"Tough day?" asked just to further confirm.

A rumble answered him in a implied yes. There was a moment in time, when they started their private encounters, when Alastor played around with the fantasy of somehow taking the crown away from Lucifer after he had found their relationship had run its course.

But all that came crushing down the more time he got to spend around the monarch. Not only because the idea of doing anything to hurt him or restrain him somehow was less and less appealing, but also just seeing the effects of what having such a job could cause had effectively killed any lingering ambition left. Too much rules, paperwork, stuck up royals all demanding attention, regulations set in place that not even Lucifer could change because they were the foundation of Hell itself.

And then there was the meetings.

He had only assisted to one as a listener, after assuring Lucifer over and over that it was only natural to be curious about the job of his partner, and that was the final knife on the chest of his dreams of reaching that position someday. Being an Overlord, by comparison, was just infinitely more entertaining and relaxed. There was no actual rules for him, he could do essentially everything he wanted and more, without no one but his victims caring about it. Have Lucifer as his secret guard dog that would come out to help him if he ever chewed more than he could swallow was a good enough position to be in. He was content, as much someone could be in Hell. Anything before ever enduring another of those meetings would probably be better.

"I see" said with a sigh. "Well, staying in bed the entire day is not an option. Have you even changed since this morning?"

Now silence responded to him.

"Hmm!" Alastor stood up, putting his hands on the back. "That is unfortunate."

With one snap of fingers, tentacles raised from the shadows under Lucifer's body and elevated him on the air, over the bed.

"Al" groaned the king. They both knew that he could get free, easier than just snapping his own fingers. "What are you doing?"

"I am going to give you three seconds to change yourself and get into the bathtub" said Alastor casually.

"Since when are you my nanny?"

"Depends. Are you not going to move?"

"I am tired" Lucifer grunted, slumped against his tentacles. "If I am so annoying for you, I can move to my old room."

"I have a better idea. Three," said Alastor calmly, moving over to the bathroom and opening the door. His tentacles quickly moved the king through it and dropped him on the already half full tub, fully clothed as he was. "I will be waiting for you, dear!" announced Alastor cheerfully, closing the door the door to drown out the angry growls that resulted from the king.

The same ones that died not that long after, while Alastor was reading on his chair. After a while, the door opened up again and there came out Lucifer on his favorite fluffy pink robe, duckie slipper matching the one in his hand and towell wrapped around his head. The only thing breaking apart the image of perfect comfort that surrounded him was the grumpy expression he was stubbornly clinging to as he glared to Alastor. The same look that Alastor let slide over him like water off a duck's feathers.

"Ah, that is much better!" said the radio demon, leaving his book to a side. "Did that helped you out to wake up, dear?"

"It made me want to kill you so yeah, I guess it worked." Lucifer huffed on his way to his walk in closet, one of the features the king had brought in when they meshed their spaces together.

Despite being perfectly able of making appear any clothing he wanted on him, Lucifer still liked to have a physical space where he could do it the traditional way sometimes. In this case, using it as another excuse so he wouldn't need to aknowledge Alastor.

At the start of their cohabitation, Alastor would find such gestures to be so childish and stupid as to keep arguing about it. Now, he had stuck around enough to know to just let the temper tantrum to pass on like some harmless little rain. Lucifer was a petty man, for sure, but was also incapable of holding his grudges for long, as if his small frame didn't had enough space for it. That was still Alastor's territory.

A few minutes after, Lucifer came out with a casual black t-shirt and pajama pants stamped with duckies all over. To finalize the look, red crocs with duckie pins all over the front. An outfit that screamed he couldn't be bothered to do anything better. It wasn't the same one that he had used since that morning, so Alastor would just take it. Despite the frown still being there, there was indeniable a change on the whole posturing of Lucifer. For one, he was moving on his own.

That was what Alastor was thinking until he realized Lucifer was not stopping on his moving forward. Determined, Lucifer moved away the hand of Alastor that was holding his book and climbed to his lap, clinging to him with arm around the demon's neck and legs straddling him. Without another word, he had declared himself his cargo. Alastor sighed as he patted the blonde head.

"I was planning to go make myself dinner" said.

"Then go" was the muffled response against his shoulder.

"I would need to stand up for that, dear."

"Who is stopping you?"

"You are not going to move, are you?" When the only answer to his question was just a tightening of the hug the king was subjecting him to, Alastor rolled his eyes as he rubbed his back.

He should have imagined that when he noticed that the body of Lucifer was lighter than usual, not even the weight of a feather, something that of course he could control at will. Another one of the many powers that the fallen angel had and only found any use for in very specific occasions. Like now, apparently. If Lucifer wanted, he could also make his small body so heavy that it would crush Alastor's legs and destroy the chair they were on. Alastor had discovered it one time that he tried to pick up Lucifer with his tentacles and was unabled to move him from the ground at all. He had to wait until the king decided to come over to him instead.

With no other option in sight, Alastor rised up from his chair. He didn't even need to hold Lucifer for him to remain in place, still firmly attached against his chest, like he was meant to be there all along. By his death or life, Alastor sometimes could not understand what was that need of Lucifer to be touching so much. When they were eating, their knees had to be brushing. When they were in bed, Lucifer's hand had to be on him. When they were walking, sometimes, Lucifer would grasp him by the lower back and stay there until they something else called to them.

It used to irritate Alastor, mostly because of that same confusion. Now he had come to just accept it, like so many other things he had to adapt for, like how he imagined cat owners eventually tolerated their pets climbing on their laps while doing something else. That is what being on a relationship of their nature implied. A constant game of compromises where the pros had to stack up against the cons. If having Lucifer latched onto him like a literal monkey was a con, then the king relying on him, and only him, in a way he didn't do for anyone else, was the notion meant to balanced it out again. There was a subtle sense of pride on fulfilling that kind of role he had come to appreciate.

At the very least, this wasn't so intrusive. He could still walk with one hand over his mic and other at his back, down the stairs and through the hallways. In the kitchen, he hummed to himself as he gathered the ingredients for the meal he wanted to: sinner's flesh fresh from Cannibal Town, some guts from the last hunt of deer he could gather and, of course, spices to accompany it all.

"Do you want anything particular, darling?" asked, grabbing a pinch of meat with his fingers and delighting on it.

"Mmm." Lucifer rumbled for a bit, as it was a very serious consideration. "Pasta?"

"There is no pasta, dear" pointed out Alastor.

"Yes, there is" said Lucifer and made it true with one snap of fingers.

The box with the long noodles floated in front of Alastor, agitating itself as if demanding to be grabbed. He did with an eye roll.

"You could make it appear prepared already, dear."

"Yeah, but it always taste better when someone actually does it. It doesn't have the same love" Lucifer sighed, his arms ever so slightly tihgtening it up around Alastor. "I can still make it with magic if you want."

That would be more convenient. And faster. And less bothersome. And a million other things that Alastor could list. But if Lucifer haven't done that already, he didn't truly wanted it like that. Leaving the only true question if Alastor was going to indulge him on this bit of laziness.

The answer apparently was yes. Make a spicy delicious sauce to go with both his meat and the pasta wasn't the most hard enduring task he ever took. As the pots started to let out a fragant smell and the red liquid bubbled up to the surface, some of the residents of the hotel started to appear. If Alastor haven't seen them through his shadow, he would have known by how Lucifer hide against his chest, not one to want to socialize for the moment.

First curious, then looking over what he was doing with clear interest. Even Niffty, the usual cook for the hotel, came crawling from somewhere under the table and climbed on Alastor's back to sniff the closest pot. She was just as light as Lucifer, like a hollowed out bug, so it didn't bothered him.

"Needs salt!" said the maid, grabbing the whole bag off the counter and about to dump it in before Alastor could pick it up with his tentacles.

"You are very right, dear, thank you." Alastor picked her up easily with his shadows and put her on the floor again, patting her head. He picked just a pinch of salt and put it on, revolving for a bit before taking out a spoon to offer her a lick. "How is it?"

"It didn't burn my mouth!" Niffty celebrated with a smile. "Want me to add some rat eyes for more flavor?"

"Maybe later, dear" said Alastor when Lucifer suddenly pulled slightly on the straps of his chest, the same one that kept his suspenders in place. "Yes?"

"Can I try?"

"Sure."

As Alastor was giving Lucifer a spoonful of sauce to tast himself, Angel Dust appeared on his side.

"Can I be fed too?" asked with a cheerky grin. "I accept mouth to mouth."

"I can feed you the ground outside of a window, how does that sound?" asked Alastor calmly, picking up a small drop left at the corner of Lucifer's mouth with his thumb and cleaning it up with his tongue. Without caring at all for how the spider demon reacted huffing in place. "More spices" determined Alastor, looking for those.

Lucifer nodded before pressing his face again against him, seemingly very content where he was. Angel Dust crossed all his four arms.

"You two make me sick." The porn star sighed before looking into the fridge something for himself.

"Dad?" called Charlie carefully, coming closer to Alastor. She had seen them enough to each other to not be shocked or escandalized by it anymore. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"

The chest of Lucifer, pressed against him, rumbled with a silent groan. He still offered a thumb up over the shoulder of the radio demon. Alastor patted his back as he kept working on the pot with his other hand.

"His Majesty is perfectly well" said without giving it more importance. "Just a long day of actually fulfilling his royal duties for once. Anyone would be exhausted after being so out of practice, I suppose. If anything, it's a miracle he still has the will to be clingy. Imagine if he did that in the regular! What a different world would that be," added with a chuckle.

Lucifer grumbled, louder this time, but otherwise didn't argued with him. He did pull on his bowtie for Alastor to incline his head and listen to a soft murmuring. His ears flickered softly for a few seconds before he nodded.

"Your father wants to know if you would like to eat with us."

"Oh, it's okay, dad" Charlie moved closer to place her palm over the arm of Lucifer wrapped around Alastor's neck. The other hand of Lucifer found her and squeezed her back. "Vaggie and I were going to go out anyway. Unless you want me to stay?"

Lucifer shook his head and lifted himself ever so slightly, over the shoulder of Alastor. Between the two Morningstars and Niffty, a lot of people lately were using him as their wall. But far from him to being the kind of impolite beast that would disrupt a father and daughter small moment. At least not since he was sure he didn't hate the father anymore.

"Oh, it's okay, sweeetie" said the king, managing a soft smile that only came out so easily when it came to his daughter. "I am just tired, nothing else. Will probably have a bite and go straight to bed anyway. Have fun."

"Are you sure?" asked Charlie.

Lucifer nodded and gave her hand a good final squeeze before returning to his previous position, letting his cheek rest against the radio demon's cheek. Closer and lasting longer than any other creature ever had in Hell.

"Well, alright, if you say so" Charlie sighed and then gave a small pat to Alastor's back. "Let me know if something happens. We won't be far."

"Oh, please, dear, it will be fine" said Alastor with a light shrug. "Do enjoy your outing. Do not do anything I wouldn't do."

"So when you want to kill someone, use a meat knife, not a butter one!" said Niffty, already up in the counter, bag of salt under her arm. Alastor put her down again with his shadow before she could drop it over his cooked meat. He took the bag and put over the tallest shelf.

"Exactly. Unless you want to make it really painful, then by all means, use a spoon at least. For some extra humilliation."

Charlie chuckled, already used to their exchanged by now.

"Will keep it in mind," she said and got on her tip toes to kiss Alastor's cheek before she ran away, as if to avoid dealing with any consequences from it. Alastor didn't move from his place, though. He had food to take care of anyway. "Love you, guys, see you later!"

"Can I get some when it's ready?" asked Angel Dust.

"No."

"Can I?!" asked Niffty, lifting her hand.

"Of course."

Angel Dust groaned.

"Whatever! I will go eat some place without nepotism!" declared, getting out of the kitchen.

"I won't even bother asking" Husk sighed before rolling his eyes and following him.

Without so many distractions already, Alastor could relax as he kept working and Niffty made sure to prepare the table. Once everything was ready, they prepared everything. Alastor had his own plate with the meat cut and the pasta. He poked the head of Lucifer with a finger.

"Dear, are you not going to sit on your own?"

His answer came out a few seconds later, through a rumbling.

"Can I just… stay with you? I won't impede you eat, I promise."

Alastor pulled out his tentacles. First the arms were wrapped up, then the legs of the monarch, until all the small body of the king was suspended in the air as Alastor took his seat. Niffty cooed fascinated by the display, which made the whole face of the fallen light up in gold. Lucifer barely had time to protest or to attempt to get free himself when, just as quickly, he was left to sit on Alastor's lap, his legs hanging at the left of his thighs. As if mocking his shocked expression, one of the tentacles patted his head before dissapearing in the air.

"There we go" declared Alastor, rising one hand of Lucifer and getting him to close around a fork. "Is this what you had in mind, is it not?"

"Yeah, but you could have warned me" said Lucifer with a pout.

"Like how you warned me before chosing me as your personal climbing pole?"

"Hey, if you want me to get up, you just have to say it!"

"Exactly" Alastor gave him a peck on the side of his head, ignoring the cooeing noises that came from Niffty while she stand in another chair, plate already full for herself. "So how about you start eating before it gets cold?"

Lucifer sighed. Without another word to say, he started eating his pasta from Alastor's lap while Alastor could go dig in to his own meat. One hand over the waist of the king, the other picking up with a fork after a tentacle had already cut the portion he wanted to.

As usual, Lucifer finished his first while Alastor was barely half into his. As soon the last bite of the king was made, Niffty grabbed his plate, put it under hers and ran to the sink to start cleaning up. Or try to before Alastor hold her up with a tentacle, her short legs still moving in the air.

"It's okay, I won't eat anymore," said Lucifer, relaxing against the radio demon.

"Very well."

Niffty was gently put on the floor again. As soon her restraints dissolved, she ran on her way to clean up all the dishes and used pots. Alastor kept eating, now using his other hand around Lucifer. Lucifer continue to relax in the same position, neither feeling the need to fill out the silence. Niffty giggled as he chased some cockroaches with a knife. When Alastor took the last bite, as if conjured by magic, Niffty swipped over the table to take out everything that was left and carry it on. Alastor placed a hand over the lower back of Lucifer. For a few seconds, the king didn't move at all.

Slowly, as if suddenly hesitant about it, Lucifer came back to the position that he was before, holding onto Alastor with both arms and legs. Alastor stand up rather easily, even more than before. A feather of a duck would have weighted more than the king's whole body. He patted his back as he passed next to the maid anxiously scrubbing the plates like she needed to clean them to a molecular level.

"Good night, Niffty dear. Save the leftovers and stab Angel Dust if he wants to grab any."

"Yes, sir! Does the scary pretty boy need anything?" asked Niffty, fluttering her eyelashes to Lucifer, who turned to her barelly separating from the chest of Alastor.

"No, sweetie, thank you. I think I will just go to sleep for the night."

"Can I watch?!" Niffty gasped, squeezing her own cheeks with soapy hands.

"No" said Alastor before Lucifer could. He still gave a pat to Niffty's head on his way to the hallway. "Only I do that."

He almost laughed out loud when Lucifer froze, making a line out of his lips.

"Aww" They could hear the pout of Niffty followig them out.

After a while, Lucifer spoke again.

"You were joking, right?"

"Mmm, which answer would make you sleep deeper?"

"Forget I said anything."

Alastor chuckled to accompany Lucifer's groan as he came inside the elevator. The king didn't have to know how truly beautiful he was when he finally won his battle against insomnia and let imself fully rest. He didn't have to know about how his shadow followed the transformation closely, intensively, only to later transmit it to the consciousness of Alastor when he woke up the next morning. And Alastor would die again before admitting he liked to keep track of how the eyebags on Lucifer's face had almost completely dissapeared. Or how he already knew that Lucifer would sleep faster and deeper if he let him be the bigger spoon, holding him against his chest until Alastor could feel the heartbeat of the king against his own skin.

The only way for him to see any of that was through his shadows, unfortunately. Alastor could not believe how easy he had moved past his initial reservation to share his bed with someone else, to the point that presence was all he needed to finally let his mind and body rest. Safe and protected on arms that could main, kill, destroy him like a twig, and yet never did, not even when they couldn't stand each other. His bed was now incomplete without the heat coming off the devil himself.

As he came inside their bedroom, Alastor snapped away his suit for his pajama and sat on the bed. Lucifer started to separate as soon they were down and looked up. Alastor's ears twitched, confused as to why he wasn't saying anything or what kind of expression was that one. Without giving him a chance to question it, Lucifer stroked his cheek and got up on his knees to reach his lips. Just one delicate lingering kiss that Alastor actually wished lasted longer.

"Thank you" whispered Lucifer with another hug, this time only using his arms. Weight back to normal, Alastor felt the strenght of those muscles squeezing tight, but never enough to actually hurt. "It was delicious, by the way. Best food in all of Hell."

Alastor hummed with approval. He ignored the way that his tail immediately started waggling behind him.

"You are welcome" said, patting his head. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes." Lucifer inhaled once and let it go slowly. Alastor felt a slight and pleasant shock in his spine when Lucifer's claws scratched the buzzed portion of his hair. If only Lucifer wouldn't have opened up his mouth: "I am sorry for being so… pathetic. I know that must have been so annoying."

"None of that." Alastor moved slightly until he managed to see the eyes of his king. So Lucifer could look at him too and see, with that certainty only the father of lies could have, that it was nothing but the true. "Darling, don't apologize for what I openly decided to embrace on my own. If I accepted you, I didn't do it halfassedly or expecting anything less than what I already knew was coming. You aren't chaining me here or forcing me in any way, so please don't insult me by pretending like I don't have a good reason to stay with you in every state you are in."

Lucifer looked at his lips, as if he could read every word out of them. Never his eyes had looked so big and transparent as he slumped against him.

"You have the weirdest ass motivational speeches ever" said the king, as if speaking through something that got stuck on his throat. "I love you."

Even though Alastor knew it shouldn't at this point, it was still a surprise everytime he heard those words. Such a precise stab through the heart that forced another heartbeat instead of bleeding. Not many people had said those to him, either alive or dead. That is why his reply always came a second later, clumsy, like about to use a shotgun whose kick back he still wasn't sure how to handle.

"I love you too."

[sanasanakun]

Jimithon Mouthwashing is such a good representation of untreated, enabled NPD like it makes me want to squeeze the life out of him. I'm endlessly fascinated when watching him interact with his crew, surroundings, and himself because he's so fucking lost in his own sauce. It's insane. If I'm being real, it makes him my favorite character in the game.

It's a little scary to say, but watching Jimmy is like seeing a mirrored version of myself two years ago before I truly committed to treatment for my NPD. He's like a shadow. The opening line "I hope this hurts," which I believe comes from Jimmy right before the crash, is such a poignant statement. It's a simple line, but I can tell you from experience that the desire to hurt others when in a narcissistic rage is overwhelming. It's such a good line to sum up Jimmy's character in that moment. Luckily, in the real world, I had my friends and family there to catch me when I hit my lowest, even though I'd hurt them so many times. Jimmy probably could've used friends to force him into therapy (cough cough Curly cough cough)

[tariah23]

Man, I still remember participating in one of the many jjba zines that I took part in and how my piece was placed as the first page (for the second time) and how one of my mutuals/artists that I’ve always admired, hit me with the “oh… you’re on the front page again… 😅…” like man, that kind of killed me lmfao. I never got over it like man, what was that about.

[torchickentacos]

Ah, yes, Nelly Furtado's hit song Anteater. In completely unrelated news, several people have told me that I might be slightly dyslexic.

[talentforlying]

one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.

canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.

[marklikely]

really love amateur Internet horror as a whole like its a great medium for passion projects and creativity but if there's one thing id like to never ever see in the space again its "legitimately good subtle story but we added a scary monster that runs at you BWAH!!"

[arolesbianism]

I'm finally fucking free Babeyyyyyyy

[samantitaswrld]

deadpool!

….as your boyfriend.

description: deadpool as your boyfriend!

pairing: deadpool x you!

contains: 18+, mentions of sex!

|an: just saw deadpool & wolverine.. couldn’t help myself.

- awful with emotions but always finds a way to make up for things whether through humor or sex.

- speaking of humor you’re never not laughing with him, or bickering, or fucking

- you’re the only person he can actually feel vulnerable and comfortable with, he cherishes that and he loves you so much for that.

- you’re his person, he would genuinely kill for you if it meant he would lose someone so important in his life.

- if someone makes you sad, mad or uncomfortable ooo…not his babygirl.

- he usually doesn’t keep people or friends in his loop often, they could find him annoying or over the top but not you.

- you love absolutely everything about him, his outlandish humor, his extroverted personality, his big ol’ mouth. you think it’s so hot.

- so hot when he’s mean to you so hot when he’s soft with you

- you literally bicker like two teenage girls all the time and he always somehow clocks your tea it’s ridiculous but you also find it impressive that he always has something to say that you cannot come back from😭

- god you need to pray that no man ever even has the thought of coming on to you… he’ll experience some banter with your boyfriend before it’s lights out.

- not only are you his but he’s yours! he’s super loyal and if he can’t get someone to back off , you sure will!

- you’re always having fun with him date nights are some of the best times of your life, he always finds a way to entertain you no matter what you’re doing.

- always gotta hand somewhere, your ass, a singular cheek, a titty, somewhere. how could you expect him not to! you’re all his.

- you literally have him wrapped around your finger, he’d do absolutely anything for you.

- also always bullying you he is so straightforward😭

“hon that has got to be the ugliest shirt i’ve ever seen on you”

“wade-“

“i know you got better in that closet that i snoop through and try on all your clothes when you aren’t home now go!”

- he’s so tall so if you’re short oh wow…you’re never catching a break

“soooo how’s the weather down there.” wade said, placing his elbow on the crown of your head.

“prick…”

…

“yeah that’s enough of that dirty mouth!” your boyfriend had announced before bending down and wrapping an arm around your behind, throwing you over his shoulder and positioning his palm on your ass.

“god, wade put me down!” you’d laughed playfully hitting his back.

“don’t make me have to spank you!” he said, lighting pinching your ass.

- do not get an animal bc it will quickly become his center of attention and he will defend it over you.

“wade, we’re having my mom over please put it in the room”

“ugh…she’s so mean isn’t she sugar?” he’d said stroking your pet, followed by a “yes she is yes she is!” as the animal licked his face.

sigh.

- good lord we got a cuddle monster on our hands!

- absolutely adores any type of affection and practically begs you for it 24/7. he loves being little spoon specifically. also loves it when u scratch or message his back, bc that also gets him going..

- speaking of, you got this guy rock solid 24/7

“hungry for seconds?” he joked, hugging you from behind and pressing his hardened cock against your ass.

“we literally jus-“ you’d started just to be interrupted mid sentence.

“so! cmon baby throw a dog a bone.” he muttered, hand already gripping your inner thigh.

you’d sighed, god you can’t resist him.

- it doesn’t matter what you’re doing he finds anything you do hot i stg

- a M-U-N-C-H! for life, literally came in his pants from eating you out once! he loves making you feel good.

- a goofball during sex he cannot do shit seriously😭 he be talking you and your pussy thru it!

- again, if you’re petite god help you bc he is large.

- babe, you better match his freak because yall doing anything.

- trying a new thing every night multiple times bc that sex is never vanilla and that dick is never tired! at some point he’s just making positions up😭

[nottswitch]

need us having a guy over and hooking up with him while sister’s bf!theo is there and he can hear. how would he react?

⋆౨ৎ sister’s bf!theo hears you fucking his bsf mattheo

nav // aus / sister’s bf!theo // more

well hi there. we’re fucking his bsf matty here, i hope you don’t mind 🤭 i’ve been waiting to write this for so long, and finally we’re getting to it, so buckle up !!

warnings: 18+ mdni, voyeurism, masturbating (m), implied unprotected p in v, implied creampie, hair pulling, cursing, mentions of cheating

the sound of music coming from of your room is pretty much a habit at this point. theo isn’t surprised when he hears a faint sound of some chase atlantic song, chuckling to himself – god, you’re annoying with this band, much like his best friend, who always puts them on when he’s on aux duty. theo places his spare keys on the small vanity at the door – he’s come to wait for your sister, who had to run some errands this afternoon.

but as he walks further into the apartment, planning to make himself some coffee in the kitchen, he has to stop and listen closer. the music is suddenly not the only thing he can hear. his eyebrows knit together as he starts to distinguish… moans? he’s never heard you moaning like that before, that freely and loudly. whenever you were with him, under his mouth and fingers, your sounds were always low, stifled, always under threat of being exposed. now… you were unashamed and loud as hell.

despite himself, theo starts walking in the direction of your room. he can’t help being drawn there, and he curses quietly as he feels his cock starting to harden in his jeans – you sound that good. however, as he closes in, he hears something else, something that makes his frown deepen significantly. another set of moans and groans, male. there’s no fucking way.

surprisingly, or not, the door to your room is cracked open. of course, theo is a weak, weak man, and he has to know, has to confirm his assumptions. as he peers into the crack, he nearly chokes on air. there, on your bed, you’re in a very delicious position, ass up face down, your hands fisting the sheets as a guy pounds into you from behind, his fingers firmly digging into your hips. and not just any guy – theo’s very best friend, mattheo.

fucking chase atlantic. should’ve been a dead giveaway.

theo feels a wave of pure jealousy wash over him as he watches his friend take you in a way that theo could only dream of. he’s gonna kill him, he thinks – mattheo is fully aware of everything going on between you and theo, and still, he decided go against every single variation of bro code in existence… he almost groans aloud, having to bite his bottom lip to silence himself. the scene in front on him has no business being this hot.

without really thinking, theo unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, his hard cock eagerly springing out and already leaking at the tip. his hand closes around the base, his breathing turning shallow as he watches mattheo grab a fistful of your hair to pull your body up against his chest.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he hears his friend growl into your ear, thrusting deeper and eliciting a sweet, high-pitched moan out of you. theo grits his teeth as his hand starts stroking his cock, the rage he feels towards mattheo mixing with his burning arousal. precum drips down his length, his fingers smearing it all over, and he has to be slower than he wants to be in order not to give himself away by the slick sounds of him jerking off.

"my mate is a fucking idiot, missing out on all this." mattheo’s words make theo’s free hand curl into a fist, the desire to punch his friend overridden only by the pleasure he’s feeling as he starts pumping his other hand faster. he knows mattheo is right – theo has been the one refusing to fuck you so far, because apparently that would be cheating on your sister, and him dry humping you into oblivion every chance he gets isn’t. but this realization doesn’t make it easier; it makes it harder, in more ways than one.

mattheo’s pace inside of you grows quicker, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and at this point, the entire apartment. theo’s lips part as he watches your body move along with his friend’s thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down and making his mouth go dry. his cock twitches in his hold, and he feels his orgasm inching closer and closer with every moan you let out.

"you close, baby?" he hears mattheo’s ragged whisper, and your frantic nod is almost all it takes to bring theo over the edge. he can’t believe himself – he’s jacking off to the sight of his best friend fucking you, and he’s about to witness you cum on his dick. no wonder you will, he’s seen mattheo’s dick himself, it’s a goddamn fuck machine…

when your whole body shakes, and your voice grows hoarse from the pleasured moan you let out at your orgasm, theo can’t hold himself back – he spills into his hand, bracing himself against the wall by leaning on his forearm. the sticky mess of his cum seeping through his fingers is a shameful reminder of what has just happened – he jerked himself off watching his best mate fuck you. god, was it really worth it? the post-nut clarity is strong, and it only gets worse when he witnesses mattheo not even thinking of pulling out when he cums. this fucking bastard…

theo decides for himself right that moment that he absolutely needs to fuck you, his pride be damned – not like he has much of it left anyway. and maybe punch mattheo a couple of times.

[cathnospam]

Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?