#(( SHE AINT A MIND READER (mostly) ))

[satkru]

Caked up Male!Reader getting hit on and felt up by his classmates at Jujutsu High.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 2nd yrs and 1st yrs x m!reader (w a FATTIE)

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ : zhellas bby.. ur reqs have my SOUL on a leash 😭

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ : m! reader w a big ol booty , (kindve??) oblivious reader , free-use reader , these students got NOO SHAME 🙏🏽‼️ , booty grabbing , booty slapping , groping (basically) , nsfw jokes abt the reader, i HATE panda so dont expect him to be here

YUUJI - ✦

y'all know yuuji aint the type of guy to let a perfectly good ass untouched, hes a literal FIEN for ts. so it wasnt a total surprise whenever yuuji was around his hand would sometimes (if not always) near y/n's voluptuous ass. his hand on one cheek gripping the ever living shit out of it. he just couldnt get enough of how circular it was and how it jiggled every time y/n walked.

before training, itadori would slap y/n's ass as a "good luck charm", as if the boner in his pants would help him in combat..

MEGUMI - ✦

fushiguro is the FARTHEST thing of a pervert, but when it comes to y/n.. god he just cant handle himself

hes very shy with his actions, mostly due to the fact that if he let himself get handsy with you, he'd go absolutely FERAL.

just the slight wobble of y/n's ass is enough to boggle megumi's mind and keep him busy for the next 2 hours.

but nevertheless, megumi is still a sane and sensible person around y/n, although he can be seen stumbling over his words whenever he does get the chance to talk to him.

NOBARA - ✦

goodness me.. nobara doesnt know how to keep her hands off y/n's fat ol booty..

she thinks she can excuse herself because shes "just a girl and girls can always feel up their friends butt whenever they want to" (her exact words) of course, because of her totally convincing tone, y/n doesnt think anything of the close and personal touching nobara does.

nobara LOVES grabbing handfuls of y/n's ass and wobbling it in her hands. making sure to take in every jiggle it produced.

INUMAKI - ᰔ

y/n is EXTREMELY lucky inumaki isnt such a freak, cs if he was, he would be commanding him to make it clap every second of the day.

inumaki isnt as handy as the others are, in fact, hes the most calmest of the bunch. but he does have his moments where he just cant help himself and starts to mess around with y/n. such as commanding him to grab something off the floor even if he was the one to drop it in the first place.

seeing y/n's arched back and his ass swaying back and forth just makes inumaki go into a frenzy. wishing he could act out everything hes ever thought of doing to you.

MAKI - ᰔ

LORD.. maki has absolutely ZERO shame in her body when it comes to y/n's fat ass. shes constantly hitting on him and fitting both of her hands around y/n's juicy and perky booty.

shes constantly making sex jokes between her and y/n and even goes behind to give him some "practice backshots".

maki makes absolute SURE that y/n's ass is constantly in perfect condition, even going as far as to carry a measuring tape to keep data on y/n's ass to see if it has grown or not.

definitely safe to say that she is very.. VERY... dedicated to the research of y/n's voluptuous booty..

YUUTA - ᰔ

im tired of ppl trying to play yuuta as a "sweet summer child", this man is DOWN for a BIG, JUICY FAT ASS like y/n's.

although he does get a bit nervous when hes around y/n due to his ass being so big it can make him hard just by one small movement.

yuuta is always taking the chances to feel up on y/n's bottom. if hes lucky enough, y/n will give yuuta special permission to lay his head of his butt.

which, safe to say, has made itself a special memory inside yuuta's brain.

[liliewrites]

So reader is childhood frnds with both arle & clervie(we can't forget this girlie), but like reader has this talent that lets her blend into the background with no one knowing like she's even there. This trio literally stick tgt everyday like if someone sees 1 of them they know the other 2 aint that far behind. So reader & arle had this obvious crush on each other(not that they r gonna say anything but its so obvious to eveyone who saw them cus they r kids). Reader then got sent to Fontaine from Snezhnaya to snoop around for info (this is b4 KingMaking). So while reader is snooping for info, KingMaking happens as canon & arle tried to find reader after she became a harbinger cus like she lost clervie alrdy & she just wants to know reader is still safe ya know. But like obviously arle couldn't find cus reader's talent of 'blending' works damm well. So arle got transferred to Fontaine for the gnosis, happened to find reader by 100% coincidence while on a walk, grabbed reader, carried her all the way to the hearth, had a VERY long conversation about what happened & decided to finally confessed to reader about the crush that has never fade despite being separated for so long.

💫anon

HALLLLOOOOOOOO 💫 ANON:DD i hope i do ur ask justice n feed all of u the good ol' slowburn n mutual pining w arlecchino:DD eat up!! also, i changed smth a little bit for the sake of the plot if u don't mind, but overall, it shouldn't make too much of a difference! tyy for requestingggg!! i feel like this isn't my best portrayal of arlecchino though huhuawkajdwas

-warning/s ; maybe ooc, clervie's death mentioned.

-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader

(men please dni utc!)

peruere didn't know what to do.

peruere didn't know that the last word's clervie to you would be "byebye, y/n! make sure to come back home safely, okay??"

peruere stared at her hands with an absent stare, her mind in full delirium as she just realized the atrocities she'd just commit. the children of the house of the hearth has fallen- and she was the only one left.. along with you. knowing her mother, she knew what she had done to clervie would eventually happen to you.

she wasn't going to lose you too.

thankfully, you were currently absent from the scene- as "mother" had assigned you on a mission somewhere within teyvat but she knew as soon as you came back you'd be suffering the same fate as the others if she didn't act soon enough.

her mind finally met with clarity, she picked up her sword- the very same sword that bore her sins against your friends and siblings.

the next day, you heard what had happened back at.. home. the house of the hearth was no more.

peruere had been arrested, mother crucabena had been killed by peruere. you didn't believe it at first, but when you also heard that the rest of the children had died a year prior to crucabena's death- you knew peruere had lost her wits at the last minute.

you were disoriented for a moment, unsure of what to do now that you had nowhere to come back home to, but you mostly worried about peruere. you thought of what they would do to her, you didn't want to lose her too. she's all you had left.

with a heavy heart, you never went back home. you had no choice but to use your ability to blend in within the street kids of sumeru, just so no one would recognize you especially the fatui agents that roamed the streets from time to time. you spent a few years within the streets, taking advantage of your expertise in the field of gathering information with your stealth and earned yourself a living off of it.

however, you just couldn't shake peruere out of your mind. constantly, she was on your mind like a nail lodged in your head. especially when the full moon had gleamed upon you it's blessed and gentle caress and had brought you comfort, did peruere witness it's beauty? or was she as lonely and lost as the moon in the vast darkness of it's own solitude akin to her own isolation within the confinements of her prison cell? it worried you greatly.

after a few years, you'd caught news of the newly appointed harbinger named arlecchino whom had inherited your "mother's" title, the knave.

there were different rumors that surrounded the harbinger, but they all pointed to her committing a massacre, calling her the "poor, mad and cursed" knave.

your chest thumped, you had a strong feeling you knew it was peruere yet you couldn't confirm it yet. you haven't seen any photos of the new knave, except for the fact that she's been stationed in fontaine within the newly rebuilt house of the hearth.

confirmed or not, you knew it was her-- it had to be. so you had immediately began to prepare for your trip back to fontaine with haste.

unbeknownst to you, said harbinger had been looking for you first thing when she had gotten out of prison. she knew you would have fled fontaine entirely as she had intended, but was also aware of your proficiency when it comes to hiding your identity. she knew it would be hard to find you, but she still carried on. she couldn't let the kids handle this, lest she could risk the freedom you had now from the life of being a fatui (which she hoped you had). so she could only hope, if there really was a deity out there that would hear her, that you were safe and alive and well.

you were, in fact, safe and alive and well. now you were taking your first few steps into the city of fontaine. when, honestly, as a child you've never been able to experience the city despite spending your childhood within it's region. "mother" had never let you leave the orphanage, not until you were "of age" to join the official ranks of the fatui.

you looked around, mesmerized by the people and their lavish clothing. the weather was much different from sumeru as well. despite not growing up within the city, however, you caught whiffs and scents of your favorite cakes from your childhood. truly, you may or may not be fontainian by blood, but at least you were by heart.

you spent the first few days, getting yourself to blend in within fontaine's society. you were still afraid and wary of the fatui, especially with how strict "mother" was to you which formed your impressions of the organization. eventually, after getting a place to stay, getting accustomed to the city and dressing yourself in the same clothes as them- you could now officially, once again, call yourself a fontainian.

however, the reason why you came here in the first place was still on the very top of your head, you had to see peruere no matter what. you kept your eyes open for any signs of her monotone colored hair. you kept your ears alert if you'd catch any drift of her name, peruere or arlecchino, to no avail.

you let out a sigh, feeling unsuccessful. you weren't about to give up, but decided that you should rest and call it a day. it was getting late, so you had gotten up from the bench you were sitting on to go and head back to the inn you were staying at.

.. then suddenly, you had been robbed of your sight then consciousness.

your eyes fluttered open, but your eyesight had been blurry. the first thing you've realized is that your feet was off the ground and you were being lifted up on the air. your fight response kicked in, and you had tried to wriggle your way out of your captor's grasp.

"let go of me-"

immediate silence. you knew those eyes as she looked down at you. just from her look alone, you knew she had sent you a warning to stay silent.

but that wasn't the reason why you were still, it was because of those those x shaped pupils of hers that bore into your soul that you've come to love.

".. p-peruere? is that.. you?"

she froze for awhile, before continuing on walking.

"later. we can't talk here, keep your face hidden."

you nodded, returning back to your tucked position as she carried you in her arms. you could feel your heart thumping, beating- you've never felt this way since you've last seen her.

once you've arrived at your destination, you noticed that she's brought you within a building. a private study room, it seems. she carefully placed you down on the couch, before sitting on the chair in front of you. you've finally had a full view of her, and both of you had eyes full of shock at the sight of each other.

you were the first one to shatter the silence, immediately tearing up and throwing yourself in her arms. for a while, she awkwardly placed her hand on your waist. you couldn't help but let out a fond chuckle. after all these years, she still acted as if hugging was an alien thing.

you leaned back again, sniffing. she's definitely went through a lot. the apathetic look on her face was much more hardened, more sharper. she looked intimidating, especially with her upright stance and poise of a full fledged military officer. which in her position's case, she was.

she reached out to grab your hand. feeling you, touching you, as if to make sure that you really really were alive and in front of her.

see, the knave was not one to show emotion since she was a child, and you knew that.. but the way she acted now, it bothered you.

".. what happened? where have you been?"

she asked, pulling away from you to regain her composure. her voice was much more deeper now compared to a few years ago. you couldn't help but blush at the sound of it. the way she talked, it lacked warmth, she sounded stiff and stern.

"me? why ask me- what about you?! you're a harbinger now, pers!"

you exclaimed, causing her heart to still for a moment as you called her by that affectionate nickname she hasn't heard in a while. "i'll explain to you, sit."

her way of speaking was much more commanding, more authoritative, but it didn't scare you. rather, you were astonished at how much more polished she's been after all these years.

you sat down next to her, listening to her relay to you the past events that have happened while you two have been apart. she spoke in such a way that she sounded like she was reporting a mission or an assignment, making you feel amused even more as you listened to her speak.

your peruere has really grown up a lot, hasn't she? it made you think that you were wrong, maybe she's not peruere anymore. it made sense, she was called arlecchino now. it made you feel like you've truly lost her forever.

"i see. i'm happy to hear that the tsaritsa has pardoned you, our tsaritsa is truly blessed.." you muttered, looking away as you sighed. arlecchino noticed the melancholic twinkle in your eyes, causing worry to stir within her. "is there something wrong?" she asked, yearning for you to look at her again.

she wouldn't say it out loud, but she missed you, dearly.

you were silent for a few seconds, before letting go of her hand. the look in your eyes made her feel dread-- dread at the thought that you now hate her for killing clervie, for killing "mother", for destroying the place you had once called your "home".

arlecchino was used to being called a monster, a murderer, a freak by many and she could take it.. but from you? oh, it tore her apart. she felt like she'd truly lost you for good.

you looked at her, wanting to ask her if she was still your peruere.

she reached out again, wanting to make it clear to you that it had to be done to protect you.

"do you loath-" "-my peruere?"

both of you had talked at the same time but arlecchino heard your words loud and clear. she just had to hear it again for confirmation. "..pardon?" she asked, blinking at you in confusion.

slightly embarrassed at the thought of being a grown woman whom still referred to her affectionately as "your" peruere after all these years, you really didn't want to ask again, but you needed assurance.

so in a smaller, more hushed voice, you asked again.

"are.. you still my peruere?"

".. you don't hate me?" she asked, a bit dumbfounded that out of all the things you could say, that was the first thing that came our your mouth. it should've been obvious that she's yours, she always has been and she always will be.

"why would i hate you, per- arlecchino? you're my best friend..!" you exclaimed, a bit dumbfounded for her to think that you hated her. you weren't blind to "mother's" ways of raising children. it would've happened either way.

you started to tear up a little, calling her arlecchino felt bitter to the tongue. you've waited all these years, looked for her high and low, and now that you've seen her again.. it felt like you were facing a different person.

all the fears that had built up within arlecchino through all these years had drifted away. you didn't hate her. you didn't resent her for killing clervie. for ruining everything. she was glad that you were still the same woman she loved.

she pulled you in for a hug, albeit a bit awkward, she pulled you in as close as she could. "of course. of course i'm still your peruere. just.. refrain from calling me that in public." she told you, wiping away your tears with her hand.

her hand- her hand, oh archons! "pers, what happened?!"

you exclaimed in horror, grabbing her hand and carefully examining it. you knew of her curse, and it seems that it has taken over her. "worry not. it's been years since the curse had fully manifested, i am fine now" she reassured you, then, holding your hand in hers.

".. did you mean it when you called me yours?" she immediately asked after, looking down at your intertwined fingers. her thumb swiping against yours in a soothing manner.

"why of course, pers, you're my best friend!" you told her, your cheeks becoming flushed as she held your hand in a rather.. more affectionate manner.

"no, no. what if i wanted you to call me yours in a different way?"

she then looked up at you again. her eyes were filled with conviction, with a subtle hint of desperation and enamor. "i'm a woman who's dull to the concept of loss after having witnessed many losses and failures.. but you, i've lost you once. i cannot bear to lose you again. please stay, mon amour." her voice wavered for a moment as she held on to your hand tightly. "please, y/n." her face did not show it, but with the longing stare in her eyes, the way she held at your hand. she was devastated at the thought of losing you again.

your heart broke at the sight of her. you knew, she was still your peruere. within your presence, arlecchino was gone. within your presence, she is peruere. the same one whom would eat your favorite cakes with cakes with you, the same one who would cling on to your shirt as she followed you around, the same one who'd let you use her as your blade in a fight even if she knew you were capable of fending off on your own. arlecchino wasn't asking you to stay while professing their love to you, it was peruere.

you smiled at her, leaning in to lean your forehead against hers.

"of course, pers. i'm here to stay. i've found you again, i'm never going away. i'm glad to be home." you whispered, feeling that familiar warmth from her presence that you've come to know and love. "home?" she asked, a bit curious as to what you meant. "did you mean the orphanage? the current house of the hearth is much different from what we've grown up to, mon amour." she told you, your heart fluttering at her calling you that way. "no, silly. i mean you, pers. no shelter nor place can compare to the warmth and safety that you provide." you muttered and arlecchino let out a soft sigh.

"is that so? then.. i'm glad to be your home." she closed her eyes, basking in the moment of having you near her after so many years of separation. "then i am proud to be the one you call home. for as long as these flames course through my veins, i will always keep you warm and safe." she mumbled as you closed your eyes as well, relishing in the long lost comfort you've longed for.

"still.. i'm happy that for once, my flames have brought a different feeling than fear.." "yeah.. we still have to work on your hugging though.. seriously, pers. you're bad at hugging!" "what- can you blame me? i was never one for affection!"

[elliesbm]

Mine, Yours, Ours Pt.2

Ellie x fem!bunnyhybrid!reader x abby

Tw: No thoughts just pure fuck

Cw: omegaverse (kinda), hybrid!reader, Pet play? collars, G!p ellie and abby, Suggestive themes? Smut!

Pt.1

Even with the cold air pricking at your skin you still felt hot. As Ellie rides her horse- whose name you’ve learned is shimmer- you hang onto her, your grip tight around her abdomen. You relax, basking in her warmth even though you feel as if you’d melt any second. But then you feel shimmer come to a stop, and Ellie lets out a breath as she continues through Jackson’s walls, guards nodding at her as a welcome back before closing the entrance.

You take your time and examine the large town filled with bustling streets of lively people, but you notice something. There aren’t any other hybrids, you look around in slight panic at the fact there’s no one else like you. Unlike Jackson, the WLF base had dozens of hybrids, trained and put under the care of only the most trained and trusted worthy soldiers. Although there are untrained hybrids, they’re mostly just there for emotional support and “company” or just for soldiers who wanted a challenge with training their own hybrid.

Thats how you ended up with abby, she had wanted to challenge herself and train her own hybrid, so when she went to get a Hybrid after finally proving herself worthy and spotted you, she did everything but what she originally wanted to do when she got you. Instead of training you to be the strongest guard hybrid, she spoiled you rotten. She went out of her way to get anything she thought you might like when she was out on patrol, hell, she went to different hybrid supply stores just to find the comfiest highest quality collar for you. You were her baby bun, her pretty princess that she showed off and showered affection on with joy.

And you loved her, relished in her affection and showed her nothing but obedience in exchange. You were always on your best behavior with her, and she’d always praised you for it. She would reward you every time you behaved- oh how you loved her rewards. ‘Abby grinned as she looked down at your whimpering form, she had you pinned to the bed, hands gripping your thighs pushing them even further to your head, she had your legs folded till your knees reached your shoulders.

Her throbbing long fat cock had you weak, her pine and rain scent already had your mind clouded but this? Her cock resting atop your dripping wet cunt- that continued to clench around nothing- the sight of the tip hypnotizing you, it aimed straight at your face. It stared at you as if taunting you, it’s tip dripping with precum, landing on your glistening cunt adding to your wetness, making you even more needy then you already were.

Abby smiles noticing this “barley even touched ya n’yer already dripping for me. J’st a slutty lil thing aint ya bun?” Abby said with a teasing smile, you whine your cotton tail twitching and ears drooping, your clouded mind wanting nothing but to be plowed by her fat cock. “Abbs pleasss ngh- need ur cock n’me-“ you whined out but were interrupted by Abby entering your cunt in one slow deep thrust, her action causing you to let out a whorish moan, abby smirked, oh how she loved catching you off guard.

She pounded into you nonstop, her fat cock splitting your cunt in half, even though you’ve been fucked several times you still can’t get accommodated to it.

With each thrust of her hip you moan, whine, and chant her name. Her big thick muscular hand pinching and rubbing at your clit as she thrusts, her hips speed up, surely bruising your ass, your thighs too with how hard she’s gripping them with her other arm wrapped around them holding them in place. You’re practically vibrating, feeling as if you’re in an earthquake with how much your body shakes underneath her.

You suddenly let out a loud whine and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your high coming, you feel abby’s cock pulse and throb and twitch inside you, her cock rubbing against the pulsing walls of your cunt getting ready to blow her load into your womb after making you cum, her hips speed up and the sheer force of her hips against your ass causes a stinging pain, but the pleasure your receiving drowns it out- or maybe the pain adds to the pleasure- you don’t know or care, all you know is that you’re about to cum.

With one final slam of her hips, your ears shoot up, cotton tail tensing as you cum hard, your vision turns white as you let out a deep guttural moan, only for it to turn high pitched when you feel her hot cum shooting into your-‘

“Y/n! Hey, hey, you good bun?” Ellie asked with a worried look on her face, gosh that nickname made you whimper. You hadn’t even noticed you guys got off shimmer and had entered her home. You start to daze off again but ellie snaps you out of it.

“Hey, hey. None of that ya hear me? W’s wrong babe?” Ellie asked before pausing and scoffing at her stupid question,already knowing the answer, instead she grabs you and lays your weak form on the bed getting up to get a cold rag for you, only to be stopped by you gripping her sleeve. “W’sa matter?” Ellie asked, and you open your mouth to speak only for a moan to slip out as another heat wave hits you.

“Fuck..” ellie mutters, “i’ll be back bun i promise.” Ellie says weakly with lust in her voice and gets up to get the cold rag. You whine at the loss of her presence, impatiently waiting for her to come back, and possibly plow you into another dimension.

Next Previous

[night-dazai]

Ex's -FWB (Gojo x Reader X Geto)

Summary: You have dated both of them and fucked both of them individually but what if you get the chance to fuck them at the same time?

Tags warnings: sex, pron with little plot, female reader, vagina fucking, tit fucking, nipple pulling and slapping, stepping on, rough sex, threesome.

I wrote this at 1 am and I am so sorry I took so long for this plus if you find any mistakes, I would like to say sorry and if any mistakes let me know will make sure to correct them in the next works. Thank you.

It was the same normal night, the four teachers and adults sat in your house drinking wine while chatting mostly Gojo chatting on and Utahime arguing back as you and Geto watched like parents.

“I am so used to people arguing I will never find it amusing again, “ you said sipping your wine while Geto laughed “ kinda true “ 

Gojo turned his frowning face towards you, these nights when it is just you guys relaxing he does not wear blind or any glasses “Huh!” he said in a high-pitched voice mouth pulled up in smug annoyance “Well then what will amuse you “ he asked trying to sound like a gangster. 

You and Geto could not hold in the giggles as Gojo imitated his high school self “Well cause I hear this fight same fight as to what series is good every weekend and you still want me to find people fighting amusing or even a bit interesting “ you said shrugging your shoulders.

Geto joined “True, at max annoyed is what we will feel “ he said taking a bite of the expensive cheese. All 3 special grade soccer and one semi-grade 1 all rich people unwinding on a weekend after hard work. 

Utahime wanted to add on when her phone rang disturbing the playful fight seeing the caller ID made her face curl up with annoyance with disgust “That guy..” she mumbled as Gojo took her personal space towering over her head “The great MR. fucked up ?” he said in a mocking tone “ shut it, you aint any better “ she spat at him and cut the call. 

Your conversations were interrupted by Utahime’s phones ringing continuously and after a point she turned it off and in a few seconds your phones rang “Hello?” you asked answering Megumi. 

Your face frowned in anger after talking for a minute “Leave them alone we are coming “ you said and went silent the next second balling your fists you spoke again “She. will. Come “You cut the call. 

Anger is visible in your action “The kids in school are being troubled by your ex, and they are scared to do anything to him cause he is a normal human plus he has been pulling at Nobara and Megumi is pissed “.

Utahime said nothing finishing her glass she took her phone and bag kissed you and Geto a goodbye “ fuck off” to Gojo and rushed out as you shouted “ If you want us , call “ and all she did was wave back before closing the front door. 

The lovely peaceful time you guys have every Sunday is broken “tch” Geto murmured but due to the complete silence, it was heard loud and clear. “Oi, don't get so mad I thought she was your ex? “Gojo said playing with a grape near his lip.

“She is but she is still my friend and that's the guy no matter how much I told her she choose that piece of shit and now the school is troubled “he ran his hand through his thick locks untangling two knots. 

“Well, then have you guys wondered one thing “ you say grabbing their attention and trying to distract yourself from the annoyed feeling “We all have dated each other but still manage to be such lovely friends” Your smile so pure not like your thoughts (for now ).

Gojo and Geto stare at you for 2 seconds blinking and suddenly burst out laughing “Wha..what” you asked confused by their sudden behaviours “Well sweetheart, lovely friends? your boobs are sure my friends “ Gojo said laughing to his heart's content “When she broke up with him I was the one comforting her that night “Geto said smirking. 

You blinked, confused “Is it the wine and beer we had before ? or are they drunk? “ you thought (yep! both are drunk out of their minds , while you still have some rationality left. )  “You are saying you are still close to me cause of my body ?” the answer was obvious but you wanted an answer. 

Was the alcohol getting to your head not sure but you felt hot, geto had his chin on his hand which rested gracefully on his knee “Well not sure what do you think ?” he asked voice oozing with lust “Well I sure am gonna say yes” Gojo said spreading his legs open leaning back. Both were dominating the room and you felt suffocated …but it felt good. 

How long has it been since you were in a relationship? how long has it been since you last touched your pussy? Maybe…

You got up and opened your glass window revealing the beautiful city lights  “The city where we all are, we protect it, we created it and why not show it something new “ you said turning with a sly look. 

You were nervous about what you were about to do, you were so sober you were thinking of excuses you would say in the morning. Having slept with Gojo and Geto individually you know how the fuck you soo good like the slut you wanted to be treated as. 

You removed the knot of your floral frock letting it open like a bathroom “Good thing I wore this dress” you thought. You could notice their smiles getting bigger and so did their eyes scanning you “Why not try …” your bra is removed “ new and “ your panties thrown where your other clothes are “ fun” You were on the floor pinching your nipples and legs wide open “ not interested?” you asked voice low and soft you knew both liked it that way.

Geto leaned back smiling “Well first let's see how the dog wants to be treated, “ he said removing his belt, “What a sight Utahime missed a nice time”,  Gojo said getting up and moving closer to you “Well well this is a sight suguu look at this bitch cunt leaking”. His legs brushed your slit, making you flinch and whimper.

It's been so long it felt so good you pinched your nipples hard when Gojo pushed his foot at your entrance with force “Like getting stepped on?” he kneeled and spread your folds with his hands “Hello been a while since I came here “ he said fingers running up and down but never going in like you wanted. “Beg,” Gojo whispered in your ear got up and went back to his seat releasing his hard cock “Come on here, princess “ 

As you crawled to him on all fours you noticed that Suguruhas already has his cock out and stroking it the tip flushed red “Be a good girl and serve him “ he said leaning back. 

No matter how much of a strong person you were with the curses you had always had someone to take charge in your relationship life, none of your partners could do it but these two did it so well, maybe a bit too well and it affected your work. 

“But what can go wrong with just casual sex ?” you thought and nuzzled your face on Gojo’s tigh “Go on, “ he said as you started licking and massaging his balls. The scent of the dick you missed made your head mushy “Wow you really like this don't you ?” his white hair stuck to his forehead as he licked his lips pushing your head further down. 

Your windpipe felt hot and tiny keeping your hands on his thighs you kept breathing through your nose “Let her breathe Satoru “ Geto’s gentle voice made you open your eyes “ MUH!” you yelped with your mouth stuffed with a dick as your ass turned red under the impact of his hand “ lift “ he ordered. 

You got on all fours shaking your ass as his hands gripped it with a bruising hold “It has been soo long “ he said rubbing the tip on the clit making you see stars. You were throbbing yet having your mouth stuffed itself felt too full now, you tried to push against his abdomen “Nah princess” he said grabbing your hands and locking them on your small back. 

There is not much of a height difference but you did kinda look small compared to them, his tip slipped slowly into you stretching the tight cunt while your mouth was being abused with Gojo’s strong thrust as he searched his high. 

“Ahhh~ so good, you have no idea how I missed this dirty slut “ he said pushing the snow-white strands of hair from his wet forehead “Deeper baby going to cum “ he purred thrusts getting sloppier. Your jaw hurt but little did that matter when Geto was busy thrusting his hips at a rough pace. 

His grip on your hand had you in one place unable to move you just let them take you any way they wanted, mouth drooling with pre-cum and drool, pussy dripping with your cum and juices “Come on girl you have cum once now wait “ he said in a threatening voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Don't spill “ the white-haired man above you said before shooting his load down your throat. The thick salty substance flowed down your warm neck “Wow, your skills are not rusty at all “ he smirked. 

His long pale fingers snaked to your clit as his friend's dick abused, he started rubbing your clit at the same time while pinching your nipples the calloused hands felt soo rough but yet good on your soft skin. 

“Ge..geto~” you mumbled almost in a whisper “Yeah dear”, his sweat-dripping face with his long black hair loose just made you want to cum on the spot but being the good girl you were you asked for permission “No dear not yet, “ he said at the same time Satour pinched your clit hard making you yelp.

“Come on listen to him “ he murmured rubbing soothing circles making you moan feeling you high close “Please” you begged again “Change “ Geto mumbled and in a second you were leaning back on the chair satour once sat with your legs spread open while your hole is empty. 

You were high lost and the feeling of hands on you lost “Why.~” you asked in a whiny voice “Open “ Gojo ordered pumping his shaft at your entrance “Good girl “ he mumbled going in one go. It was thick and long, you could never get used to it “I am going to get more condoms “ Geto said pulling his pants up again as Gojo just nodded his head in acknowledgement. 

TIME SKIP

How many times have you come? no idea? Pain? pleasure? not sure, no you wanted dick and dick was all you could think, Gojo was thrusting at a rough pace while ghetto used your soft plush tits to rub more of your cum on his dick. 

Your whole body was covered in cum and sweat as the two had their way with you, your eyes rolling back, tongue out hanging while the thrusts did not stop “Focus love” Geto brought you back by pinching your nipples hard. 

At this point they felt kinda painful yet there was a kind of pleasure in the numb feeling you moaned “ she last her voice. “ Gojo asked in a mocking tone looking down at you. After a few more thrusts he shoots his load in, your walls still somehow could clench around him grunting he pulled out and watched “Ohh ~~”. 

Body bruised in purpler and red hickeys and hand marks, cum and sweat covered your soft skin you lay on the carpeted floor panting trying to focus your eyes, unable to they closed as you went into to sleep. Your surroundings are covered in your discarded clothes and used condoms.

Seeing your breath even out both smiled “She must be very tired, fucking her raw was a bit too much I even bought the condoms “ Geto said carrying you in princess style to the bathroom with Gojo at his heel “Well yeah we fucked her good “ he said still looking at the leaking cum covering your cunt and ass in white “ enough we went too rough on her “ his friend warned him as. 

After cleaning you and putting you in your bed “I think we know what we are now right ?” Gojo asked drying his hair “Yeah,  maybe we should have fucked her soon?” Geto asked looking at you with his chin resting on his hands, his long black hair loose “She sure was a good slut “ he murmured kissing your forehead “Good night princess “.

[nanaminsonyfans]

I saw your ask for requests and i desperately want Billy butcher content so I tried to think of something lol. I’m more sure if you like writing series or one shots or whatever but take from this what you want?

The reader has unknowingly caught Billy butchers eye after being at many of the same functions he’s been at for work. Reader also has a hatred of the unjust world of supes and independently has been gathering useful intel but not entirely sure how to use it. Butcher gets suspicious of reader and begins to keep tabs on her, eventually approaching her and perhaps threatening to know what she’s up to/what she’s using the intel for (however you want to spin that). The boys decide she’s a risk and take her back to their hideout where Billy butcher and reader eventually form a bond, bonding over least favorite supes and reader getting teased

Perhaps fragile, innocent (not extreme in the cringe sense) reader. Include some blushing haha

Not the best request ever I’m still tryna get my imagination back.. but would love romance and eventual smut

a/n; this is sorta just a starter? if theres more interest i'll def try a series.

warnings; swearings that's about it.

—

Great Minds

You despised Supes. They were awful people, you learnt it the hard way when you say your mother be killed by one. It was an "accident" Vought said. It was to save others. Homelander blasted through five people to get to the criminal, people sliced in half by his laser beams. That's when you stopped believing that they were "heroes". Sure they were super, but if the face of the supes was a piece of shit, they all probably were.

Now you weren't physically strong, you mentally you were. You were able to gather intel on an arrangement of supes, mostly for people who wanted to get back at them so it was easy to blackmail or sue. You knew the deep dark underbelly of it all. You went to some functions disguised as a reporter, however you always got the sense you were being watched. Not just by supes, but something else, something that felt darker....

One night, you came home from the store, something felt off though. Being in New York where practically everyone was a target for hate, you were armed. You reached into your bag and pulled out a small revolver as you walked into your apartment. You aimed it at the corner where you saw two figures, then there was a click of the lamp being turned on. There was a man in a trench coat and a younger guy who looked terrified at you pointing the gun. "I-I didnt wanna break in he dragged me-!" He says and held up his hands.

"Who the fuck are you two and what the fuck do you want and WHY the FUCK are you in my house!?" You yell pointing the gun between the two. "Calm down luv. Just here to talk." The older man says standing up slowly and throwing a file on the coffee table. "You and I got some of the same interests." He hums, relaxed snd obviously not threatened by you at all. "Been noticin' ya, which ain't good if you want to be unnoticed by supes." "The fuck you know about me." You say lowering your gun slowly. "I know you blackmail them and gather shit. We could use some of your intelligence." he says. You raise an eyebrow. "Intelligence? For what?" He stepped closer, looking down at you. "Against the supes. see you and me want the same thing, to get that cunt Homelander." You snorted slightly at him saying "cunt".

"Yeah? Like you can do that. Some British guy is gonna kill america's sweetheart superhero. Sure. And whats your little mouse friend gonna do?" You ask taking off your coat, no longer feeling threatened. "Mouse...?" The boy says with a frown. "Listen luv, aint like you got a choice." "Excuse me?" "I have a team. It's better for you to join us. We can take down Homelander, and all supes." "Who even are you?" "Billy Butcher." Billy says with a smirk. It all clicked. You've heard of this psycho, crazy about killing supes. You took a deep breath. "Fine. But only because that kid looks way on over his fucking head." "Good choice luv."

[captain-n-crunchies]

My Baby Boo

Yan! Ghost x Black Hoochie mam Reader

( Inspo for makeup and how I beileve she'll kinda look but it just inspo)

Moving from Memphis to the quite little city of Nothern Montana was a pretty start, from my own mama judging my dreams of being a biochemical engineer to my daddy being my only hero against my mama wrath of " All you going to be is pregnant and 23 Y/n! Just get a regular job a nurse or fast-food worker and quit this science shit!" My mama wanted to be a doctor since she was a kid, till she fooled around with my daddy and fucked it up! Now I gotta be the one to get all her anger! I mean if you told 15-year-old me I'd have a Master's degree of Biochemistry with a paid internship!? AND I moved to across the states to achieve my dream only at 25? I wouldn't believe you.

I've being living in the quite neighborhood for a good 3 months before all this shit happened let's go from the day I moved in.

*Flashback*

" Alrighty ma'am you all set, need anything?"

" Nah I'm but, thank you for helping me mister?

" Fred, sugar just calls me Fred"

" Well thank you Fred... You can gon on now"

I guess he was taken backed he just walked away no bye or nothing! His rude ass. Walking into my house I begin to stay unpacking, my bed was a little late gettin here buttt I got my living room and kitchen down so far when I heard a thud

*THUD*

" Now what the-"

*THUD THUD*

" Oh hell nah, MISTER FRED!"

I jog out the house to see Fred sitting on his rocking chair, I asked him about the house and hearing hard ass thuds and his old ass tells me it probably the squirrels scratching.

" Why you ain't tell me that when buying the house?

" Because it wasn't important then! Look the squirrels like peanut butter bye some and put it out to lead them out na"

I just look at him and I turn, and I thought I saw eyes peeking at me, but I just shake it off, and I ask him just to check it out. He heads to his garage for a ladder and trails me to my house only looking at my ass though, fuckin pervert.

" Hey! Go up there and see about the squirrels!"

" Huh- Ok ok I'm goin I'm goin...reminds me of Hellen.."

He climbs up the ladder and knocks on the wood

" Hm, Hey there girlie there ain't no holes for no squirrels up here

" What you mean? I heard a thud twice by now they probably in the house"

" No siree they aint nowhere without a way to get out, you just heard the house settle I'm guessin"

That wasn't no house settling, a house settling is like a creak not a loud ass thud like I dropped something! I see Fred old ass walk back into his house and I just go inside checking every but of the house, strange enough I set my phone down on the counter and it missing? I found it in the living room but I haven't been in there yet?

She's gorgeous... she a doll even! Pretty skin, her teeth glimmers with jewels and that voice so silky yet firm, she looks like Meleesa... my dear! My darling has come back to reach me from the heavens! Has God forsaken my body to never touch her again? To see her walk around for other to touch the skin of deity for everyone to be able to talk to her without a worry she runs and screams from me? I'll make her minds for she was my golden egg, my baby... I hope she still yearns for me in my state.

It's been a hot minute since I heard something and I finally have my place set, it a tiny bedroom but my vanity and bed fills it perfectly! It's about 9 something and I'm watching some movie on Netflix when I feel a chill, getting up to turn my heat on a see a note on my counter

" My baby, has been a long time since I see that smile of your, heard the soften voice, and smelled your devious scent. I see how you look very different from our last meeting, you've filled up quite nicely; later in the night I will watch you again, I will smell your scent and keep wanting to touch you like I once did. Til I met you again- Your Boo"

What type of mostly ghostly bullshit is going on! I look around and feel another chill as I turn on the heat and turn all all the light, fuck my bill I'll be cool! Running into my room I lock my door and turn on all my light and even the tv, I sit in my bed in my shorts and cami and I ask my friend if she can call, I don't know why I keep her around but she answer and I tell her everything including how Fred didnt tell me about the house.

" Girl I told you don't move nowhere that didn't have niggas til the 1700s!'

" Thats not important! What is that I got some Micheal Myers nigga trying get me!"

" Did it say who it was from?"

" No, it was signed My boo, ian have my boyfriend since FAMU"

" He funny at least"

" Now what so funny about me getting stalked?"

" He signed it my boo, and he's a ghost if you didn't see nobody and what ghost say? Boo! He funny!"

I stare at my phone, and I hang up NOT in the mood. I turn on some music and I just distract myself fixing my hair, painting my toes, anything when I heard water running in my bathroom, walking in there I see the mirror fogs with a message, ' She's quite clever dearest, maybe you should listen to your friends' words- Your Boo'

" Ok...OK I GET IT!" I yell getting anxious that some freaky ass ghost is calling me his dearest! MY DADDY DONT EVEN DO THAT MUCH! With this ghost here I run other the bathroom and lock the door to my room, taking the key and I just run to my car. I unlock my car and drove to the nearest hotel and just crash there for a few days, maybe ghost die if it no one to haunt right? As I drive, I heard a chime on my phone, then another, then a flood of chimes and I stop to check; all the messages from the same number talking about how I can't run, I have no one in this city, I have to come home soon, and he'll be waiting...all signed my boo. I turn off my phone and finds a hotel and pays for two nights, only in my night clothes I sleep for the night, and I prayed I still had some clothes in my car, luckily I had a few clothes and some body care, after a quick shower I head to bed with the lights on and my mind full.

How dare she! Has she no care what she leaves with! I show her care I fix the house; I chased Fred away with my bare hands all for her and THIS is my payment! My dearest must forget her punishments were all but nice with me. But I can't hurt her... no not ever again will I drain the life from her body, never again will I force her gaze upon my bloodshed, no... no will I force my hand to bruise a deity's skin. She cursed me that til I let her go I will never pass... I won't let her go, even if she takes her life, I will bring her back, I make her into me! A lost soul wandering this planet, YES! if I make her agree with my love at the next moon I can... NO! Have I lost my mind! Her skin will fade, her bones will break, her voice will turn to whispers... it's not worth it I WONT EVER AGAIN! It happened once and I failed her but it another chance... I will get her back.

Back in this spooky ass house again. It's been a few days week even and I tried to get Fred to check it out but all he does is ignore me, in my room set up camera around the house and hook it too my computer so that I can catch this creep, it was late today 12:45 am it was thundering today, in my room I scroll on my phone with the tv on some movie, I felt a chill... the same chill. I get get up and back to my door looking around

" OK DAMMIT! SHOW YOUR DAMN SELF OR I'LL BREAK MY FOOT UP YA-"

" So violent my love~"

I look around til a feather of a hand touches my cheek, jerking away I turn too see a pale man... see through even with a evil smile and a a stature shaped from God

" Oh my..."

"Hello, my dearest, I hope your aren't too mad at me for our last encounter"

" Who are-"

" As your friend said, your boo~"

It seems you've pasted out, never the matter it will be best your out for the evening. So much to do with a the body you claimed now Melessa... Hello my beautiful baby~

A.N: ( Ouuu not me making a creepy character , i know yall thought I couldn't do huh! I just be writing too yall, I mean I started this at 6 sum and it's 10... like I said Im Shakesphere! But hope yall like this and it more to come from our ghost companion! LOve y'all! MWAHH)

[helloescapist]

Hi ! Sorry if this request is a little ehh yk since i aint so good at this but your writing absolutely amazes me so .

would you consider a request kinda suggestion thing thats like . A shinobu x gn reader that where friends (mostly around their training for the final selection) but just after that they just dissapeared completely , but like after 4 years they accidentaly reunite when the reader is sent to the butterfly state for medical attention . kinda hurt comfort yk ? If you dont like it feel free to ignore it !

hello, hello!

Can we talk about how cute moments in the training years with Shinobu would be? When she wasn't tied to the duties of the Insect Hashira, and just allouwed to be fiesty? She would be a total terror on the Butterfly Estate!

Anyways, thank you for your sweet words. <3 I did my best with this one, and I hope it meets your expectations. (I admittedly, may play with fluff prompts of all of the hashiras in their training days because.. it just sounds adorable). I'm sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted ot be sure my research for the weapon and techniques would be useful and insync with one another.

What Remains | Shinobu Kocho

Word Count: 2508?

Setting: Shinobu Kocho x gn!reader [friend fic, but if you squint underlining pining]

Content Warning(s): gore/blood, mentions of death, and depression, minor spoilers if you are not familiar with Shinobus past

Summary: caught in a battle with a worhty advisory and the tilt of fate no longer in your favor, you reflect upon the friend you have left behind in your youth and fears. Regrets that threaten to follow you to the grave. You would do anything to piece back together what remains of the friendship you fled so many hears ago.

A/N: the reader’s staff is inspired by a silambam staff originating from Southern India. I highly recommend looking up the history if you have the time. The inspiration for the original breathing is from the, if you can believe it, mother of pearl (Nacre), the inner lining of shells used by some species of molluscs.

Blood spattered the side of your brow, dripped down the lining of your draw. The tinge of metallic searing your nose, blinding your senses. It had been years since someone had successfully penetrated your barrier.

The weight of your faithful staff balanced between your dominate arm, curled around your forearm and the end pressed against your back. Knees bent beneath you as the force of air shattered your lungs.  Heaved in the sharp breath of oxygen, struggled against cracked ribs, the burden of your weapon beginning to wear upon your body over the extended period of use. The battle had waged far longer than you had anticipated, nor had you expected your opponent to be such a troublesome demon. It had been years since you questioned the reliability of your weapon, and felt the strain upon your muscles. Ligaments strained under the weight. Trembled your grasp, revealing the exhaustion tumbled over your form. When was the last time you doubted your abilities in combat? Pondered the resolve of your might in battle. Your breathing technique had become renowned for its capabilities. Had received praise for being a fortress, impenetrable. Though you certainly knew the limitations of its uses—this had not been the first time you had found an enemy in close range despite the protective field of your breathing. The curl of a growl shattered across your back, the metallic swing, the draw of your staff curled around your sides. The tilt of your hips into the sway, catching the draw of claws that threatened to pierce your skin once more. The iridescent of your breathing technique catching the dying stars of night. The wet grass beneath your feet stumbling your normally tight form, the slick beneath your sandals offered little traction. Ah, no, this had not been the first time someone had penetrated your defenses, distant memories of your younger years toyed in your mind as your body ran on instinct.

She had been small, adorably so. Standing significantly shorter than your peers for her age, her weight provided little substance to her bones. As though a butterfly that had been carried upon Himejima-sensei’s shoulders. Regardless of the way she furrowed. Her scowl noticeable despite her older sister’s insistence to cool her temper, her tongue remarkably sharp despite her age. At a glance, one would assume that the smaller girl had been younger than expected. Teased by the other students for her less than remarkable stature, humorous in comparison to the gentle giant who instructed your techniques. Over saw your manners, and guided you through training under the Demon Crops care. Though, you knew better than anyone as having been a longtime student, Himejima-sensei neither cared if any of you went on to be slayers. Rather, the distant burdens of a forgotten past had strengthened his mentor resolve. Insured that the children under his care would not leave his protection until they were capable of fending for themselves, the tears he shed at those who had departed upon new lives, and the comfort for those who remained—yet, for all of his kindness, this little brat spat out words wielded by drunken adults. The vein upon her brow throbbing as she spat out curse after curse, Shinobu’s temper triggered by the littles of infringements. This time having resulted from another student commenting on her stature, a noted sore spot evident in how she had pursued the source. Slammed him to the ground, crawled on top of him, and flinging her fists in all the might she could muster, only swayed from her assault by her older sister’s obvious disappointment and soothing words. You had begun to wonder if the younger Kocho had a sense of restraint, often pondered how it was two beings so unlike one another could in fact be blood relatives.

                That day had been the final straw for you. Drawn from the disrespect the younger Kocho had once again inflicted upon your instructor, you had challenged her to a match. Her over confidence having met you head on, so sure of herself despite the fact that a rationed bag of rice in the store house weighed more than she had—you knew this, had born witness to Shinobu’s attempts to heave it into the storage before being crushed beneath its weight. Yet, despite the fact that she was nearly a foot shorter than yourself, and severely under her weight class, the dagger wielder had met you head on. Resilient despite the ways you popped her repeatedly. Speed, in practice you had noticed how fast the younger girl had been on her feet. Honestly, it was likely the only reason she had ever gotten the jump on any of the other students, but not this time. The practice stick pressed between your hands, swirled in each movement, any attempts to out maneuver you quickly thwarted with a pop of bamboo upon her cranium. The loss of the match staining her pride, and driving her forward. Training had become a pass time less spent crucifying her peers, but truly immersed in instruction. Her temper only making her slopping and agitated, yet she persisted. Swat after pop, after jab, time after time. Regardless of the way you swept the feet beneath her frame, plopped disgracefully upon her bottom. The sparing matches would wage over weeks. Each encounter drawing your chuckles, for all of her wit and her rage, the younger trainee was playful. Determined, a trait you rarely saw in your peers, and before you had known it, you had welcomed these sparing matches. At times, she would catch you by surprise, and others, you were able predict. Drawing forth snacks to place upon the veranda before meeting her practice blade. The distinct smack of your staff across her cheek resulting in the cool of a pack pressed against flesh. The mumbling of frustration between small pursed lips, and amethyst eyes that glanced at you in her pout, the smile you provided soothing as you offered her a treat.  In time and under instruction, Shinobu would learn to utilize her strengths in battle, and when she had done so, she had become a worthy rival. One quick to seize opportunities, to slip between the cracks your swings. Tumble her small frame against your height, the close encounters drawing the swept of your brow. The triumph of her laugh, upon the smack of your bottom across the ground. The first time she had ever bested you, drawing the joy of hard work, and a ridiculous dance. Her small hips wiggled beneath her hakama. Trembled as she shook her hands together before stretching them to the sky. Proud. She had been so proud, and you found yourself laughing aloud when she offered her hand to your own.

Days of sneaking upon the butterfly estate echoed through your mind. Mischievous kids that evaded duty and medicinal instruction offered by the older Kocho, Shinobu flying over the small ownings, while you lifted yourself through the air with the plant of your staff to the ground. Laughter upon the obvious scolding of kakushi insisting you to return your duties, abandoned to the wind in favor of dango stalls. To hear the Wind Hashira openly scold you, for dodging the Flower Hashira’s care. The whelp upon your heads that had grown in place of his righteous smack, the blush that painted his cheeks when Kanae attempted to sooth his ire. Not that he nor her had ever admitted to such affections, and it never lasted long. The slip of Shinobu’s tongue only eliciting another outburst from the swordsman. Pressed fingers of the older girl keeping him in place, as you dashed down hallways. Weaved past kakushi and slayers alike, snuck castella cakes from the kitchens, and played in the trees of the gardens. Partners in crime joined at the hips through your training years, unafraid to wreak havoc across the Butterfly Estate. The pride Kanae had expressed upon your passing of the final selection. Touched clothes to your cheek, evaluated the strain upon your wounds. Both of your bodies tumbled through thickets of wisteria, rattled against rivals. Pride beaming form your features, equipped to take on the world despite the sting of antiseptic pressed against your cheeks. Prayed for the moment to never end. TO disappear in to the folds of time, to remain upon such happy memories… Her smile. Y-you could remember how Kanae had beamed at you. Accepting, and warm, the night the smile had slipped from her lips. Blood that painted the night air, the chuckle and nauseauty joy of rainbow eyes that elicited humor at your suffering. The loosening of her haori drawn in battle, discarded as a means of escape for you. She knew. Damn it, she had known, the blood drawn, the soothing sound of her voice as though she were comforting a child. Y-you hadn’t been a child! You had a duty! To the Corps, to the Flower Hashira who had requested you for this vary mission. To Shinobu who awaited your arrival at home. Little of your protest mattered. The slam across your head, the fading of the sky before you, and the haori that fluttered over your shoulders before you collapsed to the ground.

                You never got to apologize. How could you? When you had awoken, you had seen the shatter of her tears. The kakushi had founded your body practically discarded in the woods, the haori painted over your shoulders. Unable to fend off the chill of your body. Evidence of the battle, blood marred across the mountain terrain. Shattered over trees, yet, no remains to be found other than your own. Overheard horrors of the night like a ghost upon your flesh. Sickened and nauseated. Pressed between vomit that threatened to spill as your heart plummeted to the grave. The slip of the burdened haori revealing your sins as it sunk to the ground. Your feet eliciting a response before thought. Run. Run. RUN. Tripped over boulders, stumbled over branches, and fallen trees, the distant shouts of kakushi falling upon ears of the dead alone. Heedless of the blood that caught against branches, nor the tarnished of your uniform across your form, revealing peeks of skin as you fled into the day. Fled from your duties. From your home. From your friend.

The staff drawn between practiced hands. Fingers that ached and had become slashed open by opportunistic claws. The growl in your ear, and the fatigue that drew upon your brow. I’m going to die, whispered upon your thoughts. Numb realization as the iridescent gleam that captivated your staff shattered over nails. Colors that faded across the spectrum of a rainbow, glistened in their resolve. Just a little more, you told yourself. The meadow drawn upon little shade, the distant shatter of night in the distance of the east. Colors that shooed away the late hours, and the tremble of large eyes against your opponent, desperate to get away. The shake of your smile as you seized your staff upon their back, entrapping them against your chest. “Fourth Form, Inner Shell,” hissed against your teeth. The revolt of bones, the demon becoming increasingly fringed upon the break of day. Desperate to escape the light, the encompassing of your breath. Draws of color that folded over the two of you. Shattered your bones together in a sickening crunch. Illuminating the last touches of the night sky as blood drew from the force of two bodies forced together as bones snapped. Your fortress utilized as a steel trap. For the both of you.

                Shinobu, I wish… I’m- I’m so sorry.

Voices echoed through the passage of time. Demanded tools, whispered needs of bandages. Imparted details you could not quite grasp, nor completely understand. Details across a series of confusion that blurred your conscious. Ached your headache, and shunned your thoughts.  It, it really didn’t matter anymore. Told yourself it would only be a matter of time before death greeted you, escorted you into the afterlife. No, no perhaps not the afterlife. Unfinished business, your desires to see an old friend once more would likely bind you to the world. Conscious that faded in and out, drifted upon the passing of words. Some soothing and sweet, praising progress though the world seemed dark, and one such voice threatening. Scolding really, dared to reveal any and all obscure details of childhood. Peculiar, and childish. To threaten your youthful fears, regardless of how silly they had been… who would dare? Temper seethed, and… shook your shoulders? Who would treat a corpse in such manner.

Sunlight flittered over the drawings of curtains;  the nauseating smell of antiseptic greeted the flutter of your eyelashes. Your sight hazy as it swept over your environment. Having expected the embrace of death, the warm linens pressed into your surprise. Flowers tucked into cared for vases, bare antique furniture. The numb movements, testing whether or not you had in fact returned to the living, or rather trapped between the state of life and death. The tremble of your toes, testing out their existence. The draw of a white kimono pressed into your chest, the signs of the battle you had endured written across your flesh. Bandages wound tightly over weary muscles. Wrappings drawn across your ribs, snug and difficult to breathe as you attempted to fidget your fingers. Unable to properly navigate their being. Rather, unable to feel them at all. The room… the room far too familiar for your liking, though the thought was difficult to grasp. Distant memories, of laughter, and poorly bound wounds… you had never been adapt at medical care. Glimpses of a past you had left behind wrinkled into your bedding. The press of lavender hair curled upon the white bedding. Touched upon your lap. The telling curl of butterfly ribbon that threatened to shatter your heart caught upon the slightly unraveled curl of dark hair. Released from a bun that had begun to tumble in her sleep. The press of her long eyelashes into the bedding, purple hues that bordered her eyes, the small draw of her breath against your leg. Exhaustion, hours of late work having drawn upon her form. Collapsed at your side, the water basin had grown worm, as the cloth pressed between her strained fist, caught amongst the fingertips of her other hand. Your own hand, having grown numb under her strain. The Insect Hashiras fist trembled beneath her fist as her resolve to cling to your side snagged at the bandages of your fingers. Her pale complexion, illuminating of the moonlight, and the draw of her purple strands the envy of any wisteria branch. The trouble of your smile, tumbled over trembling lips. The met of your brow. To see her once more like this. To have her at your side as though no time had pass. Distant recollections of her poor bedside manners drawing an unsure smile—she had always struggled in that department. The curl of her fingers, calloused and practiced as her resolve. The worry evident in the way she curled into you, refused to release you from her hold. Nor could you bring yourself to part from her grasp.

                Words to spill. Apologies, and confessions. Heart ache, and betrayal, to bridge time lapses, and share had the years had treated you. To apologize—there were so many things you heart longed to express to her.  The soft sigh of slumber, hours of dedication in her collapse. Tears that trembled, ghosts of memories. Her laughter, her smile. Her temper. All of it within reach, and how your heart begged to see all sides of your estranged friend once more. Left with little ability to seize the closeness of yearning, the shiver of your other hand, dared to fumble through her hair. As you had so many years ago, her pride never had allowed her to confess how the Insect Hashira enjoyed having her hair soothed back. Too childish, you had understood, but in quite moments when the hours of study had drawn from your day, and sleep met her upon the veranda, you would comfort her in such ways. Smiled upon the resolve of a woman who was bound by her resolve. The quiver of your eyelashes, and the weight of tears that succumbed to gravity as you fought back the sob in the back of your throat. The curl of her bangs pressed between your fingers, as you tenderly swept her bangs from her brow. Studied the softness of her face, noted how age had captivated some of her features. Whispered prayers of gratitude to the gods who had given you one last chance. The bonds of time wearing upon your heart. You had been given, one more chance, and though you were unsure of how the passage of time, loss, and circumstances had marred your friendship, you could not help but feel relief at the sight of her so close. Within grasp, a friend your heart had desperately longed for all of these years, eternally grateful that she still remained upon this world. The care etched into your bandages, and faded memories offered the opportunity for new life. The opportunity to piece back together what remains of your friendship, or to endure her wrath… Tears that rolled upon your cheeks as you bent down, pressed your forehead to her own. Y-You would plead forgiveness, but for now.. you just..

   I missed you.

[koicrimes]

i've been reading a bit lately. mostly romance and erotica but i've read other genres like, suspense and thrillers too and i wanna issue some formal complaints about the trends I've noticed in roughly the last 20 books I've gone through:

-too many virgin fmcs. i get it. there's a lot of people out there who are virgins. i get that not everyone has experience in dating and sex. i get that but if I've read 20 books, at least 15 of the fmcs are virgins. and it's held up like some sorta virtue that differentiates her from other woman. it's very tired. where are the fmcs who are comfortably experienced before they meet their love interest??? where are the fmcs that are actually kinda slutty???

-toooo many slutty mmcs. i get it. them men be fucking out there. but if the ladies are all virgins and the men all fuckin, who are they fuckin at this point?? each other??? lmao. i dont mind mmc with sexual experience. personally, i am more attracted to people with experience. however, that is not to say that inexperienced men are somehow invalid and unappealing. why have i not come across at least ONE virgin mmc? where are the men that aint seen so much as a boob on tv??? (okay that part is a little crazy but yall get meright?)

-social/politcal (online) movement speak in narration and dialogue that have no effect on the story itself. i have a couple instances of this:

1.) the mmc's love interest was a plus sized girl and he spent like 4 pages explaining to the readers what being plus sized meant, how hard is to live in a bigger body, how there should be more clothing options for his plus sized girlie and those like her, how unfair it is, how there should be more plus sized representation, etc. And like, if the writer wanted to make a statement about that? that's fine but using him instead of her to communicate HER ISSUE??? and not only that, but going on and on about it for multiple pages at once and then additionally throughout the remainder of the story? it isn't off putting per se, more so just that it takes me out of the story because i have to listen to some man, who was described as appearing as if his body was carved in stone by the gods themselves, explain to me why me and his gf can't find good jeans in our size.

2.) the mmc assures the readers that he's actually not a misogynist bc he took a gender studies course in college and is actually kind of a feminist and will make sure we know how much of a feminist he is despite wanting to act out degrading, harsh fantasies with his love interest but it's okay because he's a feminist, promise! (if two consenting adult characters wanna bruise each other, spit in each other's mouths and call each other demeaning names, I SAY LET THEM! but i promise i don't need 50 reassurances that the guy doesn't have anything against women... or otherwise, i'll think maybe he's got something against women.)

-when the men speak about the things they love about their FLIs, they talk about them in a way that makes me feel like... they've never met a human woman with hobbies before the LI and if that was the case, it'd be cool i guess but it's not. and because it's not, it's very off putting to read these women being spoken about as if they're aliens with nice tits. a couple instances again:

1.) the mmc was somehow mindblown that his LI was good at photography when she was literally a mega famous influencer whose social media presence he was apparently very aware of before formally meeting her.

2.) the mmc was mindblown that this woman of excessive wealth/means (who he knew was of excessive wealth/means) was well educated, well read and over all had her shit together... as if her background wouldn't have nearly guarenteed as much.

-miserable single characters. omfg, there was this one book that was more of a thriller with elements of romance sprinkled in and like, the female main character's whole entire personality was that she was single and racing with her biological clock... girl, you are 34. please, be calm. she was literally so fucking insufferable. she'd go on a date with someone and be just about ready to plan her wedding to him (AFTER THE FIRST DATE- GIRL, STAND UP OMFG). she couldn't be happy for her friends who were in decent relationships. like, i get jealousy can be a very normal human emotion but like? damn, you can't even manage to be a little happy that your friends are happy??? are they even your friends???

-fmcs exhibiting creepy, weird, gross behavior and the mmc doesn't aknowledge it as anything other than sexy. i'm sorry but if i'm talkin to a woman i can't see and i find out that during the entirety of our conversation, she's been flickin her bean to my voice without my consent and taking advantage of the fact that i can't see her, i'm not gonna nut over how hot that is once i find out. i'd be ready to kick her ass and/or call the cops. like?????

idk there's more im sure but i'm tired and cant think straight. idk if any of this even made sense. but yeah. just some gripes

[chronically-sawyer-pilled]

TCSM Sissy x Fem!Reader

"Sweet Sugar" Part 5

Part 1

18+, Minors BEGONE (DNI)

Warnings for whole story: NSFW, Murder, Cannibalism, Drugging, Coercion, Slight noncon, Unwanted touching, Abuse, Blood, Knifeplay, Bondage, Kidnapping, Sweat stuff, human faces being worn, pet names (sweetie, sugar, sunshine) general horror themes. This is a work of pure fiction, pure horror fiction - the actions in this story are not to be taken as positive depictions of affection.

"I… How long are you going to hide me?" you whimpered "Oh sweetie, just until I get Grandpa's approval. I'm his favourite y'know. I just need to make absolutely sure you're the one." "How... will you know for sure…?" "Oh I'll know. I feel you pullin' me towards you, like a magnet. I felt it when we first met, I feel it now. I hear your thoughts y'know. The things you think about me. They're enough to drive me crazy." Sissy laughed as she softly grabbed your hands, pulling your wrists together and tying them to the headboard via soft fabric. "Wh…What if I'm not the one?" "If you aint the one..." Sissy got real close, whispering in your ear "Then I'll fucking kill you for deceivin' me." You whimpered in response before Sissy shot you a sweet smile "But I have faith. I have faith that you were made for me. You were made to be mine." She smiled, turning around and unclipping her dress. She discarded it from her shoulders, leaving her only in her underwear. She was skinny, sweaty, but beautiful. As your eyes trailed up her bare back, Sissy pulled her hair from her bun, letting it fall down onto her shoulders. She turned back to face you, revealing her bare chest, a few scars littered her skin, each in different phases of healing. She grinned, giving a curtsy. "Do you like what you see?" She asked, a hint of desperation in her voice "I… I do. You're beautiful." you responded, finding yourself unable to resist staring. You weren't humouring her, she really was beautiful, you started to reconsider just playing along, just biding your time until she makes a slip. Maybe you really were made for her. Maybe this did happen for a reason. Sissy squealed in response to your compliment, burying her face in her hands, jumping up and down in excitement. "Oh Y/N… You are the sweetest damn thing…" She sighed, climbing atop the bed, snuggling into you, squeezing you tightly as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Her chest was soft, and warm, You could almost feel Sissy's heartbeat in sync with your own. "I'll never say never to always, I'll never say always to none. To seem is to dream a dream my love, cause one is one is one~." Sissy hummed, compelling you to sleep.

You awoke to the feeling of soft fingers trailing your body. It was dark, so dark. Your breath hitched as you felt Sissy's fingers making their way down your stomach, her fingertips were slick, trailing down under your waistband "S…Sissy?" You moaned, still mostly asleep. "Shhh. shhhh. I just want a taste. Just a taste." Sissy whispered, her head still buried in your neck. Her hand explored further, parting your thighs ever so slightly to feel what was hidden between them. Her fingers were curious, poking and prodding at your folds, each gentle poke sent shivers through your body, each touch electric, each stroke agonisingly intense. The drug circling inside of you combined with the exhaustion made Sissy's touching feel almost dreamlike. Sissy's fingers eventually found the spots that made you whimper and buck your hips, and each time she got a reaction she would exploit it further, her breath was hot on your neck, constantly finding the right places to push, until she stopped. Her fingers retracted, making their way to her lips. "I told you, I only wanted a taste." Sissy grinned, leaving you to fall back into the darkness of your mind.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Can you write some Dream with a Filipino! Reader please???

Beer

Dream of the Endless x Reader + Corinthian x Reader

Summary: You want to get drunk because he's gone. Oh, and Corinthian is so going to take advantage of that.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Filipino!Reader, gender neutral!reader, I use filipino, mentions of heavy drinking/drunkennes, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: Hey nonnie, tbfh, being filipino played no part in this fic besides the fact she speaks some filipino and sings a filipino song, which is why i added in the warnings instead of the pairing lol ANYWAY, this can kinD OF DOUBLE AS A p2 for Thorn At My Side, although it kind of doesn't really mention much about what happens in that fic and is mostly centered on my fav nightmare But whatever I am tagging everyone who commented on that @cleverzonkwombatsludge @pinksirensong @lexi-anastasia @aralezinspace @emy635 @libra207 @secretdreamlandmentality @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 Please listen to Beer by Itchyworms, because that's what reader is busting out a lung to here's then english translation if you're curious Part 3 ig "Not Enough"

Corinthian snorted as he watched from his personal corner of the bar. He was deeply impressed by how drunk, yet on key the singer was as each song progressed. This, he notes, would be the 3rd drunken and broken hearted song confession of the night.

When it ends, the crowd cheers but the performer does not care.

Corinthian smirks to himself, taking a sip of his drink. If heartbreak was the recipe for a star performer, then more people should try getting their heart ripped out.

The intro of the next song started to play.

The guitar riff to the familiar tune made my heart clench. Much like the song, I took a swig of beer-- whoever's it was didn't seem to mind. It tasted horrible. I never liked beer. But the burn down my throat was exhilarating. It was well welcomed with all this sorrow in my chest.

I mistakenly use my bottle as a mic when I sing the first lyric.

Someone in the crowd telling me this was made me realize it.

"Dahil wala ka na," I sang the next line.

Because you're gone.

I smack myself with the beer bottle when I begin to think of Dream.

Fuck that.

Corinthian licked his lips, grabbing his glass as he made his way closer to the performance. He pushes his shades up and places a hand in his pocket as the music from the speakers grew louder with every step he took.

He surveyed the room. Corinthian thought of how much of a waste it was for the crowd to be as receptive and appreciative of the performance, though they had no idea what the words meant, when the singer was too intoxicated to even be able to tell.

Corinthian listens to how the lyric about returned gumamelas was sung, how beer was dumped down on it like a sad throat, and how, much like your feelings, the flower was still very much alive after it all.

It was so pathetic it was funny.

Corinthian downs the last of his own drink as the chorus started.

Nah, this was definitely the limit. Aint no way anyone that hammered is making it past the chorus.

He rolled his shoulders, readying for the inevitable, as he enjoyed the severely vulnerable words of the song. The nightmare in him thrived in the pain. It pays to be language omniscient. At least he could thank Dream for that one thing.

Corinthian was nearly a second too late when it happened.

I blink rapidly, my lightheadedness distracted by the gasp of the crowd. It was pretty weird that my head wasn't hurt by the impact of me falling after tripping on a mic chord.

"Steady there, doll face."

I look at the smirking blonde before me, swearing I knew him, even though I didn't.

"Aw, it's Corinthian, babe. I can't believe you'd forget your favorite nightmare," he says, getting me onto my feet, "alcoholism doesn't suit you very well."

He leads me off, placing the mic on the stand. The crowd stirs. I turn over to the TV still flashing the lyrics of my song, "hindi pa tapos."

Not yet done? Corinthian pulls me close to him, brow quirking, "I'm pretty sure you're past done, doll."

I turn to him when I crash onto his firm chest. I barely see my reflection on his thick glasses. I realize he was holding a cup of water in his hand when he brings it up to my lips.

I take the glass from him and drink it.

"Honestly, I should just kill you."

I choke on my water. I feel it come out of my nose.

Corinthian chuckles dryly, shaking his head, "wouldn't you like that? Your Dream Daddy broke your heart. Don't you wanna break his?" The sound of my coughing makes Corinthian think he might not have to do anything for the moron to die.

He grabs the cup from my hand, sets it on a random surface, and leads me out of the bar as I continue racketing my lungs.

"Geez," he pats my back, "you secretly have TB or something?"

I shrug him off as we walk down the pavement. He watches me as I look at him, "you know my dad?"

"What?"

"Sabi mo 'dream daddy', eh hindi-"

This bitch really talking about a dad?

Corinthian mutes out the next words, turning his attentions to the street. He pulls me to the left so that I don't step on a smallish pothole I don't even see.

He peers down to his side, finding the rant 10x more annoying since it was being spoken in a language the idiot was clearly very comfortable with.

"Shut up," Corinthian snips.

I turn up to him, furrowing my brows, "are you my boyfriend?"

Corinthian snorts, ripping me back by my top when I continue walking, though it was a red light. I choke on my collar as I wind up falling back into his chest.

"That depends on how pissed off dad would be if I were."

"It's none of my dad's business who I date."

Corinthian hums, "but it is my dad's."

"You have a strict dad?"

Corinthian snorts, lips curving into a lopsided smile, "oh, you have no idea."

We begin to walk again, and Corinthian turns up to his right when he catches sight of a fluttering black bird. He pulls me closer to him, throwing his arm around my shoulder. He dives his hand to his pocket and takes a stick of gum, popping it into his mouth. He chews it, enjoying the mint for a moment.

"Good news, babe," he starts, "I'm your boyfriend now."

My face contorts, "what?"

"Nightmare."

I am abruptly pulled into a stop. I topple against Corinthian.

"Daddy dearest," said nightmare states, hand gripping one of my shoulder's firmly, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

I look at the man he was addressing, the dark hair and blue eyes make my stomach churn, but I push it away as I look up to the grinning man I was next to. I wrap my arm around his torso, as not to be left in such an awkward position. He turns to me, licking his lips.

"Your dad isn't blonde?" I mutter.

Corinthian laughs, "no he is not. It's kinda funny you don't remember."

"Enough."

Corinthian turns to his maker. He watches as Dream's face tenses, "unhand your captive this instant."

"There's no captive here, pops," he tilts his head, turning to me, "tell 'im. Aren't I your boyfriend, dearest?"

"Uhm," I think, then turn to Corinthian's dad, "yes, sir."

Corinthian holds back a laugh. He wills his face into neutrality. It takes everything in him not to flat out yak at Dream's furious look. Still, he exercises his self-control well.

"You heard it yourself."

"Except," Dream steps forward. A bunch of passersby gives us all weird looks. "You clearly got alcohol-"

"I didn't get alcohol anywhere."

"Oh? Then why does it reek-"

"You know why," Corinthian blurts, "a consequence of trying to forget you, Dream."

"Dream?" I perk up at the sound, turning from Corinthian then otherwise. When I catch his face, when I realize who the man with the dark hair and blue eyes before me was, I hide myself in Corinthian's chest. My heartbeat begins to exhilerate.

Corinthian finds himself acting out of instinct. He pulls me close to him, "don't worry, baby, I got you."

Dream fumes.

"Besides, he can't banish you in your own neighborhood," he smirks to Dream, "now can he?"

"Corinthian," Dream utters with a conviction that shakes the nightmare to his core. It makes him tense. It makes his stomach drop.

However, the spreading feel of wetness on his shirt snaps him out of it.

"Yeah," Cori says, "bye."

I grip on him tightly as we begin to walk away. A chill runs down my spine when he pass Dream. Corinthian experiences the same thing.

We make it down the block in relative silence, relative because beyond the sound of cars, there was a soft voice in my mind calling out to me.

Corinthian silences his own by speaking up, "you wanna have some sinigang? There's a Filipino restaurant just across the street."

I close my eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, as I nod against him.

[rzyraffek]

Wouldja do any HCs regarding Michael Myers and his neice Jamie, like if he was a good uncle to her? Would he be protective, would he play with her?(This being Halloween 4-5 age Jamie)

Omg I love it! Zero tw and keep in mind that i saw this movie 3years ago so some stuff might not be accurate! Request open

Micheal top1 uncle

He in fact is the best uncle

Overprotective, but wont get involved phisically most of time, he isnt really into hugging people he cares about, more into lurking in shadows making sure noone is in way to ruin her day

He will play games with her, he is king in hide and seek, but dont make him play tag, aint way in hell hes running

He will give her dino toys and some plushies

Haha theres no need for jamie to find out that he commited 4war crimes in one weekend

He will spend a lot of time with jamie! Mostly just vibing on couch next to her just making sure she wont explode or somethin (idk micheal never had kids doesnt know how they work)

Man will watch cartoons with her and enjoy them more than he should have

Im not sure if in this movie whole Haddonfield knows how his face Looks like but if no, he will take it or and pick her out from kindergarden (idk)

They become besties, Jamie will draw cute drawings of her and micheal just vibing! He even will let her pain on his arm or paint his nails!!!

When Jamie is spooked she will call micheal and he will speedrun to her bedroom,(probably with knife) and when she sais "I had bab drem can u sleep with mi" he will just 🌺sure thing🌼 and will just sit next to beb or just stand there akwardly🧍 untill she goes mimimimi😴

Overall 9/10 good uncle but will stalk her firends and her too

(I used x reader tags only so more people can reach this, theres nothing nasty going on)

[moriihana]

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || intro: dammit, nugget!

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won't leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

content: fluff, angst

warnings: references to child abuse, mention of getting kicked out, inaccurate depictions of abandoned locations lmfao

word count: 777 words

a/n: this was originally written with my self-insert in mind. therefore the reader already has a backstory and a set personality; i just decided to make it into a reader-insert since there aren't a lot of disabled reader fics and i really like how i've written this so far. this is also just the intro, i have the next two chapters written and will be posting as well!

*previously known as "we can't fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)"; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they're just being overall menaces

AO3 link

masterlist ; next →

It was sunny out. That’s the first thing you always remembered about the day your parents kicked you out. It was warm and there were kids laughing on the sidewalk. You always thought that on days terrible things happened, it’d be pouring down rain. Overcast and dreary, no laughter to be found.

The second thing you always remembered was the yelling. The absolute disgust and disappointment in your mother’s voice, the disdain in your father’s. The insults slung at your face, as if asking to be treated like a person was a sin. You were tired of absorbing your father’s pain, you’ve been doing it since you were eight years old. Isn’t a decade long enough? You were so tired.

The final thing you always remembered was the panic. You were disabled, had no friends to flee to, no money. What were the essentials? What would you need? What important things can you spare room for? 

You laughed to yourself as you thought about it. It’d been eight months since that day, and while being homeless sucked—like, really sucked—it beat living with your parents. You even found a stray dog and cat to call your pets—you named them Boo and Nugget. Boo was a sweet thing, a medium-sized lab mix as black as night, with splotches of white on her chin and chest. She was skittish at first, but always wagged her tail after a few weeks. She was still puppy-like, probably only a year old. Nugget was a little fiend, always getting into things and getting around. He loved cuddles and would demand them at all times. He was weaned off milk, though he was quite small and still not old enough to be called an adult cat, you thought.

You found a mostly finished abandoned apartment complex to call “home,” one far enough away from the heroes’ usual patrol routes and police stations. It was missing the doors and some finishing touches, but that was about it. You had only had two close-calls at being caught since moving into the place. Even though it was rundown and more often than not, you found Nugget carrying a dead mouse into your apartment, it was home. Nobody came near it, since it was rumoured to be cursed.

Tch. Cursed. Perfect place for us street rats, huh? You snorted, scratching under Boo’s chin. Your head snapped up at the sound of heavy footfalls in the hall. Ah, shit. Fuck. Hope that’s not a cop. 

Boo started to growl, her hackles raising along her spine. Nugget jumped down from his spot on a rickety chair, intrigued by the sound.

“Boo, no, quiet—Nugget, what are you doing, get back here—” You hissed, scrambling to get their pets to calm. Probably not a cop. No radio chatter. Only one set of footsteps. Not a hero, either. Usually those are followed by fan's incessant yapping. Another street rat?

Boo continued to growl, backing away from the doorway. Nugget, on the other hand, darted out faster than you could catch him. 

“Oh, for fucks’ sake, Nugget!”

The footsteps stopped.

Well. Shit. That’s… probably not good. Dammit, Nugget!  

You reached for your cane and heaved yourself off the floor, inching towards the doorway to look into the hall. You stopped immediately when you saw a young man with black hair, covered in deep scars—damn, those look like they would’ve hurt—holding Nugget in his arms.

“You are… holding my cat. Could you. Put him down maybe?” You laughed nervously. The young man startled, gaze snapping to you.

“I didn’t know anyone was here.” Oh. He has a nice voice. What the fuck.

“I try to make it seem like that, yes. Street rats aren’t viewed kindly by authorities.” You shifted your weight, setting aside your cane and leaning against the doorframe. Nugget wiggled out of the young man’s arms, circling around his legs a couple times before trotting happily back to you. “Nugget, you little shit, what have I said about running off…? You’re gonna get us into trouble one of these days,” you grumbled, picking him up.

The young man huffed and began to walk off, seemingly disinterested in you. 

“Oi, if you’re lookin’ for a place to crash, this one’s good. Cops don’t come around, nor do heroes. Place is cursed, haven’t ya’ heard?” You piped up. The young man paused mid-step. “‘s got running water and electricity, too, surprisingly. Builders up and ran off.”

“You have zero clue who I am, yet you’re offering to share this place. You’re an odd one, little mouse.” He turned to look at you. “... the name’s Dabi.”

You grinned. “I’m Y/N. Nice t’meet ya, Dabi.”

[insomniamamma]

Pigment: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/N: So this idea was kind of kicking around and then the Writer Wednesday prompt gave me permission. I know for certain that I'm not the only one who headcanons Ezra using writing and drawing as a way of building up dexterity in his non-dominant hand. Apologies if this is too derivative. This is fairly early in the Prickle 'verse timeline. Takes place after "Rain." Reader's nickname is 'Artichoke' but Ezra also calls her 'Prickle' or 'Prickle-girl'. Warnings: Mentions of old injuries. Mentions of violence. Food mentions. A little anxiety on reader's part. Mild language.

           You didn't mean to look. It just kind of happened.

          Acora is a trinary system, two main-sequence stars that orbit each other in a slow precise dance, and way out, past the smattering of gas giants and icy worldlets a T-class brown dwarf that the researchers on the bench nick-named Big Pink. Two suns means that certain times of day are unbearable for suit-work, so the three of you wait in the tent. The pod is mostly powered down, so not to overtax the coolant system and even with the scrubbers and chillers running no one wants to move much. You hear Cee shifting around in the upper bunk, tinny sound from her music player punctuated by snippets of singing. She forgets sometimes and sings aloud. You don't mind. Ezra sits propped up, scribbling in a spiral bound book resting on his knee, scratching away with a nub of graphite pencil. Probably running pull numbers or orbit curves, fuel-to-mass and all that. You wonder why he doesn't just use his tablet. Seems like it would be easier. You try to distract yourself from the rising heat, the tiny pinholes lining the tent's seams that sizzle like little stars, irritatingly bright while you try to read.           It doesn't help that you've read this particular mediocre locked-room mystery multiple times. You already know who done it. That's how it goes. Most decent sized benches have some form of lending library, or at least junk dealers willing to make a trade. Paper books are surprisingly valuable out here. You don't have to charge them. They won't shit out if you drop them. Software glitches or botched updates won't turn them into useless bricks.           Acora is not a decent sized bench. A skeleton crew of ice miners to keep her fueled and the flying, other than that it's all researchers. Geeks studying the workings of a trinary system. All of them seemed a bit wiggy, like when there was a dust storm back home and you'd have to seal everything up and kick on the scrubbers and try not to murder each other while waiting for the sky to come back. These aren't even real storms, your Gran kept saying, we aint had a real storm since they started dropping ice down the well. Still, by day four or five everyone would have tight smiles and big jittery eyes and once you'd watched your two older brothers start beating the shit out of each other in the kitchen because one ate the last sweet roll without sharing and Ma had to wade in with a broom to break it up. Not that you really expected a station full of scientists to start wailing on each other, but it didn't seem like any of them had been off bench in a good while.           The rumpled botanist who's shelling out for live samples from this gruesomely hot little moon exuded that sense of being bottled up in spades. She talked rapidly and told the three of you far more than you needed to know for the task she hired you for, smiling big all the while. Your hand drifted downward to the thrower at your hip. Cee caught the motion and gave a little shake of her head. She was stimmed up to her eyeballs, she'd told you later. My father would get like that sometimes. As long as her money's good, who gives a shit, right? A quick and dirty little job while the freighter unloads and refuels, a three cycle turnover.           You try to settle in and ignore the sweat sliming your skin, juicy rattle of the chillers struggling to cope. Best to wait for first sundown, Ezra told you, we'll still have plenty of light but a lot less heat. You peer at him over your book. He is deep in concentration, taps the eraser end of his pencil against lower lip and then against his forehead as if he could knock his ideas loose, brows pushed together in thought. Kevva, he's got pretty eyes, you think, and he glances up at you, a small smile quirking one side of this mouth and you wonder if you've said it aloud, feel heat creeping into your face.           "Good book?"           "It was the first time through."           "Don't worry," says Ezra, "There'll be better pickings on Tirana. It's just a hop, skip and a jump. You can trade for more reading materials there."           "Hop, skip and a jump," you echo, the both of you knowing full well that you'll be finishing this novel and then re-reading one of the other half dozen you've got stashed under your bunk before you hit Tirana Bench. "Right."           Ezra chuckles and you turn your attention back to this foolish story. Bench-boss's asshole son gets snuffed and the plucky hero has to figure out who did it, all sealed up in a ring with the potential killers, femme fatale ship captain inserting herself into the mess. You know all the twists, familiar as the weight of your suit and body armor on a drop, as Cee's music, as Ezra's snores as he drops off into sleep, soft rasps off to your left, and you feel your own eyes growing heavy as well, a sort of reflexive slide into sleep, too hot to do much else, you rest your book on your chest and let your eyes fall closed, sinking into the unintentional rhythm of tent-noise, the chillers, soupy and rattling from sucking humidity out of the air, small comfort knowing the water is going right into the tanks, that it won't all be cycled piss, Cee's music, some Vayok synth pop she picked up two drops back, Ezra's small snores, and you're almost out yourself, right on the edge, things starting to turn soft and unreal, when a sharp sound snaps you back.

          You push yourself up on your side. Ezra's notebook lays on the dusty floor, face down, front and back covers splayed like wings, pencil not far off. Must've fallen asleep writing. You frown. He's had that notebook since before you've been crew. He would not like to see it wrinkled and left on the floor. You pick it up and brush the dust off, straighten the pages, smooth the wrinkles back down and that’s when you notice that his technical notes are not notes at all, or at least not entirely. He has drawn Cee to the life, the tilt of her head, music player covering her ears, that far-away face she gets when she's listening to something new. A Central-standard date pencilled in beneath. You shouldn't look, you should place it beneath the corner of his bunk where he's got his data pad charging, and his stash of Shock-berry Limited Edition Bitz-Bars (as if he had to stash them, they were nasty on so many levels that you and Cee had handed over your share of them in a wordless trade for the regular kind, better the devil you know).           You flip a page, curiosity getting the better of you. A cluster of heptagonal shapes, and you feel yourself smiling. The fossils on CJ's World, opaline red, winking in the sun as you pulled them out of the soft sediment. A good and easy haul, low risk. You'd seen a rainbow rising out of the distant sharp cut canyons, and found Ezra's hand folded warm around yours. That was a good day, you think, listening to Ezra's soft snores.           "You sure you stripped the aux input panels?" He asks clear as day and you freeze, but then he shifts and the snores resume. One more page, you tell yourself, then we stop being a snoop. The next page bears your face and your name, not 'Artichoke', but the one you signed on the line when you joined this little crew. You in profile, but that can't really be you, can it? You recognize your tactical gear, the webbing that holds your thrower to your thigh, your knife-sheath, the tool belt you wear in place of armor when you're on a friendly drop, but there's a small soft smile on your face, a light in your eyes that he's somehow managed to imply in a few graphite strokes and paper left blank. He's drawing weak-handed, that must be it. You flip the sketch book closed and place it beneath the corner of his bunk with the rest of this things. You lie back in your cot and stare at the  pattern of shifting light over the tent, waiting for your mind to settle. It takes some time.

          Tirana Bench is a ramshackle hub but there are plenty of stalls in the commerce ring to poke around in. This is how it goes. Once the pod is supplied and the next job negotiated, there's usually a little time for the three of you to split up and get whatever incidentals you need for the next leg of your endless trek around the Great Arm, books, music cylinders, special snacks, extra consumables. Used books, a hand lettered sign reads, one for one trade.                    You've left what you mean to trade with the man running the shop, and you've got a few promising novels tucked in the crook of your arm when something else among the junk catches your eye. A flattish metal case the length of your hand opened to show wells of bright pigment, cracked, obviously used but with plenty left, a clutch of fine bristled brushes held together with a bit of string. Paint-kit, the tag reads, near new. You fold it closed and examine it, turn it in your hands. If Cee was here you'd ask what she thought, but she's off somewhere else in the commerce ring, making her own deals.  The label is mostly missing, faded yellow against the plain grey metal. The catch is s small button and when you push it, the lid pops open on its own. That's what sells you. Ezra can open it one handed. You add it to the clutch of books. He's gonna think it's silly, you think, and the proprietor obviously agrees because the trade for the battered tin of colors is two novels.        "That's highway robbery," you grumble.        "Where else you gonna find honest-to-Kevva art supplies in a dump like this? Lose two stories or take your trade elsewhere."        "Fine," you say and take the slimmest two volumes and slide them back across the counter, "We good then?"        "We're good," he says and you tuck the remaining books and paint-kit into the bag slung over your shoulder. "Safe flight, spacer." You nod. Spacer as a form of address still feels weird, like a title you haven't earned. You wonder if that feeling will ever fade, if that small voice that says you have no business out here in the black will ever shut up.

       You find yourself hurrying along the ring, suddenly wanting to reach the pod before anyone else, because now you're wondering how Ezra will react to your gift, your present, and you feel silly. You imagine his brow arched quizzically, what's this now, Artichoke? Kevva. You can almost hear him. If you get to the pod first you can stash your things without the others seeing, your books, your vac-packed saar jerky, some new socks because you wore holes in the ones you'd gone off world in, and this little tin of used but mostly good paints. And then you can just not think about it for a while. Gods this is stupid, why are you so worked up? So nervous at the idea of giving Ezra a gift? This is something friends do for each other. Give each other little trifles. Doesn't mean more than that right?

       Of course Ezra and Cee are both in the pod when you get back, Ez arching an eyebrow at you. You're late, Artichoke. By, like, two sixteenths, says Cee, snapping one of the pods many storage compartments shut, rolling her eyes, you had a good half buffer.        "That half might make the difference between us shoving off without you," says Ezra, "Clear?"        "Clear. It won't happen again," you say, feeling heat rise to your face.        "I trust that it will not."

       You hurriedly stow your things and brace yourself for the change in grav as the can-hauler you're clipped to undocks, the flywheels spinning up to dampen the bench's spin and then transfer their momentum to the freighter's smaller ring, grav meant for passengers and cargoes that can't tolerate microgravity, a sick sideways upward lurch and it still doesn't feel right, you find yourself breathing hard, swallowing saliva that tastes metallic.        "Here," says Ezra, reaches across and hands you a wrapped piece of candy, "Spice-root. It'll help your stomach. Hold it in your mouth for a spell. You'll be alright." You take the offered candy and tuck it into your cheek.        "I always keep some of this on hand," says Ezra, "You never know when your inner ear's gonna decide that you're going backwards and sideways all at once." You try to slow your breathing and just listen to him talk, Ezra's voice is like a warm steadying hand.        "Amateur," says Cee, with a teasing grin. You crunch your spice root candy between your teeth and give her the finger. Ezra chuckles.        "Seems like you're about back to normal, there, Prickle-girl."

       Privacy is an odd thing living in a drop pod for extended periods. Clipped to a bench it's not so bad, there are places you can go, things you can look at, food stalls, bars and the like. You can get away from each other for a little bit. Clipped to a freighter? It's been a mixed bag so far. Depends on the ship. Depends on the whims of them flying her. At best there might be a grotty little mess hall where you can get a hot meal. At worst you are locked down in your pod, with no view and nothing but the same shit rations you eat downworld.        It's not entirely unfamiliar, being cooped up. The winds would kick up so high back home that the sand and flying dust could scrape you raw and bloody if you got caught out in it. Privacy is a matter of claiming it, and everyone agreeing to it. When Cee has her music player over her ears, you and Ezra know not to bother her, likewise when you are reading, or when Ezra is running points or calculations or drawing. Silence will fall between the three of you. Not unwelcome. Just everyone doing their thing, usually after you've eaten your last meal of the day, no rules, just an easy habit the three of you have fallen into.        Except tonight you can't seem to settle in. You've read the first five pages of the horror novel you traded for on Tirana Bench at least a half-dozen times. It's not that the story or writing's bad, you just can't concentrate. That little metal box in your storage compartment is burning bright in your mind like a lump of radioactive material. You glance over at Cee. She's fast asleep, music player knocked askew. You know eventually she'll take it off in her sleep. Ezra is still awake. Of course he is. Better now than when Cee is awake. She'd probably roll her eyes and call you a goof-ass, but it's not her judgement you worry about. She'd probably also tell you to quit waffling. You abandon your novel on your crash couch and fetch the paint kit from your storage locker.        "Hey, Ezra?"        "Yeah?" You turn to him, holding the little box behind your back.        "I, uh, found something I thought you'd like. On the bench." He's sitting up on the edge of his crash couch, legs hanging over, sketchbook spread across his lap, looking at you expectantly. You offer him the paint-kit. He looks at the battered metal box and then back up at you, that little line starting to stitch itself between his eyebrows. You feel yourself starting to smile a little at his confusion.        "Push the button," you say and he does and the dented lid springs up.  You set the box on the sketchpad, flat surface folded open and step back, hands worrying at each other. Ezra raises his hand to his mouth. His face runs through a complication of emotions.        "I saw some of your drawings. I didn't mean to pry, you fell asleep and dropped your book and I didn't think you wanted it getting all dirty, and I saw this kit and thought you might like to try some colors," Your face and neck go hot. You're rambling. "I mean, you always say how you gotta have the right tools for a job and I saw this and figured I'd get you some tools. It doesn't mass much more than a book. I thought--"        "Get me a squeeze bulb with some water, yeah?"        "Yeah okay," you say, and snag a squeeze, "You're gonna try it now? It's kind of late-" Ezra makes a dismissive noise.        "We've got fifteen and a quarter cycles cooling our heels in this pod," says Ezra. You look at him and he is beaming, dimples sunk into his scruffy cheeks, eyes warm and crinkled, he glows and you feel yourself warmed by him, feel yourself mirroring his smile.

       "Plenty of time to sleep," you say and plop down next to him with the squeeze bottle of water, "I think this big well is meant for the water."        "I think so too," says Ezra, and his smile falters slightly, "Can you hold the paints for me? I can finagle some sort of lap board later, maybe one of the grading trays--"        "Sure, Ez, I've got you." You rest the box on your knee so he can reach. Ezra wets the brush and dips it into one of the paint-wells, long dried pigments soaking up into the fibers. He strokes the bristles over the paper, a long blue squiggle, experimenting with pressure and thickness. Dips a second brush into the clean water and uses it to draw the blue across the paper, staining the fibers, fading color like some sort of magic trick.        "How do you know how to do that?" Ezra shrugs.        "My mother drew and painted when she had the time," he says, "I used to watch her and she'd let me try my hand at it, but I was never any good."        "Well that's bullshit," you say. The blue squiggle becomes a fractal pattern, an oxbow river seen from orbit.        "It's not though," says Ezra, rinsing the blue out and going for a deep green, "Cee got me my first blank book. I had to teach my weak hand how to be clever. I meant to teach myself how to write again. I'd copy out my letters over and over and my hand would cramp after a spell. Drawing helped me loosen back up." A constellation of green dots and drips make a forest, tiny pink pin-pricks a field of flowers.        "My handwriting is still utter dogshit though," he muses, fully focused on the sketchbook in his lap, "Funny how that works."        "Kevva might take a lot from you, but she always gives something back," you say, one of your Gran's expressions popping out of your mouth unbidden.        "Just so, Artichoke, just so."

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Partner in Crime

Note: Inspired by this ask by @sapphirescrolls​  

Summary: Outlaws takeover ranch

Warning: anal, bondage, non consent, double penetration Dark Bucky x Reader; Dark Steve X Reader Weatern AU

—

The day was long and hot. Without your husband helping tend to the farm anymore you found it difficult to get through the rounds of daily chores before lunch time no matter how early you started your day.

It was well past noon when you headed to the main house to get started on some lunch. Slicing up some bread and boiling a pot of well water, you prepared your meager lunch. When you heard the distant sounds of mares approaching from the dirt road.

Your farm was a bit far out from town so it was a bit odd to have a visitor. Looking out the window you saw the two horsed men ride down your dirt path and head towards the back of your house. Turning off your stove you hurried outback to investigate.

When you saw them steer their horses into your barn you were furious. “Hey! Hey! Get out of my barn!”

In your many years on the farm no one had ever been so forward as to intrude. Lifting the hem of your skirt you ran sore feet and all to the barn, hollering and cursing up a storm.

Standing now in the middle of the archway of the barn you were greeted by the sight of two men. Bandanas covering their faces with large satchels on each steed. Each bag with various bills poking through what seemed to be bullet holes.

“Well hello Ma'am” The blonde bandit uncovered his face while the hammer of the pistol in his silent partner’s hand clicked as you stood frozen in place. “We are mighty parched. Might you spare us a cup of water?”

—-

While inside you poured them both glasses of water. The meager lunch you made for yourself now devoured by the men.

“I’m Steve and this here is my best friend Bucky.” Both men tipped their hats to you.

“I-it’s a bit rude to wear hats in the house. Your mamma’s aint teach you no manners?” You stuttered.

Both men looked at each other and gave a slight nod. “Pardon our rudeness Ma'am.” They took their hats off and placed them on the table.

“I’ll just go hang these on the hook by the door.” When you grabbed for the them they didn’t protest and that is when you saw your chance. Walking toward the door with hats in hand you began to hang them as soon as you neared. Looking over to the table you saw them talking and that’s when you did it. Opening the front door you dashed out. Booking it to the dirt road as fast as you could.

—-

The lasso cinched around your waist as you tried to run away. You felt a great pull and then you found yourself on your ass. Bucky pulled you in by the rope, your dress sullied by the dirt path as you cried out into the vast country air.

Once you were close enough he hauled you over his shoulder and walked with you back inside.

“Now now Ma'am that is no way to treat guest… Bucky if you don’t mind”

Bucky took the rope and tied your hands behind your back. When Bucky finished tying your hands you felt his own roam your backside. Through your dress you felt his hand travel down your seams, lifting your dress and petty coat as you begin to beg. “Sir please, please wait I have some jewelry in a chest please” you sniff and sob, but he didn’t relent.

“We have been on the trail a long time. Mostly deal with whores, but a widower…now that’s a rare find.” Steve neared you, but you couldn’t straighten yourself to face him. “How long has your old man been dead?”

“Please don’t do this” you blubbered as you felt Bucky’s fingers on your bare flesh.

“I think we have a virgin ass Punk.” Bucky chuckled darkly as his digit pressed hard onto your whole.

Grabbing you by the neck Steve forced you to stand straight. “How long has it been since a man has touched you?” Steve demanded an answer. Lowering your head you told him how long your husband had been dead. The pain of thinking about him reopening wounds.

“Bucky you hear that. I think she needs some taking care of. Living in this place all alone… What a shame.”

Taking you by the back of the neck Steve lead you around the house as you cried and pleaded for them to have mercy. Once he found your bedroom he began to strip. Bucky pushing you onto the bed fully clothed. Steve captured your face tenderly before kissing your lips gently, softly roaming your body with his hands.

When he pulled back you were gasping for air. Squeezing and groping you while he stared at you wantonly. The sheer strength of Steve was surprising with one hard yank he split the front of your dress open. Exposing your breast to him as you yelp with shock and surprise.

Taking your breast into his mouth you panted and moaned. Your husband had never been that tender and the sensations were all new to you. With your tit in his mouth his hands moved your body to straddle his. Moving your fabric so that your bare mound felt the cool air of the room.

“That’s it good girl” Steve’s words knocked you out of your lustful days. When you felt his cock line up with your cunt you tried to dash away, but his hands held you in place.

“Punk are you ready to break her in.” Turning to look behind you, you found Bucky naked as well. He climbed into the bed and when you saw him near you tried harder to get away.

“Sh, sh, sh, calm down girl” Steve talked to you like you were a wild horse that needed to be reigned in. You were frantic and with the added hands of Bucky you felt doomed.

Bucky spread your cheeks, whistling at the sight of your tight hole. When he spit on your entrance you felt disgust as you continued to sob uncomfortable. "Easy girl" Bucky said a he rubbed in the spit with his tip.

Both men stilled your bucking body, lining themselves up to your holes, pressing threateningly at each entrance. “Please no please” you begged again, but it was too late. Both pushed in hard, stretching you as you screamed out.

“Good girl that’s it. Take us in” Steve grunted as he pushed you down. Bucky’s weight and girth overwhelmed you while Steve was welcomed by a pussy that was eager to adjust to his size.

Both men fought to find their own rhythm with your body. Bucky grabbed your bond hands, pulling them until your back arched. With your breast in the air, Steve took a hand off your hip, pinching and playing with your exposed breast, reaching his head up to take one in his mouth again.

“That’s our girl” Bucky praised as he assaulted your ass.

“We are going to fill you so good” Steve declared when he pulled away from your nipple. His hands slapped the side of your thighs. The sting adding to your pain. Steve dragged his nails across your skin leave welted strips on your flesh.

Through all the pain you could feel yourself becoming aroused. You felt dirty and used, but the feel of them both inside of you, driving you mad with desire. “Shit” you exclaimed as they both hit a spot inside you that you never knew you had.

“That’s it baby come for us” Bucky said as he pounded into you hard, forcing you to fall forward on top of Steve. “I’m not gonna last too much longer in her Buck. She is too tight.”

“Mm-mm shit!” You moaned while both men continued to pump into you.

You felt your pussy gripping his cock before you felt your holes filled with warm juices. Both men came inside you, filling your holes as you came all over Steve’s cocked.

“Well Buck what do you say we make this place home for a while?”

Pushing you off to the side leaving you a crumbled mess, both men looked at you and smiled.

“That’s alright by me.”

[goldenacolyte]

continued from here;

    The way he reaches for her leaves her fairly on edge now to, allowing him to pull her back, looks towards him and then between the vents, squints, really puts in an effort to see what he does. 

    ❝ What is them, Doctor? Shakin’ like a leaf, ❞ she comments softly, not sure if it’s herself or him that’s filled with tremors, ready to bare her fangs to whomever it might be. Alien or not.