Kinktober has been upon us for a while, so I've been writing these babies up in my free time hehe
I'll def post some more for funsies in other fandoms, but here are these!
TW: It's btd and tpof so what is there not... sexual content, dub/noncon mentions, too many kinks to list fr
If you ain't a fan or aren't 18+ MOVE ALONG
Ren (btd2) :3
Primal play, obvi
Chases you around the house, tries to corner you in the basement, because of all the “fun toys” down there (only a few are fun for you lol)
He’s gonna bite, scratch, make you bleed, and cuddle you later, admiring any marks he left
He’s a verse, so it really depends on whether you’re behaving and his mood
Subby him is very cute
Tug on his ears, tail, he doesn’t even try to hide how much he enjoys being your “pet”
I’d like to think he makes lil fox noises when he’s overstimulated; little yips which he toooootally won’t find embarrassing until later
Yes, he has a knot
Yes, you’re getting that every time
Yes, I think he’s got the prettiest dick of all of Gatobob’s characters– WHAT ABOUT IT
Bro WILL put you in a maid's dress
He’ll also wear one for you if you ask ;3
He’s the sweetest and gives the best aftercare, always murmuring praises and apologies, even if injuries are “for your own good.”
Loves when you call him baby boy
Gets pouty if you call him puppy
"I'm a fox! >:3" which is true lol
Ride him until he cums inside a few times, though, and he won't care WHAT you call him
He's a big fan of overstimulation, mostly on him
Especially if you're "punishing him," he wants you to use his dick until he's shooting blanks
His dick gets really flushed when he's excited; towards the tip, this rosy red, glistening with thick precum
Fav position is mating press, it gets him going like nothing else
He will fold you for hours, just hitting your sweet spot over and over until he's "bred" you enough
Lawrence
I don’t see sex with Lawrence being super often, once a week TOPS for this man
I wouldn’t say ace spectrum, just low sex drive vibes
But when he gets down, he’s a FREAK
I think a verse that leans towards dominant, but likes to be on top
Def has a thing for choking; takes it too far half the time
He “likes when you stop breathing”....okay, weirdoooo
Gets a little mean when he’s about to cum, but then whimpers like a bitch :D
“Shit— fuckin…stay still…st–stay still! *puts his hands around your throat, a scowl painted across his face, before leaning down to moan into the pillow next to your head*”
Sometimes he will want you to roleplay as a corpse, which, if you’re down for that yay, if not I don’t think he’d push it too much
He is into somnophilia, though, specifically with you being the one sleeping/pretending
Prefers receiving head to giving; he finds giving anxiety-inducing lol
He's kinda bad at it anyway (both sucking dick and eating cunt), fucking loser...God, I love him for it...
He has cried exactly once during sex...you still don't know why, but he gets mad if you bring it up
Seldom lets you shower with him, scary ass hoe, but if you get in there, he is super shy
You can get away with doing a little reach-around action and jerk him off from behind
His tall ass starts shaking when you pull that
Honestly, in any position where he doesn't make eye contact, he gets a lot more expressive
Strade
Sex all the time, whether you want it or not, you’re lucky he even kept you
Tops almost always
Obviously a sadist, hardcore
You have to beg him not to fuck your wounds half the time
If you shower, you honestly have to prep to wash up twice cuz he’s gonna fuck you against the wall
At least he can’t dunk your head under water
Threesomes with ren all the time mwahaha
Softer in the morning sex, so best to try and drain him then
He’ll often let you ride him at times like those, or he’ll spoon you and fuck you from behind
Likes to watch you and Ren fuck, plain and simple
I think he’s a huge fan of giving and receiving head
To get him in a mood? Suck him off nice and slow, but gag a ton and breathe as little as possible
If he’s in a good mood? He’ll eat/suck the FUCK out of you. Over and over until you’re shaking, and even then, he might end up fucking you roughly
But sometimes he just gives head and admires your reactions
If ur afab...PERIOD AH PERIOD UH (aka period sex, it turns him on so much it's gross)
Probably gonna piss on you at some point, better than in u tho
Derek
Going off of the “Derek took you home” ending mwahaha
You’re getting fucked EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
You’re always gonna be subbing even if he yanks your ass on top and makes you ride him
Raw. Next question
Aka, if you’re afab, he gave you an IUD with that tracker.
“Like I’ll let some useless whore ruin my life with a kid!”
He almost always wants you begging, even if you’re enjoying it, you'd better act like you’re in pain or he’s gonna make it hurt
Sadistic af, you’re almost always bleeding
An upside is he does like to watch you cum, so you’ll finish most of the time
Seeing you lose it gives him an ego boost, like even if you hate him, he’s still making you cum, so boom double fun
Also, he can be really soft from time to time when he’s tired from work
Exhaustion from his dad can either lead to the beating of your life, or Derek's version of love…kinda
When he’s tired and feeling attached to you, he’ll just make you blow him and then cuddle him and order alcohol for you both
He says he loves you a lot when he's wasted, and might even cry to you about how much he needs you while fucking you terribly
He'll beat you if you bring it up, tho, so don't say nothin
Probably has a thing for public sex, too
He'll take you to parties, the casino, anywhere really, and fuck you right in front of everyone
Mason
Two words. Size. Difference.
Assuming you’re not the same size as him at least erm sorry for those over 6’5
He’s got a thing for chasing you down and fucking you in the woods, as we’ve seen
Sometimes he’ll switch it up and haul you back to the cabin to fuck the shit out of you; man is proud with the “meat” he brought back
Speaking of meat…HHEHEHEHEHE
He’s average length wise but THICK as fuck
You stretch painfully every time he fucks you because he almost always rushes into it
More “animalistic” if he just puts it in rather than prepping you, he says
Rips clothes like it is nobody's business
Secretly gets off on how his clothes swamp you and make you smell like him
Aftercare is actually pretty good here ("Ooooo this is noiceeee! Gurllllll")
Always gives you hearty food and water after, tea if it's cold outside
The morning after he cooks something especially reguvinating so you have your strength for more hunts ;) and cuz he liiiiikes you hehe
Cockwarms almost always after cumming in you
He has walked back to the cabin, carrying you with his dick inside you, because he didn't wanna pull out
You're still getting hunted in the winter btw, that will not end unfortunately
He will always give you a nice warm bath and cuddles after, though, so you don't get frostbite
He's a strong ass man, so he fucks you standing often
Either that or from behind, he's not the biggest fan of missionary but if you beg enough he'll do it
Ceilia
MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY
Can y’all tell she’s one of my favs…hehe
She is always dominant, even if you’re on top you are in absolutely NO control
Especially if you’re a man/masc presenting, she’s gonna love making you her bitch (WE LOVE OUR CANONICAL MISANGRIST)
Don’t worry, girlies! She will still gonna crush you <3
She’ll step on you in the fiercest pair of stilettos and then coo that you’re her “pretty little pet”
Let’s be honest she’s gonna make you paint her toenails (the color of your eyes if she’s feeling sappy), and after it dries she’ll have you massage and suck each one
Not full-on foot fetish, she just likes feeling above you
If you’re good she’ll let you suck her tits
If you’re bad you aint touchin her for a WEEK
Unless it’s to eat her out but even then maybe not
You're getting the strap no matter your gender
The one she uses will usually be a pristine, clear, 6 inch dildo, but she has MANY others
Same with toys; vibrators, wands/rabbits, butt plugs, etc
Back to my first point, she'll make you call her mommy
Or ma'am, but mostly mommy
If you have a dick, expect CBT
Less likely to have your puss tormented if you have one, but don't push it
Domestic sex is not frequent, but if you're in that ending where you run away together, sometimes, if she wakes up after a good night's rest, coffee and breakfast made, it'll be nice, slow, and loving
Edit : I can’t believe I forgot to add my ending gift but here we go ITS LITTLE RENNNN
Now that YKMET is out, I've been beating myself up over the fact I dont have 15 bucks for a game at the moment, but hell, I can still write a drabble! Horny bitches never give up!
So like, a Beastkin reader getting their tail yanked mid-fuck cause I'm freaky like that
Strade
Strade does it cause its fun and it hurts you, he relishes in the sharp yip you let out as he grabs the base with enough effort to bruise and yanks you back against him when you try to crawl away from him. He uses it like a lever to force you back against his rough thrusts. Honestly though, he appreciates the effort you take to try and crawl away, its cute! For him, at least. If you want him to stop though (or loosen his grip) just stop trying to crawl away, the least you could do is TRY to enjoy it, even if his knife is hilt deep in your bicep. (Don't worry, once hes done he'll stitch you right back up, he's not THAT cruel (... he is))
Ren
Ren would only do it if hes worked up, as he knows what its like, and knows its not pleasant, but god he just can't help himself! This happens especially when hes in rut (or heat, whatever you call it), one hand is holding the base of your tail and using it to grind you back against every thrust and the other is moving between groping at your chest and rubbing at your crotch. He won't stop till you're nice n knotted and leaking his cum, so you're gonna be there a while, good luck soldier.
Lawrence
Lawrence doesn't have that high of a libido, naturally, and the only scenario I can see him tugging on your tail would be if hes frustrated. If you keep squirming and trying to wriggle away he gives it a small yank as a warning for you to go still, limp like he likes it, if you KEEP squirming however, prepare for his hands to wrap around your throat and choke you out till you pass out.
FINALLY. I'm so sorry it took so long. All the chaos and junk really got the better of me. I hope y'all like this, I really tried. I can't wait to write more. Strade's Favorite Bartender will be next! 💚 NSFW MDNI
You’d always had a certain fondness for Lawrence you supposed. He was always the quiet guy at work, hesitant to ever really speak or have attention be directed his way.
And it wasn’t like you’d bulldozed into his life either.
It had started small, really. He was stronger than he looked and often you both shared shifts. You’d asked him a few times if he could help you move some things, speed up the task and he’d always given a little nod and followed you to do so.
You wanted to bridge that gap, you bought some tea you kept in your locker, offering it to Lawrence on breaks. At first he just stared at you for a long moment before slowly giving a nod of his head, crystalline eyes directed anywhere but you. And then grabbing the sandwiches or other items from the corner Mart you saw him buy from time to time. You simply wanted Lawrence to feel appreciated in the warehouse. That you were grateful he helped you.
And it turned into routine after a little while.
Sharing breaks, eating together in the silence that was the wee hours of morning before the sun broke. Settled in the stale smelling break room or outside on the bench in the parking lot, side by side. You usually did most of the talking but from time to time, it was exciting to hear Lawrence talk. When he'd mention his plants, the most recent time he went on a trek through the park or on a hike, better was when he’d actually give you his opinion. Even if it was differing. If it weren’t for the occasional stutter or stammer, you’d reckon to say he’d have a rich voice. Dulcet to you, if you dare say so.
You gave him your number, just in case you switched shifts at work or something came up of course! Though that didn’t stop you from sending the occasional message asking how he was doing, or if you shared a shift a “have a good night! Oops, I mean morning!” sort of text. You wanted to endear yourself to Lawrence.
And you had.
You wormed your way under his skin and into his heart like vines of twisting ivy, you made it hard for Lawrence to breathe around you sometimes. The saccharine scent about you that was so alien, so absolutely opposite of damp rot and soil he’d become accustomed to. You were the fragrant bulbs of flowers he tried to nurture and fight the impulse to cut. You were soft, you were succulent in a way Lawrence didn’t understand like the occasional ones he had spotted around his apartment. Visions of you swam in his head at night in his bed, in the fog of his shower. Emboldened by the haze of burnt hash of a blunt that was discarded on the ashtray nearby. Lawrence wondered how you would feel…from the inside. How different you would feel from his hand. Water or lotion made do in a pinch when he’d fist himself to completion, more often than not he would grow frustrated after the clarity hit him.
“huff…huff…nngh…f-fuck…(Name)...” Water cascades down Lawrence’s pale body, head bowed with one hand braced against the cool tile wile the other hand stroked his weeping cock. You brushed up against him on more than one occasion today, he felt the soft warmth of your skin through your clothes, caught a peek of skin when you’d reach up high, Lawrence swore…goddamn it, he could hear the blood in your veins. Your hand brushed against his when you handed him a paper cup of some herbal tea you’d been so proud to prattle about hoping he’d like it. And he’d die before telling you that it was actually too sweet for his taste. But maybe that was you and your influence on the moment. Too sweet. His breathing grew ragged as his glacier eyes screwed shut, trying a slight twist of his wrist as Lawrence fisted his cock; reliving the encounters behind his eyelids.
The warm flush of your cheeks, he wondered how much blood could reach the apples of them…the plush look of your lips that always curled into a little grin, what might they look like swollen from his own pressed to them or his teeth sinking into them? Would your heart hammer in your chest? Or would it be slow and calm? Would you let him touch you? Actually touch you? To crawl inside of you and feel your warmth from the inside, to break your ribs and truly be in your embrace until you were cold and still like he often felt. A grunt passed Lawrence’s lips as he grappled with the thoughts– did he want that? No…no, he didn’t think he did. Lawrence wanted to savor you if he was ever presented the opportunity. You’d feel different. You were different. His mind rewound and pulled forward like a video on a loop, searching for just the thing to focus on. That breathless face you made after exerting yourself, the way your breathing drew a little rough and you tried to chuckle through, the way your (color) eyes would look up at him so gratefully in a way only you ever looked at him.
“Hhngh…haah…(N-Name)...” Lawrence choked your name from his throat as a shudder ripped down his spine, hips jerking erratically in a rhythm that grew sloppy before pearly, viscous cum splurted forward, coating his hand and dropping into the water to disappear down the drain. The smell of stale, foggy air and eucalyptus as the evidence of his mild perversion disappeared from sight. Maybe that’s why it was always easier in the shower. His panting eventually subsided into just one heavy sigh, the heaviness left him and again the frustration followed.
It wasn’t the same.
It wasn’t you.
Maybe Lawrence was getting greedy. Not that he could ever act on it. It always made him seize up worse when you were just looking at him with those eyes of yours. So patient for whatever he may say or do. It was maddening that he let it get this far. That you somehow had sunk so deeply into him instead that keeping you was now a regular rotation in his fantasy. That fire fed and fanned by content he consumed on the internet. But there was always just a slight pause on maybe trying such on you. Maybe. Exhaling through his nose, Lawrence turns off the water and steps out of the shower. His brow is deep set in thought as he lazily towels off his pallid skin and blonde hair that falls over his shoulders limply still damp.
Dressing for bed, Lawrence dares to glance at his phone- he never gets notifications. Not really. Just from you. And today must be one of those nights that the stars just align, one message from you.
(Name): “Hey!! I have some news tomorrow!”
Lawrence’s brows furrow and lips press in a thin line, he’s not sure how to reply. If he should. But he wants to.
Lawrence: Okay.
Like most or any social interaction- not his best work. Not that you cared. It never stopped you at all or caught you off. Most might find him brusque and socially awkward, which wasn’t untrue. Lawrence doesn’t linger on the thoughts of what it could possibly be, it could be anything with you; infinitely more optimistic than himself. You found the silver linings in most things, took joy in the small victories or whathaveyou. Something he would possibly find overwhelming or even annoying but you seemed to broach him a way just so that it never…felt that way. Lawrence didn’t want to keep you at an arms length like he had the first handful of shifts where he’d nearly tried to avoid you. And now he craved you. You were sunlight, warm and necessary. You were nourishment Lawrence didn’t believe he needed. He was starved in ways that didn’t make sense.
Tugging on old, worn sweatpants, Lawrence crawls into his bed and tries to settle in and stares at the ceiling for a while before his breathing lulls into sleep.
The next day, the next shift. Stars litter the sky and the moon hangs along them. The streets are mostly dead, the silent stillness of the parking lot of the warehouse is usually comforting but there’s an odd looming sense regarding your news and Lawrence doesn’t know why. Why his stomach turns and twists so strangely when he sees you eagerly wave him over as he pushes the heavy door open after a swipe from his employee badge.
“Hey, Law!” you greet, warmly as ever- you were probably the only one who forced themself to adapt to the lifestyle of working this shift and still function. Or function better than most of the other workers here. Granted it made sense to Lawrence, it was what he preferred though it never showed.
Lawrence gives a low hum of acknowledgement you had grown accustomed to as you met him halfway to walk to the lockers together. “You…mentioned you had news…?” After spinning the dial on his lock, those piercing baby blues turned to you, seeming to perk up at his voice addressing you.
You bite your lip in that way that makes him wish he could be one of your teeth. To feel the plush skin under pressure. Lawrence blinks before turning his focus back to your eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, I finally got a grown up job, heh…” You run a hand through your (length) (color) (type) hair, your grin faltering to something almost akin to nervousness or anxiety. Because all Lawrence can do is stare at you with a blank, unreadable expression. The silence hangs over heavy as you scuff your shoe on the floor.
“... you're quitting…?” It feels like he's choking it out but if he did, you didn't seem to notice. And he's grateful for it.
“Well, yeah, I mean…I gave my two weeks. It's just…I can't work here forever. It doesn't pay enough and I'm not exactly cut out for it long term.” You admit with a little bob of your head, glancing around the warehouse stacked with pallets and equipment. And it was true if Lawrence was being honest, you weren't as strong to continue this sort of labor for long without it doing something to your musculature or God forbid your beautiful bones. It was bad enough when you bruised.
“...oh.” There's an odd sort of thrum in his chest he can't discern, a tension that settles tight in too many places for his liking. Your sharp eyes seem to snap to him at the monosyllabic reply and soften. That look. Not of pity, just soft.
“But we can still text! Or meet up on off days! I'd like to check out that trail sometime, if you'd be down?” You're quick, so quick, to offer him the modicum of comfort. That you somehow, some way, want to be around him even when no longer coworkers. You were so odd. But it wasn't unwelcome. “But uh…I was gonna throw a little party. At my place with people from our shift. If you wanted to come.”
Lawrence raises a brow at that, it isn't a “no” (it would be for anyone else)but it's more of that confusion. He didn't do parties. He didn't do other people. Crowded spaces. Not without some sort of necessity or incentive tied to it. His pause seems to make you fidget. “I know it's not your thing, so don't feel you have to or anything. But it would really nice to have you there.” You uplilt your word with that hopeful tone.
He shifts on his feet, his eyes unable to hold your gaze. Honestly? He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. Lawrence shifts on his feet a little as if still chewing all of the information over. He didn't like any of it. Most of all your leaving. Your absence would be felt so deeply. Lawrence felt like had something, had someone, even on the humdrum shifts you shared. Be it normalcy, warmth, Lawrence didn't know. But he wasn't about to let it go. Let you go. He couldnt. You might be vines constricting around him, but Lawrence could be all the thistles, barbs, and thorns in the world of it kept you ensnared to him.
Sometimes the stars just aligned like that.
“But, like I said- I know it's not…”
“I'll come.”
You blink up at Lawrence, surprise stark on your face for just a moment at his definitive tone. It lingers before your lips curl into a toothy grin making his heart thud against his ribs. “Yeah? That's great. Really great.” You pull out your phone and tap on it few times before a buzzing comes from his pocket. “That's my address, it starts at seven but y'know…it's a party so show up whenever.” You shrug casually.
Lawrence glances to the side, racking his brain for a moment, thinking of what next, of what to do when he gets there- nevermind that it's days away. “Alright! Well, let's go kick this shift in the teeth!” You chime, clapping your hands together and wandering off to whatever task you were assigned and Lawrence slowly trailing after you.
×××
Relationships were complicated. People were complicated. Well…living people were complicated anyway. For the briefest moment Lawrence thinks back to his family, people that meant little to him in the grand scheme of things but whether he liked it or not was part of his building blocks. At least a little.Which brought a vague memory of a muffled voice from childhood, “We can’t go to a dinner party empty handed.” A few hours before Lawrence decided he would make his appearance, he stopped at the liquor store on the corner to bring a bottle of…fuck. What did you even like?? All you drank when you were together was whatever was at the vending machines, the convenience store, or tea. Lawrence stood near the door of the shop- bottles lined all over the shelves and walls. Advertisements of several brand plastered all over in bright colors or neons.
Augh.
Eventually Lawrence meanders over to the wine section, staring at the bottles blankly, drifting from label to label. White wine? Red wine? If you would even drink it. Dry? Semi? Sweet? It was alcohol for fuck’s sake, why did it have to be so complicated. With a shake of his head, frustration beginning to simmer in the pit of his stomach, Lawrence swipes a bottle of sweet red with a delicate looking label adorned in little gilded flowers. Maybe even if you didn’t like it, you would think it’s pretty. Or maybe you’d think he was weird, like most other people– no…no, that wasn’t true. It was you. None of his antisocial tendencies seemed to deter you or bother you, opposite; you’d been nothing but accommodating and patient with Lawrence.
Keeping his head down, Lawrence shoves a few bills at the unbothered clerk who bothers to spare him a second glance before he begins the trek to where your apartment is supposed to be. Gingerly stepping through the building, Lawrence lingers in the hallway probably a beat longer than necessary before rapping his knuckles against the door. His palms are sweaty as he cradles the bottle of wine and waits…and waits…he can hear the thrum of bass through the door, music playing paired with a few voices…by the sound of it, not to many people (thankfully) or so he hoped. Just as he debated leaving and tossing away any hopeful ideations, the door is abruptly pulled open to reveal you. In more casual clothes. A warm flush blooms beautifully over your cheeks that has his breath hitch ever so slightly.
“Law! Oh man, I was beginning to worry you weren’t gonna show up!” You lilt, posture so much more relaxed and…oh. Lawrence spies the red plastic cup in your hand, of course. It was a party. People drank. He brought a bottle that he’d almost forgotten about seeing you the way you were. The drunk blush on your cheeks looked ever so enticing. “C’mon, c’mon in!” You usher him in warmly and he can take in your apartment. Posters decorate the walls, well loved furniture, a small cozy kitchen…that same sweetened perfume that was so uniquely you seemed to seep into the very walls. Lawrence shuffles inside, keeping his eyes down, only sparing glances to the other coworkers mingling around your place. Some chatting, some playing video games you had set up on your television, others bobbing a little to the music.
Lawrence’s hands tighten around the bottle before looking up to you and awkwardly thrusting it towards you. “I…I didn’t know what to bring…If I should bring anything.” He admits, biting the inside of his cheek as you blink and accept it, looking it over.
“Huh? That’s real sweet of you, thanks Law! Wine, huh? Fancy. I’ve never really tried it.” You inspect it, but keep it carefully tucked in the crook of your arm, though before Lawrence can feel embarrassed about his actions you give a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to come over again and maybe try it with me, huh? Can’t drink alone.” You chime warmly before disappearing only briefly to tuck it safely in the kitchen so nobody thinks to open it. Something for just the two of you…it ignites a spark of hope that he allows himself to buoy on for comfort now that he’s vastly out of his element. You poke your head out of the kitchen, “You want something to drink? I can mix you something or uh…I’ve got water, soda, juice…” Lawrence takes the opportunity to follow you and the variety of beverages and snacks.
Opting for water, Lawrence takes up post along one of your walls, simply watching you and everyone else. Time ticks on as his hands worry the label of the water bottle to shreds. The music feels too loud, he can feel the bass in his bones. Nobody but you really wants to talk to him, he’s spared a nod of acknowledgement or a brief greeting but nothing more- if anything people seem surprised to see him here at all. Lawrence swallows thickly and glances to the clock and moves to stand up and you seemingly appear out of nowhere. Your eyes seem to trace over his features, lingering on his face for a beat before you do that wonderful thing you do. Soften up. Relax. “Hey...I know this isn’t really your scene. It can probably be a lot huh? Here…my room is quieter, you can chill there for a bit maybe? Kinda decompress? I really…hah…I really don’t want you to go yet…if that’s okay?” The alcohol has you emboldened, your lips a little looser, your thoughts more apt to slip between them.
And a strange warmth is surging through his veins, he feels it in his own cheeks, feels his fingers twitch slightly before Lawrence finds himself nodding. Your hand slips in his smoothly, gently- and he’s tempted to flinch but instead he squeezes, carefully. True to your words, your room is notably quieter than the living room, the length of hallway giving a decent berth. You settle on your bed with a dramatic sigh and Lawrence almost shyly sits beside you, hands in his lap. “...I’m glad you came.” You admit as you fall onto your back on your duvet and tilt your head to look up at him. “Is it greedy I wanted to keep you a little longer? Just to myself?”
It’s not greedy.
You’re not greedy.
You’re perfect.
Lawrence swallows thickly, your words reverberating in his skull, echoing his same thoughts. You wanted what he wanted. He could only hope anyway but you said what he was thinking aloud. You made it real. You were real. “N-No..No I don’t think that about you.” Lawrence manages to mutter out and it makes that smile grow wider on your lips. Your hand reaches for his again, delicately, as your fingers trace his knuckles.
“We could hangout more often, y’know. I meant it when I said I still wanted to see you even after I’m outta there.”
He doesn’t know what to say. Nobody’s ever wanted to hang out around him, much less. Well beside that one friend he made online who seemed down to maybe talk in person. But they weren’t you. Nobody compared to you. The silence hangs for a moment but in the soft lighting of your room, your eyes roam over his face again before you push yourself to sit up again, shuffling a little closer to him that Lawrence can feel the warmth of your body next to his. “...is it okay if I…” You dip your head slightly, lashes fluttering to make a point of looking down at his lips before meeting his gaze again. Just barely, Lawrence shakes his head before you give a breathy little chuckle and press your lips to his, a hand raising to cradle his jawline. The light stubble there is felt against the soft, smooth skin of your palm. Your lips are plush and sweetened by whatever alcohol you’d been drinking before, slightly sticky and sweet that Lawrence savors before clumsily kissing you back. Pushing back against you perhaps with an eagerness you hadn’t anticipated that draws a soft sound from your throat. Lawrence swallows down your groan, wanting more, feel you more, taste you more, feel all that livelihood that seems to emanate from you.
The kiss grows, heat building as your arms string around his neck and hands tangle in his blonde hair as it falls messily from its elastic. Lawrence leans, arms circling around your waist, a soft grunt muffled against your lips as he dares to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lower lip before being granted. Being able to explore inside of your mouth before pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel every breath you take, the expanding and compression of your chest, the way your heart thrums against your chest- Lawrence swears he can hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it’s his own pounding in his hears. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is more. More.
And you seem of the same mind. Your hands drift down to his hoodie, moving to push it off his shoulders and Lawrence awkwardly shrugs out of it, loathe to part from your lips even to breathe. With you on your back, his hands take the opportunity to roam, albeit shakily. Taking in every curve, noting the muscle and fat on your body- soft under his larger hands and so very warm. Lawrence could get lost in you endlessly. He wanted to. Parting only for a moment, his breathing ragged, you seem to waste no time as you greedily take in air while yanking your shirt up and over your head and reaching for the buttons of his plaid shirt. It isn’t long between the two of you, clumsy hands- some from alcohol and others from lack of real heated experience, before clothes are strewn over your floor and you and Lawrence are a tangle of limbs on your bed. His body cages you in, body anchored to you as he savors each sensation, each beautiful sound he’s able to pull from your lips, feeling the way your body moves and the way it works against his own. Lawrence reminds himself to be affectionate, what he was taught affection is supposed to look like through media consumption anyway, though with you it’s easier. It’s so lovely to kiss along your neck, feel you gasp and shudder, to feel your pulse flutter under his lips. “...feels…fuck…so good…” he groans lowly against your skin.
Lawrence can almost picture the expression on your face as you give a chime of laughter and dare to roll your hips against his own, feeling his erection straining against the cotton of his boxers in a very obvious tent. “It can feel better…I can make you feel better…” You croon softly and that’s the snap that breaks him. Pulling away so abruptly you look up at him owlishly, he shoves his boxers down his pale thighs, impulse and need overriding most if not all thought in this moment. The desperation that burned through Lawrence to feel you from the inside.You lift your hips accordingly as he paws at your underwear before they slip down your legs and carelessly discarded with everything else. Bare before each other, there’s the briefest moment between the way the two of you have been interlocked, drinking the other one in. Before Lawrence’s hands grip the meat of your hips and tugs you closer with a strength you usually thought was reserved for the warehouse, not that you minded. The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you certainly wouldn’t mind a little bruising if not more come morning.
“Just…Just stay still…Just let me…” He pants, his eyes clouded and glazed over, transfixed as he mumbles almost to himself and you arch your back just so to give him a better angle as one hand releases you to line his aching cock up to your sweet entrance.First he notches the bulbous head in and groans, chest heaving with every breath as you bite your lip with a soft whine- spurning him on, urging him to just push. And so he does, inch by inch, Lawrence spears you on his length and his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull. You feel divine; tight, wet, impossibly warm around him as you clench like a vice that his his hips already stutter the first time within you. Sweat already begins to bead his forehead as Lawrence’s jaw clenches- as tempting as it is, he couldn’t bear the embarrassment if he came undone within you so quickly.
You keen below him, hushed little murmur of, “Please…fuck, Law…need you, please.” While resting your hands on his shoulders with a little squeeze, you don’t mean to rush him, really you don’t- but you’d wanted this, thought about this, more times than you cared to count. And with a little liquid courage in your veins, you finally fucking had it. Had him.
And surely, he begins to rock his hips. The push and pull between you growing as Lawrence begins to rut within you, rhythm building and pressure mounting as you buck your hips in kind, pushing him deeper until his cockhead nudged against that delicious spot within you that made your lashes flutter and moans spill from your lips. Ordinarily, Lawrence wasn’t one for much noise- but the music muffled anything beyond your door and these sounds were for him and him alone. Shouldering your legs over his shoulders, Lawrence picks up his pace and his hips snap against you, heavy balls wetly slapping against your ass that has you squeak until you relax some in his grip. It leaves you helpless, putty as he fucks you into the mattress with reckless abandon now- your headboard knocking against the wall with each brutal thrust as he moans and grunts above you. While the sight of your is ever enticing, something Lawrence wants to burn into the folds of his brain, the need to feel close to you wins as he hunches over, nearly folding you in two. Hands bracing on the bed as he buries his face in the crux of your neck and shoulder as he kisses along the skin, breathing hotly into your ear as he continues to pump his cock into you. “...close…so…need to feel you…so warm…so fucking good…” Lawrence babbles to you, drunk on the euphoria as he feels pleasure coil hot in his stomach, on the brink.
So close.
So close.
So close.
“L-Law…’m not…a-ah, oh fuck…!” You gasp and choke on your words as you’re pinned below him, bliss drawn over your flushed features as your brain struggles to send words to your mouth, “...’m not gonna last...just like that, like that…!” You encourage as he surges with renewed vigor. Lawrence wants, no, needs to feel you come undone around. What you feel like when overcome with pleasure, what you look like, all of it. He grits his teeth before finding better use for his mouth, latching onto your throat to suckle a deep mottled mark into your skin that has you nearly scream into the room before he claps a hand over your lips to muffle it as he feels you contract around him. Convulsing, throbbing, spasming all around him in a way that Lawrence shuddering as his engorged cock finally empties itself within you, the excess forming a creamy ring around the base of his shaft and dripping down the plush swell of your ass onto the duvet. Ragged huffs fan over the hickey now left into your skin as Lawrence gives a few more languid, shallow strokes to enjoy the lingering feeling of you tightly wrapped around him as you try to catch your breath with a few low sounds of complacency. Sated, Lawrence almost begrudgingly lowers your legs carefully and his piercing eyes look up at you- trying to gage if you might be disappointed or upset, but instead is met with a bleary, satisfied smile and a breathy chuckle.
“...fuck, Law. I knew you had in you.” You mutter playfully before resting your arm over your sweaty forehead and Lawrence can feel his lips quirk ever so slightly. Something akin to pride settling in him slightly, but he remains knelt between your legs as a silence settles over the pair of you and you raise your arm to peek at him. Wordlessly, you pat shift and shuffle, peeling back the blankets and patting the spot next to you.
“But…your party…?”
“I’m pretty sure people heard and I’m pretty sure they didn’t. What’re they gonna do? Rob me? I don’t have shit.” You chuckle, though Lawrence seems to give pause and glance to the door. His reluctance seems to sober you some as you sit up slightly. “Uh…unless you wanted to go.” You try to keep your tone steady not to betray the tinge of hurt that creeps in all the same.
“No…! No, that’s not what I want…uhm…” Lawrence awkwardly scoots off your bed and grabs his boxers to tug on padding to your door and opening it a crack, peeking and listening for any other life in your apartment. The music had since stopped and it was still silence.With the knowledge your apartment is now empty, Lawrence locks your door for you before returning into bed and you just smile. The simplest thing, as if this was normal. Maybe it was, Lawrence sure as fuck didn’t know what that was, but this was nice. This was beautiful. You were beautiful.
Slowly, he moves to the other side of the bed and slides in beside you. Lawrence has not slept next to another person, honestly it was never something he thought he would like but it feels like it’s both what you want and what is expected. And frankly- it could be worse. “...Can I…?” He shuffles under the blankets, swathed in your detergent and perfume, his frame shifts over yours and his head presses to your chest where he can hear the steady beat of your heart. The intrusive thought rings in through his head that he could have it, have that piece of you forever. Sealing this moment forever between the two of you...but he pushes it to the back of his head. No, another part of him didn’t want that- as tempting as it may be. If he took that part of you, this wouldn’t be possible. And Lawrence wanted this, whatever this may be, and more of it. More of you. Sex. Intimacy. The touch and warmth of another living being. It was odd, it was still something Lawrence was trying to make sense of. A way that this could remain but you might still be wholly his. All his. Only his.
Lawrence’s reverie is broken only by your arms encircling him and hugging him close to you, one hand carding through his hair to keep his head pressed to your chest as you hum in contentment. “Night, Law.” You mutter with an affectionate kiss to his head as you reach an arm out to turn off your lamp and succumb to sleep. Lawrence lingered awake a while longer, his nocturnal nature something he was grateful for as he relished in the soft breaths while you slept, how your heart slows, the sweet silence as he curls around your body and eventually, an hour or so after observing you, Lawrence sleeps as well.
Eventually sunlight dapples through your blinds, making Lawrence crinkle his nose slightly- he wasn’t accustomed to this. Not that he slept poorly necessarily, but it would take a day or so to get his circadian rhythm back. But it hadn’t been a waste as you groggily rouse beside him with a sleepy smile. “...Hey.” You greet warmly, throat still raspy from sleep as you push some of his bangs from his face. “You sleep okay?” Lawrence nods slowly, drinking in this vulnerable vision of you as you yawn and roll to look at him on your pillow. “You want breakfast or something?” You offer up with that languid smile and something akin to adoration lingering in your eyes, the afterglow looked all the more prepossessing on you. “I have some of that tea still that I brought you a few days ago.”
He pushes up to sit and chews his lip for a moment. Maybe a part of Lawrence had hoped. Had known. “Uh…actually I, uh…I brought some tea for you. I can make us some.” He replies slowly, shifting his gaze to look at you, testing your reaction, if you would find it odd that he brought something besides the wine.
“Aw! Yeah, I’d love that.” You grin and sit up as well, moving to tug fresh underwear on and a large shirt, “You know where the kitchen is, the kettle is on the stove. I’m just gonna freshen up quick.” And with that you disappear into the bathroom while Lawrence prepares you his own specialty brew.
tags/cw: nsfw smut, high sex, canon typical violence mention, this takes place after the “you saw the river” ending, afab reader, smoking weed, lawrence is crazy and reader is into it a little too much, maybe ooc?? this is the first fic i wrote for lawrence a while ago when i first got into the fandom so i apologize
once again there may be some editing mistakes i edited this with a 100 degree fever so erm
recommended listening: the album “moveys” by slow pulp is what i was listening to while writing this :)
It was a lazy evening in the apartment, sunset streaking through the plants and falling on you two as you lay side by side, arms around your waist and face in your hair. Roses sunk into his vision as he breathed you in. He felt your stomach rise and fall with every breath. It calmed him to know something tangible, alive was here that needed him other than his plants. You were still asleep.
He glanced at the clock. 5 pm in Alberta. The bustle of the rush hour traffic outside and the yelling of his neighbors never used to bother him, as he always rose with the moon anyway, but now it did bother him. He glanced down at you asleep beside him and noticed your nose twitch. He held his hands against your ears, your hair tickling him. He’d sit there as long as he could so you wouldn’t be woken up.
He couldn’t really figure out how long he stayed like that for. The clock said 6:30 when you began to stir, but he couldn’t have been watching you that long, right? That was a long time. But time slowed down when it came to you.
Bleary eyed, you let out a content sigh and rubbed your cheek against his hand, still holding your ears. You blinked a few times, yawned and stretched, and met his eyes with a sleepy smile.
“Hi, Lawrence.” He could see the tired shine in your eyes.
“Did the sounds wake you up?” He asked, pulling his hands away. You rolled over and took his wrists, pulling him back into you. He’d never get used to this, he recalled thinking.
You shook your head. “Slept for a while, though.” You yawned as you sat up. He leaned his head against your shoulder. You remembered thinking how terrified you were when you first met. You squished his cheeks, watching the redness spread across his face.
“Not that long,” he responded, pulling away but keeping an arm around you. “You were asleep when I got home at 7.”
You gritted your teeth. “12 hours of sleep? Shit, you could’ve woken me.” You leaned into him, feeling him tense and then relaxed against you.
“You were long gone.” He rested his chin in your hair. The two of you watched the rest of the sun dip down over the cityline.
Wordlessly, he detached himself from you and began to make his rounds for his plants. You propped yourself up on your arm and watched him. Occasionally he’d pluck a leaf off and roll it between his fingers, watching it with fascination. It was calming, a nice routine to fall into. You’d watch his back, flushing at the way the muscles moved underneath the skin. For someone who ate nothing but fast food and gas station sandwiches, he was surprisingly in decent shape. It didn’t help that he hardly ever wore a shirt at home.
You never talked about sex. Never brought it up. To your surprise, he was a gentleman. He’d turn around when you got changed and gave you space if you needed. Save for the first week of their meeting, he never hurt you again. He never asked for anything, never made a move, nothing. After a while, he let you lock the door to the bathroom. Not that you even needed to at that point. It was strange to feel safe like this with a dude that literally kidnapped you outside of a bar. But that was just how he was.
You watched him for a while, missing his warmth. When he was done he sat back down beside you. You wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the familiar initial tensing and then relaxing. You rested your face in his back. The sickly sweet scent of rot and earth filled your nose.
He wrapped an arm behind himself and rubbed your head. It was nice for him to not feel so alone all the time. Company, when it was company that understood him, was better than he thought.
He reached onto the couchside table and grabbed his grinder. You watched him pack a bowl and light it, blowing the smoke out the window. He offered it to you. You gladly took it.
“Y’know, I never really smoked much before I met you.” You said, wistful eyes watching the moon as she began to make her peak over the cityline.
“Yeah?” Out of the corner of your eye she could see him watching you. He always seemed to be watching you.
“Mhm.” You hummed, handing it back to him. He puffed the smoke out the window, watching it dissolve into the cold Canada night air.
“Why’s that?” He shifted so he was facing you, passing the bowl back. You dug around a little to make sure there was still some green in the mess of ashes. You’d begun to feel all floaty, fairy dust in your lungs making you dully sparkle.
“Always had somewhere to be, something to do.” You reached out to grab the grinder, packing another bowl as you flicked the ashes out. “Never had the time, and when I did, I had somewhere to be in an hour.” You smiled at the nostalgia. He tried not to think too much about your life before him.
You could feel his discomfort, tangible through the smoke you shared. You passed back the bowl.
“It’s nice to not have places to be or things to do anymore.” You rested your head against your hand as you gazed out the window. “It’s nice to live at my leisure.”
“You were dealing with a lot before.” He acknowledged. He didn’t like to hear about it, but you’d let things slip sometimes before he could unhear it. Shitty boyfriend, boring part time job, your classes at university keeping you chained to your car and your campus. It didn’t sound like much of a life. Not that his life was, but he hoped you were happier here. He tried his best to provide.
“Yeah.” You crossed your legs and watched him blow smoke out the window again, watching the way it dissipated into the cold. “A lot.”
You two fell into a lulled silence, broken only by the flick of the lighter and the deep inhales of the bowl. Eventually, you realized you’d smoked way too much. The room felt fluffy and your face felt puffy. Your eyes were red and your mouth was dry. He passed the bowl back to you, but you shook your head.
“Too much,” you said softly. He just nodded and returned to facing the window to finish off the bowl. But the highness in your brain didn’t let you know when to stop, so you continued babbling, even though you knew he didn’t like to hear it. “There are some things I miss.”
He didn’t answer, which usually you’d take as a sign to stop. Not tonight. “I miss my parents, and family. I miss my car. She was a nice little car. I worked hard for her.” You watched the ceiling fan move lazily, the black paint chipping. He’d made a quip about how the landlord would add that to his deposit too when you first noticed it. “I miss my friends. I had good friends. I ever tell you about them? They’d make late class nights so worth it.” You smiled at the memories. “Y’know what I really miss, though?”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He answered sternly, this time facing you. You saw the terrifying glint in his blue eyes that you saw that first night with him.
“Dick.”
He almost coughed into the bowl. “What?”
You sat up and started laughing, the nice high laugh that made everything feel giggly and like it was in slow motion. He loved the way you laughed- you had enough laughter for the both of them. You’d double over and cover your face in your hands, and the only way he could tell you were still laughing was an occasional wheeze and the reliable shaking of your back.
“Dude, I miss dick! Like, so bad!” You laughed more in spite of yourself, gripping the back of the couch. “Holy shit! I’m smoking weed with this guy that kidnapped me and all I can think about is ‘woah, I miss sex’. What kind of degenerate am I?” You laid back against the couch again, closing your eyes with a satisfied grin. He was silent. He’d assumed you’d had… experience, despite never talking about it. You were beautiful and kind and easy to get along with. He’d pretty much known you’d had guys at your feet. He just scared everyone off. He had no experience whatsoever, besides a pawn shop laptop from 2005 and his own hand. This was the first time sex had ever been brought up with you. It was like a taboo, at least for him- don’t speak about it. Don’t say a word. If you get weirded out, you’ll leave. It had gotten to a point where you stayed out of want, not need. The door was unlocked. You could leave whenever. You’d chosen not to. He didn’t want to fuck that up.
But he found himself staring at you in a different light now. You looked damn cute in his shirt, sliding off your shoulder, and he never noticed the way his boxers hugged your curves and came to a stop right before your thighs started due to how much of her there was there. You two studied each other for a moment before you continued speaking.
“You always look so good, like, all the time.” The ceiling fan kept spinning. “I love blondes and I love long hair and your tattoos are like, really cool. I don’t know how you’re so muscular with what you eat. I love the way you feel and your voice makes me crazy. Fuck, dude.” You began laughing again. “Law?”
“Yes?” He stared at you like a deer in headlights. He may have taken you, but you held his heart and soul hostage in your hands.
“Sometimes I want you so badly, I can’t even breathe.” You rolled over onto your stomach and sat up, staring at him, and it’s like you saw through him. All the nastiness, all the disgust, right through every part of him. You saw it and you seemed like you loved it. “Law?” You asked again, getting a little closer. He backed up just a bit.
“Y-Yes?”
“Have you ever…? Y’know.” You shifted onto your knees now, leaning over the couch and staring through him again right to the barest parts.
He shook his head.
You looked shocked. “Like, never?”
He shook his head again. “I’m scary.”
You pouted. “No, you’re not. You’re sweet once someone gets to know you. You’re gentle.” You noticed he kept backing up and gently touched his cheek. “Law?”
He swallowed hard, tensing at the touch. “You keep saying that.”
You moved even closer, nearly on his lap now. “I want you.”
It was the unspoken rule that shattered into a million pieces now. His heart hammered in his chest. Sometimes he’d watch you rise and fall as you slept and wonder what it would be like to be with you like that. But he could never ask. He’d never ask. And he’d never do anything without asking, either, so it just never happened.
“W-What?”
“Is that okay?” You put a hand on his thigh.
He was shaking now as he put a hand on your arm. “Why? Why me?”
You smiled at the ground. “...You’re nice. You’re really nice. You can tell things about me. You really care. You understand me and you treat me like no one else has.” Your blush deepened. “And… you’re beautiful. Like, really beautiful.”
“That’s sad.” He said. You laughed.
“I know. But I don’t care. I want you.” You made another move and this time he let you, pulling you in slightly- only slightly.
“B-But I don’t know things. I don’t know how… I don’t want to hurt..” His voice trailed off as you put your forehead against his.
“That’s okay.” You smiled. Instinctively he brought his fingers up to the scar on your back. “I know it won’t. I trust you.”
He realized with disdain that you shouldn’t. His grip tightened.
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking into your eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know how I’ll be, I don’t know what I can control, I-”
You nodded, shutting him up.
“Please.”
That was all he needed to hear. Like a predator he tackled you against the couch, and for the first time in months the softness was gone and he was back to the guy who grabbed you outside the bar. He was already tugging at your shirt. All the softness you’d gotten used to was gone, replaced by the person he was that first night. The dangerous, borderline psychopath who had you tied to a chair and ripped you open and fingered the wound. The fucking freak who told you on that first night you’d die here as you clawed at his wrists.
And it ashamed you to say it turned you on.
You’d figured it would be intense. You knew that, and you knew him, and at this point you knew what this would look like. You’d bleed, he’d hurt you, but he’d patch you up at the end and lull you to sleep covering your ears because he knew you couldn’t sleep with background noise because he was thoughtful like that. You dug your fingers into his bare back as he nestled himself in between your legs, eliciting a groan in that natural deep voice that sent chills down your spine. You felt him reach down and held your breath for a moment. This was really happening.
He was surprisingly gentle about it as he hooked a finger under your waistband. He tugged it down slightly and watched your expression. Opposite to his touch, his expression was dark and violent, like he was trying to hold himself back from tearing you apart like a wolf on a deer.
Your face heated up again. He didn’t ask as he tore them off your legs so hard you heard a rip. He buried his fingers inside you almost immediately, groaning at the warmth. You were always so warm. It infuriated him. He never wanted this. It was a spur of the moment decision to take her, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know what to do with her, and now here she was, bring your warmth and your laughter and your rose scent and your stupid fucking warmth taunting him every second of every day. He’d have to fight himself not to pounce on you. Did you know how you tortured him? How badly he ached for you as he watched you sleep, holding himself back with all the strength he had?
Finally, finally, he thought as he nestled his head in the crook of your neck. You gripped his back. He was moaning more than you were, and you were the one with his fingers in you. You were so warm, so wet, so alive and it was hard to believe he used to want you anything but alive.
His other hand wrapped around you and felt up and down your back, the scar tissue still healing. The memories of that night came rushing back. You felt equally as warm and wet as he dug his fingers into the wound.
“Put your thumb on top,” you whispered to him. He glared up at you.
“I’ll do what I want.” He was like a whole different person than the Lawrence you’d gotten used to. He was the man he used to be before the trust.
Your eyes softened. “Please?” You pleaded, and he damned you in his head because you knew your little doe eyes could get anything you wanted from him. Even that first night after he dipped his knife into your wrist, you begged oh so politely for him to stop and wrap you up and that’s exactly what he did.
He sighed and let you take his hand and direct it. You put his thumb against your clit and then pulled back, making a beckoning motion with your fingers.
“It feels really nice when you do this,” you said. He pursed his lips and hesitantly tried it. It was something special the way you immediately melted back into his arms, head pulled in close to his chest. If this was all it took to get you to fold underneath him, he’d do it for weeks without stopping.
He found himself thinking as he drank in the sight of your flushed cheeks and pitiful expression. It was unfair others had seen you like this, yet you got to experience this with him for his first time. It irritated him knowing other men had been between these legs. Some sicker part of him wanted to punish you for it, make you bleed, make you really hurt for how he was hurting. You figured that would happen sooner or later. Beneath the gentle exterior, he was fucking crazy and you knew that.
He sunk his teeth deep into your neck, eliciting a whimper from you that turned into a soft yelp. He clamped his free hand over your mouth just like he did when you woke up tied to a chair that first night. He pulled away and watched as blood beaded from the bite mark. He looked up at her and licked his lips of the red. He wanted more. So much more. He kept pumping his fingers in and out, listening to your noises and feeling you squirm underneath him. You couldn’t stop the tears from forming at the corners of your eyes.
“You’re gonna die if you leave here, you know that?” He whispered against your ear. “I could kill you right now and no one would know. This is where you belong now.”
You whimpered. “It’s stay here or die. I know. I made my choice.”
You smiled that stupid fucking smile.
He bit you again and kissed down your stomach, pulling your shirt up over it. He watched the blood smudge against your skin. You put your hand on your neck and made a pained, strangled noise. He couldn’t believe he was in you right now, connected and enveloped in your warmth. There were nights he’d daydream about curling up against your ribcage and holding your heart and feeling it beat in his fist. He’d considered it occasionally, especially in the beginning. But this was nice, too. This was close enough.
He pinned your wrists above your head with his free hand and you watched sweat bead under his bangs. He was breathing heavier than you were. He was so close to you, his soulmate, his one true companion, something keeping him tethered to the world when all he wanted was to return to the River. He was once again moaning more than you were, collapsing against your bleeding neck in gasps and whimpers, feeling deeper and deeper as he tried to get as much of him in you as he could. He wanted to feel every inch, every shift, every soft and warm centimeter of you. This was special- not like the others who’d got to be here. They didn’t appreciate it like he did. They could never. All they wanted was a quick fuck, he was sure of it. They could never know you like he did. He was the only one who could truly know you. You had nothing left to hide from him- not anymore. Not with him being knuckle deep inside you.
That thought was all it took for him to unravel. You felt him let out a last whimper against your neck, stubble tickling you as he collapsed on top of you. You watched the wet spot form on his sweatpants as he continued his attack between your legs, gripping his back. You blinked a few times. There’s no way he came just from fingering you. There was no way.
“L-Law? Did you…?” You whispered against his hair, hand moving up to cradle his head against you. He looked up at you, eyes dead and lips dripping blood. That, and the knowledge that a guy had just come from the mere act of pleasuring you made fireworks erupt in your stomach and white filled your vision. You tilted your head back and arched as he held you close, not letting you get more than an inch away from him. He felt you pulse against his fingers, the new sensation rejuvenating him and breathing life into him. You whimpered and he held you through your high. Even when you’d both finished, he didn’t pull his fingers out or move from on top of you, breathing heavily against your neck.
“You can take them out now,” You said softly against his hair. He shook his head.
“Uh-uh. I want to stay here forever.” His breath tickled your jawline. You blushed. Nobody had ever been like this before, appreciated you like this.
“We- We can go all the way, if you want.” You said. He put his weight on one of his arms as you stared up at his eyes. A glimmer of softness lingered behind the dead blue. His sanity seemed to be returning, for now.
“L-Like, I can- I can go in?” He asked, excitement sparkling his eyes. You nodded.
He slid his fingers out. That was all it took for him to frantically kick off his sweatpants and boxers. You stopped and stared at him for a moment, suddenly getting very self conscious as you pressed your legs together, hiding yourself for a moment. He was stunning. I mean, you knew that already, but he was fucking huge and beautiful and you were soft where he was muscle and suddenly you felt very nervous.
He frowned as he watched you, but he made you sit up and began to lift your shirt over your head completely. You kept your legs crossed and drawn up to your chest, clutching your shirt.
“Why are you hiding?” He asked, studying your nervous expression.
“N-Nervous. You’re gorgeous.”
“You shouldn’t be nervous!” He exclaimed, dropping your shirt. “You’re beautiful!” He seemed personally offended that anyone thought otherwise and made you feel otherwise. He should’ve come along sooner! He could’ve prevented this. He could've always made you feel beautiful. You never should’ve had to doubt that.
You looked up at him, tears still in your eyes. “Really?”
“Yes!” He pushed you down onto your back again, pulling at your shirt once more. “Please? I want to see you.”
You flushed and let him pull it off you. You wrapped your arms around your middle, still pressing legs together, avoiding his gaze. Post nut clarity hit hard and you realized what you were doing. You were sleeping with the dude that kidnapped you, and he was being kinder than anyone had been to you in bed. It was insane and you felt deeply ashamed that you wanted this.
He pawed at your thighs. “Please?”
You nodded. He pulled them apart and stared down at you like a man starved. It took him no time to line himself up at your entrance and your wetness made it so it took no effort to push himself inside. You gripped the couch, arching your back with a moan as he whimpered.
“F-Fuck…” He moaned, staring down at you. Now it was his turn to look through your soul, see everything you hid and feel and see your every crevice inside and out. He didn’t need to physically open you up and steal your heart to feel close to you- turns out, sex was enough.
He began to thrust in and out, propping himself up against you with his arms as he buried his face in your neck. He was once again moaning more than you were. He wanted to stay here forever. Fall asleep inside you like that one Third Eye Blind song. You squirmed and writhed under his grip, the pleasure bordering on pain as he rammed into you repeatedly. You gripped his back, holding him as close as you could. You were so beautiful to him. He wanted this forever, wanted you forever, trapped between him and his couch he found on the side of the street once and now covered in your blood and sweat and a wet spot underneath where he’d fucked you senseless his first time ever. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to keep him in forever. Being connected like this to him felt right- more right than anything you’d ever felt. It was right where you belonged. You were two twin flames searching for each other in every lifetime, fingers brushing as they floated down the river and knowing they needed each other. You felt complete, like you’d finally found the thing you’d been missing forever.
He finished fast. Like, 30 seconds fast. Not the fastest you’d had, but it flattered you instead of upset you. He buried himself deep and didn’t let any spill out. He knew he didn’t have to worry- due to his… condition, there was no chance of kids for him ever. The Oleander line died with him. He breathed heavily into your neck. He realized you were sobbing.
“Can I stay inside?” He asked her, breathless against you.
“P-Please.” You sobbed. “Please stay inside. Please stay with me. Please. Please don’t leave.”
He didn’t know how to show you or tell you he could never even if he wanted to. Whether you liked it or not, you were connected now. You were one. Two bodies, the same soul.
“Never.” He whispered, kissing your jawline. He never kissed you. “I’m here. I’ll be here. Soulmates.” The word escaped him too soon, too fast.
“Soulmates,” you agreed, remembering back to that first night when he told you soulmates weren’t real and it was just a fantasy and fantasies were fake and he “wished he could tell you it would be okay, but it wasn’t”. But it was okay. Lawrence Oleander collapsed on top of you, still inside you, breathless and both of you crying, clinging to each other like you’d lose each other in that river, the last piece of driftwood keeping the other from drowning.
haii!! i was wondering if you could do fluffy headcanons with Peter from YBF?? like just domestic life with him and MC living together, also mayb cuddle headcanons .w.
♡ of course! This is such an adorable request !!
! even though there's no nsfw in this, your boyfriend is an 18+ game, so the 18+ only rule still applies lovelies <3 ! 🎀🩷
some of my fluffy and cuddle peter headcanons (his soft side) ♡
♡ expect the royalty treatment, he makes you breakfast in bed every morning and insists on watching you eat it, just happy that his darling likes his cooking
♡ clingy clingy clingy he wants to do everything together, even things like brushing your teeth together and getting dressed together
♡ adores you in anything you wear, but especially when you ask his opinion on your outfit, he loves getting to pick out what you wear
♡ does not let you leave the room without giving him a kiss first
♡ ensures you stay hydrated and well taken care of every day, praising you for looking after yourself for him
♡ he doesn't like you leaving the house and won't let you go alone, but if you really need to leave the house for something, he will allow it as long as he goes with you
♡ this man LOVES pda, constantly kissing you, holding your hand, arm around your waist, or just touching you in some way whenever you're in public. he needs to make sure that everyone knows you're his after all
♡ wants to give you marks before going out, apologising softly as he tries to be gentle whilst giving you hickeys despite his sharp teeth, yet insisting he needs to so that people will know that you're taken when they see you
♡ spoils the fuck out of you, briefly mention that you like something? It's yours straight away
♡ always wants to pamper you, offering you massages, running you warm baths, washing your hair and body for you when you're tired
♡ he loves to cuddle, especially to fall asleep, always fearing that you'll try to leave in the night so he needs to keep you close
♡ completely wraps himself around you and instantly pulls you back if you try to move away
♡ scratches your back gently and whispers soothing things in your ear if you ever need comfort
♡ gets all giddy and blushy when you snuggle into him
Imagine the BTD boys with a partner that's a forensic pathologist. It'd be so ironic.
Take Lawrence, for example.
He's obsessed with this person that lives in one of the neighboring buildings. He aways watches you trough you windows. Cooking or cleaning around your flat and whatnot.
He has no clue what your occupation is, but he's noticed you leaving for work or coming home late before he leaves for the storage house some nights.
One night, he sees you struggling with a flat tire and swallows down his anxiety to approach and help.
You exchange a short, awkward conversation and while you're smoking, asks you where you work and why you're leaving so late.
When you tell him you're basically digging around in corpses for a living the color drains from his face.
Not because he's weirded out, but because he starts wondering if you've ever had to work on any of his.... Guests.
A couple of days after you officially meet, you see him going off to work again and ask him if he's up to go grab coffee sometimes, your treat. Y'know, to repay for helping you fix your car. Totally not because you know exactly what he's done and it makes you shiver just thinking about it.
Yeah... You're not exactly the most sane person. You're fascinated with the concept of death. Since you were little, quite a lot like him actually, not that you realize that. It's just your.... Approach to this morbid curiosity is different to his.
You're easily one of the best in your field in the country. It's why the police never seem to question you, even if one day you bring this rando into the morgue to watch you work. They know they need you there because of all the weird deaths that seem to keep happening.
Lawrence watches you work in a daze. He's infatuated with the manic gleam in your eyes whenever you make a new incision or dig around in the body splayed across the table.
He's almost jealous, not sure if he wants to take your place or that of the corpse.
He's had more than one dream about you. Being under you, unmoving but very much conscious and aware. The way you glide the scalpel across his skin, prying him open and running your hands over his body. He thinks he's going crazy. He'll wake up in cold sweat and realize his slacks and sheets are ruined with his spend.
Funnily enough, you seem to have the same fantasies. It's weird. You've barely talked to the guy but you're becoming increasingly obsessed with him. To a concerning degree.
He's so strange and fidgety. You wanna cut him open and see what makes him tick. You'd drench him in his own blood just to lick it off. If you see him covered in red you might just pounce.
He wonders if you've seen the river... Maybe he should show you.
.
.
.
Yeah, you both belong in an asylum but hey, at least you found each other.
Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh Sleeping Headcanons 🌙💤🛌
Hello everyone! In between fics I have been working on some headcanons, like this one, for your reading pleasure. :) It's some bedtime/sleeping arrangement scenarios feat. you and our favorite murderous companions. <3 It’s dedicated to all the sleepy individuals out there that just want to hit the hay and snooze the day away-I feel you and you are valid. Also there is a bonus plushie headcanon for each character because why not! If you don’t have at least stuffed creature on your bed, this is your sign to love yourself. Go acquire a friend and snuggle up with him, I demand it. ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
DUE TO THE NATURE OF THESE HEADCANONS AND THE SOURCE MATERIAL, 18+ ONLY PLEASE!
Warnings: abuse/abusive relationships, noncon/dubcon, forced cuddling, forced interaction, forced relationships, implied kidnapping, being held against your will, reader is threatened and hurt, mentions of/implied sex, very lightly edited.
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Ren/Fox🦊
· Exceptionally clingy when he sleeps. Honestly like a suction cup. Regardless of if he’s the little or big spoon, he’ll be latched to you the whole night. Wiggle and complain as much as you like, he’s not relinquishing his hold.
· Even if you two are just taking a little nap together, he always has to have some kind of skin contact with you. Holding hands, cuddling, a limb draped over you, something. He needs the reminder that you are there and that you aren’t going anywhere, he can’t sleep peacefully without it.
· He’s warm. Too warm, really. Uncomfortably warm. In winter this poses no problem, but during the summer it’s nearly unbearable. You need to crank the AC to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of sweat, but the added cold only makes him cling to you tighter, increasing the heat. He doesn’t seem to mind the warmth at all and takes offense if you try and voice your irritation, giving you an earful (if not worse) over how you need to be more grateful for the affection he douses you with, warning that if you don’t watch yourself, next time it snows you’ll be camping outside with nothing but the clothes on your back. We’ll see how much you miss his warmth then.
· He’s a night owl, but he also somehow always wakes up before you do. It’s not uncommon for you to be awoken by an eager beastkin shoving a homemade breakfast in your face, excited to start his day with his love by sharing breakfast in bed with you and watching anime. <3
· Though sometimes he gets a little too excited in the morning, and if that’s the case you’ll be waking up to a very handsy man pawing at you, kissing any and every place his lips can reach, pressing himself against you so you can feel just how excited he is. It’s a good thing you are in bed because by the time he’s done you’ll be so worn out you’ll need some more rest. ^^;
· Also, he is an avid fan of plushies. If you also collect them your bed is going to be 90% plushies and he is 100% going to use that as an excuse to be squeezed on the bed with you as close as physically possible so as you all can have room. None of them are allowed on the floor, no man is left behind, and he’ll make sure you all fit whether it is comfortable or not.
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Lawrence🌿
· Lawrence is the exact opposite of Ren when it comes to contact. Though he may fall asleep with you in his arms (or vice versa), he very quickly grows uncomfortable with the prolonged contact, his body used to being the sole person in his bed. Very shortly after he falls asleep, he will unconsciously push you away to try and create distance. No matter how much he may yearn for your contact in his waking hours, he has no control over his subconscious actions. Often times the shoving is much rougher than it needs to be, abruptly (and painfully) waking you up in the process.
· However, this does not deter him from making you sleep with him. Even if he ends up damn near shoving you off the bed, he wants you to be close to him for as long as and as much as possible.
· Lawrence is basically nocturnal, and even if you are also a night owl there are bound to be some times when your sleep schedules don’t fall in line with each other. He gets a little excited when you fall asleep when he is awake, taking pleasure in watching you as you slumber. The way you lay near him, completely unguarded and quiet, only the slow rise and fall of your chest denoting that you are alive at all… It does something for him. More than once you’ve woken up to him standing over you, face flushed and tears in his eyes as he’s pumping his dick to the sight of your passed out form. If you wake before he can finish himself, he’s gonna use you to complete the job.
· In fact, he just likes to stare at you while you sleep in general. He doesn’t have to feel anxious or worried of how you may perceive his gawking if you aren’t aware it’s happening to begin with. It’s a nice chance to really take in and appreciate your beauty without facing any backlash, and it comforts him to know you trust him enough to fall that deeply into slumber in his presence.
· Doesn’t really get the point of plushies and never really had a strong attachment to stuffed animals as a child, so he doesn’t have any of his own and has no desire to own any. He thinks it’s cute that you like them though, and won’t deny you if you want to take one or two to bed with you. If you gift him one, he’ll be flustered but thankful, hugging it when he is unable to hug you. The little friend is a perfect cuddle buddy for when your sleep schedules don’t align and he doesn’t want to disturb you once you have fallen asleep.
· Just be mindful that if he gets agitated or you piss him off, he’ll definitely destroy your beloved stuffies, tearing them to shreds with either his bare hands or any of the gardening tools he has lying around. He’ll instantly feel bad if you begin to cry over it, but at that point it’s too late. It’s best to stop the tears before he turns the assault towards you.
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Strade🔪
· Strade is all over the place when he sleeps. It doesn’t matter how big the bed is or how little space you take up in it, his presence is unavoidable. You can try and create as much distance as physically possible, scrunching yourself up in a corner in hopes that he doesn’t come in contact with you, and you’ll still end up with him sprawled all over you come morning.
· He’s also loud. Snoring, grunting, talking in his sleep, he’s so noisy it’s a wonder you can get any sleep at all. You get used to it after a while (you don’t have a choice), but each time he nudges you in his sleep or wakes you up with a particularly loud snore, it’s all just another unpleasant reminder you are stuck with him, unable to find tranquility even in your dreams.
· He has a tendency to latch on to and keep a close hold of whatever is closest to him while he sleeps. The moment he looks even slightly drowsy you try and stay away from him, not thrilled with the prospect of being smashed up against him for hours on end while he’s pleasantly off in dreamland. Were it anyone else or any other situation, you may find the clinginess endearing, but with Strade it’s just extremely uncomfortable and confusing. You spend the whole time unsure if you want him to wake up and let you go (and thus have to deal with an alert and active monster) or if you want to remain silent and just put up with it, thankful for the rare moment of peace.
· He sleeps the best after successfully finding and securing a new victim, the gusto and energy that he puts towards spending time with his new ‘friend’ leaves him completely spent by the end of the day. A tired Strade is usually a good thing for you-if he’s worn out, he’s less likely to bother or hurt you. However the opposite is also true, if he hasn’t been able to blow off steam in a while he’ll grow antsy and restless, and he’s bound to make his lack of sleep and overall disgruntlement your problem. Regardless, you won’t get much sleep either way, as you find no contentment in either situation.
· Though they aren’t really his thing, he is amused by your plushies. While he can see the appeal of them, the only real interest he takes in them is how you react to them. Which ones are your favorite, do you favor one character or animal over another, do you prefer the big and fluffy or small and squishy? Most importantly though, he wants to know how deeply your fondness for them extends and how/if he can use that as a persuasive tool against you in the future. Should they prove to be a promising means of coercion, prepare for quite a few new plush friends to keep you company in the future. :)
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Celia👩💼
· She’s an early riser. Not necessarily because she wants to so much as it’s engrained in her from years of putting in overtime at her corporate job. If you try and pull her back into bed she’ll gripe at you, but is secretly happy that you are willingly making yourself a scapegoat for her laziness. Though on days she absolutely has to get up early, you best be getting up right alongside her to help her get ready for the day or you will be deeply regretting it. She always takes precedence, you can sleep more when she leaves.
· She’s on edge most of the time and is overall a very light sleeper. If you snore or toss and turn too much, she’ll get pissed off and roughly shove you awake, grumbling obscenities while complaining about how annoying you are being. If she can’t sleep, she certainly isn’t going to let you sleep either.
· Even if you aren’t a noisy or restless sleeper, she’ll still find constant things to gripe about regarding your sleeping arrangement. Either you take up too much room, or you are encroaching on her personal space, or you have some other sleeping habit she finds grating that you have no control over because you are unconscious when you do it. She doesn’t ever seem overly pleased to share sleeping space with you, and you often wonder why she doesn’t just banish you to the couch or some other place to get your rest.
· And yet, she never does make you sleep elsewhere. In fact, it only makes her MORE pissed off if you suggest it, taking it as a personal offense that you don’t want to spend time with her. She won’t admit it to you, but the act of sleeping near someone she doesn’t positively loathe or who isn’t trying to use her in some way is one of the few things that really brings her peace. Even if it’s against your will, having you in bed with her soothes her. It’s honestly the best sleep she has had in ages.
· She’s not a huge cuddler, but she does like physical confirmation that you are near. Often times she’ll reach out in the night to grab your hand or drape her arm across your body, never smothering, but just enough contact to assure that you are still by her side.
· She staunchly refuses to have any stuffed animals in her bed, telling you she finds them childish and stupid (whether she actually feels this way or is just pissed you are trying to bring things into her bed that take up even more space is debatable). If she finds any plushies you are hiding she will most likely throw them away on sight. You may be able to get away with a little one, but that’s only if she doesn’t find it or is feeling extremely benevolent.
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Derek🦂
· The only time Derek shows any kind of ‘affection’ is when he sleeps. Like Strade, he likes to secure himself to things while he slumbers, and if he doesn’t fall asleep with an item (you) already in his arms at some point in the night, he will subconsciously grab onto something (also you) and not relent until he wakes the next morning.
· The way he clings to you can almost be considered sweet. Wrapping his arms around you securely, burying his face into your chest or the crux of your neck as he snuggles up against you as close as physically possible, it makes you momentarily forget what a monster the man beside you actually is. It’s almost as if he’s a child huddled up close to a parent, seeking comfort from the things that go bump in the night. The spell is broken if he happens to be awoken during one of these cuddle sessions, and he’ll take out his embarrassment over the situation by treating you even crueler than he typically does.
· One of the few niceties he allows you is sleeping in his bed as opposed to the floor-but it comes at a price. It’s an honor to be able to sleep next to him nightly in his huge, plush, expensive bed, an honor far too good for the likes of you. He expects to be compensated for his generosity, so you’d best be ready to do any and everything he asks or desires at the drop of a hat, no matter how degrading or agonizing it may be. If you want to keep this privilege while preventing as much suffering as possible, you’ll do as he says. (Then again, it’s not like he really needs your active participation to force what he wants out of you, but he does like when you obey him ‘willingly’ and has a tendency to be a smidge less cruel when you follow his instruction).
· He usually forces you to either sleep nude or in some very compromising/uncomfortable/embarrassing negligee that covers so little you mine as well BE naked. He’s a blanket hog too, and has a penchant for cranking up the AC at night, leaving your only source of warmth to be curling up beside him. You try and fight it at first, but you inevitably give in when the chill gets to be too much (also you aren’t too keen on getting ill in his presence, swallowing your pride is worth it if you can avoid more suffering).
· He will mercilessly make fun of and belittle you for any stuffed animals you may have or try to sleep with. He’ll infantilize you, asking if you need a binky to go with your stuffy, or tease that he’ll need to put you in diapers so you don’t accidentally shit the bed. However, even with all the constant mocking, he does find it kinda hot when you try and use the plushies as a shield, doing your best to conceal your sniveling face and exposed body behind the fluffy creature as he plows into you ruthlessly. The toy does a shit job shielding you, but it is hilarious to watch you try and hide yourself behind them.
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Mason🐻
· Despite everything, he’s actually probably the nicest of the lot to sleep with. He’s warm and soft, and when he holds you it’s comforting and shockingly soothing. It’s disconcerting how easily you melt into the same person that caused you so much trauma and torment, haunted by the fact that the arms that now wrap snuggly around you were not so long ago the greatest threat to your life. You don’t know whether you should be more disgusted with him for holding you with such familiarity or yourself for enjoying it as much as you do.
· The man can sleep almost anywhere. After years of surviving out in the wilderness he has honed his body to handle tough climates and all manner of conditions, granting him the ability to thrive in less than favorable environments. The man could probably fall asleep in the middle of a torrential downpour with nothing but a rock bed beneath him and come out of it completely rested.
· You aren’t expected to immediately be able to rough it. He realizes this way of life is all fairly new to you and that getting used to nights out in the wilderness has its own learning curve. Because of this, he’s actually surprisingly accommodating about the whole thing. When you camp, he makes sure to bring his best tent and sleeping bag for you to use, even though it’s a hassle to drag around and he himself has long since forgone the need for it. Though it’s nearly impossible to find comfort enough to sleep while stranded deep out in an unfamiliar forest, surrounded by nothing but the pitch black of night, all manner of voracious wild animals, and a serial killer, he does his best to make sure you are adequately cared for and as content as you can possibly be.
· However you best not slack with your survival instincts, this coddling is only a limited time deal. You proved yourself to him once by pulling through his trial, but that doesn’t mean you have a free ride forever. He’ll pamper you a bit in the ‘honeymoon’ phase, but if you grow complacent and begin to let him down… It isn’t going to be a smooth or happy time for either of you. Its best not to betray his expectations, if you do something overly stupid or otherwise show your survival was just a fluke… your sleeping arrangement is going to be the least of your concern.
· He finds your affinity for stuffed animals a bit juvenile, but also slightly endearing. He can’t deny how cute you look when you are curled up in his bed, nestled amongst various furs and blankets, clutching tight to your favorite plushie while you rest. He enjoys that sight so much that he decides to make you his own plushie for you one day as a gift.
· It was a strange little lumpy creature he cobbled together from various fabric scraps and other soft, but unidentified, material, all sloppily hand sewn with little black buttons for eyes. It was a true amalgamation of mismatched cloth and stuffing, and to be honest… You weren’t really sure what it was supposed to be. A bear, maybe? Or a raccoon? Regardless, you take it without question, and once he sees it’s been accepted he’s quick to discard your previous plush. He’s accepting of this hobby to a degree-you can have ONE. And since you were smart and picked the better of the two, you don’t need the ratty old one to cling to for company anymore. You have him and you have his gift, everything else is frivolous.
