#that's right bitches i grew one centimeter

[mins-fins]

i am officially matthew height

[starry-skies-116]

Personality Facts +More- Samuel Lee Witwicky (AU):

Introverted Pisces INFJ, what more can I say?

Autism, hyperphantasia, alexithymia.

The type of person to drink tea in the morning, also the type of person to prefer picnics on a spring day when the weather hits JUST right-

Also, Samuel’s def the type of person to love white chocolate sm. It’s one of his safe foods. One of his other preferred safe foods are those sour lychee candies/gummies. He actually has a whole list, in fact: among them include mac n cheese, specific sandwiches he buys from the deli, cake, fried rice, mooncakes, pancakes, bread with sprinkles and butter, REALLY well-made hot chocolate, home-cooked hotpot, potstickers, ramen, boba, california rolls, etc. Basically anything that’s warm and comforting.

He does like to eat ice cream, though- but every time he, Mikaela and Heidi go to get some he literally orders the same flavor and toppings every time (god me too).

Stomps on crunchy leaves in autumn when he thinks nobody’s looking 😗

Has way too many house plants that his mother always lets die. He never figures out why they always seemingly revive and regain their vitality near his presence until later events.

Has two or three plushies, one of which he sleeps with (and then there’s Heidi with a whole ass army of them-)

Loves to stargaze at the night sky, daydreaming about the life beyond there and fantasizing/planning obsessively over how his interactions with them will go if he were the one to make first contact (don’t tell him any spoilers now shhshshshhssh-)

Uses lots of emoticons when texting, especially ones like ‘:)’ ‘:3’ ‘:D’ ‘:(‘ and ‘<3’

Perceived as a cat person because of how mellow, non-confrontational and demure he acts, actually loves all animals (drawn to dogs to put some energy in his life because mans fr mimics behaviors similar to a cat sometimes sssshhhhh ♥️)

Typos/spelling errors frustrate him immensely, though he does his best not to show it (it doesn’t work lmao)

Mikaela and Heidi are his next-door neighbors, as well as his friends since childhood: they met when they were all five. Their friendship began to develop slowly due to many other factors in their life, but as they grew older they began to have the opportunities to spend more time together. The events of them crossing their own fates with that of the Autobots only served to make them further inseparable and strengthen their bonds. 

They literally evolve from average supportive friendship still blooming awkwardly to ‘THIS IS MY BEST BITCH. WE ARE ONE UNIT. WE RIDE OR DIE.'

Sam primarily holds the role of the ‘default brain cell holder’ in the group. In other words, he holds the brain cell that they all share.

He’s also the shortest in the friend group, even though he’s average height and the height difference is in literal centimeters to the point where it’s barely noticeable (he’s 5’3/160 cm, Mikaela is 5’6/167 cm, and Heidi is 5’4/162.6 cm)

Elusive, enigmatic, secretive and reserved. Has all the traits of a leader and is decisive, despite being rather cautious and always opting for a peaceful solution. Strives to be kinder and wiser every day, so he can finally understand and truly connect with others. Prefers to keep things to himself- always shrewd and observant around people. Exceptionally prodigious beyond his years, master strategist, scientist and leader. He’s used to learning from his mistakes and making the best of bad situations, so he often denies any kind of pain he’s in no matter how severe it is.

That, or he literally does not recognize his pain at all. It takes him at least three to five business days at minimum for him to figure out his feelings and needs if those said sensations prolong for an extended period of time. If intense emotions flare up and then vanish just a moment after, it’ll fly right underneath his identification radar.

He’s sometimes prone to dissociative episodes to escape situations that remind him of trauma. Even with the AllSpark’s/Primus’s memories, anything that remotely triggers the traumatic parts of them causes him to slip into either a meltdown or a dissociative episode because of the emotions he feels and associates with them. Even when the memories are not Samuel’s… they still mean so much to him for no reason at all.

He spent his elementary and middle school years being homeschooled, and then the first time he’s ever been enrolled in public school was his Freshman Year.

His most exceptional traits are his curiosity, his compassion, and the sheer amount of effort he puts into trying to understand and communicate with others purely out of his kindness and care for people.

Samuel is very patient- however, that patience is born out of passivity. His lack of experience in social situations with those other than his friends, as well as a period in that time of bullying and ostracization, made him afraid to stick up for himself and to state his boundaries. When he came out to his parents and asked to transition on his thirteenth birthday, he was genuinely so scared that he was about to pass out.

As a result of his lack of socializing, he has a somewhat poor grasp of social interaction. His limited emotional expression and composed, impartial demeanor comes off as a bit eccentric and distant. Due to this, he admits to needing to study human emotions and ‘regular’ human interaction more. (autistic mood)

Sam loves to make either mental or physical note of things in his head that he deems of interest. Often, surprisingly they are odd but useful details that he somehow finds a way to utilize to his advantage.

Detests conflict, and always tries to negotiate and help people via kindness and not throwing hands. Despite the love he has and gives, he doesn’t really believe that he can ever protect anyone- not in a way that makes a difference. At the end of the day, all he wants is for people to get along.

Very observant of his surroundings- too observant. He jokingly refers to it as ‘gathering intelligence’, which isn’t too far off. Sensory issues essentially force him to pay attention to each and every little detail- but Samuel always insists that it’s fine, because ‘he’s used to it’ (shit explanation my guy-)

His favorite color changes from week to week- oftentimes it’s a whole color palette instead of just one color.

His camera roll isn’t really what you’d expect from someone as quiet and reserved as him: it’s full of cursed images, memes, stimboards, selfies of important moments with his friends, pictures of school notes and his workplace environment, and pictures of his dog.

He comes from a relatively wealthy family, but from the part-time jobs that he takes, he saves up money to buy more books, as well as anything that captivates him/immediately takes his interest hostage upon first glance (like I’m not kidding, it’s legit on-sight)

Whenever he’s captivated or genuinely, truly interested or enamored with something, he reacts like a cat in response to seeing shiny things. His eyes widen and get brighter, and his pupils dilate. He does barely noticeable stims (such as fiddling with his bracelet or jade pendant), and he leans closer, shuffling his feet to approach closer and closer without even realizing it.

He loves finding interesting rocks/geodes on occasion, and secretly making DIY-at-home jewelry at his part-time mechanic job with them and the equipment at his workbench. To get away with it, he arrives early, before his shift begins. He then shares the product with those he makes (whenever he isn’t burnt out): it’s his love language, finding cool rocks and making them into ‘socially acceptable’ gifts because he fears rejection sm 💔

Literally a sci-fi nerd. Gushes over shit like Star Wars and Star Trek and all that: has written novels and drawn fan art before, and basically died inside when Mikaela and Heidi discovered his stash in the closet when he was ten (bullied for his interests because other people can be assholes sometimes). He thought they both would leave him and never want to associate with him again, turns out they spent the next hour squealing over their blorbos, writing up headcanons/theories, and finding makeshift tools to cosplay characters.

Can’t relax his mind to save his life, honestly. There’s always a bottomless pit in his mind of ‘you are not doing enough, do enough so you can relax’ but it’s never enough. Whenever he’s restless, he fiddles with his clay bead bracelet or his jade pendant so that he doesn’t let his mind wander or race to places he doesn’t want it to go.

Low self-esteem, beats himself up for every mishap and mistake- (RSD guys, it sucks major ass-). Still has the occasional intrusive thought that nobody actually loves him, they just tolerate/ ‘put up with’ him, due to his childhood of being somewhat sheltered and socially ostracized by literally every kid except for his only two friends.

Even when he deadass has not only two friends, but a federal agent, the lead researcher of N.E.S.T, and a WHOLE GIANT FCKIN ROBOT ALIEN ARMY ready to straight commit WAR-CRIMES FRESH FROM THE OVEN FOR HIM at a MOMENT’S notice-

Dances as a hobby, loves to sketch scenery. He visits the city’s theater every other Saturday to greet and play with the kids living around that area who also come to visit. Community and connection is important to him, since he was deprived of several life experiences in his childhood.

As smart as he is, he desires nothing more than to learn with hands-on experience. He’s spent the entirety of his sheltered upbringing learning from books.

Literal GOD in the kitchen. He spent his entire childhood being somewhat sheltered, so he’s developed quite the pantheon of hobbies that he revolves his day around in his pastime. Baking sweets for others particularly makes him happy.

Living in symbiosis with the AllSpark embedded in your literal heart is… an experience, to say the least. Nevertheless, he finds a way to navigate the experience with the help of his family and friends.

Has a brotherly relationship with Bumblebee and it’s seriously one of the most wholesome things ever. Like seriously, when he called Bumblebee “gēge” on accident (“older/big brother” in Chinese), Bro just… had to physically resist the urge to straight up curl into a fetal position on the floor and cry pure joy. Mans was straight grinning from pure elation from one side of his visor to the other once he used his translators and realized what it meant-

Literally, Autobots like Ratchet and Optimus and Ironhide, etc etc… they will literally take ONE look at this guy watching the beat of a butterfly’s wings or something and immediately go: “mmmm yes he is very much son-shaped”

He can’t really read tone or social cues, ESPECIALLY when it comes to being directed at him. Whenever Jazz is being sarcastic or makes jokes that he can’t recognize the tone of, Samuel becomes so genuinely confused. And speaking of that, one of his habits when he’s confused and/or straining his mind to try and understand something, is to tilt his head and cross his arms with a finger raised to his lips to tap against it. Once again, it’s one of his stims that pops up when he’s trying really hard to discern an answer, or a proper way to navigate an unfamiliar situation with little clues.

[cipheramnesia]

Sonny let go of the rope and dropped between earth and hull. Wayne and Duke waited, holding up flashlights, and Sonny scoped it out. Looked like some ancient civs billshit missed on the clear, happened all the time. Ritual purposes bullshit. "Well genius," he addressed this to Duke, "You're the one who said she was down here." Sonny gestured to the empty expanse, making sure his widespread arms directed their full attention to the vast quantity of nothing around them. "Where is she?"

Wayne crouched down and pointed at few small indentations around a long stretch of what looked like thin veins. "Trail stopped right here, boss. Check it out." Sonny checked and Wayne held the light close up. Close enough to see the scuffs from the wolf bitch's feet and a wide portion of the alien civs surface carrying markedly less accumulated dirt. "She didn't come this way by accident. Someone let her in. She knew it was here all along."

Duke kicked the surface aimlessly while Sonny ran fingers over what he figured was a sealed trap door. "Workin tech, is it worth anything?"

"Scrap maybe," said Wayne. "Look at this." He took out a pocket knife and jabbed the door, put the blade in half a centimeter. "Maybe some kinda plastic or something, it's tough but worthless. Hell I could cut my way in give or tale a couple hours."

Sonny pounded on the surface, it thumped unsatisfactorily, with no echo. "Come out outta there little mutt, don't make me come get you!" His voice was satisfyingly loud, but failed to echo as well. "Fuck it," he stood up and brushed off his hands on his jeans. "Duke, head back and get safe cracking bag outta the hopper, the big one with the red warning label. We'll blow it open."

● ● ● ● ●

She could still taste the scabbers. The shells had an ethanol bitterness that couldn't be escaped, and the meat was oily, its rancid rotten fish and seaweed flavor clinging to the inside of her mouth. "I'm going to need clothes," she said to no one, which apparently was who the freakishly unaccented voice belonged to.

"It was not necessary to utilize them for cleaning purposes, and your cultural attachment to secondary adornment with soulless dross is indicative of your overall weakness as a species."

She could not shake off the smell of the things but she wasn't hungry anymore, and they'd been walking together for awhile. "Hey buddy, that's the longest sentence you said to me."

"Thank you. It is my hope that you may one day find a way to implement your freedom with my guidance."

It took awhile to adjust to the harsh red lighting, and what seemed like a huge excess of vaulted ceilings and walkways she could lie across without touching either side. Voice reminded her she was short again. She really needed something to call it. Maybe Clarence, it sounded a little Clarence-like. Nah. "Hey, are we there yet? How long have we been walking?"

"I didn't mean it as encouragement." She'd seen more of the inside of what she kept calling a ship, over voice's protests that her crude human language did not include the necessary expression to describe what it was, than she'd seen of the house she grew up in. Even on a fairly direct path she'd gone up several flights of very large, steep stairs, passing through endless halls with bioluminous networks along their edges, and in some places what she was pretty sure were places it used to breathe.

"By your time, you have been walking about fifty three minutes. I, however, remain sedentary, and immobile. As we have discussed, and I have reminded you, I am unable to move at the present moment, but find myself keenly aware of your claim to offer aid in this capacity."

"Oh for fucking Luna's breath shut up-"

"Also, you are here. Please turn around and find the handholds to the nearest airlock on my bulkhead."

She turned around. Of course the ladder was built for someone almost twice her size, but she found she could climb it after a little experimenting. "Okay, how do I open it?" The hatch opened and she hauled herself up to the airlock, more giant sized handholds and she reached the outer door.

"When you exit, there should be a series of... well, you should look for oval shapes about eight feet long to the port- Hmm, let's say to what is your right side currently, and then follow three ovals down to the two smaller intakes- Hmm, smaller, deeply indented set of three circles. One of these will have an opening, and you may place the carbon latices into it."

She grimaced, and swallowed a growl over the baby talk. "Just drop them in?"

"As you say. Just drop them in."

"Seems simple enough." The hatch lifted, then parted into four segments, withdrawing into the hull as she climbed out. Her grunts echoed through the cavern, before she realized it was other voices and not am echo.

Squinting showed a couple lights in the distance with two silhouetted figures who had started waving their arms with agitation and shouting. Shouting at her and calling her a bitch.

She dropped down into the airlock as gunshots pinged around the airlock edge.

"Close it, close it close it!"

"Those men are discharging what seem to be crude firearms, even by your species' standards."

"Wow," she said. "I hadn't noticed. Nothing's ever simple."

"That is, in fact, the very nature of the universe itself."

Sorry everyone I was thinking about the lonely werewolf tgirl and her friend the sentient intergalactic magic warship again. 🥺

[klarex]

hiii <3 hope ur day is going well! can i please request reader is apart of the bad guys before the gala and mr wolf gets jealous when a guy flirts w/ them ?

Hello! I'm really tired today, but here it is a long fic just for you :)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: jealous Wolf, swearing, flirting, flustred Wolf and reader, blood, maybe a little spicy moment ;)

Summary: Wolf don't really like when someone flirts with you.

Paring: Mr. Wolf x reader

Bar

Not my gif

Pov. Y/n

Me and the gang finally have some free time for ourselves and Wolf invited me for a drink. He told me to be ready in 2h and we will be heading to this new bar in town.

I ran to my room and opened my wardrobe.

Frick. I need to wear something, but I don't have anything!

I throw things around searching and then an idea popped inside my head.

Webs.

I quickly got up and ran to her room. I knocked on her door. Then I heard a loud "come in". I opened the door only to see her playing on her computer.

- Webs. I need your help.

- Hm? What's up?

- Me and Wolf are going to the bar and I need your advice.

I said panicking. She paused the game and looked at me.

- Okey then! Go to your room and I will meet you there.

She said and I walked back to my room. I started to brush my hair to calm myself. The door burst open.

- Okey. So first you don't want to look like a slut and I prefer you to wear something casual, but also formal.

She said and looked through my closet.

When we were done with clothes, she helped me with my makeup and my hair.

- Thank you Webs for helping me.

- Yeah.. yeah.. you will buy me a drink later. Now go to your lover and have fun.

She said and I blushed while walking to Wolf.

- Oh! Hey Y/n. I just wanted to go for you.

He said smiling and I smiled back.

- By the way, you look really beautiful today Y/n~

I blushed again. He was wearing his suit. White shirt with black trousers and marine.

- T- Thanks.. Y- you look handsome yourself..

His smile grew bigger as he thanked me. He leaded me to his car and we jumped into it.

When we drove off from our base and we were going into the direction of new bar I felt a hand on my thigh. I blushed and looked at Wolf who was looking on the road smiling then he looked at me for a second.

- Is this okey, darling~?

He asked and I nodded. He looked back on the road.

When we parked he opened door for me and we went inside.

Bar was not small, but not big tho. There were some tables with chairs and in the middle of the room there was a dance floor. On the right side of the room there was a bar with tall chairs. There were a lot of people and music was playing really loud.

- Have fun, dear!

I nearly heard Wolf, because of the music that was playing in the background. I smiled and saw Wolf walking to the bar. I looked at some people in the front and saw my old friend.

- Y/n! It's you! Hey!

She waved at me and I came closer to her.

- Heey! Long time no see!

I said loudly and laughed with her. We shared a little chit chat, but I felt someone's eyes on my back for the whole time, I just ignored it.

- Oh! Y/n. I know someone who would like to meet you!

She said excited and dragged me through a dance floor to one of the tables.

- Y/n this is Mike. Mike this is my old friend Y/n.

She said and Mike took my hand and brought it closer to his lips.

- It's pleasure to meet you Y/n~

He placed a soft kiss on my hand. I took it back blushing softly.

- So Y/n, do you have a boyfriend, maybe?

F/n asked and I shook my head no. Mike smirked.

- You want to change that~?

Mike asked and got closer to me. I started to move away from him, but he put his hands around my waist, so I can't leave. I looked around for F/n, but she wasn't there anymore.

This stupid bitch!

She thinks I'm a slut or something?!

I thought and looked at Mike who was only centimeters away from me. I tried to get away from him again, but his arms were to strong.

- Fuck..

I mumbled.

- There is no exit Y/n~

When he said that I saw Wolf behind him angry as I never saw him. Seconds later Mike was laying on a ground with blood covering his face. I looked up at Wolf who had blood on his knuckles and a few drops of liquid on his white shirt.

- Don't YOU ever touch HER again, understand?!! YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!!

I didn't saw anything. I was shocked.

- We should be going if we don't want to end up in prison.

He said and we ran into the car. He turned it on and we drove home. While driving surprisingly there were no cops behind us. I sighned deeply.

- Thank you Wolf.. for saving me..

I said and looked down. He just nodded really not wanting to talk about this.

When we stopped home Wolf got to the bathroom for a shower to clean himself from blood. I went to my room to change myself into something more comfy. Later I sat on a sofa and turn on the tv. They were talking about something that happened in other countries, but really I wasn't listening. I just thought about that moment over and over again.

Why did he tell him that?

Was he jealous?

Does he like me?

No. It's not possi-

I was cut by a waving hand in front of my face and calling my name.

- Earth to Y/n!

I shook my head and looked at a person next to me. It was Wolf. Of course it was him. He was wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt.

- What? Did you said something?

- I asked what are you watching, but I see you weren't actually paying attention to the tv..

He said and looked into my eyes then chuckled. I opened my mouth to say something, but was cut by a woman on a tv.

- -we found a man covered in blood in our new bar. We are searching for a person who did it, but also we are thankful for that, cause it was a villan that police was searching for a long time now. Thank you-

- Huh.. look at that. I saved your life plus I did something good for town. Strange feeling..

He said and I chuckled.

- I got a question for you Wolf..

I mumbled, unsure if that's a good idea.

- Hm?

Okey, now or never.

I took a deep breath.

- Were you jealous?

I asked quietly and he froze.

- Heh.. Me jealous? Never. Hehe...

He said while nervous laughing. He was blushing.

Okey he is lying and he is nervous, but I can use this..

I felt all the confidence start to fill me. I leaned to him and he nervously moved back away from me. When we reached the end of a sofa I was pinning him down, his head between my hands. I leaned my face closer to his. I decided to ask the same question again.

- Were you jealous, Mr. Wolf~?

He was blushing madly and his tail was slightly wagging. He just gulped and slowly nodded his head.

- Do you love me, Wolf~?

His tail started wagging faster and I chuckled. I leaned in, closing my eyes only to feel his lips on mine. He relaxed and kissed me back with passion. He put his hands on my cheeks and his legs wrapped around my waist bringing me closer to him. I fell on his, chest breaking the kiss. I brought my hand to his little sweet spot behind his ears and gently scratched it. His ears fell down in pleasure.

- You like it?

- Y- y- yeah...

I smirked and stopped what I was doing. He looked at me and I kissed him again with same passion as he did earlier. He wrapped his arms around my waist. Then we heard someone clearing their throat. We immediately pulled away and looked into their direction. We saw the rest of the gang watching us. We were blushing madly.

- Can both of you save it for later?

Snake groaned.

- Yeah. We just got an idea for another robbery.

Shark said. I looked at Webs who was wiggling her eyebrows.

Ugh.. I hate them..

masterlist

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rusted Remnants

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x mutant!Reader

Warnings: past noncon, smut, dirty talk, Stockholm syndrome, violence, mention of human experiments, swearing.

Words: 1924.

Summary: You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother.

____________________

When a bearded man in sunglasses opened the door with a grinding, abrasive sound, you felt both fear and relief - Heisenberg was a mean son of a bitch who couldn’t stand people crossing him on anything, and you learned that the hard way. However, thanks to that insanely strong bastard who could smash in a Lycan’s skull with one swing of his hammer, you were still safe in his hideout, not having to worry about mutilated monsters this place was swarming with.

Besides, even though Heisenberg was as rotten and disgusting as any other Lord, he still had more human in him than Dimitrescu, Beneviento and Moreau altogether.

“Did you miss me, little monster?” He smirked, watching you laying in bed with some cheap romance novel you traded for bullets with the Duke: you had little hobbies since you barely left Heisenberg’s factory.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he hadn���t been home for a couple of days and now needed to get under your skin, feeding off your emotions like Alcina fed off her victims’ blood. It was something like a routine to him: he needed to know you had something human in you, too.

“Who else do you expect me to miss?” you snorted, leaving a worn book with a dirty yellow cover on the bed. “You know I don’t like when you leave for so long.”

“It’s not like I like it either.”

Leaving his monstrous hammer on the table full of blueprints, drawings, nails and all other things you were forbidden to touch, he took his glasses off, and you saw his weary eyes, the blood vessels widened in their white. It didn't happen often, but from time to time Heisenberg would abandon his façade of a smug, careless bastard, and then you could catch a glimpse of a deadly tired man who had long lost any hope to ever free himself from Miranda’s death grip. Something had happened in those couple of days when he had been wandering the woods and catacombs filled with Lycans, Samcăs, and Vârcolacs, and it certainly wasn’t good news if it stripped Heisenberg of his endless complacency.

Quietly slipping away from the bed, you put your shoes on while the man in front of you left his coat hanging on a chair and stilled, his dirty hands on the desk as he stared at it blankly. While he stood there, motionless, you turned on the large faucet in an improvised shower cabin - everything there had been old and rusty, and you needed time to adjust the temperature of water from icy cold to bearable cool or even hot if you were lucky enough. Thankfully, Karl never protested against showering, washing away dry blood, machine oil, muck and filth.

Saying nothing, you carefully lifted his hat, unclasped the belt on his chest and started unbuttoning his dirty shirt - nobody would believe it had been white once. Finally, Heisenberg came back to his senses, smirking and letting you strip him of his clothes, leaving his pants and huge heavy boots on the floor. As he stepped into the shower, he dragged you with him behind the old plastic curtains full of holes, and your nightgown got drenched within a couple of seconds, water pouring over your head. You didn’t protest anymore, knowing the man wouldn’t let you go until he blew off some steam, pushing you into a wet stone wall and wrecking you ass till you started sobbing - he loved when you squeezed his fat cock with your pussy, but Heisenberg couldn’t risk getting you pregnant, leaving his child to be endlessly tortured by that holy bitch until she turned his baby into some fucking monster doll. Sometimes he could buy some condoms from the Duke, but it was still a rare occasion, so most of the time Heisenberg spent using your other holes, filling you to the brim with his cum until he felt satisfied.

"Wearing that white nightgown like some noble slut from Alcina's castle." he growled into your ear from behind, grinding against your ass, his callous fingers gripping your hips as he forced you spread your legs for him. "Did you do it on purpose, baby? Did you want to bounce on my cock so bad?"

Turning your head to him, you didn't get a chance to speak up when the man crashed his mouth into yours, his arm lifting up the drenched fabric of your nightgown and baring your flesh. Landing a loud smack to your ass, he grinned through the kiss: he loved it when you behaved well around him, taking whatever he was giving you like a good girl you were.

You didn’t mind. At first the thought of him touching you had been giving you panic attacks and nausea, but as years flew by, nothing changing in this Hell of a place where sanity was a privilege, you clung to Heisenberg in a desperate attempt to feel human again - even if it was something as primitive as grinding your bodies against each other.

As he rubbed his cock in between your shaking thighs pressed together, you moaned, the water cascading down your bodies while Heisenberg fondled your breasts, biting and nipping his way down your neck.

"You're going nowhere until I fuck the shit out of you."

_________

Breathing in the smell of his Cuban cigars, you watched Heisenberg smoke as he laid close to you, his naked body barely covered by a blanket: his skin was littered with nasty scars, and it seemed like every centimeter of it had once been burned, cut or bitten. Some of them were so old you could barely see them, others relatively knew where the scar tissue was still angry red and thick: most of the time he got them while working on his personal army down there, but with his regenerative abilities they were like a kitten bite to him. Of course, even of they weren't, Heisenberg would still pretend like it was nothing, wearing his shit-eating grin.

"The holy whore is up to something," he says after long minutes of silence, ash falling to the floor from his cigar, "and I don't like that I know fucking nothing of her plans."

You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother. You couldn't call him sane, but he had enough sanity to remember what Miranda did to all of you and how fucking twisted was her desire to have a family. You weren't her children, regardless how many times Moreau was going to call her his mother. Whatever she did to you or those miserable villagers, her cannon fodder, she did only to revive her real daughter, and the thought had been making you sick since the times Heisenberg told you about Miranda's past.

"You think it's something big?"

"Yeah. She keeps disappearing into thin air, and I can't find a trace of her anywhere at all."

You grew silent, staring at the blanket with empty eyes: it certainly wasn't a good sign. Where was she going if even Heisenberg couldn't locate her? Was she crossing the forest to get to the outer world? The last time it happened she brought to the world one more horrifying monster with a face of a little girl. The only thing you knew about her was that she was destroyed a couple of years ago, just a failed experiment like all those Miranda had been involved in.

"I think she partners up with someone, some organization that can give her what she wants like, you knew, she did before." You muttered, and Heisenberg stared at you, narrowing his frightening light eyes.

"With whom could the old bitch partner?"

"I don't know, but I know she brought someone with her, willingly or not."

Now you had his full attention as he turned to you, his eyes burning a hole in your face. "Who did she bring here? How the fuck do you know?"

Rolling over to your stomach and hugging a pillow - a real pillow you got from the Duke a month ago, not that pile of garbage the man had been sleeping on for ages - you let out a loud sigh. You weren’t eager to go exploring the factory even though you knew where his soldiers were, but you couldn't just stay in his room for the rest of your days, and sometimes you would get out for a couple of hours, wandering empty corridors with rusted doors.

At first it was subtle. You knew this place well, but you couldn't sense monsters or people getting in the way Miranda did even after Cadou implantation. You just wandered the same places over and over, collecting semi-precious stones, bullets and other things you could trade for something with a merchant. As the time flew by, the feeling of uneasiness was washing over you as you stepped into certain rooms, got into certain places. There was nothing peculiar there, nothing that would catch your attention, but something was still eating you up as if you knew something wasn't right.

At one point you realized that what disturbed you were things moving from their original places - changes were small, barely noticeable for someone who didn't spend hundreds of hours walking around here, but you could know put your finger on what was wrong. Who was it? You knew it weren't the Lords who had no business here. Besides, the Master of Metal could always feel their presence. Obviously, it weren't humans from the village for whom the factory was sacred, and monsters possessed too little intelligence to put things on their places in the very same order. You thought it could be Mother Miranda, but she wouldn't be sneaky if she really wanted to show Heisenberg his place.

Now it all made sense. You knew the outer world would learn about this place sooner or later, especially after that monster girl incident, and it only proved the idea Miranda brought someone with her.

"I think it's someone smart, Karl. Someone who will either destroy Miranda or try to take control of her - and us, maybe." You said after telling him about your little adventures, and the man smirked, stroking your back. Of course, after her little Eveline had been released into the world, he had thoughts about other organizations having their fair share of Megamycete,

“Someone we can use against her, then.” He whispered, his eyes dark and perceptive as he leant closer, dropping a kiss to your shoulder, his complacency getting back as he sent you a smug grin, slapping your ass loudly. “Good job, little monster. Good job.”

Rolling you over on your back, he got on top of you, pushing your legs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your naked pussy right in front of him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“I’ve forgot to tell you baby," he grinned at you when you squirmed from his touch, his thumb already tracing tiny little circles against your clit. “I’ve got a rubber, so you better milk me dry with that sweet little cunt of yours.”

[binglesbanglesbabies]

Hysterectomy, PCOS, Hashimotos, etc

Before things get too far ahead of me, I thought I needed to take the time to sit down and write out this post.

First of all: for anyone who is currently considering hysterectomy out there, or has been told they need one for one reproductive problem or another, and is searching the internet desperately for the ‘what ifs’ and ‘outcomes’, let me just say this: breathe.

I know, not all cases are going to be like mine, but I want to go ahead and put my experience out there, and it’s ALL GOOD, so if you’re desperately looking for some GOOD NEWS, you found it.

Background: I have Hashimotos and PCOS, which causes a veritable STORM of problems in my body. Symptoms galore. The worst was when my period decided it was going to keep coming back every other week and it made me anemic. (low red cell count, low iron, all the fun stuff). I was MISERABLE. Combined with my various OTHER symptoms from both issues (high blood pressure, liver and kidney problems, mood problems, sleep problems, headaches, etc etc) my PCP (that’s primary care physician) finally looked at me months after trying to wrangle the anemia in line and it just kept getting worse, and said: “With everything that’s wrong with you, have you ever considered hysterectomy?” with a cringe. I nearly leapt across the room in tears to hug him. I’d been trying for almost three years to find someone to do that for me after already losing one ovary to a cyst that grew to 10 centimeters (yeah, you read that right).

So, long story short, PCP was able to give me a referral to a different OB/GYN who was willing to work with me despite my ‘young age/lack of children, yada yada yada’, and I will NEVER be more grateful, let me tell you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I got the usual ‘cautionary tale’ from the OB/GYN, as per usual (Oh, you’re going to go into premature menopause, and you’re going to lose all sex drive, and blah blah blah) and I was just like: Sir, I would like to stop bleeding my life away, who gives a fuck. I don’t have ANY sex drive at present, because I’m too god-damned tired and out of breath to even walk from one end of the house to the other because of the anemia, and my body is so fucked up from the hormonal imbalances caused by my OTHER hormonal issues, I wouldn’t even know. Hot flashes? Have those. Mood swings? Have those too. Give me a break. Besides all that, I’m Ace, have no S/O, and take care of my disabled mother. I don’t want children, don’t have TIME for children, ain’t interested in pleasing anybody but myself, and if I’m not interested in a night with my ‘special toy box’ well then that’s all right with me.

After a brief fight with the insurance (which didn’t want to pay for my surgery OF COURSE), I got my hysterectomy.

IMMEDIATELY after surgery, I noticed a HUGE change. I’m talking the MOMENT I woke up.

This body had been in PAIN. NON-STOP. And I didn’t even know it. I didn’t even know it until my uterus and remaining ovary were gone, and the pain of surgery was so MINIMAL compared to the pain I had experienced BEFORE surgery, that I could have DANCED out of that damned hospital if they didn’t have me hooked up to more devices than I even want to name. The nurses couldn’t believe that I didn’t want pain meds, but I seriously DID NOT FEEL A THING. In fact, it wasn’t until about 3-4 days AFTER surgery, that the surgery pain finally faded, and I realized I HAD IN FACT been in pain after surgery, but it was SO FREAKING MINIMAL, that I hadn’t noticed.

Let me tell you something I would NEVER go back to that pain, I don’t care what anyone offered me, I would rather die.

My mood lifted (of coursee it did, I wasn’t in crippling pain all the time anymore), I’ve had less headaches, sleep is still sketchy, but my blood pressure improved (again, less pain will do that) even my Hashimotos briefly improved. (I say briefly because Hashimotos is a tricky bitch and nothing ever lasts with it..) My red cell count has finally stabilized, though almost six months later we’re still waiting on the iron to catch up.

Physically, my freakin’ BODY changed. I mean SWELLING went down all OVER my body. Puffiness from my face, limbs, tummy, all of it. It wasn’t THAT drastic, but there’s a difference enough that people ask if I’ve lost weight and tell me I look SO much better.

Not to make too much of a point on it, but yes, even the swelling of my vulva and labia went down, which shocked the hell out of me. My clit reappeared, go figure. And that ‘sex drive’ I was supposed to lose? Um, Hell No. I think she took a U-turn and came back to see what was new.

And for those that are wondering: yes, I do achieve orgasm still. Yes, I do achieve orgasm faster and easier. My ‘G-spot’ is extra-sensitive now, and there is now no pain associated with penetration. The main difference that I’ve found in the six months post-hysterectomy, is that if you like those deep, cervical orgasms, you will unfortunately lose those if you have your cervix removed. I did, because cancer runs in my family. And it seems not a moment too soon, because fibroids, calcified cysts, all that fun stuff were part of the lab findings. Could it have been a non-issue? Certainly. Could it have turned nasty with everything that’s wrong with me? Absolutely. I’d already been warned I was at high risk for Endometriosis.

Also, so far: I’m not on hormone replacement therapy. My doctors are playing it by ear. We don’t want to send my body into another panic spiral while it’s still finding a new balance, so in another month or two, we do more tests, see where I’m at and discuss.

Now for the: ‘but all these articles say’ portion of our blog. I know. I read those. But as someone else pointed out: Almost all those articles were written by men. All the nay-sayers ARE MEN. Why do you think that is? What the FUCK do they even know about women’s health anyway? Are they female? Do they HAVE the REPRODUCTIVE MATERIAL NECESSARY to make judgements on whether or not hysterectomy is beneficial to women in my position or not? NO.

So, for ME, hysterectomy was VASTLY beneficial. I don’t have a single CLUE how I survived for all those years without it. I know I was miserable. I didn’t know HOW MUCH, but now that I do, there is no way in hell I would ever make a different decision than the one I did, and I am SO HAPPY that I finally got this done.

[what-if-nct]

Seriously txt going to any award show and that part where all idols are on one stage makes me question my eyes. I legit thought hyunjin and tzuyu were tall but then suddenly those tall ass bitches from txt pop up and omg I can spend hours talkimg about that

Seriously, though it's like they have a height limit and Taehyun just barely passed. Like you don't notice when it's just them, When I first got into txt I didn't realize just how tall they were. Then I saw them around other idols and it's like wait why are they so huge? When did this happen. And when Soobin and Yeonjun host music shows. Like they just had to put Changbin right beside Yeonjun. And Chan was looking up at him with such adoration like a little elf. They looked like Snow white and the seven dwarfs beside Yeonjun. Couldn't put Hyunjin beside Yeonjun to give them a fighting chance. They looked so tiny beside him. With Bts they don't look too tall cause most of Bts are the same height. I wanna see them with NCT, all of NCT I feel like they'll actually blend in. If their near the tall ones. Also Heuning Kai and Taehyun can still get a little taller cause Chanyeol was 6'0 when he debuted at the same age. And he's 6'1 now. Like just an inch. Sehun & Kai grew an inch too. Jisung can still get Taller too. Not by much maybe a few centimeters, they're pretty much at their full adult height now but there's a possibility.

[burnedbyshoto]

mine

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

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pairing: yandere!dabi x fem!reader

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

word count: 5,588

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

kinktober day 17 main kink: branding | kinktober masterlist

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Dabi didn’t care about you.

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

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

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

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

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

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

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

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

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

.

..

.

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

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

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

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

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

You added absolutely nothing to the group.

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

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

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

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

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

You were here to be made as a whore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Dabi would never admit you were his.

No, he would not.

Not now, not ever.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/l/n-chan sleeps around?”

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

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

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

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

He blinked.

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

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

You were his.

You belonged to Dabi.

You were nothing without Dabi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which worried you. 

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

The sun was still in the sky, after all.

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

You freeze. Oh? Was he jealous?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were his.

Finally his.

Only his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

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

You were his.

Only his. 

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

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

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

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

He has one last thing to do.

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

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

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

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cold, used, quirkless.

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

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

[n0wornever]

You Again - Luke Patterson x Reader

Can you do a Luke x reader fic where the reader who let’s say is supposed to be looking for Alex (he’s the one who planned this) and instead stumbles upon Luke (a shirtless Luke) working out and he try’s to be all smug and charming...”

Alex sat next to her at the lunch table, watching as his best friend glared at his bandmate who was scarfing down his meal in front of her. The drummer giggled to himself as Luke’s gaze rose to meet the girl’s. 

“What, Y/N,” Luke said with a mouthful of food. 

“You eat like a barbarian,” She said, putting her fork filled with spinach to her mouth.

Luke rolled his eyes, shoving the food back in his mouth before looking over to Alex with pleading eyes. 

“Alex, can you get your friend to not make a snide comment about me for like, one minute?” 

Alex shrugged, “I’m not in charge of her, but I do wish you two would get along long enough have a nice meal.” He elbowed Y/N as he finished that statement. 

Y/N had to agree, she and Luke did fight a lot, but she knew that he almost always started it. The two of them had never gotten along, simply because he was everything she hated in the male species. He was a conceited rockstar who constantly had multiple girls on his arm that he’d probably never call again. He was attractive, knew it and used it he used that to his advantage in a way that just boiled her blood. 

Luke just grunted in response to his friend as he finished his food. Y/N rolled her eyes as she leaned in to rest her head on Alex’s shoulder. 

The next day, Y/N arrived at the garage to meet Alex to go get ice cream. She was a little early, but the band wasn’t practicing today, so she figured that the two could just head out now.

“Hey Alex, I’m here..” Y/N yelled into the garage. 

She didn’t see the blonde anywhere. Her search was interrupted by something crashing in the right corner of the room. Her eyes moved to investigate, falling on a certain brunette, wiping his brow with a towel. 

Y/N’s eyes fell onto his body without a question. His chiseled chest glistening with sweat. She tried to train her eyes to move quickly to his face before he noticed, but the smirk on her face let her know it was too late.

“Like what you see, Y/N,” Luke said, winking in her direction.

She rolled her eyes before closing them and turning around.

“Patterson, could you put on some clothing please, Jesus,” She heard him giggle as she let her eyes open and rest on the ceiling. 

“The coast is clear, Y/N.” 

She looked back over at him, a black cut off covering his chest now. That didn’t help the fact that his perfectly toned arms were basking in the open air. She tried to shake her drifting thoughts and crossed her arms at her chest. 

“Where’s Alex?”

Luke took a huge drink from his water bottle, breathing heavily as he started to speak again.

“Told me he was hanging out with Willie today...” 

“That jerk ditched me...” Her mouth dropped in shock.

The boy let the left side of his mouth raise to a smirk, watching her pout. He lifted himself off of the mat and walked over toward her. 

“All you’re left with is me...” He said, raising his arms toward her. “We could always hang out.”

“I’ll pass,” She said, pursing her lips. 

Luke chuckled, moving closer toward her. The heat radiating from his body entered her personal bubble. 

“Well, feel free to wait here to yell at him, I’d love the company.” 

She didn’t say another word as she moved over to the couch on the other side of the room. She pulled out her phone to angrily text Alex. She heard Luke call her name and turned her head to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to finish up my workout, do you mind if I play music?” 

She shook her head and he nodded, pressing play on the stereo. Led Zeppelin blasted through the speakers as he made his way back to the bench. She finished typing her message and chose to to scroll through Instagram. She saw a picture of Alex and Willie sitting at the park. She couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s dorky grin and double tapped the photo. 

After a few moments, she grew bored and let her eyes move across the room. They eventually landed on him again. 

He lifted the weighted bar away from his chest, veins pulsating from his arms. She tried not to be mesmerized by the amount of ease he seemed to push through the reps in. As he lifted the bar back onto the shelf above him, his chest heaved in and out. He turned his head and met her eyes. His smile grew as he shot a wink her way before sitting up. 

She shook her head, trying to draw her attention back to her phone. She felt footsteps draw near her, but she didn’t move her gaze. The cushion beside her fell and she finally gave in and looked over to see the guitarist sitting next to her. 

Their eyes met and Luke searched her face for the usual angry response. She didn't say anything, just looked at him as he wiped sweat from his brow. Her gaze had held for too long, but she couldn’t open her mouth to say something smart. She finally diverted her eyes for a moment so that she could breath easily again. 

“Y/N, you okay? That’s the longest we’ve gone without insulting each other,” Luke laughed. 

She let a small smile fall on her face, taking a quick glimpse at him. His eyes were wide, lips slight parted as he studied her. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He moved over on the couch, scooting in closer to look at her phone over her shoulder. His breath was hitting her face, tickling her ear as he whispered into it.

“Whatcha doing?”

She tried to fight the shiver that ran through her with their closeness. She turned slowly to yell at him for snooping, finding their faces centimeters apart. She watched as his eyes darted from her lips to her eyes a few times before he leaned in even more. She felt her heart rate pick up. 

“Hey, Y/N sorry I forgot....oh?” 

Their intimate moment was cut short by a loud voice in the background. Luke pulled way quickly, trying to act natural by pulling his towel back up to wipe his face. Y/N looked over to Alex and smiled, trying to remain cool while her chest heaved in frustration.

“I’m going to go,” Alex said, his smirk growing. 

“Alex you don’t have to..” She started, but the blonde was already out the door.

She heard Luke laugh next to her again, and she turned to glare at him. He ignored her anger and leaned in toward her again. His hand came up to her neck, pulling her close to him. He smirked at her sharp exhale that came with his sudden contact.

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” He grinned.

She bit down on her lower lip for a moment, letting her eyes fall to his lips. Luke took this as an invitation, pulling her lips in to meet his. 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @xplrreylo​​ @lovesanimals​​, @anythingandeverythingfandom​​, @crybabyddl​​, @oswin05​​, @themaddies-obx​​, @lukeys-giggle​​, @bumbleberry-pie​​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​​  @marinettepotterandplagg​​, @lolychu​​, @bathtimejish​​, @dasexydevitt13​​ @musicconversedance​​, @txrii​​  @bestdressedandstressed​​ @daisiesforlacey​​  @epikskool​​  @bookfrog247​​ @carleywhittaker​​ @princessvader15​​ @rudysbay​​ @spooky-season-bitch​​  @kcd15​​ @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall @meangirlsx @itz-jas

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Joan Jett Quartet

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: NC-17 BDSM, extreme language, consensual bondage and paddling

A/N: Decided to do a short series of erotic drabbles based around Klaus x Reader during his first year with Destiny's Children. They'll be "Tied" together with "Do You Wanna Touch Me There?"

Tag List: @robertsheehanownsmyass​ @frogs--are--bitches​ @firstpersonnarrator​ @elliethesuperfruitlover​ @rob-private @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @messengeronthemoon @magic-multicolored-miracle

Book 2- Bad Reputation (Klaus x Fem!Reader)**

There was no doubt you had been on a complete power trip after your tryst with Klaus and the table. Smug satisfaction on your lips everytime the two of you passed one another in the mansion. You held your head high while all he did in return was roll his eyes and shake his head, cheeks flush.

The last straw for Klaus was one moment when you passed one another on the stairs. You held your fingers up in a V-shape in front of your mouth, snaking your tongue in and out obscenely. He grabbed you by the wrist and yanked your body flush with his. Your heart raced with desire as those exasperated eyes glared at you.

“You've been telling others our secrets,” his voice low.

“Of course. They're my friends, and they are interested in why The Prophet keeps choosing me to meet behind closed doors. I didn't know it was a secret, ” you grasped his neck with your free hand and tightened so that your nails dug into his skin, “these proclivities.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as Klaus visibly shook under your grip. An erection twitched against your hip and grew the tighter you clutched. Then suddenly lifted your chin upward. His thumb pressed hard into the bone so you could only look him in the eye.

“If I wanted any of them to know what gets me off, I could've asked any number to play with me. I'm pretty fucking sure they'd be better at it, too. Uppity bitch with your uninspired tit fucking. too good for the strap-on unlike Jill and Kitty.”

Your heart fell and pounded in your ears the entire way down. But you remembered yourself and him. How the game could start any time he felt up to it. An unspoken contract the moment you agreed to restrain him and dominate him. This was just payback because you made Klaus human to the other Children.

“It's my turn to play”

Your face was hot with want. There was a wetness between your legs at the thought of it. His lips moved centimeters from yours so you could breathe what he exhaled. Your hips ground into him.

“Bring a blindfold,” Klaus instructed. “I'll bring the paddle”

------

You stood in the living area of Klaus’s wing. You shifted from barefoot to barefoot in a large sweater and your underwear. Your hair twisting and untwisting around a finger without thought. The sleep mask you brought as a blindfold laid out on the arm of the sofa. You shocked yourself that the sight of a paddle, makeshift in haste from a kid’s toy, turned you on.

“Can't say sorry for being late,” The sound of Klaus’s voice made you jump out of your skin. A sly grin spread across his face, “Nervous, doll?”

He stood in front of you now, that long beard gone and his hair wrapped up in a bun. “Couldn't get the fucking thing off. (It was fake) At least that's one secret you've kept.” His hand ran down your arm and waist around to your ass which he rubbed all too briefly.

Now Klaus leaned in to kiss your forehead and cheeks before lifting your chin so that his lips could meet yours. “You totally get that you're one of two people I trust in this room?”

You looked around assuming he meant himself. “Yes.”

“And you get that I've been mostly myself with you.” You nodded an understanding. “Good girl. You definitely fucked that up by gossiping about me, so I have GOT to punish your insolence. Can't have you squawking to the other chickens in the henhouse that the fox enjoys being pecked.”

Klaus laughed at his own metaphor. Not maniacal, in an honest giggle the way he did when he found himself truly humorous. You loved that about him. He could command attention with his “sermons,” but in your bedroom the nights he came to you? He thrived on making you smile.

His face became serious again, “This isn't some master slave bullshit either. I was raised by servants, and trust me it fucking bothers me. Mom, a bit mechanical as she was, managed fine on her own.”

Klaus was lost in thought but shook his head. He made his way behind you and spoke in your ear, “I just like playing with you. You choke me and fuck me while I lose consciousness. I spank you and make you swallow my cum until you learn to keep secrets. And if you're good, I'll fuck you too.”

The breath caught in your throat at how casual he was. How he brought sexual freedom to you and the others. Nothing was too perverse as long as everyone agreed, and you consented to this eagerly.

“Good. Now the safe words,” he fitted the sleep mask down over your eyes, “are Spice Girls.”

“What?” you snickered.

There was a swift open handed slap on your ass that stung beautifully, “Correct response is?”

“Yes, Prophet.”

“I want you to take your sweater off, but as you do stand with your feet slightly apart. Then bend forward.”

The chill in the air caused your skin to goose pimple as soon as your sweater left your body. You complied, unable to tell which direction Klaus was coming from. Your heart raced with excitement.

As you leaned forward, his hand caught you by the throat. The other warm and flat on your back. He ran it over your spine and to your ass which he rubbed before he gave another slap. This time even harder to your delight. When you didn't flinch, he repeated himself. Harder still. Once more before he dipped his hand between your legs and rubbed your sex through your panties.

“I figured you may enjoy the same things I do. Look how wet you already are, and I haven't even used the paddle. And this ass, honestly there's so much to work with. More men should appreciate a thick one.”

The friction of Klaus’s hand picked up as he kept working you through the fabric. Then he withdrew it and that pleasured sting came one more time. Harder. You choked on a moan.

Over the backs of your thighs now and over the hips his hand went. “These hips too. Perfect for when I want to ride you like we're dogs or tease that little asshole.”

That part wasn't really a turn on to you. When Klaus played with you there, unable to switch off how he might please a male lover from a female.

Your thoughts fell away as that roaming hand took hold of your panties and removed them. The hitch in your throat as you felt him tug you forward with the hand on your neck. Klaus massaged your naked sex with the palm of his hand. The heel found your clit and pressed into it before you knew he had pulled back and raised his hand. He brought it down with such force on your bare ass that you lurched forward. It was wet.

“Now you're quiet?” Klaus inquired. “I wonder how long the chicken can go before the fox makes her cluck?”

There was a rush to your head as he righted you. He unhooked your bra and removed that too. Klaus pinched your nipple. Then the other. He traced the erect skin with a fingertip. Your back arched because his body leaned into you. The loose tendrils from his bun splayed across your chest as he bit the top of both of your tits. Still no sound.

“You're tits are, like, the perfect fucking size for how large my hands are,” each word emphasized by a hard squeeze as he roughly kneaded them.

Without warning, Klaus dropped them and dipped his fingers inside you. He pumped them deftly in and out, circling your clit and worked it until you started to pulsate. He drove you just mad enough.

“I can't believe how fucking wet you are. Do I make you cum?” Klaus’s fingers moved quickly and your legs started to shake. “Do I punish you some more?” Fingers out of you, hand on your throat to swing you forward again so he could spank you somehow even harder. Once. Twice.

“Or do I sit and watch you fuck yourself until its time to suck me off?”

Still bent in half, Klaus pushed his fingers deep inside and pumped them again. Assaulted your clit. “No, I'm too hands on.”

Then a white heat filled your core and spread. Your sex constricted around Klaus’s fingers as you came. A loud squeal turned moan echoed off the walls. He held you steady by the neck as he rubbed out a second orgasm and made a tsk tsk sound.

“Guess I've got my answer. More insolence when I wasn't ready for you, and you broke your silence!”

You couldn't even comprehend Klaus’s next move. He stood you up and then bent your arms so your hands were on the back of your head. The position when you're under arrest. You could feel his bare chest against your back, erection just beneath his linen pants in your ass.

Klaus held your hands to your head and stepped away from you. Three swift hits to your ass, “I knew you wouldn't keep quiet long.” Each word again emphasized the rhythm of his punishment.

You took a chance, “Please forgive me, Prophet.” Your body shook with endorphins.

“Debatable. Can’t exactly talk with a mouthful of my cock now can you,” Klaus was still holding your hands above your head. Free hand that spanked you reached around to pinch your nipple another time.

This was the first time you realized he had yet to kiss you. That was so personal. This was.. you weren't sure. But once more thoughts escaped you as he pushed you blindly forward. His hand in your head dug into yours and your hair.

Once your knees came into contact with the soft velvet of a chair, Klaus stopped. He let go of your hands and gestured for you to drop them. He left you momentarily before returning to your side. His hands brought leather around your neck to the front and pulled a bit to tighten it but not the way he can handle. Cold metal against your spine.

“It's a collar and restraints. I get to control just how much of my cock you take in and you won't be able to stop me or help yourself. Next time you'll choke on the gossip like you will me.”

Klaus’s voice was low in your ear. His lips were inches from your skin. Goatee and mustache brushed against your neck as he locked your hands into the cuffs attached to the chain. He knew how that drove you fucking mad and blazed a trail with his chin and lips across your collarbone and shoulder without actually kissing you. Your arms straight down, hands near your ass.

You gasped out loud this time; an insufferable moan left your mouth. The collar tightened when the sound escaped your lips. Klaus laughed. His gin soaked breath filled your nostrils briefly before you were yanked to your knees. His hands twisted up in the back of your head once more and he held it tight while he freed himself from the pants.

Klaus sat down in the chair with his legs spread enough to maneuver you between them. You knew he used his spare hand to hold his stiff cock in place as he tugged your head forward towards it. The tip lost in your cleavage.

“I have to give you credit. Letting me tit fuck you was such a thrill. It's so tight in here, reminds me of your cunt. Then you can swallow my dick until I cum,” there was a shrug to his tone now.

Still he began to thrust his erection back and for in your tits. Klaus’s hips lifted off the chair to connect with your chest. He anchored himself with you and kept going. You could feel the head of his cock hit your neck, slick with his own fluid. He started to growl under his breath the faster he bucked and squirmed. Your sex reacting without thought with a notable swell.

“The tits are so fuckable,” he writhed. Looks like The Prophet had a new favorite type of foreplay.

Suddenly Klaus switched on you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded as your head was wrenched forward.

You complied, and Klaus shoved his cock so deep in your mouth it hit the back of your throat. You gagged momentarily and he cried out in ecstasy. You let your throat do it again.

“Keep doing that,” he pushed you onto him even further if that was possible.

Then Klaus pushed you up and back. His hands forced your mouth to do what it could on its own. You bobbed up and down on the shaft, wrapping your tongue around it on the process. His grip slackened so he could caress you instead.

“Like that. Now lick it and just the head.”

Again you kept repeating the instructions. Your jaw hurt and muscles began to ache, but you knew The Prophet’s cues by now. One more deep-throated constriction and..

Klaus exploded in your mouth. The salty liquid hit you and you swallowed only some. The rest you held knowing what would happen if you spit it out. So the moment he let you sit back, you assumed so he could adjust himself for another round, you turned your head and spit.

“Did you just fucking spit when I told you I was going to make you swallow my cum?” his question bordered on furious. A finger hooked through a loop in the collar and he heaved you up off the floor so you stood. Your body marveled at his strength. Your sex reacted accordingly.

“Just when I thought she knew how to behave, the little chicken showed her true self. Get on the chair and bend over my lap. Ass up, face down on the arm.”

Cautious to hide your eagerness, you did your best with your hands chained. Still you managed and bent over Klaus. The velvet soft under your knees and face resting into it. Your sex pressed against his cock as it stiffened a second time.

There was a brief moment of self confidence that you managed to hide the blindness made you nervous. You had a general idea most of this evening where Klaus was positioned or coming from, but it was that uncertainty that slicked you with wetness. The anticipation of his next move. The ultimate trust in someone who literally fell out of the sky.

Now that move was Klaus leaning over then a sensation of smooth wood on your bare ass. The other hand tangled itself up in the chain along your back. Tightened just a bit so the collar did the same. Another gasp for air and Klaus’s erection poked into you, strained against your pubic hair.

“You broke the rules by spitting,” the paddle came down on your ass several times. “You broke the rules by laughing at me earlier,” words punctuated by the delicious sting at every other word. “And you broke,” this time he took the edge of the paddle and swiped it between your legs. Delved between your folds to hit your clit just right. It wasn't rough, but it was enough so you understood.

“MY TRUST!” now Klaus bellowed. A hard paddle to your ass and the back of your thighs. Had no longer choked the chain. Instead he pinched your nipples alternately as he punished you.

Klaus brought the paddle down harder still several more times. The force of it pushed you down onto his cock. He thrust a bit up at the motion so your hips came together and apart. It was doing something to you besides making your legs go weak. You ached and throbbed in your cunt, longed to be penetrated. It wouldn't come for now.

“I'll give you a chance to apologize,” now Klaus let go of your tits and pulled you by the chain so your back curved. Your face off the arm of the chair. “Turn in my direction when I'm talking!” Paddle collided with your tender skin.

You moved best you could towards Klaus’s chest, “I'm sorry Prophet.”

“For?” Paddle gone, he gripped a handful of your ass and dug in.

Sharp intake of surprise breath. You rolled into his cock. “Gossiping, Prophet.”

“I can't hear you,” open-handed slap. “Red is definitely your color.”

“FOR GOSSIPING, PROPHET!” you cried out loudly.

“Fine,” indifference in his voice, but his cock said otherwise. “My arm is tired. I want you to fuck my thigh.”

You stumbled and nearly fell as you got off the chair. Your legs waived with chemicals from the paddle and prior orgasm. Now you managed towards Klaus’s lap, straddled his leg and sat astride. You situated your cunt on his thigh and started to ride him in earnest.

You found it difficult to balance as you undulated yourself back and forth. Balance off slightly until Klaus held you steady. Helped you rock powerfully into him. The friction and heat from his body drove you insane as you rode with abandon. You were already swollen as you ground as hard and fast as you could. Klaus’s hands, spread out over your back. His fingers ensnared by the chain.

“That cunt of yours is so fucking wet, like you're sliding on ice. Careful your clit doesn't burst just yet,” he teased.

Then without warning an incredible hard crack to the ass and it was too late. You shuddered violently and screamed out as you rolled yourself through the orgasm. Breasts heaved as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I'd be disappointed,” Klaus’s mouth close to your neck and collarbone once more. Facial hair just touched the surface of your skin as he held you down. “But wait until I tell the other Children how she loves being disciplined.”

Then you were on your feet so Klaus could probe you. He played with your clit to elicit another orgasm. That sting of a hand to your skin forced another explosion.

You collapsed into his chest but instead of catching you, he simply started to undo the cuffs and chain. He turned it around expertly and wrapped your hands up around front. Handcuffs locked, forearms together which he tied together and hooked into the collar. Your arms tight to your chest.

“Now get up. You're gonna get fucked.”

Then Klaus did something that both shocked you and turned you on. Where the strength came from you still don't know, but everything about him was otherworldly. The rush of him lifting you off the floor to throw you over his shoulder was powerful. The quick sting of exquisite torture that you just weren't sick of yet followed by that infectious laugh signaled his demeanor changed entirely.

“I can't believe you've fucking kept up,” he tossed you on the bed.

He rolled you face down, cuffs undone and arms forward so he could lock them to a headboard. “There's no one else who could. They can barely manage orgies. Ought to give my sex swing a go next time” Klaus mumbled and climbed up behind you, your hips and ass lifted skyward.

The head of his cock teased the crack of your ass, which he spanked as a reminder. Klaus tested your trust by slipping just a bit inside that space where no one was ever allowed. You cried out but not in pleasure as he tried.

You never thought it would happen, but you just weren't ready. “Um.. Spice Girls?” It was a question muffled by a pillow.

Klaus stopped, “Excuse me?”

“SPICE GIRLS!”

“I thought as much. Can’t ever know till you try to fuck someone’s ass.”

Then wordlessly Klaus plowed into your ever-slick cunt. His hips hit your ass and filled you to the hilt. Over and over he pounded you with a furious speed. Periodically slapping you with such extreme force that the pillow encompassed your face.

“This hot, tight cunt fits my cock so well. Fucking snug and able to take all of me.”

Klaus grabbed your hair and bent your neck back as he kept at it. Welcomed pain deep inside from his cock practically inside your stomach, or so it felt. Suddenly he pulled out and came on your back and ass, warm and sticky all over your raw and bruising skin.

Later: the two of you with arms and legs tangled up together. You snuggled into Klaus’s chest, a sweetness as your mouths meshed. His hands soft as they ran over you after having applied a cooling lotion to your welts and funny enough, bent to kiss them tenderly.

“Next time, Prophet-”

“Klaus.”

“Right,” you smiled. “Next time it's my turn, and I THINK you're gonna get pegged.”

Klaus leapt out of the bed with almost childlike glee. “I'll show you how to wear it.”

[iuwon]

- GET TO KNOW ME TAG ! ˎˊ˗

tagged by: @spookybias @berrytaerry thank you ! :)

this is really long. like REALLY. i get sorta personal around here other than cursing a lot lksdjgsjkekgse. 

WHAT DAY IS YOUR BIRTHDAY? march 13th ! exact same day with beomgyu

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? i don’t have one💀

WHAT’S YOUR LUCKY NUMBER? 3 .. or 4. i have no fucking idea🤩

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? no, my mom hates pets.

HOW TALL ARE YOU? almost 5’8 (SO CLOSE).

HOW MANY PAIRS OF SHOES DO YOU HAVE? …more than 12 pairs, I think?

FAVORITE SONG? (atm) ‘supalonely’ by benee, and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

FAVORITE MOVIE? anything but horror

WHAT WOULD YOUR IDEAL PARTNER BE LIKE? funny, smart (but not a smartass), loyal (because i’m a possessive and jealous hoe), patient, has a soft side but is actually an annoying pain in the ass/a brat. someone who can keep me mentally stimulated and not get bored of. in tune with emotions, observant. yes i know my exact type

DO YOU WANT CHILDREN? YES I LOVE BABIES.

HAVE YOU GOTTEN IN TROUBLE WITH THE LAW? NO MY MOM WOULD WHOOP MY ASS.

BATH OR SHOWER? BATH. i like long baths. i stay in the bathroom for hours lmao.

WHAT COLOR SOCKS ARE YOU WEARING? It’s literally almost 40 degrees out here, why tf would I be wearing SOCKS.

FAVORITE TYPE OF MUSIC? slow and sentimental ones. the unique and romantic kind with depth that stretches out to the lyrics. the memorable catchy ones that stay imprinted in your mind.

HOW MANY PILLOWS DO YOU SLEEP WITH? seven and counting.

WHAT POSITION DO YOU SLEEP IN? hugging my pillow :,)

WHAT YOU DON’T LIKE WHEN YOU’RE SLEEPING? when anyone, and i mean ANYONE, wakes me up. idc who tf you are, you can be jeon jungkook and i’d fucking ram your head and yeet you to the next century.

WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR BREAKFAST? hot chocolate and some stuff my mom prepared.

HAVE YOU EVER TRIED ARCHERY? yeah. i think i’m not that bad.

FAVORITE FRUIT? give me any fruit. i’d eat it. I LOVE FRUITS. except durian. no durian.

FAVORITE SWEAR WORD? i love filipino swear words. they’re so insulting and creative. like yes PUTANG INA MO! PAKYU BUISIT KA, GAGO!

DO YOU HAVE ANY SCARS? yes, but I don’t think they’re that clear from afar.

ARE YOU A GOOD LIAR? i thought i was. then i realized i wasn’t.

WHAT’S YOUR PERSONALITY TYPE? ENTP-T ! i took that damn personality test 598345783475384 times for the past two years and that’s the most consistent result, and I relate to it most, too.

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF GIRL? me.

INNIE OR OUTTIE? wat.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED? left handed.

FAVORITE FOOD? i grew up with mixed cultures so i honestly don’t know. i love food.

FAVORITE FOREIGN FOOD? i like Italian food. THEY TASTE SO GOOD.

ARE YOU CLEAN OR MESSY? depends on my mood.

MOST USED PHRASE? “OMG”, “like”, “literally”, “dude”

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE YOU TO GET READY? lately, about 45-50 minutes.

DO YOU TALK TO YOURSELF? anyone who doesn’t is dead to me. they’re fucking lying.

DO YOU SING YOUR YOURSELF? bitch, I have my own concerts.

ARE YOU A GOOD SINGER? yeah, i guess? i’m not like the whole mariah carey package but i can sing. i’ve been on voice classes for a really long time and music has been a part of me ever since i existed.

BIGGEST FEAR? i’m afraid of everything.

ARE YOU A GOSSIP? yes and no. yes, actually. i’m really good at keeping secrets. but i like to hear gossips. idk whenever there’s drama i’m just used to people COMING to me.

DO YOU LIKE SHORT HAIR OR LONG HAIR? long hair because i like the way it looks, but short hair because it’s a lot more convenient to handle.

FAVORITE SCHOOL SUBJECT? economics, contemporary issues, management, yk the business type of shit

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT? extrovert. but I’m like the introverted-extrovert. i don’t make the first move. i get intimidated easily because i think too much.

WHAT MAKES YOU NERVOUS? results, everything, everything, and did i mention everything?

WHO WAS YOUR FIRST REAL CRUSH? lol

HOW FAST CAN YOU RUN? a centimeter per hour.

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR HAIR? It used to be black but now it’s turning REAAAALLY brown.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR NAME? no. it’s kinda weird, also because people call me by the whole name since it can’t be shortened (it sounds weird if it is). i don’t even like my tumblr name and I HAD THE OPTION OF CHOOSING MY NAME.

WHAT MAKES YOU ANGRY? everything.

DO YOU WANT A BOY OR GIRL AS A CHILD? either. but maybe a boy though because girls are a bigger hassle and responsibility to bring them up.

WHAT ARE YOUR STRENGTHS? can’t think of any😩

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAKNESSES? math. & insecurity? kind of the weak person, in general? like the inferior person. idk me as a whole. i am the example of the whole lottery of weaknesses.

WHAT’S THE COLOR OF YOUR BEDSPREAD? light grey !! it’s pretty and aesthetic – it also gets me comfortable, thanks mom.

WHAT’S THE COLOR OF YOUR ROOM? really light purple. my parents haven’t changed the color of the walls ever since I was, like, 5, so … regret.

no pressure tags! @koosocks @igyus @luvvseong @envirae​ @jayuwu​ @lqsience​ @lovelycharm05​ @heephoriia​ @intokook​ + anyone else who wants to ! :)

[megthemewlingquim]

  ❛   i want you. and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.   ❜   Bucky gets jealous of someone (Sam maybe) but he doesn't think he deserves the reader bc of his past? Followed by some very sweet smut?

Sugar, Sweetheart, Angel

Summary: Bucky can't help himself when it comes to you — especially when Sam's away with a girl.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: sweet... but not too explicit smut, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, corny poetry about jealousy, Bucky being shy but very, very loving

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy Kinktober. This is my DAY ONE entry. I promise, I will get into more explicit smut as the month goes on.

“Nah, go on, man. Have your fun.”

Mistake Number One.

He feels the regret immediately after the words slip out of his mouth, and it only worsens when he sees Sam go off with a girl — a dame — beside him. She’s beautiful, with chocolate skin and velvet eyes and long, braided hair.

But, in his lonesome state, he turns and sees you.

Dancing to the unrecognizable tune that’s pulsing through everyone at the club, lit up by neon purple, green and blue lights and a smile that literally glows in the dark.

Mistake Number Two. 

Because his eyes don’t leave your figure and his mouth doesn’t open and — of course — his pants have gotten much, much tighter. 

Hope rises within him, but it quickly fades.

You’ve been on Bucky’s mind for ages.

You started out as Sam’s friend, his partner in superhero work. No, you couldn’t fly or move things with your mind or control lightning and thunder, but you could hack into computers and software, and you could actually use a knife well. You met both Sam and Bucky after the war for the world, after he and Sam were dusted and you lost your boyfriend for five years. And of course, with no contact for that long, even if it’s not intentional, a relationship can crack and dissolve.

So you were a hardened, tough wreck, but one that was starting to pick up pieces and put yourself back together. You were starting to learn to love again, and to fight for what you loved and who you loved... which, when you started working with Sam, was only your family.

Bucky was completely awestruck when he saw you for the first time. He was reminded of all of the pretty dames from the 40′s, the ones with shorter hair and cherry red lipstick. You brought him back to his sergeant years....

And when you make eye contact with him for one, split second moment, even before his sergeant years.

And there he is.

The boy who grew up with very overprotective parents. The boy who was scared of growing up, the boy who was so shy around the fifth grade girls. And the sixth grade girls. And so on.

Bucky is transported back to those years, and all he can do is look at you.

You’re free, it seems. You’re liberated, you’re unhinged, as you dance and sway to the tune... which now seems to be a slower, more psychedelic song. (Sam taught him that word. Enter Pink Floyd.) Your arms lift and you look up, absolutely content and so in love with the music and the lights and...

Well, not with him. That’s for sure.

He sighs, going over to sit at a vacant table. It smells of beer, the aftermath of an arm wrestle from whoever sat there last. Lifting a hand up to scratch his stubble, he finally tears his eyes away from you; he does not want to seem creepy.

Mistake Number Three.

Because he does not see you come up to him, sit down on an empty chair beside him.

“See something you like, James?”

He shudders at the use of the name. Not that it’s a bad shudder — it’s just... it sounds lovely coming from your lips.

You must take it as a bad sign, because you look down at your shoes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Sorry, Buck.”

His voice lifts a little. “No, sweetheart, it’s okay.” The term of endearment goes unnoticed by you. He’s used it with you so often, and even the first time you were numb to it. It fell on deaf ears, as it does now. “It’s okay. You can call me that... if you want to.”

He pauses. “I... I did see something I liked, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” Now it’s your voice that lifts. “And what was that?”

Either you’re really, really ignorant, or you’re doing it to be a tease and to piss him off. Bucky can’t tell.

“You.”

He says it bluntly. No hiding, no blushing, no nothing. Because he knows that you won’t think anything of it.

Not that you don’t like him back. You absolutely do. It’s just that you’ve been so hardened, so toughened, so numb to the fact that anyone might love you back, and Bucky knows it.

“Hm,” you mumble, “thank you.” It’s as sincere as you can make it sound, which isn’t very.

There’s an uncomfortable pause, one in which you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I want you,” he says, “and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.”

Every word from Bucky falls from his lips like weights. They drop, then they sit where they land. One lands on your shoe, the others land on the floor. He’s keeping eye contact with you, his gaze intense and... regretful? Introspective? Sincere? Sad?

You blink. And then you laugh.

Not at him, he quickly realizes.

“That’s some Billie Eilish type shit,” you giggle, “but that’s okay. I like her music... but hearing you say it is somehow much more corny.” You break off into more snickers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You do mean the apology.

He’s a little hurt, but he expected it. He accepts the apology wordlessly.

“I’m serious,” he says, and then you shut the hell up. “Completely serious.” He lifts his hand up and points his index finger at you. “You’re the one I want. Not Sam’s dame, not a girl I kissed in a hallway after knowing her for a month seventy years ago and never saw again.”

It’s a little insult to Steve, you remember. But then you remember what Steve actually did, and how he did it, and exactly who he left behind.

So this means something.

“I like you. I want you. And I love you, whether you know it or not.” He stops, leans in close so his lips are less than a centimeter from your ear, whispers the next part: “Whether you’ll accept it or not.”

His breath is hot on your neck, and he takes a warm hand in yours. It’s his flesh hand. Your heart is racing, and you note that Bucky can probably hear it. 

“Buck -” you stammer, “I — I don’t —”

“You don’t have to say yes, sugar,” he says nonchalantly, but with that sincere tone still lingering. “But you have to realize that some people actually do like you. Want you. Love you.”

He pulls back, his face so close to yours it’s almost claustrophobic for you. The tension in the room is overwhelming, and the air is stuffy and hot and you don’t know how to react to any of this.

“I do,” he continues, “even if that son of a bitch didn’t. You’d think that after five years of not seeing you, he’d come rushing back with flowers and chocolates and a weddin’ ring. You’d think that distance would make a relationship stronger, if it’s the right one.”

“He was dead,” you croak.

“So you thought. And what did he do? He left...Tell ya what, sweetheart,” he says, his tone lightening once again. “Why don’t you let me show you how I feel instead of telling you?”

His hand travels up your thigh and stays there.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” he whispers, “and you don’t know how long it’s taken me to actually say it. Because now you’re listening. Now you’re learning. Now, hopefully, you’ll begin to accept it.” He looks down, down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he looks nervous. He stammers out the beginnings of words, never meeting your eyes. "Er — I don't — I don't deserve you. I really don't. You're an absolute angel compared to me. I've — I've killed people, I've done things that you'd recoil at.... I just hope that you come to realize that I love you. I adore you. And if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts.

You shove them all aside and kiss him.

It’s gentle, and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s Bucky. He lightly takes a hold of your cheek and pulls you further in. The hand that was once on your thigh is now in your hair, at the very back of your head. His lips are soft, which is strange, because you know he used to bite and pick at them, especially when he was nervous... which was often.

You feel like you’re going to topple off of your chair, but if that happens, you won’t mind, because you have Bucky there to catch you.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says after pulling back, nudging his head at the exit. “My place.”

All you can do is nod your head.

He cooks you dinner, the gentleman. It’s unexpected... you thought you’d just be a fling for tonight.

It’s chicken caprese - seasoned chicken breast with basil, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. A classic Italian dish, and a classic date night dish.

If you want to call this a date.

After you’re both done, he does the dishes. You both agree to brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash.

He’s on you directly afterward, latching his lips onto yours in a frenzy. You ground yourself by gripping onto the bathroom counter with white knuckles. He towers over you now, leaning over you and surrounding you with his seemingly much larger form. You’re a small thing.

“Bed — ” he gasps. “Bed, now, please.”

He picks you up, hands on your ass, and you have no choice to wrap your legs around him and hold on. Somehow, you make your way into a bedroom.

He lays you down as if you could break if handled less carefully, and lays down beside you for a minute, doing nothing but taking in the sight of you all breathless and blushing.

He's never seen you blush before. It's a very pretty sight.

"You know," he says, "I haven't done this in forever: properly made love to a woman. But I want to do it right. I want to make you feel loved, sweetheart."

Loved. Not "good". Loved.

"Bucky, there's really no need." There you go again, denying it. It infuriates him and saddens him, but he only sighs.

"How bout this. How bout you... for an hour or so.. just forget about that sonofabitch that left you. Forget about the denial he gave you. And, just for an hour or two, maybe just try to accept the absolute fact that I want to treat you better than he did. Just because he left doesn't mean that I will."

You don't say anything.

"Do you trust me?" he asks rhetorically. "See, you really shouldn't, but you do. I often think, 'How the hell could anyone trust me?' but I accept that fact because you just do.

"That's how I feel with you. You don't think that people should be able to love you, but they do. I do. And I want to show you that.”

“You did make me dinner,” you say with a light smile, your stone exterior cracking a little.

He nods. “That’s one of the million things I’d do for you.” There’s a split second pause that does not prepare you for what he says next. 

“I’d marry you,” he says. Only then does he kiss you, when you’re too stunned to move. You kiss him back, your grip on him heavy this time. He notices, and he smiles.

Clothes are quickly discarded and hot, fast breaths are all you hear for a while. Bucky latches his lips onto your own lips, your neck, your jaw, wherever they can reach, and his hands do the same. 

But when you’re both naked, taking in the sight of each other, your breathing slows, and you both stop, let time pass before anything continues. He breathes out a question, one of consent, and you say yes.

Soft whispers and touches are what your senses take in. Bucky takes note of your every gasp, every whimper and every moan that you make, and remembers what to do to make you do it again.

For example, you like your left breast fondled more than your right. Your neck is a sensitive spot, especially right below your right earlobe. You really like it when he kisses your palms and your inner wrists. You do not like the idea of cunnilingus, unfortunately for Bucky, though you’ve never actually done it.

“Next time maybe we could try it,” he says.  Next time.

You notice, in a random moment, that he does everything with his flesh hand.

His fingers find your intimate parts, and explore there slowly, spreading your wetness all around and rubbing at your clit in slow circles. You don’t moan until the very end, where you’re almost ready to come. His eyes never leave yours, even when yours leave his in a rush of sudden bliss and a shuddered breath.

“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want to see you. I want to see you come.”

You gasp at that, throwing your head forward and looking at him with a look that can only be described as desperation.

“Come for me,” is all he says, a low whisper laced with lust. You clench around his fingers as you come, whining and gasping, and he touches your forehead with his as you’re lost in that wonderful feeling of ecstasy. He mumbles something under his breath, and your brain registers it a millisecond later:

“’Atta girl.”

At that, another rush of pleasure jolts through you and you shudder and twitch, your body becoming oversensitive. 

He doesn’t let you go down on him. Today, he says, is all about you, and you deserve all the loving he can give you today.

Which means he buries himself inside of you quite quickly, holding onto you with an iron grip. You’re on top of him, looking down at his sweaty, awestruck smile.

This is Bucky’s way of making love with you today: very deep, passionate strokes set to a faster rhythm than you thought he would go, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re moaning almost as soon as you feel the first thrust, and your hair hangs a little in his face as you let your head fall closer to his. He wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him. So, his thrusts are more shallow but you can get all close with him.

You moan and sob, the wonderful feeling of warmth in your gut never leaving once but only growing. Bucky himself grunts as he thrusts, emitting a breathy chuckle once in a while when he notices how hard you’re gripping onto him.

There are no words here, only sounds and gestures. Enough words have been said.

Once you’re both satisfied and his seed starts to dry on your breasts, all you do is look at each other.

Two souls, two people, two broken hearts that have begun to mend.

[ewritesthangs]

Red Rum Lips*

A/N:: Smut ahead! Enjoy!

Red. His favorite color on you. This, this is the one I want. You picked out the perfect set of lingerie. Red lacy convertible bra, lacy panties to match. Easy access. Easy peasy. You decided to try it on, again, at home. Taking a few cutsie pictures for your fiance Matt Casey. You applied red lipstick to your plump lips, red heels onto your feet and sent them to him with the caption 'red rum' . "Thats for leaving me wanting more this morning Casey." You say aloud to yourself.

Matt's POV

It was a dull day today at the firehall. So my fiance and I had been texting back and forth.

Baby 😍❤: Sent an Attachment

I open the message to see her all in red. My favorite color on her. Shit she looks so fucking sexy. Fuck. Payback is a bitch. I knew she would get me back some way. One photo is enough, but three? One very explicit. Oh baby youre in trouble. I decide to leave her on read, for I was almost done with my shift.

2nd person POV

You were at home waiting on the bed, reading a food network magazine. Your favorite. Still in your lingerie. You hear the door open and close, signaling your fiance was home.

"You better have that outfit still on young lady." His voice boomed through the house. He means business.

Shit. You thought. 

"Y-yes daddy!" You knew you had to be in the position. On your knees in front of the bed facing the door. Head down looking at the floor. Hand on your thighs. You hear him walk in, but do not look up. You knew you were in trouble. He worse his gear. You always went wild for him in just his bunker boots and pants.

"You, young lady, have been very naughty today. Sending me explicit pictures while I'm at work. And daddy can't do anything to help himself."

"I-im sorry daddy."

"Look at me." You look up to see your fiance, in his bunker pants and boots. Just them. You whimper. "Good girl. Daddy is not a happy man."

"You didn't like them?" Your voice was small, innocent sounding.

"Daddy loves them. He's just mad he had to get a boner at the station and had no way of relieving himself."

"I'm sorry daddy. Do you want me to help you now?"

"Ah ah ah. Not so fast. I think you should watch as I get myself off."

You bottom lip trembles, he knows you hate doing that cause you want yo be the one giving him pleasure. You watch him intently as he goes to sit in his chair. His reading chair. His chair of pleasure. Of pain. He slips his bunker pants off so now he is completely nude. Cock in his hand. It was hard and glistening. Head red from want, need. He spits in his hand before pumping it a few times. You lick your lips as you watch, your eyes never leaving his cock. Your mouth salvating. Wanting. Needing him. You grew wetter and wetter as the seconds pass, with each and every stroke. He moans out, causing you to squirm. He knows exactly what he's doing.

"Daddy please I need your cock in my mouth. Inside me. Please!" You beg and plead.

"Daddy is not done." You whimper and retreat back into your submissive position. Slow, steady strokes of his cocktail, antagonizing you. Luring you in. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes daddy. I won't send you explicit photos unless you're home."

"Good girl. You may proceed over. Suck daddys cock good." You squeal in delight and rush over to him. You sink back to your knees between his legs. Your right hand at the base of his cock while your mouth takes him in all the way. He hits the back of your throat. You gag a little. He smirks and keeps a hand on the back of your head. You Bob your head up and down fast. You needed to taste his cum. He grunts and moans. Hips bucking up into your mouth for more. You suckle a little on the head, to get him closer to the edge.

"Fuck baby girl keep doing that and ill be cumming." You just hum and continue on. Pumping the shaft as you suckle the head. He twitches and cums with a load moan of your name. Profanities follow. You suckle a little more to get every last drop. You pull back with a slight pop, pleased with yourself. "Good girl. Now you may get what you want."

"Can you fuck me hard daddy while watching in the mirror?"

"Like last time baby girl? I think we can make that happen. Come sit on daddys lap." You like your lips before sitting on his lap, back against his chest. He rubs your clothed clit causing you to moan.

"Daaaaaaaddddddyyyyyyy."

"Thats right baby only I can make you moan." He positions himself at your entrance, a few minutes after he became hard again. Feeling your wetness and hearing your voice got him going in no time. He slips into you. Slowly. Antagonizingly slow. You whine, wanting to feel every little centimeter of him.

"Needy little thing aren't ya?"

"Only for you daddy."

"Good girl." Gis hand wraps around your neck, not too hard. Just enough. You bite your lip and watch as his cock disappears inside of you.

"Yes daddy. Oh yes. Fuck. Harder." Harder he goes. Balls slapping against you as he does. You can't help but tip your head back, eyes rolling back. The pleasure was intense. His free hand dances its way to your clit. Rubbing you fast.

"Come on baby girl cum for daddy."

"Im-im so close daddy."

"Thats it baby." His grip on your neck gets a little tighter, the lack of oxygen causing a great orgasm. Your organization rips through you and you're squirting all over Matt. A loud yell of his name rolling from your vocal cords. His grip loosens as he too, cums again shortly there after. You were too out of it to realize he came. You laid back against your fiance, panting heavily.

"That. Was. Incredible." You manage to get out.

"You did so well. Squirted all over me."

"Thank you baby." You breathe out. Still out of breath.

"Pleasure we both of ours." He chuckles at his words.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Come on let's cuddle. It was a long and boring day."

You slip off of Matt. Causing a hiss to elicit from you both.

"Good hard fucking."

"Better believe it baby." He smirks and slaps your ass. You yelp and turn around with a frown.

"Mine."

"Yeah yeah you did put a ring on it."

"That I did." Matt says all proud of himself. He snuggles up to you, once the two of you were in bed. He yawns, having been knocked on his ass from the good fucking he delivered.

"Let's rest baby."

He was already snoring softly.

"Okay well I guess there is no other choice."

[bubblyani]

Your Laugh

(Philip Altman x Reader)

A Philip Altman One Shot

Fandom: This is Where I Leave You

Rating: Mature

Summary: You have reunited with Philip Altman, your old friend from middle school after what seemed like ages. And he had always remembered you through an unorthodox manner which unexpectedly stole your heart.

Author’s Note: Missed writing for Adam’s characters so much. Philip, his character was hilarious in this movie. But I also loved him too. Wanted to write something for him. Enjoy!

The smell of alcohol, it always lingered in your memory since you were a child. Would anyone whose family owned a bar not relate to that?

Wherever you were, the smell always reminded you of your hometown. It was home for you. But when you finally were back in the very place where it all started, you felt a sense of completion. Coming back home always felt comforting. But this time, it was for good and oddly you were grateful. After much needed soul searching, you knew that this was where you were meant to be.

The bar, your family’s bar, it may be filled with people, but your laughter was loud enough to cut through all noises put together. At least, that was what you thought. You knew it sounded distinct. Thus, you always wondered if it secretly annoyed all those around you. Could it be possible that everyone never mentioned anything about it solely for the purpose of being polite? Funny how a shot of vodka would just send you off to a path of deep pondering.

But tonight was not the time for that, for it was a night of celebration.

“And here’s to SUCCESS!” You cried out jovially, as your refilled shot glass clinked with your friend’s. “Here here!” However, even though your friend cried in response, even though she gulped her drink down, it was evident that she clearly was not paying attention.When her wandering eyes were focused on something else, or someone else completely.

“Is…that guy checking you out?” You asked in an excited tone. Chuckling could not be helped, especially when you friend did not even care you noticed, for she was too occupied making eyes with the handsome gentleman from across the room. With her eyes still on him, she nodded.
“Since, the moment we came in here…” she said, then turning to you with desperation, “Should I-” “-do something about it?” You finished her sentence. Settling her nerves, you smiled, “Please bitch, you must!” You said, getting her to laugh along with you in excitement. With one last glance, she succeeded in getting young gentleman to walk over to her. As they began to make sweet conversation, you turned to the bartender. You were truly glad for your friend. After a bad breakup, she certainly needed to blow off some steam.

“Y/N?”

A deep voice, filled with such character and familiarity. It called out to you. Looking over your shoulder to the left, you glanced at the man before you. Your jaw dropped, for it was certainly someone you did not expect to see.

“Philip?” You began, “Philip Altman?”

The man smiled playfully. And so did you. A happiness you had forgotten returned to you all the sudden.

The last time you saw Philip Altman was at your Middle School Graduation. He may have not been your bestie, but he certainly left quite an impression on you back in the day. A troublemaker he was, but he was different with you. With many mutual interests, you knew he was someone you’d be friends with for life. But sadly, when you had to move out with your family to another city, you reluctantly had to let go of that dream. Finally, after years and years, there he was, standing before you. It was unfathomable that this was actually him. 6 foot 4 in majestic height, he certainly has changed a lot.

“Holy Shit!” You said, as he hugged you. His hugs always made you feel special. You missed them immensely. Apart from being special, you now even felt protected. “Oh my goodness…look at you!” You cried out, “You look gorgeous…”you paused, covering your mouth with embarrassment, “…sorry!” You squeaked nervously, “That was genuine!” You admitted. Philip’s eyes grew big.

“Me??” He said, “Look at yourself” he exclaimed, pointing at you, “You look like a freakin’...Damn!” He may have looked dashing dressed in all black. But the way his eyes washed all over you, blushes attacked you from all corners, and there was no escape. Puberty certainly did both of you some good.

“It’s been so long…” you said breathlessly, both leaning against the bar, “How did you even recognize it was me?” You asked, as Philip signaled a round of drinks.

“Your laugh…” He said. Your eyebrows rose with surprise.Guess your loud laughter was audible for all. But his tone, there was nothing condescending nor offensive. Not at all. “I could never forget it” he said, “You could say it was memorable” he added. In fact, his tone was nothing short of dreamy. You could not help but notice how he could not keep his eyes off you.

“Wow…” you remarked, “That’s the sweetest thing to say…” you continued, “and it came from Philip Altman? What a day! ”. It was true, you never realized someone like him would think so fondly of something as random as your laugh. Glasses were clinked, and the vodka touched your tongues in haste. The alcohol tasted different now that Philip was there.

“So…what are you doing back here?” He asked. Smacking your lips, you looked at him. “Thought I move back for good” you answered, “Plus it’s my off night tonight” you said, motioning to the bar. Since it was the family business, you would lend a hand in bar-tending. “And yet, you still come here” “Guess it’s my calling. I’m kidding..” You chuckled, “I’m actually here with my…” you turned to your right, “…friend” you paused, “Oh there she is…” you began, “…sticking her tongue down a… man’s… throat.”you said unexpectedly casual, watching your friend going wild with her new found conquest, “Anyways…” you turned back to Philip with a smile, “…we’re celebrating” “Celebrating that you’re not virgins anymore?” Philip snickered. You smacked him playfully. Boy, he had nice arms. “Savage…” you chuckled, “No…this is different” you added in a tone that was quite matter-of-fact. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah…we opened our own business here” you said proudly, straightening your back. You hoped you looked presentable in your tight short silver dress. “I really hope it’s not a sporting goods store” Philip said, secretly looking you up and down once again. You shook your head frantically. “Oh god no….” You replied, “…nothing beats Your dad's store” “Well I’m running it now with Paul” He said, with a smile. Genuinely surprised, you covered your mouth. “Oh my-no way! ” you exclaimed with delight “…that’s just awesome” you cried. Philip smiled brighter by your response, “So you’ve moved back here too?” You asked. “Yeah…” “That’s really, really awesome…” You surprised your own self when those words exited your lips so dreamily. As if you were waiting to hear those words for a long, long time. Accidentally, finding yourself staring into his eyes lot longer than you should, his eyes told you he was too.

“You seriously look great, by the way” he said softly. You would be lying if that did not make you smile. “Well…Right back at ya, champ” you said.

That was it. You were very, very attracted to Philip Altman. And the way his eyes twinkled, you were confident he felt the same way.

A song. An old nostalgic song, started to play in the background. A song that roused you with excitement.

“Oooh…I haven’t heard this baby in ages…” you squealed, “Come on, Altman…Dance with me!” You said to him, moving over to the wooden dance floor in the midst of the gathering crowd. “I will but…What If your dancing hasn’t changed since middle school?” Teasing, Philip asked. You rhythmically waved your hand in refusal. 
“Just trust me, will ya?” You said in a sultry tone, beckoning him with your index finger as you began to dance.

You may have been in a dress, but you certainly knew how to groove in it. The music flowed through your body like water. Eyes closed tight, you swayed your hips provocatively, as if no one was watching. Except one particular person. And it made you joyous when that one person grabbed you by the hand, pulling you over to him. With your back firmly pressed against his heaving chest, the two bodies moved together in sync. You felt chills running down your spine, just to have Philip’s body against your own this way. The way you kept grinding against him, the way your buttocks subtly brushed against his clothed manhood, you grew quite hot. Grabbing you by the shoulders, Philip turned you to face him.

“Whoa…Where did you learn to dance like that?” He asked. You smiled mischievously. “I’ve been busy” you purred. “Well…Kudos to being busy then…” Eyes not leaving yours, Philip said with quite an appetite. His facial hair appeared so soft, you longed to run your fingers over them. Faces just mere centimeters away from one another, the two pairs of lips were clearly aching to make contact. And the way his face grew closer to yours with each second, you were certain there was no need ache for it any longer.

“I TOLD YOU… IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” A loud voice bellowed, catching the attention of almost everyone in the bar, including the two of you.

“Ah shit…” Philip muttered. “What the-?”you began. Looking around, you spotted where the voice was coming from. “Oh no!” You exclaimed.

Paul Altman, Philip’s elder brother seemed to be in the midst of a brawl with Judd, his other brother. Glasses were shattered as one was flung over the table. Grabbing each other, they certainly made a scene as they began to wrestle each other like two children. And their sister, Wendy was desperately in need of help. 
“Philip!” She cried, looking over at the both of you. You could tell Philip seemed helpless. And you knew what needed to be done. You gave him an obvious glance.

“Go…go! it’s okay…I’ll take care of the bill” you said, pushing him lightly so that he could quickly head over there. Breaking up the fight did not seem to be easy as expected. With Wendy’s commanding voice and Philip’s strong grip, the Altmans fled outside to settle this row.

“Whoa! What the hell just happened?” You jumped when your friend called out from behind. Though her lips had finally left the young man alone, you were certainly not in the mood to tease her about that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Walking home later that night, your heart felt heavy. It was so close. You both were so close to make something happen. So close to a possibility. The chemistry felt so real. Seeing Philip again after ages made you long for something you hadn’t longed for before. But then suddenly it was slipped right off your fingers. Maybe this was all in your head, you thought. Maybe you should not hope for too much.  Shrugging to yourself, you finally made it home.

“HEY!”

You turned back, to gasp loudly. Philip stood a few feet before you, panting, trying to catch his breath. Did he just run all the way to your place?

“Hey…” you said, standing by the door as he walked over to you, “Was everything okay ?” You asked with concern. Philip nodded. “Oh yeah yeah…you know…family drama” he said, with his hands on his hips, “…and here I thought I would be the troublemaker” he added, flashing his beautiful smile. “I think you still are...” You replied teasingly. “Guilty…” he said, making you smile. That smile you wore, it was filled with relief. Relieved that he actually ran for you. Relieved that he even bothered to meet you again. Lost in his eyes, you kept smiling, overjoyed to reunite with him again after ages only to have your heart race wildly.

And before you knew it, you welcomed his eager lips with your very own, in a hearty kiss.

With arms wrapped around each other, you felt him pull you closer to him. Holding you so tightly, you were floating on air. All the while the kisses were birthed and took their own unique shape in the form of  each other.

Pulling away, Philip’s nose brushed against yours. “So…”he breathed, “Anyone home?” You shook your head frantically, “Nuh uh…the folks went on a cruise” Looking up at the sky, Philip looked ecstatic. “Thank fuckin god” he cried out, which made you break in to laughter. This much of joy and genuine excitement was what you missed from your life in your hometown. And now you got it back. But your laughter died down sooner than expected, when you realized he was staring at you with amusement. “What?” You asked. Philip smiled warmly. 
“There it is…”he began “Your laugh” he said in an affectionate tone.

Kissing him shamelessly once again, it was definitely clear this was where you definitely were meant to be, and needed to be.

——————————————————

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

Without a Doubt [B.H. x you]

Summary: Billy’s enamored with his desk neighbor. The only thing is, she’s not aware of his existence...or anything, really.

Inspiration: Ballerina Out of Control by The Ocean Blue & Lorelei by Cocteau Twins

Word Count: 1399 Warnings: profanity.

Written Date: 11/7-18/2019 Posted Date: 11/18/2019

Parts: [1] [2] [3] [4] [MASTERLIST]

Billy noticed her brutalized notebook first as it loudly plopped onto the desk beside his. Its front cover hanging on to its last two spirals while angry indecipherable scribbles nearly puncture through the material. The edges were beyond frayed from maltreatment.

He rolled his eyes then and thought to himself, ‘Great…I sat next to the weirdo of Hawkins High.’

But then a subtle scent swirled into his nostrils, smelling of roses and…those essential oils Susan had stored away under their bathroom sink. Girly. Girl. ‘Girl.’

Instead of some overweight, pimpled-faced, greasy-haired brute who spends the majority of his time masturbating to Miss November and probably hasn’t figured out how to make eye contact with the opposite sex without his palms cooking up a sweat, Billy’s ocean blue eyes found her. A rather pretty girl with tangled locks whose wardrobe lacked diverse shades of color.  

Needless to say, she hadn’t noticed him. She hadn’t seem to notice anything. Not the teacher as she introduced herself, not Billy as he was forced to introduce himself as the new kid to the entire class, and certainly not the material her grades would rely on. The steady world outside the classroom was just as dull and lacklustre as the classroom, yet it had cast a spell on her.

And, the whole time Billy hardly noticed anything other than the quiet girl who limply waved her hand just a few centimeter above her shoulder when her name was called during attendance. He hadn’t noticed Tommy H., who would soon become the unshakable monkey on his shoulder, nor Cassie Beckham, the flirt he would have a late night encounter with just a couple days later at the quarry.

In just those first forty-five minutes of class, Billy managed to make out two words in the mess that was Y/n’s notebook, and he wasn’t even sure if he had gotten it right when spelling it out on a different sheet of paper: cocteau twins. ‘What the fuck is Cocteau Twins?’

Never coming across such a strange term, not even in the diversity of California, he didn’t know where he could find the meaning. Regardless, he was determined and became rather obsessive in the hunt for the answer.

He had snuck into his father’s study just to browse through his encyclopedias, but all he found was some French writer he doubted had anything to do with the girl in his class. He had wasted two hours at the local record shop flipping through the ‘Cs’ and ‘Ts’ before putting on his best flirtatious smile and asking the employee if she’d ever heard of them, thinking it could possibly be a band. The employee hadn’t, but she’d been happy to check the inventory list for him before coming up empty.

That didn’t deter him from hopping around other music stores, even when the outcomes continued to be the same. After Tommy had become somewhat of a friend to him, he had joked that madness was doing the same thing every day and expecting a different result. And still, Tommy had not a clue that this search was for the girl in black in their English class for dumbasses. No, Billy’s hunt came to a close when he’d ran out of record stores within the 15-mile radius.

With no hint as to whether this Cocteau Twins even existed, Billy held on. Quite literally.

Just a month into the school year and fall had consumed the town, leaving layers of cracked and chlorophyll-broken leaves for the street-sweepers to clean up almost daily. But while she was staring out the same window at those dead, sinking leaves, Billy decided to forge those same words he’d been searching for onto the center of his palm in blue ink. Tommy had taken to sitting behind him, so he had to stop glancing at her so often.

For always picking on poor souls who crossed his path, Tommy was careful around Y/n, acting like her seat wasn’t preoccupied by one of the sorest thumbs in the entire school. This left Billy even more mystified about her. There was history between the two, just like there was history between Tommy and the soon-to-be dethroned king himself, Steve Harrington.

How deep the ties were in this school, he’d soon find out during a shirts vs. skins basketball scrimmage against the one-and-only Steve Harrington.

With one quick shove of the shoulder, Harrington’s lanky form toppled to the floor. That was all it took for Billy to make the winning basket before offering a hand to his fallen opponent. Leaving the pen markings in his palm vulnerable to scrutinizing eyes, it took only one prolonged glance for Harrington to ponder upon all the answers Billy had been itching to know.

Steve had dated the girl who had introduced him to the virtually underground band whose name was etched into Billy’s skin before leaving her for a new fancy—Nancy, the unpopular girl who grew into her looks quite well. They had dated for a year, and Steve had thought he had loved her all the more when she and Tommy had surprisingly developed a bond that resembled siblings.

And yet, Steve had ultimately ruined everything he had built with Y/n for the exciting chase that was Nancy. It was his fault that Y/n had fallen off the cliff of popularity and had swindled down a hole so foreign to him. He’d stolen what little shine her eyes had held, the soft peaches of her closet, and left her a hollow shell of the girl she was before.

At first, Steve hadn’t a reason to worry about her after the breakup. He didn’t cheat on her and he hadn’t lied to her when he told her he had fallen out of love. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that the friends she had met through him were superficial enough to turn on her once they weren’t an item. There was no reason for guilt to settle in the pit of his stomach when Carol had nastily snickered about hearing his ex’s sniffles behind one of the bathroom stalls because his hands were clean.

But, Steve was different now. He was still very much in love with Nancy but finding this Morse code on his enemy, the need to protect his vulnerable ex-girlfriend as some form of self-redemption shocked his core. And he wondered just what in the hell did Billy have planned for Y/n?

Billy had caught the lingering stare of his enemy, and later that day, Billy had taken Tommy H. to the only bar that didn’t card because a drunk Tommy was a very open Tommy. He spent twenty-three dollars he barely had just to get Tommy spilling his nostalgic guts onto the wooden counter.

“Harrington broke up with her over boring Nancy, and she’s not even hot ya know? No, but see, my Carol is hot. Nancy? Nah, man. Just another judgy bitch that thinks she’s better than us. And now, Y/n—she dresses like a freak. I think she’s fuckin’ depressed, hanging around that ash* chick Samantha sure messed with her head.” Tommy finished his drink and flagged the bartender for another one.

In between the slurring of his words, Billy got the gist of the drama his friend was mulling over and suddenly Hawkins didn’t seem like such an empty puddle. And, yet, Billy acted the oblivious fool when it came to her.

He never speaks to her, never speaks about her. He is a mere observer without a clue as to what Cocteau Twins is because he refuses to make the first move. So, he fucks around with girls whose names he doesn’t give a shit about, fights with other guys for dominance—anything to stir a commotion in this depressing town, hoping one day she’d be enchanted with him instead of their English class window.

A/N: *Ash was one of the many terms in the 80s used to label someone from the goth subculture before the term “goth/gothic” really took off.

[fics-not-tragedies]

April song prompts: #19 A Little Death

Today’s prompt was requested by a lovely anon.

SONG: A Little Death - The Neighborhood ft. Riccardo Scamarcio; Words: 1075 (oops 🤡); Warnings: smut;

Readers tag list:

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With his hand still around your throat, he slammed the door shut and pushed you against it.

“Sei fottutamente splendida, amore…” he mumbled against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“English, Riccardo… use English” you rasped your hands coming up to his hair, tugging and pulling on it, twirling his locks around your fingers.

“I said that you’re fucking beautiful, my love” breathing against your lips he gently nibbled on your lower lip. Then you kissed him, letting your lips stay against his a bit longer and then retreated again but not without biting his bottom lip quickly, enjoying the little grunt you received from his lips.

Your mind spun, you had gotten so wet it was starting to trail down your legs, “Fuck, don’t hold back on me” you breathed as his free hand roamed across the front of your dress.

He turned your head back to him, his eyes boring into you. His thumb rubbed up your chin to your lips, where you took him between your teeth. His mouth parted slightly and he watched you take his finger into your mouth and twirled your tongue around it. You felt his finger leave your mouth suddenly just to be replaced with his hot hungry lips. His tongue shot into your mouth without permission but your body happily replied. Then he moved his lips onto your neck, nibbling and biting, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

“Sei così bella” he rasped, his lips moving back to your neck, “Non vedo l'ora di essere dentro di te…” his hold on your hand released and rested again on your hip, your skin was now burning from his touch. You squealed in delight when his teeth dug into your neck, surely leaving a bruise. It was exhilarating to feel a man claiming you again.

You sighed as both of his hands met on your hips and traced burning circles just under your panty line. He had you reeling and squirming against him. He knew how to take his time.

Riccardo’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he slowly inched down your body, his intense stare pushing you to a place of bliss that you'd never seen. He would stop here and there and nibble on your skin to watch you twitch and writhe against him until he reached your panty line. With a smirk, he looked up at you, “Hope you don’t need these, amore” he bit his lip as he ripped your panties off of you, making you gasp. You were breathless and too turned on to argue that it was one of your favorite pair. His lips on your thigh averted your attention quickly.

You couldn’t help but watch him as his lips toured your inner thigh with expertise. His eyes locked with yours as he closed his lips on your throbbing core. You cursed and your head fell back once his tongue slid quickly up your slit. Just enough to cause a small spasm from you and intensify your pleasure. He didn’t even have to fuck you because his tongue was sending you high and bliss with barely a touch.

“Proprio uno squisito sapore…” he mumbled against your cunt, receiving a loud moan from you as a response.

So when his tongue darted past your folds, you nearly screamed. Your body bucked against him as he started a mad riot on your clit. His hands dug into your hips to keep you still, a determined and almost wild look on his face. Your orgasm built quickly and you lashed against him. His hands were probably leaving bruises on you, but you didn’t care. His tongue just continued to assault you until you were nothing but a mess.

“Fuck!” You rode his face until your body calmed and he met your lips again, your juices mending with his taste.

Then you’re pulled further inside, until he’s sitting on the sofa and you’re writhing in his lap. You’re practically buzzing with excitement, mouth watering and mind hazy at the sounds of metal clanging, zipper being undone, material rustling- and then he’s lifting you up. One arm wrapped firmly around you with his hand reaching under your right thigh, lifting you up over his cock, and then he whispered in your ear, “If you want to keep your underwear, I suggest that you move them out of my way, /amore.”

Trembling fingers pushed your underwear to the side of your pussy, and your free hand is quick to fly up to your mouth when he pushed inside you. He lowered you onto his cock slowly, forcing you to feel the walls of your cunt stretch with every inch as he entered you. Your legs were spread wide, almost touching to where his are, ass settling and rubbing against his shirt.

You breathed heavily, whining when he’s all the way inside. Your hands came up and splay over the span of your abdomen, feeling as if he was penetrating you deep in your stomach. His cock pulsed inside you as he suddenly bucked his hips up, and the feeling is blinding, his arm returning to wrap around your waist, lifting you up and letting you fall down along his cock, “Come on amore, ride me.”

And you really can’t move, with his arm around you pulling you to his chest and being so fucking deep inside you. A hand appeared on your neck, fingers squeezing the sides as he repeated himself, sliding his hand down from your neck to your chest.

So you roll your hips, swallowing down a sob when the head of his cock nudged that spot deep inside you. Every lift barely took you a few centimeters above his pelvis but you still grew close, extremely quickly, shaking as you grind down and clenched around his cock. Tears leak from your eyes as Riccardo groaned quietly, “That’s it… cazzo. Gonna come soon?” You nodded adamantly, hips moving faster, as fast as you could, imitating your earlier movements.

The crest of your orgasm reached you, your head falling back on his shoulder as you bite down on your tongue, feeling it began to roll over you. Riccardo’s hands suddenly appeared on your hips, his grip strong and tight as he held you still, preventing you from riding yourself through your high.

“You’re so fucking hot, amore” he rasped into your ear, “Let me take you on the bed now, properly, as you should be taken, principessa.”