Hello! I remembered this trend on TikTok where gfs would pick their bfs up and sit them on the counter. I was wondering how Mark and his variants would react to their normal civilian gf doing that to them (or attempting toā). It doesnāt have to be anything long! It can just be short descriptions (if you end up taking this request). š
āSit. Stay. Counter.ā
Note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. This is the cutest, thirstiest, most deranged and adorable request you couldāve given me after the symphony of smut I've published.
Warnings: Possible, but minor war crime... Oh, and some sexual tension. (Everybody's a freak-bob cause I couldn't resist.) Special request at the end.
Synopsis: In which you, a mere civilian with either questionable upper body strength or pure audacity, attempt to lift various overpowered Viltrumite men and sit them on the kitchen counter like theyāre your pretty little trophy husbands.
Mainstream Mark/Variants x Fem!Reader (could be GN, āsheā is only mentioned in monologue moments.)
WC: 2,585
ĖĖĖ ā” ĖĖĖ Mainstream Mark
You try to play it cool and act like youāre just walking into the kitchen to kiss him, but your hands suddenly slide to his hips. Markās mid-sentence when he freezes, eyes narrowing with mild confusion and a flush creeping up his neck.
He chokes on air. Like, actually makes a startled noise because he doesnāt expect itāyou lifting him?! āWaitāwoahāare you trying to lift me right now?? Babe??ā He ends up doing a little hop to help you, laughing nervously, and then sitting there grinning while you kiss his nose like you just won a prize. And you do it! You actually manage to get him up there with a grunt and a full-body lift. Thatās enough to make him freeze in awe, stammer a protest, and then immediately try to take over.
He's bashful but secretly really into it. His legs swinging like a kicked puppy who just found out heās got a hot girlfriend with strong arms and intentions. He keeps glancing down at you, smiling like heās trying not to make it a Thingā¢ā¦ but heās definitely thinking about it during sex later.
Internal Monologue: Sheāsā¦ trying to lift me? Sheās actuallyāwait, sheās serious. Okay. Okay, donāt make a sound. Donāt ruin it. Act casual. Act like this isnāt the hottest thing thatās ever happened to you. Is it weird if I help? No, donāt help, she might stop. Holy shitāsheās strong. Iām marrying her. Weāre already married. Is it weird if I say thank you? Iām gonna say thank you. Oh my god, Iām hardāhow am I already hard?! FOCUS.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
Mark immediately tries to help you. Like, sweet-boy trying to do a little hop into your arms. When it doesnāt work, he laughs, wraps his arms around you, and says, āYou trying to carry me or climb me?ā And then he picks YOU up, kisses you stupid, and places you on the counter instead like the princess you are. Youāre upset, but this is less embarrassing than the way your knees knocked when you tried.
You two doom-scroll until youāre caught up on the latest trends, his camera roll is FILLED with videos.
ļ½”š¦¹Ā°ā§ No Goggles Mark
You donāt even get a chance to lift him. The moment your hands settle at his hips and you square your stance, his head tilts slowly, lips curled into a "what the fuck are you doing?" grin. He stands there like a little shit, just barely helping, making himself heavy on purpose so you struggle. When you get him halfway and grunt in frustration, heās already giggling. āOh no, my weak little arms, Iām too precious to be carriedāā
BUT he lets you do it ABSOLUTELY. And sits up there all relaxed, legs dangling, eyes wide like youāve just unlocked a new level of hotness he wasnāt prepared for. Heās biting his lip, watching you like you just grew a second head.Ā āDudeā¦ that was so hot, I think my dick twitched. No, wait, it definitely twitched.
āYou finally get him up there and he melts. Full on spreads his thighs, hands braced behind him, eyes half-lidded like heās beckoning you to challenge him. He leans in all cocky, asks if youāre manhandling can be a daily occurrence, he strives to irritate and entice.
Internal Monologue: Oh my god. Oh my god, sheās doing it. Sheās gonna lift me. This is it. This is the moment I fall in love again. God, I love this woman. Look at her faceāso determined. So serious. Sheās feral. Sheās hot. I should say something gross. No, worse. Feral. Say something feral. Should I ask her to grip me while sheās at it? No, waitāwhat if I fake being heavier so she gets mad? Yeah. Yeah, this is peak romance.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
He laughs, obnoxiously loud, and then says, āOkay, wait, no noādo it again. I swear Iāll behave. Kind of.ā When you give up through bated breaths, he leans down, āYou know what happens now, right?ā Then he just drops to his knees, palms on your hips, mouth already moving toward your inner thigh. Failure means nothing. He's thriving.
åø( ā¢Ģ_ā¢Ģ )åø Mohawk Mark
You donāt ask or warn, more or less appearing like an apparition to try. The second you do, he plants his feet and makes it difficult on purpose. āThe hell are you doing?ā he mutters, brow arched, not moving an inch. Heās gonna make you work for it. Full smirk, arms crossed, with an amused gleam in his eyes. He wants to see if youāre serious. āYou think you can move me? Cāmon, then. Show me.āĀ If you get him even halfway up? Heās shockedābut laughs.
The second you groan, he grins and not in a mocking way, but like heās daring you to earn it. Eventually, you throw your full weight into it and manage to boost him up, and he lets out a sharp exhale like he wasnāt ready to be dominated like that. But now? His eyes are locked.
āYou trying to flip the script on me, babe?ā he mutters, grinning. āThatās cute.ā He doesnāt move. Just pulls you between his legs, forearms on your shoulders, already hard from the show of strength. He loves when you challenge him. His chin nuzzles within the splayed hairs of your mohawk, utterly plotting.
Internal Monologue: Aināt no way sheās trying this. Thereās no way. She knows I weigh like 180, right? All muscle? What is sheāwait, is she gritting her teeth? Oh shit, sheās serious. Okay, hold onādo I let her? Nah, make her work for it. Just a little. Play it cool. Act smug. Maybe flex a little. She likes the fight. And when she gets me up there? Game on. Sheās gonna regret thisāin the best possible way.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
He stares down at you with an amused smirk and doesnāt budge. āOh, babe. You're adorable.ā Then he scoops you up like youāre nothing, walks you over to the counter, and spanks your ass as he sets you down. A genuine cackle crawls from his throat as he watches you squirm. Somehow in that amount of time you produced a bucket of sweat.
This is now free rein for you two to begin mischievous plots together.
ą“¦ąµą“¦ą“æ/į ļ½”āøļ½”į\ Omni MarkĀ
He blinksā¦ slowly, then squints. He knows what youāre doing the second you square your stance. And he lets you try with a silent but palpable curiosity, his expression unreadable. āAre you lifting me?ā
Your hands slide to his hips. You push and grunt once before he finally eases up just enough for you to get him seated. He lets you do it, but thereās a heavy pauseālike heās trying to figure out why itās affecting him so much. Heās used to being the strongest, but this? This little moment of tenderness?
He ends up gripping your waist. Staring at you for a few long seconds with that haunted, love-struck look. Then says, very softly: āAgain. Do it again.ā He almost uses this as a form of training, his quiet ego making him believe you shouldnāt be able to lift him even an inch, but youāve made him grow softā¦ so much so, that heās willing to give into you.
Internal Monologue: Is this a power play? She's reaching for my hipsāintentionally. No hesitation. Thatās bold. I like bold. Is she trying to prove something to me? Or to herself? It doesnāt matter. She's close now. She's warm. Her heartbeatās fastāexcited. Not afraid. Thatāsā¦ rare. God, she doesnāt know what this is doing to me. I havenāt felt this way in decades. Donāt moan. Donāt grab her. Donāt break the counter.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
He watches you try and fail with an unreadable expression. Then he slowly smiles. āYou tried,ā he murmurs, brushing hair from your face. Just what did you expect? He's almost pure muscle and you quiet after a few seconds. āLet me show you what that earns you.ā And then he lifts you onto the counter as if you weigh nothing but touches you like youāre everything.
ą„ą¤¾ą„ą„ Sinister Mark
Thereās two possibilities: He sits himself up there the second you try, smirking the whole time and watching you like prey. Orā¦ your lucky latter where you catch him off guard.
You make your move when heās lounging, of course. And of course, he lets you. Because Sinister Mark? He wants to be put on the counter. Not because heās submissive, but because it means he gets to lean back, legs spread, hands behind him, smirking down at you like you just set a trap for yourself. āGo on, then,ā his expression says. āYou touched me first. Letās see how far you take it.ā
āMake it worth it,ā He says with a cocky drawl. Heās already hard before he sits. And the moment your fingers wrap around his waist, the moment your breath hitches, heās watching you unravel with strain and loving every second.
And once heās up there? He stares at you like you just became his favorite obsession all over again. He taps his thigh like itās an invitation. Come kneel, sweetheart. You started this.
Internal Monologue: Ohhh. Look who wants to play alpha. Thatās adorable. She really thinks she can lift me? She doesnāt even know what this is gonna awaken in me. Look at her go. Little grunts. All that effort. Shit, itās hot. Alright, Iāll help her just enough. Give her the win. Let her think sheās got the power for a minute. And then? Iāll spread my legs and watch her come undone trying to handle it.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
Heās smirking the whole time. He wonāt help AT ALL. Just watches you strain with a low, lazy look like āYouāre adorable when you try.ā Your teeth grind together and just as youāre about to blow the lid, your hands droop to your sides.
And when you give up? He instantly grabs your neck, walks you back three steps, and lifts you to the counter with one smooth motion. āSee? Thatās how you take control.ā Then he spreads your legs. Your plan just backfired beautifully.
ā Viltrum Mark
Youāre subtle about it... or so you think.
But before your fingers even graze his hips, Viltrum Markās gaze locks on you. He doesnāt move, not even the quirk of his facial expression. Just tilts his head like heās already dissected your plan six moves ahead. It's usually unnerving, but somehow endearing during displays of affection. He lets you try, but every motion is being filed away with every tug.
You lift, push, and egregiously strain. And finally, he helps, just barely, so you can get him onto the counter. He sits there, legs open, gaze cool, and an imperceptive smirk. Like heās letting you play at control while deciding how long heāll indulge you.
But thereās something in the way his knees tighten around your hipsā¦ the way his fingers graze your wrist just a little too slow. Heās not mocking you, heās considering youā¦ and that's somehow scarier. You walked in thinking this was a game. Now youāre between his thighs while he decides whether to devour you or play the long game.
Internal Monologue: ...Sheās making contact. Hands on my hips. Interesting. Is this an attempt at dominance? Or flirtation? Or both? She knows sheās mine, right? She knows touching me like that wont work, right? And sheās still doing it. God, I want to ruin her. Sheās lifting me. Sheās lifting me? I should snap her in half. I should worship her. I should bend her over the counter instead. NoāIāll let her have this. Itās killing me.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
He watches you strain and your muscles flex as your arms tremble with visible veins. And when you fail, he just steps closerāsilentāgripping your jaw like a warning, leaning in until his lips barely brush yours. āTry again,ā heād whisper if he ever needed to speak.Ā But he doesnāt, heāll wait and let you squirm. Then push you back against the nearest surface and remind you who the apex predator is.
Heāll indulge in these silly trends just to see your reactions.
į( ā¢Ģ į ā¢Ģ )į Shiesty / Hooded Mark
Lets you with a raised brow, hands relaxed at his sides, like heās judging your form but not stopping you. He wants to see how worthy you are, after all, youāre dating him. The second your hands touch his hips, he knows. He doesnāt help you either, just stares, obviously amused. His eyes showing faintly beneath that veil, teeth flashing beneath the smirk heās not bothering to hide.
Once you do it, he leans forward, forearms on his knees, staring right into your eyes. āYou always this bold?ā He rasps, āMmh. You wanna show off, huh?ā heād say if he were feeling generous. But instead, he just stares until you squirm under the weight of his limp body.
You get him up thereāeventually, with him purposefully being deadweight. And now heās fully manspread, head tilted, fingers tugging on the hem of your shirt with teasing violence. āYou wanna be in charge?ā his body language says. āThen do it. Impress me.ā
Internal Monologue: Is this foreplay? It feels like foreplay. It feels like sheās trying to do something reckless and pretend itās casual. Mm. Sheās touching me like she thinks Iāll just let her. Should I let her? Nah. Not yet. Gotta make her work for it. Look at her muscles flex. Look at her face. God, sheās hot like this. If she gets me up there? Iām flipping this whole kitchen upside down. She wants dangerous? Iāll show her dangerous.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
Youāre frowning before you know it, staring up at him as if this is his fault for instigating. He absolutely lets you fail. Then he chuckles before grabbing the back of your neck and dragging you flush against him, whispering against your jaw like a threat and a promise. āWhat a shame. You started this, too.āĀ He loves that you think you have control. Heās about to take it back too.
He totally endorses testing out strength related trends, this starts a series of public embarrassment of him carrying you.
(ā„āøā„) Masked MarkĀ
He lets you and he actually melts. He tries not to show it, but the moment your arms wrap around him and you lift, even just a littleā His cheeks flush. You donāt even make it to his hips before he starts getting nervous. Not scared, just flustered, like his brain short-circuited the moment he realized what you were trying to do.
He says nothing but sits there, blushing, fists clenched on the counter beside his thighs. Like if he says one word, heāll start whimpering. Heās obsessed with being handled like that, or even, the idea that you want him, even like this? It wrecks him in the softest way possible. His fingers grip the edge of the counter as he stares down at you with a pleased and light chuckle. He watches you like youāve become something dangerous and perfect.
Internal Monologue: Sheāsā¦ sheās touching me? Oh my god. Sheās trying to lift me. Thatāsāitās cute. Itās hot. I donāt know what to do. Should I help? Should I just melt? I donāt want to mess it up. Her hands are so warm. Sheās so confident. Sheās going to break me. This is embarrassing... I think Iām in love again. I want her to ruin me. I want her to carry me into the sun. Oh godāIām gonna lose my mind if she grips me again.
If You Canāt Pick Him Up:
He sees you try and panicsāāWait, no no, donāt hurt yourselfāā He laughs. He looks down, ashamed. But when you kiss him? Tell him itās okay? He drops to his knees, hands shaky, mouth open, ready to serve. āI canāt be lifted,ā his body says, ābut I can worship you just fine.ā
A/N: let's be real... everyone's a freakzoid with how much Mark and Eve get it on in the show.
MasterList ą½¼ą¼āāŗāļøāāŗā.Ė
SCRIPT FLIP - What if the reader doesn't struggle at all?
ĖĖĖ ā” ĖĖĖ Mainstream MarkĀ
You wait until heās brushing his teeth, humming some tune, and mumbling to you. You're mid-convo while he's rambling about something innocent, maybe a new spare costume from Art, maybe breakfastāand you justā¦ scoop him. You sidle up behind him, say nothing, and just lift him, legs tucked under your arm, shift your hips, shoulder to his waist, like a perfect Olympic carry. Before he knows it, youāve hoisted him over your shoulder like a sack of sex-starved potatoes.
āWhaābabe?? IāI can fly???ā Heās flailing a little, holding onto your shoulder like āwhy is this working???āĀ He canāt believe this is happening. He doesnāt resist. He doesnāt know how. āYou canāt justā! I mean, you can, obviously, butāholy shit."
You set him on the counter like you just bought him for sale at a warehouse, and his jaw drops. His face is beet red. His muscular thighs press together instinctively; shocked, SOMEHOW fully hard and ashamed but proud. His fingers run over his eyes, sighing to himself before staring at you through his lashes.
ā...Okay. That was kind of hot. Are we gonna talk about it, orā¦?ā
Heās not okay, no, heās better. Youāve just revealed a strength kink he didnāt know he had. You lean in, hands on the counter beside his hips, and smirk. Heās speechless, eyes wide, trying not to let you see how turned on he is. He fails as his head turns at lightning speed to rinse his mouth in the sink, he returns to his place on the counter like a good boy before his hands roughly reel you in, his minty fresh tongue prodding your lips without hesitation.
His Inner Monologue: Okay, okay, donāt panic. Sheās strong. Sheās insanely strong. I didnāt know that was possible. I mean, I guess I always suspected but likeāDAMN. Is it weird that Iām into this? No? Itās fine. Totally normal. Donāt get a boner. Donātāoh god. Okay. Smile. Play it cool. Act like you didnāt just get bench pressed like a cheerleader. CONTROL YOURSELF. Everything about her is soā¦
Sweet boy is on his phone the second itās over, scrolling TikTok with you, stammering the entire time. āI mean, I guessā¦ I didnāt know that was a thing? But yeah, yeahāitās kinda cool. Cool-cute. Cute-cool. Shut up.āĀ Heās red in the face. Canāt stop thinking about it.Ā Absolutely let's you do it again.
He now peers over your shoulder whenever you scroll social media. He isnāt sure whether he should prepare himself mentally or physicallyā¦or even at all for the charades you might pull. Heās playfully terrified, but oh so enthralled.
ļ½”š¦¹Ā°ā§ No Goggles Mark
He clocks it instantly, and his head tilts, mouth quirking into a suspicious grinālike a cat who knows heās pretty. Of course, he would. It's lensless Mark, and let's be honestā¦ he's definitely pulled pranks and made memes out of your reaction to send you during arguments.
You just walk up like youāre on a mission. He doesnāt move when you grab him, in fact, he makes it harderājust to be a shit with no assistance. Just a dry, "this oughta be good" look on his face. But thenā¦ his grin falters. āWaitāwhat are youāDude. Babe. Babe. Youāre not gonnaāOH MY GODāā
You lift him like ITS NOTHING, one arm under his knees, one across his back, like some twisted bridal carryābut halfway through, you grab him by the waist and shoulder, and in one powerful motion, you toss him over your shoulder instead. You sling him easily like youāre about to carry a sack of bricks to hell.
He loses his mind. āOh my god. Okay. This is real now. Youāre actually carrying me. IāI think this is working??? I might be in love.ā
āTHIS IS A CORE MEMORY.ā
āDude. I canāt believe Iām saying this, but I think I need you to do that again. Take me.ā
Heās laughing and moaning and definitely trying to grind against your back simultaneously. Even spitting out things he KNOWS will irritate you. It's like heās short-circuiting, fighting the urge to beg you to spar with him and wanting to grind himself into a puddle. You drop him on the counter, and he just stares at youāeyes wide, hair tousled, pupils blown.
Inner Monologue: Holy shit. Dude. DUDE. Iām being carried, like, full hoist. I should be fighting this. Or saying something hot. But Iām close to whimpering. Is this what being prey feels like? I like it. I hate it. No, I love it. This is love. This is lust. This is spiritual. Am I about to propose? God, Iām so gone. Sheās gonna use this against me forever. ...I hope she does.
You give him a smug once-over, hands on your hips like you just completed a flawless routine. Heās already panting, fingers twitching against the counter, legs spread instinctively. You lean forward, close enough to feel his breath hitch. āStill think Iām too soft to handle you?ā
He groans really loud āOkay, wow. That was weirdly hot. Thatās it. Youāre coming home with me.ā
He goes full gremlin, and I mean more than usual. He teases you relentlessly about it for a week and starts fake-limping like you injured him. But secretly? Heās watching his back. āDude, next time just say you wanna dom me. Iāll throw myself into your arms, easy.ā Heāll search ādominant girlfriend lifting boyfriend tropeā on Tumblr at 2am.
åø( ā¢Ģ_ā¢Ģ )åø Mohawk MarkĀ
Heās posturing, arms crossed, smirk heavy. You wait until heās talking shit. Heās leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, mouth mid-rant about something some other variant did wrong. Probably threatening violence or about to call you a smartass.
Something about how you couldnāt handle him and about your ācute little arms,ā and how heād break you before you got the chance to try anything bold. Thatās when you step in close, hands sliding around his waist, a dangerous little smirk on your lips.
āYou gonna try to lift me again?ā he asks, almost with an amused gleam but something that encourages you regardless.Ā
You donāt give him time to finish. You grab him by the thighs, shoulder into his stomach, and heās airborne before he can blink. He hits your shoulder with a grunt, eyes wide, palms on your back. He was hauled as if youād done this a dozen times before.
āThe fuckāHEYāwhat the hell?!ā
He yelps, yes, Mohawk Mark yelps. The way his hands grab at your back says he hates how much he likes it. You walk him across the room and drop him on the kitchen counter like heās not 180+ pounds of alien muscle and attitude. His ass hits the granite with a thud, and he stares at you with a raised brow.
And then he grins, obviously impressed. You were always his favorite version of you.
āYou really gonna manhandle me like that?ā He snorts, licking his lips. āYou better fuck me after this, or I swearāā
Inner Monologue: No way. No fucking way she just did that. You let one woman pick you up and suddenly your dickās got a mind of its own. Nah. Hell no. Thatās hot though. Shit. Look at her faceālike she didnāt even break a sweat. Damn. Okay. This is happening. Donāt get soft. You are not the prey. Youāre the damn predator. Youāre just letting her win. For now.
You stared down at him as if granting yourself a tribute. You lean forward, slide your fingers under his chin, and tilt his face toward you. His pupils blow wide. His smirk twitches, more like slants, very obviously. āAnd if you donātā¦ Iām gonna rail the shit outta you for that,ā he mutters, already half-hard.Ā ā...And Iām still gonna let you do it again.ā
Acts like heās over it, but you catch him doing push-ups in the middle of the night. He keeps testing you: āBet you canāt do it again.ā Immediately gets hard when you can. He doesnāt need to search trends when he already knows you unlocked something for both of you.
ā Viltrum Mark
Heās mid-mission debrief, completely in control, arms crossed, expression unreadable, per usual. You step into his space like youāre going to kiss him. Heās used to your usual distractions, youāve grown awfully bold recently. As much as he decline to admit, intimate gestures made by you have grown more meaningful.
And then you hoist his royal Viltrumite ass over your shoulder. He freezes and you can feel every muscle in his body go tense. The carry was truly your best efforts. Your hands locked, body braced, hefted over your shoulder before he realizes whatās happening. Heās fully rigid against you.
He doesnāt say a word, but his cock twitches with a jolt . Its sudden, so much that heās internally disappointed in himself. His hands tighten on your back, his jaw tensing in silence. Youāve just short-circuited centuries of dominant, imperial Viltrumite wiring in one motion.
You sit him down, but still, he stays silent. Watching you and almostā¦ burning? She lifted me. She LIFTED me? You set him on the counter, slow and casual, and step back like it was nothing.
Oh, man. You donāt know what youāve just awakened in him. āYou touched me. You lifted me,ā his stare says. āAnd now Iām going to touch you backāand not gently.ā
He says nothing. But heās hard. Breathing slower. Eyes darker. Youāve just violated the natural order and he wants more.
Inner Monologue: This is impossible. This is unacceptable. This is the most erotic thing thatās ever happened to me. She has no idea what sheās done. She touched me like I was hers. She moved me like I didnāt weigh more than her car. I should punish her. I should worship her. I should bend her over the counter she dropped me on and rut until I forget my name.
You lean in to speakābut he grabs your throat, lips hovering just an inch away. He hust stares, his eyebrow jumping slightly as he scrutinizes you under his gaze. His lips suction to yours as his strong hand keep you tucked away against his chest.
And claims you an hour later.
He doesnāt talk about it. He doesnāt acknowledge it. But from now on, anytime you walk behind him he tenses. Like you might strike again. He lets it happen onceā¦ maybe twice. By the third time, youāre the one on the counter.
Donāt push the boy too far, okay?
ą“¦ąµą“¦ą“æ/į ļ½”āøļ½”į\ Omni Mark
You lift him without warning. Not because he didnāt expect it, but because you did it so easily. One moment he was standing, the next he was over your shoulder, dead silent. He doesnāt resist, but rather watches you as if anticipating your shenanigans. You approach and grab his hips. You lift him over your shoulder, and his eyes flicker, barely, before going wide behind you.
You carry him like a queen dragging her knight back to the throne. Set him on the counter, legs spread, hands braced behind him.Ā
ā...Impressive.ā
āYou know that wasnāt necessary.ā
His voice drops an octave. Something seductive, maybe even dangerous. ā...Do it again.ā
Itās not just desire, it's a curiosity, like heās testing what else youāll do. More like, what else heāll let you do. What it means to let go. He killed his father, he continued his mission, and yet you test his patience daily with the full confidence he won't harm you. And he knowsā¦ he could never bring himself to. Every day you prove another reason to be useful, even in smaller ways like now.
You set him down, and he doesnāt speak. His face simply quirks into something more lighthearted, an amused huff leaving his nose as his arms cross over his broad chest. Rather, he just stares for a long moment.
Inner Monologue: She lifted me. Effortless. Like I wasnāt the most dangerous thing on this planet. Iāve never allowed this. Never wanted this. But with herā¦ I crave it. Her hands on me. Her strength. Her boldness. It makes me feel something primal and unfamiliar. Something terrifying. Something I donāt want to end.
You donāt say anything. You just rest your hands on his thighs causing his muscles to twitch and his breathing to stutter. His voice drops an octave and his eyes are blown wide. Heās calm, so calm its scary. And the way his hand settles on your hip as you walk away? Heās basically obsessed.
He reaches for your wrist and pulls you in. And finally lets go of his inhibitions. He now sits in chairs you canāt reach from behind. Heās not afraid, but every so often, he saysādead seriousā āYouāre going to do it again. Arenāt you?ā
ą„ą¤¾ą„ą„ Sinister Mark
He knows, you havenāt even touched him yet and heās knows. That twitch in your fingers, the way your eyes narrow with a plan, or the barely-concealed grin trying to ruin your face.
āYouāre thinking about something dangerous,ā he hums, not even looking up as he leans back against the counter. āThat little face you make when youāre frustrated? Precious. I love that look.ā Your funny prank suddenly became something to prove. His eyes followed the line of your jaw, watching as it tensed.
āLook at you. All attitude and no plan. Itās honestly impressive how consistent you are.ā You donāt answer. You just step forward, plant your hands on his thighs, and hoist him upāfull shoulder carry, deliberate, not asking for permission. He doesnāt flinch when you grab him and doesnāt blink when you lift him like a plaything. He lets you as his arms relax, cock already hard against your shoulder.
He doesnāt struggle, albeit heās surprised, but his all-masking smile is like a customer service blanket from him raging internally. And when you drop him onto the counter like youāre mounting a prize, he stays still for a second. Just looking at you. Grinning slow. āOhhā¦ oh, sweetheart. Thatās dangerous.ā
He chuckles in your ear. Voice low. Teeth sharp. āI hope you know what youāve just done.ā
āYou lift me. I break you. Thatās the new arrangement.ā His eyes read, are you trying to start something or finish it? You donāt respond, only smirking, which is worse.
His hands slide behind him on the countertop. Legs part, slow and lazy, welcoming but a trap nontheless. He tilts his head, studying you like youāre a riddle he already solvedābut wants to hear you tell it wrong.
āCāmon then. You had all that confidence when you picked me upāletās see what you do with me now,ā he murmurs, gaze growing heavier. Then, smiling, āI like my toys begging and breathless.ā You really thought heād let you get away without consequences? You start, and he finishes; thatās usually how this goes.
You were so pretty when you pouted at his light jeers. He was afraid youād grown boring, yet every interaction pulled something new, something worth taking. He finds this all adorable, but is honestly... kind of a chatty brat during the whole ordeal. Not for long anyway.
Inner Monologue: Oh, sheās bold today. I like it. She wants to flip the script? Let her. Let her think sheās got control. I wanna see how far she takes it before she starts shaking. God, her hands feel good. Confident. Dangerous. Maybe Iāll let her think she won. She didnātā¦ did she? No. ...Then Iāll pin her down and make her beg to lose again.
He lets you lift him again. Why? Because he knows where it ends. If you ever approach him with another trend, expect it to end covered in sweat and tears. It seems youāve gotten the roles confused on whoās dominant... or did you? (PEG THAT MAN)
į( ā¢Ģ į ā¢Ģ )į Hooded Mark
You wait for the exact moment when heās halfway into a smug line, something like āYou always act brave before you breakāāand then you grab him mid-smirk. You two are constantly at odds over whoās stronger without the use of powers. The obvious answer is him, sure, but your ego doesnāt allow you to submit. He doesnāt flinch, but you can feel the slight hitch in his breath as you hoist him over your shoulder, one arm under his thighs, the other bracing his back.
āYouāre notāā whoop āShitāokay.ā
He lands on your shoulder upside down and utterly speechless. He respects and resents you currently. Yet, heās amused. āOh, this is new. You better start prayinā once you put me down.ā
You drop him onto the counter, and he stays seated, head tilting, smirk twitching. āFuckinā hell. You strong now, huh? Pick me up once and suddenly you run shit?ā His hand proceeds to keep down your lower back.Ā You nod in response, proud of yourself. āYeah? That supposed to scare me, babe? āCause all it did was make my dick twitch.ā
He doesnāt stop you, nor does he stop the raunchy gestures. Just grinds against you the entire time with lazy amusement. Your perseverance is something he never shies away from, even in the bedroom when youāre determined to match him. Something about it awakens something feral within him.Ā
When you set him down and he was already scheming. Already licking his lips. Thereās a glint behind the lenses of his maskāsomething hot, wild, and very aware. āAlright. You win this round.ā
He leans in, lips brushing your jaw.
āBut just wait ātil Iām on top next time.ā
Inner Monologue: Okay. Interesting play. Sudden. Clean form. Surprising core strength. I respect it. She's trying to flip the power dynamic? Bold. Noted. But how far will she go? Is this a one-time power move or a recurring kink? ā¦Is it mine now? I might make it mine. She doesnāt know what sheās started. Sheās so hot when she doesnāt ask for permission.
Heās acting normal, cocky and unbothered. But the next day, heās straight petty. Heās watching his backā¦ but heāll never admit he kinda liked it. (He absolutely jerked off thinking about it.) After a while he accidentally conditioned this as a form of foreplay. Your bedframe is in danger.
(ā„āøā„) Masked Mark
Heās mumbling something under his breath. Sitting on the edge of the bed, unarmored, quiet, vulnerable. Which makes it the perfect time to strike. You lift him without warning. You bend down, arms around his thighs, and hoist upwards. His breath catches, and he yelps, a soft and shocked sound, arms flailing for a second like he forgot what stability was.
His body locks. āWaitāwaitāyouāre not reallyāoh my god.ā
He melts physically, emotionalā¦ maybe even spiritually. You shoulder him effortlessly and strut toward the counter. He says nothing else. Just goes completely limp in your hold, like a captured princess with bloodlust.
You set him down gently. His fists clench against his thighs, his chest rises and falls like heās panicking, but alsoā¦ vibrating. Youāre not even halfway done teasing, but heās almost certain heās pitching a tent. Sure, he loves you and all the qualities that come with but his body and mind canāt seem to communicate properly. He sighs, this isn't something to be hard about.
He looks up at you like you just saved his life before dropping his head in his hands. āNo oneās ever done that before,ā he whispers in his head. āPlease do it again. Please do anything. Iāll let you. It doesnāt just have to be because of a trend. Deal?ā
He doesnāt look up. But if you do, youāll see the most pathetically hard, desperate expression heās ever worn.
Inner Monologue: She touched me. She lifted me. I was off the ground. I didnāt breathe. I couldnāt breathe. She just manhandled me like I wasnāt dangerous. Like I was safe to touch. Like I was hers. Holy shit Iām gonna cry. Iām gonna cry AND cum. Can you do both? What if I sob into her shirt? Is that hot? Please do it again. Please do worse. Please never leave.
You lean forward, kiss the corner of his mouth, and feel him shiver like a wire about to snap. āYou liked that?ā He nods, tense and oddly quiet and still hard, but he hasnāt said a word. Heās never forgetting this. And heās never forgetting the horrors your phone allows you to exploit from his sensitivity. He starts flinching every time you get too close from behind. āWaitāare you gonna do it again?ā But lowkey? He wants you to. He wants to be your strong little passenger princess on the low.Ā Googles ācan strength be sexyā like 6 times. Starts sleeping with one leg over you like heās afraid youāll float away or pick him up again.
The next morning after sleeping together for the first time.
(Or, you look at him and say Beautiful, and Conquest doesn't know how to feel.)
You're stood in front of the mirror, your entire upper half encapsulated within its reflective surface; Conquest, at his full height, only can see his broad chest and jaw in the mirror.
You realise this and can't help but giggle, giving him an apologetic look, a promise of getting a bigger mirror falling from your lips. He seals it with a kiss, taking his time, tongue prodding at the plastic over your teeth curiously.
"Eww," You laugh. "Hun, I haven't brushed my teeth yet!" You say, like it's supposed to mean something to him. But he lets you pull back, watching with some mild fascination as you pull the retainer out, washing it and putting it into its container.
Your movements are rhythmic, sure, learned; a repetitive dance borne from doing the same thing over and over again.
You grab your toothbrush and apply the paste; you brush your fine teeth, pearly whites with nary an imperfection.
A glance into the mirror, back bowed to see himself in full, shows his own teeth, crooked and jagged like broken glass; shark teeth, he's heard the term. He thinks it applies.
Running his tongue over them, he thinks, What an odd thing to be self-conscious of. Yet he does it again, wonderingā¦
By Viltrumite standards, he is damn near perfect, only Thragg being above him, the epitome of Viltrumite culture.
But Conquest is old, balding, scarred; both wanted and not, these things. His age shows his power in a way his fists do not, proof he's survived, unbeaten, so long; his scars prove he's battled many, even those possibly, presumably, stronger than him, and came out on top. The hair loss is another point in the age thing but is not, sadly, attractive or desirable among any species.
Viltrumites are known for their short, militaristic hair, after all. His isā¦ a bit of a mess. Though that might just be because he just woke up.
You rinse your mouth out and give him a lopsided grin.
"Pretty," You coo, and it slices into him, a sudden, unexpected strike that leaves him feeling unbalanced.
What?
You cup his cheek and kiss him, minty fresh, another apology for things being not suited to his size falling from your lips. You give him another kiss before pulling away, letting him brush his own teeth.
Pretty.
What is that supposed to mean? Surely you don't mean him. That wouldā that would be outrageous! Conquest is not pretty.
As he begins brushing his own teeth (jagged edges fit for ripping into flesh), he can't help but ponder it. Pretty. A word used to describe aesthetically pleasing things such as flowers or a softer way to say beautifulā
Did you find him beautiful? Him? With his thick fingers that could gauge out your eyes, his uneven, raised scars, his shark teeth, and his old, worn face?
Did you look into his aged eyes and see beauty?
He bends, spitting out the paste viciously, staring into his reflection. He saw centuries of bloodshed and horrors in those eyes. These eyes of his, you stared into and said I love you to, had seen entire civilisations wiped out, had stared down apathetically as he squeezed the life out of his own people, those too weak to survive.
Conqueror. He thinks. These are the eyes of a conqueror, and you find them beautiful.
He blinks, and you're back, placing a seat behind him. He sits after a moment of hesitation and remains still as you begin brushing his moustache.
"You don't mind?" You whisper, sitting on his thigh.
"Not at all." He drawls, lost in your eyes. Now, that's what he calls pretty. "Go ahead."
You begin, careful, apologising every time you think you've hurt him, the bristles scratching at skin instead of hair; it's fine, sweet thing, he can't feel it. You could stab himā try to, reallyā and he wouldn't even feel it.
Soft. You're so soft. He can barely comprehend it despite being with you for three months and eight days. An insignificant amount of time, he has to remind himself, yet when thinking back on things, the moments spent with you come to him faster, so much clearer than the bleak, monotonous years spent doing the same old shit.
Once done, his moustache properly groomed and taken care of, you give him a bright smile.
"Beautiful," You whisper, almost to yourself, giving his chin a quick kiss.
Looking at his reflection as you begin to get up, he thinks he can begin to see what you mean.
here with another request :))) I donāt mind if it takes a while though, Iām sure you have lots of requests you can totally take your time <33 I love your stuff!!! Make sure to take time for yourself and drink water and all that good stuff!!
anyways something fluffy with Johnny maybe?? Like youāre just cuddling and being soft?? Sighs dreamily
sorry to ask so soon after another ask I just had the Johnny brainworms (itās terminal)
-š«
Hiiii š«non!! Youāre so sweet, I love seeing you pop up in my inbox!I can absolutely feed your Johnny brainworms <3 (theyāre totally contagious and you gave them to me. What have you done.) And donāt worry about sending me requests so often, I donāt mind one bit! Yāall are free to send me stuff whenever you want , as often as you want!
āāāāāāāāāāāā
Peace ā Johnny Joestar x reader
āāāāāāāāāāāā
āOkay guys, I think Iām gonna call it quits for tonight. Are we all set to head out after sunrise tomorrow?ā
āYeah.ā
āSweet. Night, you two.ā
āNight, Gyro.ā
Gyro slipped into his tent, ending the conversation. As you stamped out the fire and packed away your stuff, you looked over at Johnny, who was still sitting by the now-unlit campfire.
āMan, itās cold tonightā¦ā he said. The desert was quiet, save for the sound of Gyroās snoring and a burrowing owl somewhere off in the distance.
āYeah. Wanna stay in my tent?ā
āDo you even have to ask that question?ā
You chuckled to yourself, walking over to Johnny. He looked up at you with his arms outstretched, and you squatted down in front of him. He wrapped his arms around your neck as you put one of your arms in the crook of his knees and the other under his shoulders, lifting him up and holding him bridal-style.
āIām so glad Gyro isnāt awake right now, heād NEVER let me live this down.ā You and johnny chuckled to each other, and he pulled himself even closer to you. āItās better than you having to drag yourself through the sand though, right?ā
āYeah. Iād rather get made fun of by Gyro than have to do that. Itās so much work.ā
You ducked into your tent, setting Johnny down and climbing into your bedroll. After a few moments of digging through his bag, he joined you. He climbed on top of you, his head on your chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You brought your hand up onto his back, running your nails from the base of his spine, across his back, up his neck and to the top of his head over and over. He hummed in content and breathed a sigh of relief.
āWhat should we do after the race, Johnny?ā You asked.
āI dānnoā¦ā¦ go on a date somewhere real niceā¦. Move in togetherā¦ā¦ get marriedā¦..ā he mumbled.
āIād like that.ā You replied. You sat up a bit, pressing kisses to the top of his head while you continued scratching his back. Johnny felt like he was in heaven, lifting his head to meet your face with his. His soft, tired smile absolutely melted your heart. Time seemed to slow down as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you gently. Lovingly. And as you pulled away, you felt that the only things on the planet right then were you and him. Holding each other, keeping each other warm in the harsh coldness of the wild American desert. Neither you nor him had ever felt this way about anyone before, and through spending so much time with him, you realized that if you married anybody, it would be Johnny.
Johnny, while standoffish at first, had made your heart jump as soon as you first met him ā and unbeknownst to you, heād felt the same way.
You had unbeatable chemistry and hit it off as soon as he realized you were gonna be sticking around as a permanent fixture of him and Gyroās group. You had confided in each other, laughed together, cried together, fought alongside one another. In the short time youād known each other, your feelings and his had both budded into something better than either of you could have ever imagined. So here you were now, cuddling with him under the night sky.
āYou make me feel so relaxedā¦ I donāt think I could ever conk out on anybody else like this. I love you, Y/N.ā
Oh! That was new. Your heart jumped when those words came out of his mouth. Neither of you had ever said that before.
āI love you too, Johnny.ā
He kissed you again, this time bringing his hand up to cup your face, admiring you after he was done. You were so, so beautiful. He felt like heād never seen anyone, even when he was surrounded by adoring fangirls and fanboys, rich nobles, models, famous people, heād never seen anyone who looked as ethereal as you did.
āYāknow,ā Johnny began. āI never thought Iād fall in love with anyone. I didnāt think it was something that even really happened. But I understand now, ācause Iāve got you. Iām in love with you for sure.ā
You thought about that for a second, feeling honored to be his first love. āWere you serious when you talked about moving in together and getting married earlier?ā You asked, cocking your head to the side in question.
āWhy wouldnāt I be? I think Iād marry you right now if I could. Iām sure of it. Youāre the one for me and I know it.ā
You were surprised that he was being so blunt with that. He must be exhausted, you thought. Johnny had a tendency to blurt out whatever he was thinking when he got tired enough.
āI feel the same way, Johnny.ā You said, brushing his hair out of his face with your hand. āJust so you know, if you asked me to marry you, Iād say yes in a heartbeat. Youāre the most wonderful man Iāve ever known, and Iād be the luckiest person on the planet to get to marry you.ā
āNahhhhhhh. I think Iād be luckier,ā Johnny smirked.
āNo, Iādā hey!ā You giggled as Johnny plastered a flurry of little kisses all over your face, pushing you back down onto your bedroll. When you were done laughing, and he was done āattackingā you, he put his head back down and gave you a squeeze. You fell asleep that night thinking dreamily about what your life would be like after the race ā married to Johnny Joestar.
this account looks sick and I love your Diego pfp!!!
can I request some hcās for Johnny Joestar x reader romantic pairing? :) can be NSFW or SFW, as you like it!!
-š
Hiiiiii š, thank you! Diegoās been my favorite character since like, middle school, so I made him my pfp on here. I am OBSESSED with part 7 at the moment so this request is very fitting!
You said sfw or nsfw, but Iāll do you one better and just write them both : )
You first met him during the steel ball run race, and were initially surprised. Youād heard the news of the disgraced ex-jockey, especially after his fall from stardom, but youād never expected to see him in person.
You had ended up semi-befriending Gyro at a checkpoint somehow, and tagged along with him and Johnny for a while. Gyro didnāt really mind you, as heād been the one to allow you to stick around, but Johnny was skeptical of you at first.
He wouldnāt say much to you without you initiating conversation first, and heād be kind of jerk-y with the way he spoke to you. Short, one-word, sometimes even snappy, responses. Heās just annoyed that him and Gyro have an extra person to worry about.
Eventually though, through time spent with them during the race, you garnered Johnnyās trust and became an unofficially permanent fixture in the duo-turned-trio.
Johnny started warming up to you and starting light conversations, initially just making small talk to learn more about you, why youāre in the race, where youāre from, etc. He likes knowing little details about you, and he makes sure to remember them all.
Before he confessed to you, heād start acting really weird to you. Heās AWFUL at hiding how he feels, so you picked up on his nerves right away. When you asked him about it, he just kind of blurted out that he was just nervous around you. You picked up on what he meant and told him you felt the same.
After the initial nerves settle, heās a pretty good boyfriend. Heās got a little bit of an ego so heāll be slow to let you in on his past or the things that have happened to him, but once he does, he kinda just spills it all out at once just to get it over with. He gets kind of uncomfortable in emotional situations, and doesnāt really know how to deal with them, so heās very awkward but tries his best.
PLEASE love on him. When he thinks about the idea of being coddled or doted on, heās initially averse to it. But when you lay next to him and run your nails up and down his back, he melts into your touch and embraces it. Heāll rarely admit it, but he was definitely in severe need of some TLC.
His love languages are mainly physical touch and acts of service.
Speaking of acts of service, being paraplegic is hard. Heāll never ask for it, but he definitely wonāt complain if you notice something heās unable to do as easily as able-bodied people and decide to help him out a bit, like getting something off of a high-up shelf or walking across the room to grab something for him so he doesnt have to hassle himself into/out of his wheelchair for a 10-foot round trip. Not that he needs to be babied or anything, he just appreciates the little bit of extra help.
There isnāt much room for dates during the race, but he promises to take you out somewhere nice once you have free time.
Insists on sharing sleeping arrangements with you when you stop for the night and ends up putting his freezing cold hands (and feet, if they somehow happen to get moved) all over you.
Sassy. If you say anything stupid heās giving you the most DIABOLICAL side-eye the world has ever seen and scrunching up his face.
// A/N: Totally ignoring the bug bite thing heās got going on. Iām not writing that. Sorry but not really sorry cause it grosses me out </3. Also this is my first time writing NSFW, so please excuse if itās bad :, )
Heās so freaky. So freaky. I donāt know what his problem is.
How he likes it really depends on how yāall are feeling that day. He either likes it super rough- hair pulling, biting, all that fun stuff- or he likes it slow, sweet, and loving. Heās willing to try just about anything, though.
Since he canāt use his legs, the only positions he can really be in involve you riding him, or somehow finding a way to prop him up so you can fuck/peg him. Not much room for creativity in the positions department, unfortunately, but yāall make it work.
Despite his ego, heās a total sub. No questions asked. Heād be down to be dominant if you really wanted him to be, but he prefers to have you take the reins. (GET IT BECAUSE HEāS A COWBOY!! IāM HILARIOUS!!)
Heās pretty experienced because he was a total man-whore during his famous jockey era, so he knows his way around sex pretty well.
Sometimes he likes to stop and admire you while youāre doing it. Heād just lay there and ogle at you for hours if he could.
Good with aftercare. He likes taking baths together and then falling asleep in each otherās arms afterward.
Hey (bites lip) it's the volleyball asker, kindly requesting if you'd do the same volleyball request but with the EMH guys (rubbing hands together dryly) please if it's alright :3
Hai!! sorry this took ages i have been. ahem. going through some things. nevertheless....
(pre-emh) Evan, Vinny, and Jeff x a volleyball player gf!
Evan:
He loves it!! And you <3
cheers embarrassingly loud at your games
Literally your biggest fan, can and will fight anyone cheering for the other team. Turns up to every match, rain or shine. especially rain. It isn't his fault the rain makes your shirt stick to you like that. i digress.
Fitness is honestly all of their thing, but his especially. Would love to train with you!!
Probably designs specialised workouts and does them with you :)) princess carries you to the bedroom when you're too tired and helps you calm down if you catch my drift....
likes that you're muscular like him, probably play wrestles with you a ton! loves having a partner as a active as he is.
the play wrestling also leads to... bedroom activities, every now and then. Often right then and there.
Vinny walked in on you one time and now makes a mental note to call ahead of time before going to your apartment.
Vinny:
also very active!! of course he is considering he runs a fitness channel with the guys.
honestly would probably love to have you do a cameo on the channel with him!! you could talk about cardiovascular health or something :))
plus he gets to show you off!
shows you off. a lot
honestly how is he lucky enough to have you?? He knows that his body type isn't like, the most traditionally attractive. he isn't self conscious or anything, he just knows not too many people fw his dad bod
but he has you, and you're so talented and strong and he WILL show you off at any possibility. Look what he got!! you're his!!! he loves you!!
so yeah, you make a few cameos on the channel :))
i have a sort of cute idea in mind where he just picks you up and carries you in front of the camera. he's not shredded or anything, but he is very muscular!!
just loves picking you up honestly
a lot more gentle than Evan with it - he knows you can handle it, but he's just a more gently person at heart methinks!!
Jeff:
Now i think out of the boys Jeff is the least active
not to say that he's unfit or anything, i think he's a lot skinnier and leaner than the other boys. He's more into running and stuff! he'd love to go on runs with you <3
i also think he'd practice throwing balls with you and stuff!! you'd beat his ass so hard
he's into it
what
who said that
anyways
Does not play about taking photos of you playing. Too shy to push people out the way or anything, but somehow gets good shots anyway
takes a ton of photos just generally honestly, could see him making a scrap book or photo album of the two of you or something for your anniversary :)
But yeah as i said he's totally into the fact you're probably stronger than he is.
Pick him up and throw him on the bed and that man is YOURS.
I am BEGGING you people for requests... requests.... pleasee...... begging....
I've been trying to get back into writing and honestly requests would be a livesaver.... i do char x reader... char x char... headcanons.... drabbles... anything
Tw: HABIT being HABIT | violence| marijuana usage | HABIT is obsessed with t-guy pussy god whispered this in my ear at 3 am | HABIT is obsessed with FAT T-guy pussy | LIGHTLY TOUCHED ON FEEDING | implied MC running on caffeine and weed and not very much sleep| monster habit (I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY NO IM NOT)
For š anon
For Evan fuckers: Oh, deer!
-We all know this man is a sadist and masochist, we can't pretend we don't.
-hes a biter!!! He will bite you! Like hard enough to need stitches. You've had a few embarrassing ER visits. (Habit can dress wounds and stitch you up but he just likes how embarrassed you get about it)
- he and Evan are very different in bed, but one thing they have in common is giving head like a god. Dude low-key is obsessed with your cunt.
-but he's good at a 'sloppy drooling messy' kind of head that Ev cannot provide.
- fuck he's in love with your body. Like, he grabs your belly and just plays with it, literally salivating at the idea of leaving hickeys.
- he fucks you in a mirror so you can watch the way your body moves as he fucks you.
-oh and he loves your boobs , hairy man tits? Who fucking wouldn't.
- he stares at them constantly. You couldn't get him to tell you the color of your eyes but he has every hair on your chest memorized š«”.
- he's into prey and predator dynamics, he gets so incredibly hard when he's chasing you through the woods he can't help himself.
- Vinny has been caught in this game of yours by accident a few times , and if he finds you, covered in bite marks half naked with twigs in your hair and he just gives you one of these looks:
- HABITs into knife play, you have lots of scars from it and he doesn't feel bad Abt it šā.
- HE WANTS TO BE PEGGED but with one of the ones with a silicone grinding thing inside so it grinds right against your t-dick.
-hes a dom bottom mind you.
- but you peg him and he becomes a stupid feral mess.
(so obsessed with the idea I wrote the fanfic Abt it so it's going here instead of at the end)
He could feel your hairy belly press against his back as the silicone abused his prostate; drool pooling on the corner of his lip, looking back and admiring you he let out a purr. You look away, you can't look at the smug very fucked drunk grin you're sure he's giving you.
Your hips stutter against him and he tenses as you hit his prostate dead on, his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as you wring another orgasm from him.
You begin to slow your hips, grinding the silicone tip slowly inside of him, exhaustion and want find respite in your bones.
You need to stop and cum, this grinding wasn't enough, you needed more, his tongue, his cock, his fingers his anything.
He presses against you, back arching with the curve of your stomach, resting against it as he comes into a position that shouldn't be comfortable.
You avoid his eye contact and his thumb, middle finger and index finger grab at your face, turning your head harshly to look at him.
His eyes bore into yours and it makes you want to squeeze your own shut, but you just can't, like he has some kind of hold on your mind you cant avoid his gaze.
His face is flushed, and he's drooling. But his eyes, while dilated and wet with tears, were strong and threatening.
"I didn't say you could slow down rabbit." He rolls his hips against yours and it sends pleasure shooting across your body.
"Good little rabbits do what they're told. They run when they're told to run, right?" He captures your lips in his and his tongue forces it's way into your mouth before you can respond.
It's a rough kiss, teeth clacking together and tongues rubbing against each other. You can't help but find yourself getting wetter and wetter, dick getting harder and harder, pressing right up against the grinding pad.
He pulls away and bites your lip hard enough to make you bleed, before letting out a growl.
"So, keep fuckin' me, now. Do what you're told. Run rabbit, run."
-makes you breakfast in bed and he's so hard because he can't stop thinking Abt what your mouth can do and how those teeth can rip and tear apart flesh
-please blow him after eating āØ.
- trust me it's purely to indulge him, don't be surprised if there's something you're allergic to in anything he makes.
- loves getting you really really high to overstimulate you, oh you're really high? Well hes sucking your t-dick rn and finger fucking your hole so have a fun time trying to concentrate on rolling a joint for him.
-it's so badly rolled you literally have to suffocate him with your thighs so he'll back off and you can redo it. It looks like a fucking hard candy.
- Goes fucking feral over your hair, he's into hairy guys and fuck do you fit the bill.
- you keep it at least slightly maintained more for convenience but you don't shave.
- he loves
MONSTER FUCKING AHEAD
-he goes into heat gets bored and can't control himself and goes either fully monster (basically a demon anthro hare with grey and washed out purple fur, sharp teeth and claws) or partially monster (EARS AND TAIL AND TEETH AND CLAWS AND NOTHING ELSE)
- knotted tentacle dick bc peace and love on planet earth.
- he gets real possessive during this kind of thing, leaving enough marks for Vinny to notice. And they're not human sized either
- large, deep, scabbed over marks on most of your visible skin, most will probably scar.
- and vinny doesn't really care (look you're a consenting adult and you seem to contest enthusiastically if what he's heard through the walls indicate.)
-but he DOES give you this look
- and asks a few slightly personal questions, bc what the fuck how do you fuck THAT hard.
- mainly to embarrass you.
- habit thinks your discomfort is funny so even if you try to get him to stop he won't.
- speaking of discomfort- when he's in foreplay is non existent, he'll literally pull your pants and boxers down and fuck you whenever. His dick produces enough lube for it not to hurt too bad. But it's not comfortable.
- he's broken the bed too many times to count, you've tried metal bedframes, you've tried springs, you've tried a water bed (that's not a story you like to talk about), you've done it all, and every time he fucks you hard enough to destroy it beyond repair.
- if you fuck him expect a noise complaint. His vocal chords are different which means he clicks and purrs and shit but also, loud as shit growls that vibrate the house.
- play with his ears and tail and he'll cum immediately (especially with a well angled strap-on.)
- sloppy head just got sloppier with his ultra long tongue and extra drool. Squirt on his face and he'll keep eating you out! (Call now only for the low low price of your soul and all sense of sanity!)
- after care is him licking cum off your chest and then letting Evan take over because fuck that lovey dovey shit. (he'd marry you if he could)
~^Ā°^~^Ā°^~^Ā°^~^Ā°^~ā¢ā .Ģ«ā¢~^Ā°^~^Ā°^~^Ā°^~
I tried my best but got carried away and it's not proof read. Uuh hope you enjoyed? Don't kill me.
"fucked in both ways", ticci toby x athlete reader fuck or die drabble
this was requested on my a03!
cw: noncon, brief mention of sh scars!
kinks: outdoors sex, noncon, toby is dominant and rough, he degrades you a little, fear play, he chases you, that type beat.
In hindsight, taking a walk in the woods at night was a horrible idea, but at the time it felt like a good one, your arms and legs had been burning from training and what better than a relaxing evening walk to calm you down. After all, what could go wrong?
A lot. A lot could go wrong.
It all started off well, at least. The only sounds you could hear were the crunching of the autumn leaves under your feet, and the sound of the birds and wildlife chirping. It was nice, relaxing even. Always nice to get out of the city, to breathe fresh air.
Until you started to get paranoid. It's not hard, alone in the woods, to convince yourself something was going wrong. Odd cracking sounds that weren't from you, footsteps behind you, rustling and a quiet voice.
You were just being paranoid, you told yourself. It was just birds fluttering through the trees, a little later at night than usual. It was just the fauna, the deer, perhaps a rabbit. just your imagination running wild.
It was only when an axe came screaming towards your head that you re-evaluated, deciding there was, in fact, someone following you.
Somehow you managed to duck out of the way just before it thudded into the tree a few inches beside your head.
Before you even processed it you had set off running, legs moving faster than your thoughts.
You felt a hand grab you, yanking you back, coming face to face with a masked man. He looked to be wearing a mouthguard of sort, and a pair of scratched up orange goggles obscuring his eyes. His breath stank of iron as you both stayed silent for a second, both of you heavy breathing.
Untill you swung your leg back and kicked him in the shins, hard. And you knew damn well the kick would hurt, you were an athlete, having strong legs were your thing.
Nothing. No reaction. If anything the man squeezed your shoulder tighter, jerking his head and letting out a laugh.
"Nuh-nice try" He grinned under the mouthguard "Can't feel pain."
In the heat of the moment, you weren't sure how, you managed to pull yourself away, throwing his arm back at him. And you ran, oh how you ran.
You ran until you felt your legs shaking, ready to give out, blood burning as you took heaving breath after heaving breath. You collapsed and leant against a tree, throat dry as you took in gasps. Surely you had lost him.
You didn't know where you were, you couldn't risk calling for help.
"I'm fucked" You groaned under your breath.
"In more ways t-than one" That voice said, and suddenly, you were tackled to the ground.
You weren't sure where he'd come from, all you could focus on was trying to get up, thrashing and kicking at him. You couldn't tell if any of your feeble attempts at punches (your coach would be dissapointed) landed, even if they did it wasn't like he could feel them.
Finally you stopped as he shoved a knee between your legs, arms pinned over your head with both hands as he stared down at you.
His goggles had been pushed up, revealing a pair of deep brown eyes, that despite the eye bags, would almost be pretty if not for the rest of his face. A lot of his skin, especially on the left of his face looked scarred and rough, all convoluting on a massive gash on his cheek, going through to the gums and teeth. His hair was matted and looked like it hadn't been brushed in.. a while as he stared down at you.
"P-please don't hurt me?" You managed out after a few seconds of silence, fear overcoming your pride.
He was silent for a few seconds, before he laughed, neck jerking to the left. It didn't serve to make you feel much better.
"See, heres the - wow! - heres the thing!" He spoke "N-normally i'd kill you f-for trespassing on it's land, a-and make it slow too, suh-since you made it such a pain in the ass."
A few painfully slow seconds passed "ā¦but?"
"You're pretty." He let go of one of your hands, staring at you as if daring you to move it, and ripping off one of his gloves with his mouth, spitting it onto the forest floor a few inches away from you. You finched, and he grinned wider, seeming to enjoy it as he cupped your face.
His hand was rough and callous, and you could see scars on his fingers, almost looking like bite marks along the tips, barely healed up. "A-and i've got a weakness for p-pretty girls. Never got them as a kid, i-i mean look at me" His neck jerked and he inturrupted himself with a laugh "I-i digress. W-what'll it be cutie, fuck, or die?"
"..fuck" You managed, deciding that it couldn't be worse than death.
He didn't even wait to hit you with an 'i told you so', slamming his body into yours, his lips - at least, the majority that was still there - into yours, teeth clashing, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like copper, and something else you couldn't place. You weren't sure if you wanted to know.
He didn't wait, either, to shove his hands under your shirt and squeeze your breasts roughly. And as much as you hated yourself for it, you moaned slightly into his mouth.
He grinned into the rough kiss, taking that as if it meant you enjoyed it, continuing to squeeze, moving one of his hands and squeezing your nipple as you whine into him.
"yuh-you want it, don't you?" He almost purred, goading you, breaking away from the kiss, a few strings of saliva still connecting your mouths.
You stare up at him, almost speechless. After a few seconds you manage to respond. "No-" panting slightly from the kiss.
"L-Liaar" He crowed smugly, removing one of his hands from your shirt, yanking your trousers down. You felt your skin prickle at the sudden cool air from the forest, suddenly exposed to the wind and his prying eyes. And they were prying, alright. The way he stared, you'd think he'd never had sex in his life.
He finally stopped staring as he did the same to your underwear, before pushing his index and middle finger right into your pussy, as you clenched at the sudden intrusion. Fuck, they slid right in. You were wet.
And you felt it, too, now that attention was brought to it. a shameful need in your cunt. The slick from your hole almost dripping onto his hand, down your thighs, onto the forest floor. fuck.
You almost whined as he removed his fingers from your cunt, feeling the emptiness. You clamped your mouth shut, not letting any noise out. You weren't supposed to be enjoying this. But despite yourself, you wanted It. You wanted this- this man who'd tacked you, who'd said he'd kill you. You wanted him to fuck your brains out.
You sat up a little, leaning on your elbows as he pulled back, watching as he struggled with the belt buckle, listening to the metal clink.
His cock was painfully hard, almost straining through his gray boxers as he pulled them down too, cock springing up, pre-cum dripping from the tip as he leant over you. His thighs were lined with scars and bruises, and you almost felt bad for him.
You didn't have long left to feel bad, however, as he positioned himself obove you, grinning wildly, a little saliva dribbling from his mouth. He pressed his tip against your hole, and you tensed up, preparing for him to enter you. but.. nothing.
You reopened your eyes, staring up at his smug grin, a little of his matted hair falling over his face.
"Tuh-tell me you want it"
You squirmed a little at the request, cheeks heating up in embarrasment at the thought, and he grabbed your arm, squeezing hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint bruises tomorrow. He pressed you against the rocky ground.
"c'mon, you know you- you know you want it" He growls "Y-you wanna get fucked by a stranger like a fucking whore d-don't you. C-come on."
"Fine!" You gasp quietly, squirming a bit more, hips bucking up with the need for stimulation. "P-please? i want you to fuck me"
He did not wait to bottom out inside of you, shoving into you, his bony hips meeting yours.
"fuh-fuck" He groans, the sound of his hips stuttering against yours, a rhythmic slapping, echoes through the forest. God, you hoped no one was hikingā¦.
He lowered himself over you leaning in for another kiss, his lips scraping yours. you found yourself kissing him back, moaning and rolling your hips against his, in time with his thrusts.
Your skin prickled with sweat as the two of you , arms wrapping round his shuddering body, digging into his back through his hoodie.
fuck, this was fucking insane. and hot.
His thrusts began to get irregular and disjointented as he started to pant, breaking your kiss, strands of saliva connecting the two of you still.
"S-Scheisse" He cursed quietly through the pants as he continued to thrust, hips juttering against you. "Sh-shit, i'm going to-"
And he came. You could feel it inside you, his hot speed spurting inside of you. The two of you stood - or, more accurately - laid there for a second and radiated in each others body heat.
He pulled out and it dripped down your legs, landing on the forest floor.
his neck jerked as he stared at you, eyes raking appreciatively over your body, cum dripping out of your pussy, bruses up your legs and breasts, shaking.
"Hm. i-i like you." He grins "i think i'm going to - birdie! - going to keep you."
oh my god I really like your MH head canons, would you possibly write something on pre MH (I'm a sucker for that emo/scene kid hair) Alex X fem reader where Alex likes to document their sexual experiences together?
i am SO sorry this took me so long i've been having. some tough days.
at some point i'll reblog this with a drabble!! i really love this idea
he actually didnt really know before you that that was.. something he was into.
the two of you recorded a silly video during the production of marble hornets where you'd kissed on camera and
holy shit
he had to pause the video to stare
good thing he was editing by himself, if you catch my drift. Not his proudest nut but seeing you do that on camera just did something to him.
He was ecstatic when you agreed to have him record!! and promised not to show anyone, obviously
He set up a camera in front of the bed and You've never seen him so enthusiastic
I imagine he'd beā¦ not rougher, per se, on camera, but alot more excited and primal, pushing you into the position he wants, flipping you over, etc.
he'd take a lot more control, too, being more dominant. Probably praises you a ton, especially referencing the camera
"Smile for the camera" "Give us a wave, pretty girl" "good girl, gonna look so fucking hotā¦"
likes it when you make noises for him as well
especially when you moan his name on camera. He knows you're enjoying getting pounded by him, and its even hotter to look back on when he watches the tapes
which he does
type of mf to ask for a video of you masturbating if he leaves the house for longer than hour
Love story - yandere ticci toby x reader chapter 1
cw: stalking, obsessive behaviour, graphic depictions of violence (no shit), and Toby being a total freaky weirdo. Not explicit non-con yet.
No good deed ever goes unpunished.
One late night trip to a convenience store you decide to help a man who knocks over some cans. Toby can't get his mind off you, now. And when he finally finds something that helps him get his mind off the raging in his head and the operators grasp on him, he won't let it go.
AKA. Toby is delusional, horny, and totally obsessed with you.
Without further adieu... with a horrendous word count of 4000+....
Chapter 1: Meet cute
To say toby had no idea when his infatuation with you started would be a lie, he knew exactly when it started. He knew it down to the hour, the minute, the second. How could he forget the moment he metĀ youĀ after all? It was like a romance, one of those rom-com meet cutes. His own sappy love story with his own perfectly happy ending.
It was a cold night, he couldn't precisely remember the time, sure, but he knew the stars were up in the sky, and that it was the midst of winter as there was snow dusting the ground. Colorado's winters wereĀ coldĀ - and as it was cold, Toby got stuck with doing the supply runs. As was apparently "fair". Because of his CIPA he couldn't feel cold (or heat), which meant any time the weather conditions were slightly less-than desirable it was his job to go half-buy half-shoplift the food the mansions residents needed for the next few days. At least, those that didn't eat human flesh.
Not that he really minded. He'd take any chance he could to get out of the mansion for a while, taking Tim's car - an old beaten up Land Rover they had stolen from a victim years ago - and speeding along the highways to the nearest store. Well, not speeding. He was always cautious in cars - he had his reasons.
And it was in one of those convenience stores where he first sawĀ you, memory engraved into his mind forevermore.
You wereĀ beautifulĀ that was for sure. Specks of snow sprinkled over your hair and face, light glinting off them as you made your way into the store, still shivering from the cold as you stopped in you tracks, soaking in the sudden warmth. The harsh lighting just seemed to frame you, like a halo of sorts, a spotlight sending his attention screaming to you. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about you distracted him, If just for a second, from the chaos in his head. The voices and the constant war of emotions died down, to make room for a new emotion. One he hadn't felt in years.
Love.
Toby knew it was love - what else could it be? His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt giddy with what must be affection as he stared at you. He wasn't used to the feeling, but what he knew was it was better than any temporary high his missions could give him, sharp as an axe and twice the rush.
You must have noticed his staring, because by the time he came to his senses and focused again you had met his gaze, head tilted with a nervous half-smile on your perfect face. He had made youĀ smile.Ā A nervous one, but yet a smile, nonetheless.
A sharp crack sounded as his neck jerked, bringing him screeching back to reality, breaking the eye contact and bringing his gaze down to his poorly bandaged hands. Oh, how he wished he dressed better.
He hadn't even bothered to throw on a bandage on his face to cover his gash, instead opting for a single-use blue face mask Jack had lying around. The hoodie he was donned had thumb holes ripped into the cuffs, and he hoped like hell it wasn't one of the ones with obnoxious blood stains. He couldnāt see any on the front, but he would not put it past him to somehow have some sprayed on his back, he got pretty.. Brutal when in the zone.
The next time he looked back to you, you were bent over a little, looking down at some energy drinks. He allowed his eyes to drift over you, taking in everything. Before he could take out his phone and take a photo - not in a strange way, of course, just to remember the occasion - he ticced. At the most inconvenient time possible, naturally. 'Birdie!' he chirped out, followed by a bird whistle, which sent you looking behind yourself in startled confusion, and Toby's gaze to his hands once again.
He continued skirting around you for the next minute or so, before it happened. He was kneeled down, looking at the drinks you were looking at before, imagining sharing one with you, hands brushing each otherās. Toby could finish it in one gulp, seeing you pout, then cup your face and kiss it into your mouth, watching you squeal and close your eyes, lean into him. Some might argue this was too soon, or strange to imagine, but Toby knew it wasn't. He was in love with you, after all, so it was normal.
He was brought out of those pleasant daydreams by a loud clatter, looking down. He'd knocked some drinks off the shelf.
"Fuh-fuck." he cursed quietly
He reached down to fetch them, but someone got to it first -Ā youĀ got to it first. Your hands were so small as they picked it up, he wanted to cup them in his hands and kiss them, feel your soft skin against his own, callous and scarred.
"Th-thanks" he muttered, looking down at you again as he rose up to his full hight, a few inches taller than you are. "S-sorry about that, I have tour-Ā wow!Ā - Touretteās. I have Touretteās."
"It's fine" you gave a little smile, nervously picking at your hands. "Don't worry about it."
The first thing that struck him was your voice. It was.. Perfect. It suited you perfectly. He wanted to play it on loop, set it as his ringtone, his new favourite song.
The second? You didn't judge him for his Touretteās. Of course, you didn't, you were perfect. You were made for him; you wouldn't judge him for anything like that. You weren't like anybody else. He wanted then more than anything to take you in his arms right there, lift you up and take you back to the mansion, to his room, hide you from the rest of the world, have you all to himself. Instead, he waited behind you at the checkout, taking in the faint smell of you, trying to keep a handle on his ticcing and twitching, at least when you were there.
When it was his turn he barely looked at the cashier, slapping a wad of cash on the table and watching him sort through it, bowing his head a little under tobies harsh gaze, snatching the change as soon as it was handed to him. He couldn't lose you, let you get too far, he had to keep track of you.
He tracked you like he would a victim, trailing behind you in the Land Rover, just far behind enough you wouldn't register it, a few cars back. He followed you to an apartment block, parking across the road, watching as you exited the car, oblivious to the eyes of your future lover trailing you.
Thankfully for him you were on the first floor, obvious from the way light visible in one of the windows turned on a few seconds after you entered the building. He made a mental note of the room you stayed in and pulled out from the car park, making his way back to the mansion. It would be suspicious if he came back too late. He would come back for you, though. He had to.
And that he did. He started with simple things, waiting outside the apartment for you to leave and trailing you, learning your routines, your most visited locations, anything about you he could pick up. You liked to read, adorable. He would love to read with you, having your tiny form on his lap, book in hand, resting against him. But until then he would settle for entering the bookstore after you, trailing his hands over the shelves he knew you touched.
It was through this book-store that he finally found your name. His lovers name. He was skulking around the shelves just out of your view, watching you, and occasionally taking a quick photo, with the new phone he had recently brought. More modern than the last one - not just because he needed a better one to film you with, but the decent camera really didn't hurt.
Ā Not in a creepy, stalker way of course. He was sure if he sat down and asked you, you really wouldn't mind.
"Oh, Sidney!" You called, waving to a girl at the counter. You knew her? "Hey!"
"Oh, hey [Y/N]."
[Y/N]. That was your name. His [Y/N], soon to be [Y/N] Rogers. He felt giddy with delight.
Your apartment smelt like you, that was the first thing that struck him. A light, airy sort of scent, that he just couldn't get enough of. He found himself leaning down, opening a drawer and taking a long sniff. It looked like mostly fresh laundry, hoodies and shorts.
He had time; he knew that much. You wouldn't return from your job at that crappy local movie theatre for at least another 3 hours. It was a decent enough job, he supposed, though his skin crawled at the thought of you getting hit on or yelled at by customers. He had had half a mind to follow you and wait just outside, to give anyone who gave you a hard time or evenĀ lookedĀ at you funny a piece of his mind. He refrained, for now however, deciding instead to make the most of his time and spending it getting as close to you as physically possible. Speaking of close..
As he rummaged through your drawers, he came across one with more.. Intimate content. Underwear, it looked like. Your underwear. He reached his hands into the dresser, taking out a bra almost reverently. This had touched your skin, and not just your skin. YourĀ breasts. He was indirectly touching yourĀ breasts.Ā His face was burning and his heart was pounding as he held it, grinning so wide it would have hurt if he could feel pain.
He set it back down in the drawer as another thing caught his eye, what looked like a matching set. Lacy black panties and a skimpy black bra. He hadn't imagine you'd own something like that, but he wasn't complaining. Quite the opposite in fact. He'd ask you to wear it for him when you two were together, but for now, his imagination would suffice. He stuffed a pair of panties he was sure you wouldn't miss into your pocket, and turned to look at the rest of the room.
Over the next week or so, he made himself at home when you weren't there. It was as if he was your lover, your live in boyfriend. He used your toothbrush, laid in your bed, next to where you would lay, imagining your sleeping form lying next to his. He 'borrowed' your clothes and rummaged through your bins, and even killed those racoons that had been raiding your bins for you. He did feel a little bad for the beasts, but anything that inconvenienced his love could not be tolerated.Ā
As a testament to his own self-control, he managed to prevent himself from hiding in your closet and watching you sleep for the majority of the days, no matter how tempting it was. That was, until, you tripped and hurt your ankle on the way to work. And since he could hardly pick you up and kiss you and take care of you, he would do the next best thing. Stick around and make sure you were okay.
That was all he was doing, he told himself, as he shut the door on himself, leaving a good 30 minute window for you to get back. He was being a good boyfriend.
The closet wasn't quite spacious by any means, but he fit fine, If his legs were bent at a weird angle. What did it matter? It wasn't as if he could feel them cramping, and even if he could, it would be worth it to be so close to his beloved. Perhaps it was stupid, reckless. What if he ticced and alerted you? What if you ran, or called the police? Nevertheless love clouded over his logic and better judgement, and so he stayed.
He was euphoric when you got back, not even casting a glance at the usually empty closet. He peered through the gap in the door with wide, enraptured eyes as you continued your daily routine. He stayed staring as you sat on your laptop, and especially as you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing directly at him. It was hard to tell whether the pounding of his heart in his throat and his shaking hands as he took the phone out were nerves at the thought of being seen, or excitement at seeing you so bare in front of him, in just your underwear.
When he felt the tightness in his pants, he decided it was the latter.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā -o0o-
Over the next few days, he became a regular in your closet too. Spending the night in the mansion became a rarity thatĀ he only happened to do when he came back from a late night mission and needed a shower and change of clothes. He preferred being with you, of course, no one enjoys being away from their partner.
The winter was fading by the time he worked up the balls to talk to you again. You were at work in the movie theatre, and he decided he would visit you. He would charm you, and ask you for your number, he had it all planned out.
He donned the best clothing he could find in his closet - a Black turtleneck instead of his usual scrappy hoodies, some trousers, he'd shined his boots, and even worn some cologne! He'd stolen it from a victim previously, and until now, he never had a reason to wear it. He gave himself one last cursory glance in the mirror on the way out, checking his hair wasn't as unruly as usual and that his gash was covered, and left.
The movie theatre wasn't too busy, he was relieved to see. There were only two people on cashier duty, you, and another girl. Most people were in her queue, he noted. She looked pretty, he supposed that was the reason why.
Idiots. Why evenĀ lookĀ at her when they could be blinded by the perfection that was you? Although, internally he was glad really. Less competition.
He tried to seem as casual as possible as he strode in, taking his place in your line, behind what looked like a young couple. How ironic, Toby thought, that he was behind a couple. That was what they were about to be. In love, holding hands, giving each other knowing glances and kisses on the cheeks.
When it was his turn, he walked up to you, jerking his neck and giving a nervous smile, trying and failing to seem like some confident heartthrob.
"Oh, hey, I know you" You spoke, returning his smile. You remembered him. Had you been thinking about him too? "You're uh.. Convenience store guy, right?"
Ā "Y-yeah, that's me. Hey."
"Hey" If you continued smiling like that at him he might just turn into mush in front of you. "What can I get for ya?"
"Oh, uh.." He looked up at the digital signage showing the movies on, deciding on some generic looking horror movie "H-howās 'The -Ā wow!Ā - the Blackcoats daughter'?"
"One ticket for the Blackcoats, alright. Anything else I can get for you sir?"
"Muh-my names Toby, not sir" He stuttered out, earning a little laugh from you that made his heart soar "One B-bucket of popcorn please? L-large"
"That was horrible. I'm [Y/N]. " you respond, before you turn around, perfect hair swishing behind you as you start to fill up a box of popcorn for him. Now was his chance. C'mon Toby, c'mon- She remembered him, she must like him too.
"O-oh, and I forgot one -Ā birdieĀ - one thing."
"Hm?" You turn and face him again
"c-could I get your number? To g-go." He gave you the most charming smile he could muster, though It most likely ended up looking like a begging puppy, desperate for a treat.
You were surprised for a second, blinking a couple of times, before he could see your face flush the prettiest pink you'd ever seen, opening your mouth for a second, searching for a response. You seemed flustered - he made youĀ flustered.Ā God, you were so cute it made him ache.Ā "W-well, sure, do you want me to write it down, or..?"
"I-I have a phone, hang on" He fished his phone out of his pocket, quickly checking his photos app was shut. It would be unfortunate if you saw just how much he adored you quite yet.
You took the phone and typed it in, naming your contact '[Y/N] :)', before handing the phone back. As he took it, your fingers brushed his, and he could of sworn he felt actual electricity pass through you, fingertips tingling where he left yours.
He sent a little text 'Hi, it's toby :)' to test you hadn't given him the wrong number by mistake, smiling even wider when your phone gave an affirmative chime, his bandage over his mouth crinkling a little.
"T-thanks" He managed, sure his voice sounded positively giddy with delight.
"No problem" You smiled back at him "Have a good view!"
He took his ticket and popcorn, and in his excitement, strode out of the movie theatre entirely, forgetting the movie he'd brought. His head was far too full of thoughts of his beloved.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā -o0o-
As much as he longed to spend another night with you, that day he had a mission to attend to. It didn't dampen his mood however, he didn't think anything could. He got your number. YouĀ likedĀ him! You had to, why else would you give it to him? He was so excited he was practically vibrating.
He swung one of his hatchets over his shoulder, practically skipping down the hall and out the door to where Tim and Brian were waiting to murk some oblivious camper who had decided to set up camp in the forest.
"Someone's in a good mood" Tim spoke with his southern drawl, flicking his cigarette butt onto the forest floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot, before taking his mask and covering his face fully once again, letting out a tired sigh. He was one of the few proxies who didn't take much joy in killing.
Toby just nodded. He sure was.
Brian was silent, striding ahead of them, presumably in the direction of their latest victims. His AK-47 strapped to his back, and the baclava with the odd looking frown already donned.
"Hoodies frontin'" Tim spoke, explaining the silence from the man, as he followed along. Hoodie was generally non-verbal, so it didn't surprise him.
Toby had trouble concentrating, on the walk to the campsite. His mind kept drifting to you. More than once Tim had caught him taking his phone out and glancing at the screen. He was just checking if you'd responded to his text, even though he assumed you wouldn't until your shift was over.
"Waiting for somethin'?" Tim spoke, briefly pausing his walk to look at Toby
"Nuh-nothing."
Their short interaction was interrupted by Hoodie holding his hand up to silence them, pointing to a tent in the woods aĀ little way ahead of them. It looked to be a family of three. A father, a daughter, and a Wife. All easy enough targets, no visible weapons save for the pen-knife on one of the logs. That wouldn't be even close to a match for one of them, let alone all three.
"We'll each take one" Tim said, breaking the silence, earning a nod from Hoodie and a 'yep' from Toby. It was go time.
Toby started to walk over slowly, before stopping, just before they noticed him, wet leaves making soft sounds under his feet. He readied his hatchet, holding it behind his head. Three, two, one..
Thwack.
The hatchet landed where he wanted it with a wet thud, buried halfway through the mans forearm. Sure, he could have gone for the head, but he hardly felt like a quick kill. He needed a way to vent out all his excitement, after all.
The man was shocked to the point he couldn't move, eyes wide and staring in horror at his now half-attacked limb, nerves severed, falling limp in front of him with Toby's axe still lodged in. Toby himself let out a manic 'whoop whoop!', the adrenaline of the kill finally kicking in.
The shrill, terrified scream of the child was cut short by the echoing sound of a shot, and Toby watched as a round buried itself in her forehead. Hoodie, always the efficient one.
And then the man stood up, lunging for the knife, and his tunnel vision kicked in, as he sprinted to him, remaining hatchet in hand. It was somewhat impressive, Toby noted, he could even stand losing that much blood at once. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be standing much longer, as Toby barrelled at him full speed, sending the two of them sprawling into the ground, leaves flying up in a shower as they thudded down.
Toby came to his senses first, raising himself up, hatchet behind his head, grinning like the maniac that he was.Ā Thud. Crack.Ā The sweet sound of ribs crunching under his hatchet. He looked down, watching the way the blood squirted and pooled on the still-screaming mans chest. Again.Ā Thwack. Crack.Ā More blood, more screams. He was vaguely aware of it splashing his face as he licked his lips, acknowledging the familiar copper tang against his tongue.
In a sudden show of theatrics he dropped the axe to his side, bending down over the rib-cage and tearing the ribcage apart, the muscle and sinew nothing compared to his advanced strength. With a tear they were out of the way, strew either side of the now motionless corpse of the man. He plunged his hand into his chest, searching around in the guts, which were slippery with blood, before coming across what he wanted. The heart.
With a swift flick of his wrist he plucked the heart out of the mans chest, watching as it beat in his tight grip. He held it up, briefly considering gifting it to you. He could buy you some flowers and turn up at your door, blood-stained from head to toe, and present them to you.
"I killed him because I love you!" He'd say, and you'd swoon and fall into his arms and kiss him as he carried you back.
As oblivious as he was, he wasn't so stupid as to actually think your reaction would be so eager, casting the thought away. He snorted, throwing the heart so it hit the back of Tim, who was standing over the womanās body, her neck neatly broken.
He spun around "Don't do that shit, Toby!"
Toby just giggled, righting himself and kicking the head of the body, watching it loll. As he stood up, he noticed something sticking out of his torso. Was that..? He pulled it out, and sure enough, there was the knife the guy had. Huh, he actually landed a hit. Kudos to him. The knife was discarded on the ground.
Hoodie cleared his throat, beckoning them to follow him back to the mansion, and so they did, in mostly silence. Tim neglected to point out Toby's incessant phone checking this time, thankfully.
He made his way back to the mansion, avoiding most of it's residents other than a quick scratch of Smile Dog. Locking the door to his room, stripping down and dumping his axes on his bed along with his phone, glancing down at where the knife had wounded him. Sure enough, it was already starting to scab up. One benefit of being a proxy was it was really,Ā reallyĀ hard to get hurt.
He slipped into the shower, not bothering to change the temperature on the water. He couldn't feel it after all, why bother?
By the time he'd gotten out, less than 10 minutes later, he chucked a towel round himself, not bothering to comb his mop of hair. He'd gotten all the blood out of it, that was good enough.
He leant over, dripping water on his bedsheets and dirty clothes, to check the phone. He beamed, looking down at the notification on the home screen, Letting out a content kind of sigh. He swept the bloody clothes and axes off the bed, dropping the towel on the floor and crawling in, not bothering to get dressed. He was too excited to talk to you now, what did that matter?
'Hey :)' You'd said, followed by 'Sorry the response was late, was still at work'
He briefly debated his response, before settling with a simple 'It's fine :)'
'How are you?'
'I'm good' he paused, he didn't want to seem too dry. 'Just been working out.' Well.. It was just a little lie, really. All that running and killing counted as exercise, surely.
He talked to you for almost a whole hour, kicking his legs like a schoolgirl every time you'd responded to him. He'd asked about your favourite book series, grinning as wide as he could when you infodumped to him. You felt close enough to share this with him! He was over the moon.
Eventually it came to an end as all good things do and you said goodnight, telling him you had work the next morning. And you needed to rest. He knew. It was cute you wanted to tell him though, like you cared, wanted to make sure he didn't feel like he was being ignored. You were so considerate; his lover was so cute.
He turned out the lights, laying on his side with the phone, scrolling through the pictures and videos he had of you. It had become a nightly routine whenever he was in the mansion, to help you feel closer to him.
He came across a photo he had recently taken - you in that matching black set he'd found when he first broke into your apartment. You were trying it on in the mirror, and holy shit, youĀ looked perfect. The most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. Even now, in a slightly grainy image taken through the drawer of a cupboard, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Sure enough, he felt a familiar feeling in his lower stomach, looking down. He could spare a few minutes before he went to bed.Ā Ā
Tim wright how I love youā¦
sorry this took a million billion years
Tim Wright x AFAB reader NSFW alphabet!
A = Aftercare
In my humble option Tim is a master at aftercare!! Very gentle and careful, will pick you up in his arms and take a shower with you or order you food, whichever you prefer. If heās been a little rough heāll apologise and kiss any bruises better.
also a cuddlebug :) if youāre sleepy I think after heās cleaned up heāll totally pull you close and rest his head on your chest and kiss you. Heās the best person to snuggle with I swear to god, who wouldnāt want a chubby hairy man to cuddle to sleep.
B = Body part (his favourite body part)
ass man!!!! Sorry but Tim Wright is such an ass man to me. Will flip you over. will have you sit on his face.
sit on his lap and his eyes will pop out and turn into love hearts like those cartoon characters, bro probably says awooga. I joke but if you do actually sit on his lap heād be so awkward and pop a boner like. Immediately. Yeah, ass.
C = Cum
I imagine heās a cream pie man to be honest. It does something to him to have your cum leaking out of him like that, I think it also appeals to his breeding kink which we will discuss in detail later.
donāt get me wrong, heās *not* opposed to cumming on you, and loves to see you covered in it, I just think seeing it leaking out of you (especially your pussy and ass, but also your mouth) does something to him he canāt explain.
D = Dirty secret
hm.. I was wracking my brains on this one. I think heād largely be pretty open with you on his desires. Iād imagine probably that he wouldnāt mind doing something a littleā¦ risky.
I honestly can imagine him being the type of mf to let you give him a handy while he drives.
E = Experience
I think he has some experience in a few things. Things getting freaky in the psych ward fr š„š„
okay okay jokes aside, I honestly think heās a virgin? Heās definitely made out with a few people before, and maybe even had a relationship with someone, but I donāt think heās really gone too far with it. I like to think heād wait for someone he felt he could really trust and who understood him before doing that. And his person is you :)
F = favourite position
ass up! Honestly anything where he gets a good view of you, but Iād say his favourites would probably be you riding him cowgirl style or doggy (so, ass up).
just imagine him pressing your head down, grabbing your hair and fucking you hard from behind, gruntingā¦
G = Goofy (whether or not they're serious during sex)
I honestly think it depends on his mood!! Most days I donāt think heād be especially silly, but I imagine if it got awkward or if heās make a mistake heād laugh it off with you, and I can definitely imagine him biting somewhere ticklish to tickle you, or kissing down your stomach to make you laugh.
now if itās stressed angry sex? Bro is not being goofy, just pounding into you, hair messy, sweat running down his face. Youāre how he takes it off after all.
H = Hair
body hair!! Probably has arm hair, leg hair, stomach hair, the works. I imagine he has a happy trail too (Iām such a sucker for happy trails).
I do think heād keep his pubic hair pretty trimmed since itās hygienic and he wouldnāt want you to be disgusted by it or anything. Would clean shave if you specifically asked, but prefers to just keep it trimmed.
I = Intimacy
like i said, total cuddlebug!!!! When you're not having sex he's cuddling you and giving you soft kisses, even just holding your hand. I think when he's not stressed he's very gently and intimate with the sex too, gently kisses up and down your body, gentle bites, muttering that you're pretty and perfect and that he's so lucky to have you, praise in between kisses (and thrusts).
J = Jerking off
Honestly i don't think Tim would Jerk off too much. That's not to say he isn't horny a lot, he just.. tries to keep it in. Especially with the psych ward he wouldn't have had much privacy as a teen so he'd always be pretty paranoid about getting caught, so he wouldn't do it as often.
that being said, he probably increases it once he starts dating you, probably imaging you while he's at it. Bro probably wouldn't mind getting caught by you of all people....
K = Kink(s)
Right! here it is folks, what you've all been waiting for...
face sitting. Theres something about it honestly. I imagine Tim as more of a soft top, but you sitting on his face? he can't get enough of it, will eat you out until you're screaming with you riding his face and enjoy every second, holding your thighs so tight it leaves fingerprint bruises. Probably have to safeword to get him to stop this man EATS. Will beg for you to break his neck sitting on it.
Similar to the above, also loves 69'ing. He gets your pretty ass on his face and he gets your lips around his cock? It's a win/win situation.
Sort of said it already, but just.. thighs and ass. Sit on his lap instead of his face? fine by him! will pop a boner and probably fuck you right there and then if you want him to. Any clothes that show that sort of area, anything tight, you'll have him tugging you into the bathroom by a hand.
Angry sex. If he's stressed out or mad (this happens a lot) honestly nothing helps him cool down more than banging your brains out and cuddling down with you afterwards. Of course if you aren't up for it, he won't, but..
To contrast, he also loves softer, lazy loving sex. Like early morning just woke up sex. Gentle kisses, running his hands up and down your body, fucking on your sides in bed, just.. comfortable stuff.
L = Location
He likes being in bed or on the sofa the most, somewhere private and comfortable the two of you can get it on without accidentally hurting yourselves (or getting caught).
That being said desperate times call for desperate measures, and if he's really horny (or, really stressed) he will plow you in a bathroom or in the back of his car. Sorry, i don't make the rules (i do!).
M = Motivation (what turns him on)
Honestly i'm sure a lot does but specifically i can imagine him getting super worked up when you dress up for him. ESPECIALLY things that show off your ass or chest. If you wear a pretty skirt or dress for him he would have to stop himself from lifting your skirt up and just shoving his face in.
N = No (boundaries)
Cheating stuff, like NTR. whether it's you or him cheating, he still feels really... icky about it. He'd feel guilty if he fucked someone else (and honestly probably wouldn't in the first place, he really only feels that comfortable with you) and he'd get pretty upset if you fucked someone else, even if you'd discussed it before.
O = Oral
Likes receiving and WILL fuck your throat and praise you through it with his hands in your hair, but remember what i said? this man EATS. i mean breakfast lunch and dinner bro will eat you out until you safeword.
I'm talking leaving fingerbrint bruises on your ass from gripping so hard and hickeys on your thighs from biting up them. I imagine he's pretty good at it too, and especially loves it when you moan out his name or grab his hair. after all, what's better than a little encouragement.
P = Pace
depends on how he's feeling!!
Normally i already said this but he looves slow, sweet gentle sex that lasts an hour or more, just practically worshipping you and your body. Sweet kisses all up and down your stomach, thighs, legs, tits, everywhere until you're both giggling and kissing each other and he's finally in you or eating you out.
Now if he's stressed? ohh boy... bro will pound you into the mattress. the neighbours will know his name and your hips will probably have fingerprint bruises from when he's grabbed you so hard. Prepare to be sore (and have trouble walking).
Q = Quickies
I mean... he'll take a quicky if you've gotten him all worked up at a party and he wants to get it out, but he wants time to be able to properly enjoy your body you know? That being said, he isn't opposed to one.
R = Risk
He's okay with some risk!! in fact, he's even into it to a degree.
remember that car thing i mentioned? yeah, he'd go crazy for something like that. Same sort of thing with giving him a handy in a movie theatre or something. would he suggest it himself? hell no. would he agree without hesitation if you asked? hell yes.
S = Stamina
Honestly i feel like he has pretty high stamina, especially with how he spends a lot of it doing foreplay and eating you out, so the sex probably feels longer than the actual penetration part is.
And if he's tired he can always eat you out until he's ready and rearing to go again. Get's him hard every time without fail.
T = Toys
I think he isn't crazy on toys as he prefers being able to feel you himself and have the experience of his skin on yours and both of you together, getting all sweaty, but he won't say no if you suggest some? he might feel a little inadequate so i'd imagine you'd have to really reassure him that that wasn't what was going on.
Probably wouldn't mind if you had a vibrator for when he wasn't there, though.
U = Unfair (teasing)
When he's not stressed, i think he'd try teasing you just a little, if only because he finds your reactions super cute.
Might just stop eating you out right before you orgasm and make you ask nicely just to hear you beg. He'd probably give in and give you the best orgasm of your life after, though. Maybe even two or three.
V = Volume/Vocal
I imagine he's not too vocal, but you will be able to tell if he's enjoying it.I imagine he grunts and groans like no tomorrow, and if he hits just the right angle or you hit just the right part of his cock with your tongue? he will whimper your name out and it will be the hottest thing you've ever heard i promise you that.
W = Wild Card (misc)
His prominant southern accent makes for some fun times. I imagine he calls you names like "doll" or "darlin'", something like that.
"darlin, you wore that just for me? How 'bout you come over here and i'll show you what i think of it~" (he eats you out)
X = X-Ray
Grah!!! chubby tim wright supremacy!!!
My dad bod king. I imagine under it he's actually pretty strong as troy confirmed that worked in construction while in collage, but he's still my chubby king. Just one who could pick you up and throw you onto the bed.
Member wise? pretty average - large, though he isn't really sure what constitutes large. I'd say around 6.5-7 inches? perfect size if you ask me.
Y = Yearning (libido)
Not always horny, especially if you're not around, but i imagine when you're around it's more likely that he's horny than not, if you catch my drift. Plus, it's very very easy to make him horny if you're in the mood and he isn't!
Z = Zzz
I already said this but he loves to cuddle and fall asleep with you after sex :) Lay your head on his chest and snuggle him back and he's in a veritable heaven.
okay I'm back again because I'm such a sucker for emo hair Alex, do you have any head canons for being highschool sweethearts with pre MH Alex?
why yes i can!!
your other request is on the way!!! I'm just running a little low on motivation sighs...
High school sweethearts with Scenemo alex :)) gn reader
total and utter theatre kid i am so sorry
look me dead in the eyes and tell me alexander kralie isn't the type to be way too enthusiastic with his background choir role in your schools shitty production of hamilton.
Anyways
Go to his theatre recitals!! practice his lines with him!! He loves you and he loves theatre, what's better than his two true loves combined?
Will probably start crying (of happiness) if he sees you clapping for him in the crowd
You'd be his first kiss teehee
So inexperienced he'd probably turn bright red if you held his hands in the hallway
Get ready for a ton of movie dates with him!!! If he takes you to the cinema/movie theatre he'll insist on paying, but he prefers movie dates at home so he can infodump about the cinematic choices in the movie or whatever the shit.
will beg and plead for you to let him dye your hair or do your eyeliner or
If you say yes to eyeliner he'll sit on your lap (or let you sit on his) and concentrate so hard. Will yell at you to stay still or it'll get smudged. will not shut up until you kiss him. (your eyeliner will get smudged).
And if you let him dye your hair or get you an outfit he will match with you!! He'll match his little scene raccoon hair extensions to the colour yours is dyed, and he'll make sure your outfits look good together.
Passes silly notes to you in class <3
probably compares you to actors he likes from his shitty old movies. you don't know who he means, but it's cute anyway!
"Your hair is prettier than Elizabeth Taylors" "Uh,, thanks?"
You share headphones (you get one, he get's one) and blast emo music 'till your ears go deaf.
Sometimes he has days when he gets really stressed and angry and overwhelmed at everything
so the two of you will skip class and hang out in an abandoned janitors closet till classes are over
he appreciates it more than his pride will ever let him say
