#He may have forgotten a bunch of things after so long

[itaipava]

— f1 boys apologizing after a fight.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re lying back-to-back in bed, neither able to sleep. at some point in the night, he gives in and you feel a hand on your arm, lips pressed against your shoulder, “will you let me hold you? i promise we will talk about it tomorrow.” as you eventually nod in agreement, you can feel him smile against your skin. he wraps his arms around you, whispering a faint ‘i’m sorry’ before you both finally drift off to sleep with much lighter hearts.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

you come home to find him seated on the couch in front of the tv, surrounded by a cozy blanket and a bunch of pillows. he tries to act cool about it, “oh hey, i was just about to watch a movie. you can join if you want.” you almost can’t fight the smile forming on your face as you notice your favorite snacks as well as two cups of hot cocoa on the table. you try to act unfazed and walk past him when he grabs your wrist, “oh come on, it’s your favorite movie and i made the hot cocoa for you myself,” he says then his expression softens, “i’m sorry. can we make up, please? it sucks fighting with you.”

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he apologizes through touch; you guys may not be on speaking terms but at the end of the day, he relents once the cold anger fades. you’re standing by the corner in the kitchen at night, lost in your own thoughts until you feel a pair of arms around you from behind; your body instinctively tenses but it relaxes once you recognize who it is. he quietly holds you in a back-hug for a long while before whispering a soft ‘i’m so sorry. i love you,’

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he apologizes unreservedly and sincerely with a straight face. his face is pretty passive and aloof but somehow, the emotions and the genuineness is evident in his voice - very subtle voice cracks, hoarse tone. probably sits down and talks about the argument and the cause of it and what you both can do to fix the problem. then he hugs you, light-heartedly saying, “fighting with you is exhausting; i think that just took ten years off my life.” then kisses you, murmuring more apologies against your lips.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he normally needs time alone to process his emotions and thoughts, which is why he decides to sleep on the couch for the night and he leaves for a while before you wake up in the morning. but he doesn’t leave the house without making you your favorite breakfast, drink, and writing a little note that reads: went for a run, will be back soon. i’m sorry about last night. and he finishes it off with his name, followed by a random, cute doodle.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

arguments with him rarely lasts long; he wants to make up and move on from it as quickly as possible. you’re both lying in bed, facing away from each other, both awake and feeling equally guilty. then you roll over and turn around to apologize at the same time. after a moment of gazing at each other, you break into soft giggles and he chuckles as he pulls you into his chest, mumbling apologies and sweet words.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he awkwardly does little things for you; when you drop a pen, he picks it up and hands it to you without a word; when he sees that you’ve forgotten to take the towel into the bathroom, he wordlessly leaves a fresh one by the door. when he’s having a snack and he sees you pass by, he offers you some. if you accept it, he expectantly looks at you. “sooo, we good?” when you respond with a nod, he lets out big sigh of relief before hugging you; “i’m really sorry, y/n,”

[persicipen]

sweltering summer ノ dr. ratio

ৎ୭ — · · 2.5k ノ fem reader — antiquity au ノ spending a hot day inside the house ノ established relationship but also lowkey unspecified what kind of relationship lol ノ flirting while eating fruits ノlots of kissing and making out . bit of dry humping on the floor ノ lowkey soft veritas . nipple teasing . cumming inside ノ just slightly proofread, forgive me for any mistakes

₊ ˙ ⊹ . little dictionary — atrium . a courtyard with an open roof in the middle of the villa ノ impluvium . a shallow pool below the open roof (compluvium) that collects and filters rainwater, cooling the room during hot weather

A hot day it was, scorching sun high up in the skies casting a pale alabaster heat on stone villas and plants spreading their leaves wide to absorb every beam. The good thing that the roof kept the atrium mostly in shadows until late afternoon where the star gaze upon the courtyard at the perfect angle — but now all it does is turn the shallow pool into a vase full of diamonds, small waves sparkling and shimmering in white glitter each time you kick your feet gently against the liquid surface.

“Mmm… This way it’s bearable. The day, I mean,” you hum, lost in thoughts of how awful it would be now to stand in the middle of the agora. Instead, you’re lazing around his villa, snacking on his fruits and enjoying his company.

“Only an idiot would go out when the sun is in its zenith. Actually, there are not many sane people out there. Regardless, do you plan to squander the rest of the day on meaningless rumination?” Veritas asks, quirking a brow and piercing you with an intense look from the other side of the atrium, open space merging with this study. He doesn’t sit next to you, but his gaze feels closer than the distance between you two suggests.

You are almost naked — barely a piece of cloth draped over your intimate parts — on the warm stone bench, skin gleaming from the cream, on display like an offering for his eyes. You don’t touch each other and yet, you do.

Your shoulders sag slightly when you hear him call you out on your foolishness; the corners of your mouth pull upwards as you look at him, staring through half-lidded eyes at his beauty like he is another sun and you may go blind.

“Don’t be mean! Not everyone has the energy to make a scientific discovery when breathing alone takes away any motivation!” you whine at him with mouth full of cold grapes, which results in him rolling his eyes at you.

Alas, he’s also standing up and stepping closer.

You watch him take a piece of the peeled orange, only to eat it in front of you. And that would have been enough for your eyes to follow his lips, as well as for your heart to speed up, but Veritas takes it a step further and slowly wipes away the juice dripping down his chin with his thumb, before bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. Your brain immediately screams at you for being so obvious, stupidly fascinated by the man as you stare at his wet thumb, then at his tongue and lastly at his beautiful lips.

At this point, you have already forgotten what you were saying before he interrupted you.

“You might not possess any desire to concoct hypotheses, nor do you long for scientific development, but seem to be perfectly capable of thinking lustful of me.”

This makes you drop the bunch of grapes you had been about to eat and splutter in denial, scrambling to collect them off the floor. They’re dusty now, so you try to clean the residue in water. It doesn’t work as well as you wish it did, but once again, you fail to realise Veritas staring at you.

He waits patiently for you to finish cleaning up after yourself, sitting next to you. Clearly amused at your display of nervousness, his palm travelling along your spine and pulling the cloth just an inch to the side to let it slide on its own from your body. You look at him wide-eyed, at the small smirk on his lips and the intensity of his eyes; it takes you a moment to comprehend what is happening.

He pats his thigh and you sit there on the mosaics, biting your lower lip and pretending not to want to wrap your legs around his waist and nibble on his neck. But he can see through you.

He always does.

“I can spare you some time. Don’t waste it, indulge yourself. Come here,” he orders and you do so immediately, nearly dropping the grapes again in your haste to obey.

The cloth uncovers your entire chest by the time you straddle his lap and he sighs contentedly at your nakedness, stroking your sides from ribcage to your breasts, weighing your tits before he leans forward, taking it into his mouth and biting down slightly, making you yelp.

You circle your arms around his shoulders, pull him closer to you and press your lips against his neck, murmuring his name, all while he moves his hands to your ass, grabbing on the soft flesh and pulling your pelvis closer to his own.

It makes you want to bite down on the ivory skin on his shoulder, but instead, you mutter out, “this won’t help us cool down…”

And he replies, “as if I’m going to believe you won’t pout at me if we stop now. Would you really like to part with me?” as he says it, his thumbs swipe like feathers up your buds, eating a shudder consuming your entire silhouette.

He looks down to see your nipples harden, before you embrace him tighter and place a sloppy peck on his cheek, arms hugging him from behind, fingertips pressing into his back to have an excuse to make him not stare. You can feel his smirk against your neck.

This time he lets you lead, fingers threading through his hair as you make out with him in the empty atrium. He sits perfectly still beneath you, athletic legs spreading your own apart even more until there is no room for doubts that he likes what you do to him — your folds sliding along the hot length of his cock. His tongue runs over yours when you slip it inside his mouth, exploring him like you did not already do that once, and twice, and countless times.

You remember when he showed you how to kiss properly and gave you instructions on how to make him pleased. You were innocent then, shy as he made you take off your tunic and examine his naked form. Now, you yearn for his body as he does for yours, trembling in anticipation when he uncovers his perfect skin.

He used to teach you all sorts of things, but they all led to this very moment when he lets you ride him in his own house, feeding you his fruits and welcoming you anytime you wish to busy his precious time.

Your arms lock behind his neck, pulling him even closer, fingers entangled in his long hair as you continue making out. He takes a hold of your hips and stills you, rubbing his thumbs into the soft flesh before letting go, sliding down your ass to rest on your thighs.

He likes this, the feeling of your hands in his hair, your fingers playing with his long tresses, taking the strands between your digits and making them dance and wave like silk. He enjoys it more than you do.

And when you hear his exhale, it sends shivers up your spine — a moan right into your mouth as you both enjoy the other. You notice the tip of his tongue peeking out of his lips and you capture it with your own, closing your mouth around it and sucking gently. His nails dig into your flesh when you do this, sharp and unannounced, but definitely not unwanted.

“Already?” he whispers with a tint of mockery in his voice, feeling your shaky fist sneaking between your bodies to find his cock. Your finger brushes against the wet slit at the head, stroking him teasingly, just like he showed you before. But it’s obvious by now that you’re one mewl away from pouncing at him, trying to fit his entire girth inside.

However, Veritas has a little more self-control than you do and when he senses your impatience, he places his hand on top of yours and stops your ministrations. Then he leans in and pecks your lips before guiding your palm away from his hard length, placing it back on his chest.

You sigh against his lips, clearly disappointed.

“I know well that you want it just as much as I do…”

“Perhaps.”

“Then…? Please?”

He tilts his head to the side and takes in the sight of your naked form, bare for his eyes to drink you in and make you feel exposed, vulnerable. Then he glances down, lets his gaze trail from your face to your chest, takes in the view of your nipples — peaked and glistening from his saliva — before lowering it even more and shamelessly staring at your cunt.

You gasp quietly at his intense stare, feeling yourself drip when he parts your lower lips with two fingers and, with a subtle roll of his hips, let the glossy cockhead greet the revealed clit. It is merely a moment, yet you could see how good it would feel if he were to slide in.

But he doesn’t do that.

He leaves you there on the edge, all bothered and horny, covered in your own slick.

His tongue slides along his lower lip as he reaches down to squeeze himself in hand, smearing your wetness all over the shaft, coating it in your nectar.

The sigh he lets out is enough to make your legs weak and for you to press yourself against him, bare skin sticking together with sweat — the sweetest kind.

“Use your words.”

You huff in frustration at that, shamelessly rutting against him, desperate to have him inside. Your own juices flow freely down your thighs as you pant into his ear, incoherent pleads leaving your mouth before you finally manage to form a sentence.

“Inside… Please, let’s just continue. I want you in me…” you whisper against his lips and he sighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing and slipping inside. Your body gives in easily, swallowing him to the hilt with a sweet moan that he kisses out of you.

“Happy now?” he asks and you nod. It is quite indescribable.

“Happy. Happy with you.”

His smile is genuine and your eyes flutter closed when he moves your hips up and down, thrusting into you slowly at the same time. It sends a wave of pleasure through your entire body and your soft pussy pulses, drooling arousal around his shaft until it’s too easy to glide deep enough to meet your womb.

The afternoon heat makes the entire scene feel like a dream.

It is too hot to move, but the water soaks into your skin, cooling you down. His fingers squeeze your asscheeks, spreading them apart, leaving them covered in goosebumps. You moan his name loudly when he leans in to smooch your nipple and then suck on it gently, all while moving you against his pelvis, putting more force into every thrust as he rolls his hips, burying himself inside you.

Veritas shudders with every small noise that leaves your lips, his eyelids heavy as he watches you — face twisted in pleasure, head thrown back and hands grasping at his shoulders for support. He places his palm over your stomach, pressing down to force you to tighten, feeling your muscles throb with life inside you.

When he bucks up into you, a lewd wet sound fills the air, making your cunt contract around his cock.

The soft click of his tongue between teeth is enough to let you know he likes it. You try to look at him through hazy eyes, but you don’t last long before your lids close once again and you surrender yourself to his ministrations.

Then he smiles against your lips, teasing you by pulling away just when you lean in for a kiss.

You squeeze your thighs together as much as possible to hold him inside, but he only needs to pry your legs apart to continue the pleasurable dance. There is a faint sound of water dripping from the aqueduct outside his atrium and it echoes against the walls.

You try to grind your hips down to meet his thrusts, but he only moves slower, murmuring into your ear that you will not like it if you overdo it. It feels almost overwhelming at this point. You let out a groan when he cups your tit, presses it up, rubs his thumb against the stiff nipple and leans down to nip on it again, tracing around the areola before gently nibbling on the bud, feeling your pussy contract every time he bites.

His other hand slides up your spine, between your shoulder blades and then up your neck, tangling in your hair. You can barely stay up at this point, with his girth inside you, keeping you full and his teeth biting into your skin — if it weren’t for him holding you close to his body, you would collapse onto the floor, spent.

There is no time for teasing as he thrusts into you again, harder than before, almost lifting you up. When he starts moving your hips for you, you can only moan, clinging to him, fingers clutching at his hair.

He fucks you like this for a moment, feeling your cunt pulse around him, slick dripping from you with every push of his length inside you. It makes a mess on his thighs, leaking down onto the floor, and you beg him to come soon before you give in to the pleasure rush yourself.

It does not take long for him to lean back, support himself with one arm against the mosaic floor and hold your hips still as he buries himself deep into you. His breathing is shaky and laboured, making you worry he might lie down or lose balance, but then he sits up, embraces you tightly and buries his face in the crook of your neck, trying to calm down.

Warmth coming from within, his cum filling you up, a scorching heat of desire that could only rival the temperature outside. You feel him throb with every drop that spills out, in tandem grinding your clit closer to his skin and prolonging your own orgasm. The entire experience makes you whimper his name softly and press closer to him, your breasts squished to his chest. He feels you hug him, hear you sniffling quietly as you shudder with every wave of pleasure passing through your body, rubbing your cheek against his shoulder and crying out when it gets too much.

Veritas doesn’t want to part from you just yet.

So he stays inside you, chest rising and falling with heavy breathing, lips leaving soft kisses on your shoulder. He picks up a grape, feeds it to you, listens to you chewing on it and chuckle as you frown, clearly confused at the gift to bite on but happy with the ripe taste. You look up at him and ask if he is finally satisfied.

And he responds, “with you? Yes.”

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: You can read part two here.

Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.

You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.

"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.

"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.

"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.

While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.

"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.

As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.

"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.

You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.

Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.

"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.

"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.

"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.

"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.

"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."

"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.

You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.

"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.

He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.

Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.

Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.

"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.

"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

"What? What are you—"

"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."

He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"

He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.

"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.

"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.

"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.

"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.

"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."

"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.

"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.

"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.

"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."

That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.

You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.

"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."

You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"

"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."

Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.

"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."

You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x Reader (Reader wears a bikini and a dress)

A/N: Sorry for the unannounced month-long break. I've been swamped with uni work and writer's block but here's a little vacation au that's kinda based on a true story... 🫠

The start of this summer has been less than perfect. The over-rushed booking, the forgotten essentials, the shared accommodations — it was all a bit too much in the beginning but you’ve succumbed to the flow as the days unfolded. 

It was a 15-day vacation, and on your fifth day, you feel like you are approaching a state of feeling content. It’s hard not to. You’re currently ensconced on the most luxuriously soft daybed by the pool, your feet idly stretching ever so often as you sip from your ever-flowing glass of Aperol spritz. This is admittedly nice.

But while you’re involved in your own sweet languor, you fail to notice a certain peculiar white-haired figure approaching the bunch of you. 

Gradually tip-toeing his way, closer and closer, much to your friend’s concern. But he finally manages to catch your attention, all with a punctuating soft grunt. 

You look up, a bit startled but mostly annoyed at the interruption. You sit up, just a little, to get a better view of the man.

“Can we help you?” You ask. 

He’s pretty, and pale. You wonder if he’s carrying enough sunscreen for the trip.

“Yeah, hi!” He smiled. A sort of disarming smile.

“Hi,” you smile back, almost involuntarily.

“Uh, I lost a bet with my friends back there,” he spoke up, pointing back to a small cluster of people on the opposite side of the pool. “And I’m here to— Oh, I’m sorry. The sun must be bothering you.”

He steps forward, shielding you from the harsh heat the sun was inflicting upon your face. 

You resisted a smile, but it was tethering just about.

He seemed juvenile — this white-haired boy. He’s tall. Perhaps too tall. And he had this boyish look about him. In the way he stood, and moved his arms. In his smile. You wonder if he’s always like this, or if it’s just a persona he’s adopting for this vacation. 

You say this only because you are. You’re not often like this — lounging about in the sun, dressed in a white bikini with sunglasses resting on your head, with a glass in hand. This kind of nonchalance, this relaxation — it didn’t come easy to you. But you indulge in it because you can, even if just for a short while.

"You were saying?" you prompt, after existing in the long silence of him just standing in front of you.

“Oh,” he grins sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, they bet me to ask you out.”

“Oh,” you say, a bit disappointed. “Well, do you need help playing along or something?”

“No,” he says, his eyes widening at how that may have sounded. “No, they bet me to ask you out because I think you’re pretty. I saw you back at dinner last night as well. And then I saw you today. And I liked— I think you’re pretty. I liked your red dress last night.”

Your cheeks flare, and you can’t use the sun as an excuse— not when this boy graciously offered to shield you from it. “Oh, thank you,” you muttered.

He just smiled back, and you felt it’s strange how you feel no nerves right now. The last time a boy asked you out, you had run out on him. You had only approached him a week later to accept him, but by then he had moved on to sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat, but that’s hardly the point here.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You asked, ignoring the gasp from your friend beside you. 

This must be too shocking for her, and you admit you’re just as shocked as her. But this is barely real life, it’s vacation — a sort of liminal freedom that comes with it. 

“Well, there’s this masquerade ball thing that’s happening a few streets away,” he suggests eagerly. “Live music and all that—”

“I don’t know if that’s within my budget,” you say, candidly.

“Well, it’s kinda free,” he replies, and your eyes rise up in suspicion. 

“Well, for me,” he continues. “My mother’s hosting the event, so…”

Ah, you think then. He’s one of those boys.

You don’t say anything for a bit. Thinking over whether you wanted to indulge and involve yourself with such a crowd. With such a boy.

He seemed a bit worried in your silence, so he spoke up. “But if that’s not up to your speed, I can—”

"No," you interjected, your decision swift and unwavering. "I like it. I’d love to join you."

At the sound of that he grins, a bit too widely in your opinion, but it has an endearing quality to it so you mirror his grin. 

“Fantastic!” He says, “I'll get the masks. And I’ll pick you up. It’s at 7. Ish.”

“I’ll meet you out by the reception then,” you confirm. 

A few seconds pass, and you watch as he still stands in front of you. “So, are you going to stand there until the sun sets or something?”

“Yep,” he nods. “I can do that. Well— No, I have a thing in an hour but I’ll ask my friend to take over. Don’t worry,” he shakes his head.

You chuckled in response. “Well, we were going to head back in in a bit anyway. So, I’m sure I can manage the sun till then.”

“You sure about that?” he grins.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you affirm with a wider grin.

“Okay. I’ll see you,” he waved. “At 7.”

[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

[impactedfates]

"Fighting over the bill" - Aventurine x GN!Reader

★ Summary: Aventurine w/ a gift giving S/O who refuses to let him pay for anything :3

☆ Characters Included: Aventurine (Romantic) + IPC (Supporting)

★ Genre/Trope: Established Relationship + Crack (?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Aventurine may be OOC // Not proof read // Bullet Point format // Short // I think I lost track part way through so uh, sorry

Aventurine stares blankly at you as he watches the credits he was about to give to the cashier slowly fall to the ground. You stare back unblinking as you slowly hand over your own credits to the cashier who awkwardly takes it.

"...You know, the person who asked the other out usually pays"

"And?"

"...And I asked you out so I should've-"

"Well...I wanted to pay. You can pay next time"

You quickly reply, not giving much room to negotiate, not like he could've done anything. The cashier had already taken your money, he could only sigh and chuckle as he goes to pick up the forgotten credits on the ground.

"Well, I hope that means our first date was satisfactory"

He smiles, noticing your eager nod. He'll make sure he pays next time, he has a ton of credits to spend anyways

"WAIT, DON'T LET THEM PAY"

He calls out as he tries to reach you quickly. it was your guys second date, despite your statement that he could pay this time, when you left to get ready he noticed you walking to the front to pay. The person at the counter could only laugh, taking your card.

"Too late, sorry sir"

You smiled triumphantly at him, a sneaky smile on your lips. He shook his head in response, oh how he wished he could playfully lecture you on paying for him again when he should've paid this time.

But you looked rather pretty with that proud smile. He can let it slide this time

"Happy anniversary Kakavasha!!"

You call happily, wandering over to him, a gift behind your back. He smiled warmly in return, patting your head playfully.

"I thought we agreed to meet later, miss me that much?"

"Yes"

A small blush crept on his cheeks at your quick reply. Even after dating for a year he still couldn't get used to the fact you actually loved him.

"Oho? Is Mr Aventurine getting flustered"

Called out an all too familiar voice from behind, he turns to Topaz slightly rolling his eyes.

"Nope, just happy to see my lover"

He turns to you again, noticing your eager smile as he placed his attention back on you. You quickly reveal the bag of gifts you got him, handing it to him.

He takes it with a smile and looks inside, nearly choking on air. He had expected perhaps just matching clothes, perhaps it was just one gift with a bunch of paper to help protect it. Topaz leaned forward to see what had gotten her co-worker so tongue twisted before letting out a small laugh.

"Man that bag is filled with gifts, you like to spoil him huh [Name]?"

"I just think he deserves the gifts, most of them were from our last date. I saw him eyeing some of these things but not buying anything. Wanted to get him it"

Aventurine coughed into his hand and pulled you in for a hug. He had never felt such care from someone in so long. He really did choose the right person. He had fallen for the best person.

"Nuh uh, [Name]"

"What!? Why?"

You looked at your boyfriend with a pout, crossing your arms as he holds up your wallet that he managed to take without your knowledge.

"You've paid for me too much now honey. You didn't even need to. Let me treat you, okay? I'm a Stoneheart, remember?"

You grumble under your breath, before agreeing. Aventurine puts your wallet away in his own pocket before walking around with you in the mall. Placing any item you even show the slightest interest in, into the cart.

"I feel bad that you had to pay..."

"Pfft, sweetheart, how many times have you pay for me at this point?"

You stayed silent, looking away with a blush.

"Take my card!"

"Love, not again"

Aventurine and you start bickering (lovingly) as you tried to pay once again. Didn't help that the whole of the IPC was there, laughing at the display.

"Wow, they still haven't stopped fighting for the bill?"

"Seems that's the case, but I wonder. Dinner is nearing an end, once both of them finally agree on who pays. Do you think there'll be time for little Aventurine to pop the question?"

Jade laughs, leaning her head on her hand as she watches. Now all of the IPC could offer to pay instead, but why bother when this small argument is much more entertaining?

Topaz leans back in her seat with a knowing smile. For she was the only one to know that both you and Aventurine had gotten each other a ring. She knew another small (loving) fight would break out once you two show the ring. Questioning each other about the prices even though the both of you got something expensive for the other.

Heyyy...hey....

Finally back from my break yippee?...Haha...

I think I lost track from what it was meant to be about but hopefully this is still a decent read

[krysmcscience]

Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)

This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)

I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)

Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!

Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!

He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!

Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.

Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:

I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao

Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)

Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:

He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.

To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.

Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)

A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~

The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D

No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.

I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:

He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)

And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:

Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:

Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)

whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now

I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE

[sunni-stuff]

You, Me, and a Screen.

—★! NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Ghost likes to show off what he's got.

—★! Part 2 here!!

Alright, We've all heard about y/n having only fans and Ghost going absolutely nuts for her but what if the roles were reversed?

You're a dedicated worker, or perhaps more accurately, a merciless taskmaster, given the number of hours you put in at your job every week. Time off was a luxury you weren't granted, so your apartment became your only sanctuary for any sense of peace. As soon as your feet crossed the threshold, all the tension in your body melted away. The comforting scent of home enveloped you, welcoming you after a long day.

Your uniform is swiftly tossed aside, forgotten in mere moments - soon you're in more comfortable clothes, a pair of shorts, and a simple t-shirt. Lunch went bust earlier when one of your coworkers needed someone to cover their shift, leaving you hungry. So now you're lounging in bed with your laptop, snacking on your favorite bag of chips while aimlessly browsing various websites, searching for something to watch or any form of entertainment really.

An accidental click causes a popup ad to disrupt your screen, flashing and intruding on your space. The damn ad blocker hardly ever works. You close it, thinking it was just a minor disturbance, only to have another one immediately take its place. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you go to close the tab once more, but something on the page catches your eye and stops you.

You pause, eyes narrowing - you stare intently at the dark laptop screen. Suddenly, you see it again - movement. It's a live stream. A chat window pops out and now a man's figure steps out from the darkness in the background. The camera only shows him from the neck down, but it's clear that he is a man based on the grunt he makes as he sits down. His face remains hidden, but you can see tattoos peeking out from under his long-sleeved black turtleneck.

He remains silent, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. The chat room erupts with excitement at the mere sight of him, begging and pleading for him to perform for their eager eyes. His cargo pants reveal a visible tent, adding to the anticipation of the audience who came for this very show.

"What a needy bunch." His words resonated with a deep rumble, colored by a distinct British accent.

A chill runs down your spine as his voice fills the room, captivating you completely. He lets out a deep chuckle as his large hand rests on it, hidden beneath the fabric. You lean in closer, fixated on the bulge that visibly twitches under his touch.

Ding

A donation of 100 pounds comes through with an attached message: "Stop teasing, GD!"

GD? You're puzzled by the username "GD" and scroll down, hoping to find some information about them. You expect to see a bio, but instead, there's nothing - no age, name, or any other details. The only thing present is their username: "Going Dark".

"Donating won't make me go faster, sweetheart," GD responds with a sly tone, causing the audience in the chat to protest. Yet, donations continue to pour in, raining down on the enigmatic man with seemingly never-ending wealth.

He pauses, leaning back in his chair as he slides his hand down his cargo pants and into his trousers. A pleasurable groan escapes his lips as he starts to palm himself. The audience is captivated, waiting for the moment when he will finally reveal himself. He takes his time, slowly pulling out his length from within his pants.

The head of his penis is an angry red, oozing with precum. He may not be long, but he makes up for it in width and girth. He could easily fill you up and leave you feeling him inside you for days.

Your mouth goes dry and your eyes stay glued to the sight before you - him. You've seen penises before, but never one like this. It's almost… intimidating. How can someone have such a thing just attached to their body? Your gaze follows his every movement, from the delicate way he rubs the tip to the contented hums he makes when someone donates. This man is like a jack-in-the-box, waiting to pop out once he's ready.

He keeps moving his hips, pumping into his hand with varying rhythms as he gasps for air. One moment he's going at a slow and steady pace, not holding back on his moans of pleasure. And then he switches to a relentless speed, chasing a pleasure that only he knows, his arousal leaving slick traces on his hand with each movement, the sound of wetness accompanying this pace.

GD gets closer, you can see his hips falter and shudder before rising to meet his hand. He pushes himself to the edge, then slows down and falls back into a rhythm, ready to start over again. Your panties are drenched at this point from watching him pleasure himself. The way he moves is incredibly erotic, even though all he's doing is stroking himself.

Ding

250 Donation: "GD, give us a money shot?"

There is no verbal response, but the way he grips his cock tightly tells you he read the message. GD quickens his pace, tighter and harder, as if trying to chase away any thoughts or distractions. His breaths are ragged and heavy, his movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated as his hips demand more. He leans back in the chair, moaning in pleasure as his cock explodes, releasing thick ropes of cum that cover his chest beneath his clothes.

He remains still, not making a sound or uttering a single word. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the only indication of his exhaustion. Just when you think the performance is over and he has used up all of his energy, he suddenly sits up, his face still concealed. He leans over and grabs something from the desk nearby. To your surprise, it's a bottle of lubricant and a pocket pussy.

The anticipation built, and soon he was ready for another round. His member stood tall once again, eager to continue the pleasure. The previous climax faded into insignificance, as he was already eager for more. "I know you all want this, wishing it was your cunt," GD taunted with a smirk, his husky voice echoing in your ears. "What a bunch of naughty girls.."

GD coated his hands with lubricant, adding even more moisture to his already slick cock, making it shine in the dim light. He took his time, moving his hands up and down his shaft in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He gave attention to his balls, squeezing and massaging them gently as they were heavy with cum.

With a joyful hum, he set the lube aside and grasped the pocket pussy firmly with both hands. He teased the opening with his tip, gliding up and down its artificial folds, trying hard to suppress a moan. GD's self-control was reaching its limit; he couldn't resist any longer. He was on the verge of entering, penetrating this sinful paradise, tip just about to push through.

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[imaginesforeons]

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back. 

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

[2tcs]

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was.  I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter. 

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it. 

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication. 

[grotesquedarling]

All Yours.

Toby Rodgers x Werewolf!Fem!Reader

Summary: You are assumed dead, after going on a walk and not coming back. Toby finds evidence of the 'death' and thinks the worst. You return hours later, your ability to heal not working well. Toby helps you clean up, which leads to much more.

A/N: This is a one-shot for a story I am writing for Toby, where reader is a werewolf. If anything is confusing in this one-shot, God I pray not, it is connected to my story and things will fall in place as I post it! Divider made by cafekitsune! Please go easy on me, this my first time writing smut, or anything really, in about 2 years, due to writer's block, so things may be clunky.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!, P in V, descriptions of violence and murder, no protection. (If I have forgotten one, please let me know!)

Word count: 3k

“Wh- What now?” Toby yelled. “Sh-she is d-dead!” He was getting worked up, stuttering more than usual.

Tim and Brian couldn’t do anything, nothing that would be helpful anyway, so they listened. They listened for so long they were to the point of ‘listening’. Which consisted of sitting in the room and dissociating while looking interested.

Toby was getting louder, pacing faster, unsure of how to handle the situation. “Are y-you even li-listening to m-me? SHE’S GONE!”

Before Tim or Brian could say anything, there was a loud bang on the cabin’s front door. As soon as all their eyes shot in the direction of the sound, the doorknob was ripped from the door, leaving a gaping hole where it once was. A few bloody fingers could be seen going into the hole to open the door.

The door swung open and there you stood, bloody and bruised. The three men looked at you in awe and confusion. 

“How-?”

“Don’t fucking speak to me,” you growled, “I am going to take a shower.”

Toby just stood there, unable to process the fact that you were actually alive, you may have looked like shit, but there you were, covered in blood and looking hotter than ever. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As the cold water started to run down your body, the dried blood and dirt washed away. The images of the people that had been mauled, maimed, and mutilated didn't go anywhere, though, as a matter of fact, they just lingered and kept replaying.

“Shut up! You stupid fucking cunt, just stay down. Quit fighting back, you won’t win.”

A hand grabbed your hair as you were being yelled at, dragging you over to the lake you had been brought to to be thrown in after being killed. The thought of not being able to swim crossed momentarily, it was gone as soon as it seemed to come. Staying conscious was getting harder by the minute, eyes trying to close and breathing was almost impossible.

Unsure of what to do, a last burst of adrenaline hit, right before getting dunked into the lake. Your hand wrapped itself in the hair of the woman holding you, and dragged her off the dock with you.

Fighting underwater was not as easy as one would hope for in this situation. All you could do was hold on to the throat of the woman trying to murder you. If you’re dying, so is that bitch. Time felt almost as if it was slowed, as you waited for the bitch’s partner in crime to try to help her, he never showed.

Even struggling was hard, but losing is something you were never okay with, you had to win, or not die. Finally, life seemed to have left the woman, but you weren't about to let her trick you. You pulled yourself above the water, dragging the woman with you.

Your hand scrunched a bunch of the woman's hair, and quickly, with all the strength you could muster, you smashed her head into the dock, probably a little more than what would kill her. She will not be coming back from that one, you made sure of it.

As you finished, you stood up and looked down, blood was everywhere, yours and your attacker’s. You had no time to worry about that though, there was a man, somewhere close, who also wanted you dead. Blood loss and pain seemed to start setting in as you reached the grass, knees bruising as you hit the ground.

“What the fuck did they do to me? Why am I not healing? And where the fuck is-?”

Dead. As soon as you saw something, or someone, out of your peripheral vision running off, you noticed the guy was way beyond dead. You gave the woman you left on the dock one last glance, there was absolutely no chance she was coming back, unless someone were to gorilla glue her brain back together.

With both of them dead, you took a few minutes to lay in the grass, in the hopes that regulating your heart rate would start the healing process. It did not.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tears fell down your cheeks as you sat on the floor of the shower, the back of your head against the wall. Pain was something foreign to you, considering your healing factor, but the healing wasn’t happening, not as fast as usual anyway. The pain was almost unbearable, but the feeling of possibly being dramatic due to never having to feel pain for long seemed to cross your mind.

Unaware of how long you’d be sitting under the warm water, you realized it had been at least 20 minutes. The water started to get cold, the change in temperature wasn’t a bother, considering you run hot anyway, but that meant someone would be checking on you soon, probably Toby. You two had gotten close recently, very close. Too close, according to Tim.

Keeping your composure under the cold water was getting hard, the adrenaline had worn off and everything hurt. Suddenly, you were hyper aware of every bruise and open wound you had, your legs hurt, your body ached, and breathing started getting hard again. A panic attack hit.

A heavy knock hit the bathroom door, and the door opened. The realization of how loud you were sobbing seemed to bring you back to reality. Trying to speak to Tim, who just slung the bathroom door wide open, was impossible at the time, the only thing coming from you were sobs.

The shower curtain moved to the side ever so slightly, Tim’s eyes met yours as you looked up at him, curled into a tight ball, knees against your chest.

“He wanted me to check on you first, can he come in?” Tim seemed to be hiding the worry he had for you, hoping that if he didn’t worry, Toby wouldn’t worry as much. That didn't work. Toby peeked over Tim’s shoulder to see how fucked up you were.

“G-get out Tim,” Toby shoved Tim aside and out the door. Once the bathroom door closed, Toby just stared at you for a minute, taking in the wounds that were not healing. “Why are you st-still bleeding? I th-thought you-.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the wall in front of you, unmoving as your head rested on your knees. Words weren’t coming easy, the panic attack seemed to subside, breathing still seemed to be a big task, and you felt mentally numb.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Toby crouching now and knew he wouldn’t go away without getting the information he wanted and making sure you were okay, and since being okay was not a thing at the moment, he would not be leaving.

“If you’re just gonna sit there and stare at me like that, you might as well get in.” You deadpan, eyes still glued to the wall. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

His eyes widened, “I-I,” he stuttered out, shocked by your offer. “I’ll h-have you know, I haven't ever s-seen you n-naked by ch-choice. You don’t l-lock doors.” He was flustered, but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer. He started to remove his clothes, and quickly.

While trying to stand up so Toby could get in the shower, stars filled your vision and put you right back on your ass and a little yelp left your throat. You leaned into the wall again, completely and utterly ready to give up.

Toby sat down beside you, both of you completely vulnerable, and seemed to be scanning the severity of the damage to your body. He was quiet, more quiet than usual, it was almost scary. His eyes finally made his way up to yours, tears started streaming once again. Never in your life had you wanted to be held so badly, you had always been able to be independent and take care of yourself.

With his eyes still locked on yours, the words ‘hold me,’ slipped from your lips. Without hesitation he pulled you into him, causing you to wince with how fast and rough the action was.

“S-sorry,” he whispered as he gently loosened his grip on you. His fingers started tracing the bruises on your arms, then stomach, then your thighs. Something about him having to be gentle with you for the first time, made you feel a way, you couldn’t tell what that way was, but it was nice.

Leaning into him was a lot better than leaning on that hard ass wall, as he continued looking over your body, you listened to his heart as your head rested against his chest, regulating your own breathing and heart rate.

Pain started to slowly subside, your chest was not as tight, and the anxiety had melted away. Healing still wasn’t happening, at least not fast enough, it only seemed to be slowly coming back, and being the most impatient person in the world it might as well just be not working.

“I don’t understand why I am not healing,” you thought aloud, “If you're done looking at my tits from over my shoulder, will you help me just clean up? I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Toby was flustered once more, and hid his face in your shoulder for a moment. “Y-yeah, I can,” he whispered before helping you up.

Being in such a vulnerable state with you was something he never thought would happen, at least not when you first met anyway. Something about the innocence of sitting with each other, naked in the shower, made him want more than that. He was craving you, in so many different ways.

His impulse control was in overdrive but now, he didn’t want to hurt you, he was supposed to help you clean yourself up. All he could think about, though, was having his way with you. His hands were a little shaky now, trying not to think about grabbing you and pushing you against the wall. That seemed to be the only thought his brain could manage to give him, he was getting frustrated.

“You know, as a werewolf, I can smell many different pheromones, and I-,” you were quickly interrupted before you could finish the sentence.

“Sh-shut the f-fuck up!” Toby practically shouted. “You s-stink and you need h-help showering, let me f-finish helping you.”

“How about I help you after this, then? If I’m not too sore anymore.”

The look on Toby’s face was of pure confusion, “with what?”

You shook your head, “Let’s just finish here first.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Toby caught on a lot quicker than you thought he would, you hadn’t seen him move that fast and sporadic before. He needed you though, and when you offered yourself to him, even with the state you were in, he was not going to let opportunity slip away.

Your healing seemed to be back to a semi-normal speed. All you felt were light aches and any open wound looked like a gnarly scar, but they were closed up and not bleeding. What more could someone ask for?

“What the fuck were you two doing in there?” Brian asked, but quickly took the question back. “You know, don’t actually answer that. You two share way too much information already. Pretend I never asked, I am leaving.”

As Brian walked away, Toby practically dragged you to his room. His excitement was unmatched. He has wanted to do this since you two beat the shit out of each other sparring, which was about three weeks ago. Something about you looking feral unlocked something within him.

The thought of you scraping your sharp canine teeth across his neck, bringing blood to the surface while riding his thigh was something he never knew he wanted or needed. He wanted to be buried deep in your pussy, he wanted to be between your thighs, he wanted, no he needed to have you in every way possible.

Toby couldn’t decide what to do first, his thoughts were racing as you stood behind him while he locked the door. Once it was locked, he turned to you and lost the little bit of composure he had left. He grabbed you and ripped the shirt you had just put on after the shower completely off your body, and pushed you down on his bed.

Now all that was left on you was your panties, his focus wasn’t there yet, though. His kisses were sloppy yet held so much passion. His hands seemed to wander your body as he started kissing down your jaw line and making his way to your collarbone.

A small gasp escaped you when his hands finally found their way to your breasts. The way he squeezed them made you think he’d been waiting for the moment. The way he held onto you in general made you wonder how long he’d been wanting this. You had to admit, you had also been waiting for this, the way Toby had been acting around you, the way his glances started lingering, or how you could hear his heart rate change slightly when he’d see you.

His lips were back on yours now, and he was growing more and more desperate by the second, he whined a little as he started grinding into your thigh. You smirked when you realized how needy he was. He took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You could tell he didn’t know what to do next, the way he moved, twitched, and whined into the kisses. Pulling away from his lips for a moment caused him to become confused, but when your hands moved down his chest and started pulling at his pants he realized you weren’t trying to get away, you were helping him. A giggle came from you when you saw the look on his face.

“Wh-what? D-did I do something wr-wrong?” He was slightly worried.

As you shook your head, your hands went to his hair and pulled back into a kiss. He seemed to melt into you. He was so rough, even while trying to not be rough, then there was you. So gentle and loving. Despite being some sort of monster, you were just so patient, it drove him crazy, he loved it.

“I, I don’t kn-know what to d-do first.” He stuttered through his kisses.

Deciding to take things in your own hands so he wouldn't have to decide, you flipped him onto his back. His eyes went wide, he forgot about your strength, he was not going to argue though. With you on top, he seemed to be in awe. The way you looked was angelic.

“Are you ready?”

All that came from Toby was a whine as you went to sit on him, but you were going slow, way too slow. His hands grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise you as he forced you down. He started grinding up into you, and moving your hips whichever way he wanted, there was no rhythm, just random thrusting.

Now it was your turn to whine. Your hands rested on his abdomen and your claws started to come out. A growl escaped you, as your hips rocked in a more rhythmic way, syncing with his.. The moans and little growls rumbling through you were almost enough to get Toby to cum then and there.

His grip tightened on your hips as he started controlling your movements again, very sporadically. You didn’t care though, you were close too.

“Toby, I’m…” was all you could manage before a warm feeling came over you and you were orgasming. Your head went back and your eyes shut tight, and with your pussy clenching around his dick as you rocked your hips through your high, Toby quickly found ecstasy after you.

A string of moans and cusses came from Toby as he rode out his high with you still on his dick. He didn't want you to move, not yet. His grip on your hips was so tight by now that his knuckles were white. It felt as if he was making sure this was real.

“F-fuck,” He managed to moan out. “That was s-so much b-better than any of the p-porn I’ve ev-ever watched.”

You giggled again as you rolled from the top of Toby to the side of him. You laid your head on his chest for a moment, just listening to his heart. You gently kissed his cheek, before throwing your legs over the side of his bed and putting on a shirt that was on his floor. You were almost certain it was not a clean shirt, you used it though, just in case Tim or Brian came in and saw you with absolutely nothing on. Not that they would ask you any questions about what you were doing though. They have learned their lesson asking that one too many times. 

“I don’t know how much longer they will be gone, but I have to pee. When I come back-”

“We’re fucking even ha-harder. I have s-so many th-things I want to try wi-with you.” Toby was very serious saying this, but laughed a little, until he heard Tim and Brian walk in through the front door. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything with you now, they would complain about the noise.

Brian was quick to speak as he walked in, “We’re back, please don’t be fucking in my line of sight.”

Tim shook his head at that statement. “I am going to bed, if you are fucking, do it quietly,”

“They are such party poopers. Looks like it’s bedtime at the old folks home. Whatever, you good if I sleep in here tonight? That couch is going to give me tetanus with those rusty springs stabbing me in my ass cheeks.”

Toby looked from you to his bed, and gave you a strange look. “Your bed is way more comfy!”

“H-how do you kn-know that?”

“I take naps in here when you’re out or whatever.” You spoke matter of factly. The two of you stared at each other, unblinking for about ten seconds. Toby sighed, and promptly made a small  space for you.

“D-don't make this a habit.”

“Sleeping in your room? We just fucked in your bed. Shut up.”

[animeredhead101]

Dad Hood DP x DC Crossover

Completed

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself? Word Count: 24,778 Completed

Nothing But The Dead And Dying (back in my little town) by Umei_no_Mai :

Dan has just been rescued and is feeling a bit shorter than usual. Jason Todd has just been petitioned like he's a feudal warlord, which has never happened before but he could maybe get used to. They can probably make this work so long as Batman doesn't stick his nose in. Yeah, like that'll happen. Word Count: 123,925 Completed

my boy, my son by DisillusionedDanny :

In desperate need of a vacation, Danny has Clockwork turn him into a five year old so that he can have the childhood he never got. Soon, five year old Danny finds himself running wild in Gotham only to be kidnapped by some weird teenager in a costume who decides that Danny is going to be his son. What's Danny to do but accept this new weird guy as his new dad and become a super cool crime fighting vigilante with his new adopted family who have no clue he's a two thousand year old ghost king? Word Count: 18,210

Dad Hood by JaxinKH :

After a wish gone wrong, Danny has reverted to a child and sent to Gotham. Jason doesn't know how the kid ended up in his appartement, but he is now stuck looking after him. How hard could it be?

Word Count: 18,236

On-going

It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :

Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny. In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there. It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets. They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other. Word Count: 23,052 On-going

Imprint by Hashtag_DriveBy :

He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.

What the fuck.

What the hell was Jason supposed to do now?

Word Count: 119,791 On-going

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu :

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. / / It was a normal night of patrol for Jason. Beating up a bunch of criminals. Shooting them with bullets (they're rubber bullets Bruce! Calm down!) Get stabbed by them. Pass out from blood loss in the place he was taking refuge in Wake up in an apartment, his wounds bandaged and all. And to a black haired blue eyed kid staring at him. "I found you in the garbage!" Word Count: 120,002 On-going

Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades :

After escaping from the GIW, Danny crash lands in Gotham. He's six years old, his entire life has burned behind him, and one of the Gotham vigilantes is running around with a stifled Core. What's a kid to do?

A Jason Adopts Danny fic featuring De-aged!Danny, family feels, and Jason's Grand Master Plan going completely off the rails.

Word Count: 53,233

The (Un)Living Weapon by Anonymous :

They had only planned on raiding the facility. They hadn't expected it to be barren. Apart from a kid, chained and muzzled. With eyes of Lazarus water. Jason didn't intend on getting a kid out of the whole ordeal, but unlike Bruce, he is ready to kill to keep him safe. Word Count: 47,483

Mending a Family by Katelover98 :

Sequel to Creating a Family.

I decided to write this after getting such a good response on that fic. However, I wrote this new fic here instead of updating it in case anyone liked the open ending and didn't want more to spoil the way I left it. There won't be an overarching plot but a bunch of one-shots that show how Jason went from no family to a family that would kill and die for him.

This fic won't have a set schedule so I'll update when inspiration hits. That means one week I might update daily and other times it might take a while. It'll depend

Fair warning, I don't know much about Roy Harper, but I've done a bit of research so when he shows up, hopefully, he'll be well-written.

Word Count: 45,852

Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen for Cielle_Noire, AcesAndSpades72, foldingfacets :

After a run in with Vlad that left the entire Fenton family turned into little children and a subsequential kidnapping by what they think are ninjas the Fenton family escape to Gotham to lay low and figure out how to reverse their ages as Sam and Tucker help where they can, growing sense of dread as months goes by and they are no closer to fixing this. Danny, frustrated at lack of progress and tiny body, runs into the Red Hood while stealing his wheel to replace the one he broke. This results in Jason and the Pit Madness co-parenting, Dick mistaken for a stripper, Tucker unknowingly becoming Oracle's archnemesis, Sam believing the local coffee addict is a serial killer, Damian taking on an apprentice, various members of the Rogue Gallery becoming self-appointed uncles and aunts, Amity Park becoming a hellhole full of supernaturally powerful people trying to survive, Damian trying to get a certain Fenton adopted into his family, and Joker developing severe and crippling phasmophobia. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now has a TV Tropes! https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/VisitantLights Word Count : 82,890

[beenbaanbuun]

crying w/jongho

words - idk but it’s short

genre - fluff (it’s purely self indulgent bc i’ve been crying a bunch and just needed the comfort lmaooo)

warnings - crying, jongho being sweet

——————————————————————————

“crying sucks” you grumble as jongho wipes at your face with a damp washcloth. it’s too cold as it brushes against your flushed skin, but the hand at the back of your head keeps you from pulling away. you winced at the icy material brushes against your oversensitive under eye, but even with the eye roll he gave you, jongho was quick to retract the cloth from the reddened area.

“weren’t you the one who told me you liked having ‘a good cry’ every now and then?” he mutters as he moves the cloth to softly wipe under your nose. it’s humiliating to think that you may have cried so hard that dried snot had gathered there, but jongho never pulls a face or complains. he’s seen you in worse states, anyway, “you’ve changed your tune awfully quick.”

he puts the wash cloth on the bedside cabinet, ready to be placed into the wash bin once he was absolutely positive you were okay. you kept telling him you were, but he wasn’t so sure just yet.

“fine,” you concede, “crying is therapeutic when you’re doing it and then it’s over and all of a sudden you’re dehydrated and tired and everything feels shit. that’s the part that sucks; the part when you feel like shit.”

he hums in understanding. he’s all too familiar with the headaches that came hand in hand with dehydration. after all, overexertion came with the job, and he never really was the greatest at remembering to take sips from his bottle. a quick glance to the side reminds him he’s already done half the task of rehydration for you. next to the abandoned washcloth was the glass of water he decided to grab when he first appointed himself with the duty of girlfriend caretaker. he’s almost forgotten about it, but your complaints prompt him to lift it up and offer it to you. he almost let you take it yourself when he spotted your shaky hands and decided to just lift it to your lips himself. sleeping on puddles of spilt water would possibly be the worst ending to your already shitty day.

the cold glass touches your lips and you part them slightly so he can tip the water into your mouth. and as he watches you gulp it down like a fish that had been on land for too long, he can’t help but smile a little. there you sit with red eyes and puffy cheeks and a trickle of water running down your chin, and yet you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever lay eyes on. you might be a mess right now, but you’re his mess and that’s all that matters.

[seelestars]

hihi!! so i saw the dan heng meets child fic and really liked it! so may i request something similar with blade? basically blade meeting the child he had previous life (as yingxing) reincarnated, they died before yingxing and were reincarnated, they still have the same genes so they are still blade’s child, blade finds them at xianzhou luofu since jing yuan took them in bc they lost their mother and blade is a stellaron hunter now

➴ ✫ * ✧ BLADE MEETS HIS CHILD !!?

a/n : i debated between posting this or not bcuz I RLLY HATE HOW IT TURNED OUT but i couldn’t just leave this req hanging when i had already finished it so😭

blade couldn’t shake off the familiar feeling when he saw you.

even though he has long forgotten most of his past, he can’t help but feel like he recognizes you.

“..you better not try anything, criminal.” you eyed him suspiciously, one hand on your sword in case anything happened. you were put in charge of watching over blade for his time in the shackling prison. you also felt a sense of strange familiarity around him… one that made you lower your guard a little. he might be familiar, but he’s still capable of many dangerous things, you reminded yourself before tightening your grip on your sword.

once the two of you made it to the cell he was supposed to stay at, you quickly locked it after he got in. you made sure his sword wasn’t on him when you locked him inside, along with any other weapons he may have had. …all of this and you couldn’t help but wonder, why was he so obedient? you’d expect someone like him to put up more of a fight.

what you didn’t know was that blade was currently lost in his own thoughts too. he was desperately trying to remember who you were, and why his heart warmed near you. why did you bring out the fatherly instincts he only ever showed to silver wolf? and even then, he only expressed a fraction of that to silver wolf. he stared into your eyes blankly, as if trying to decode all your secrets. his stare was so intense you felt a little creeped out. it was only when he further observed the sword you wielded when memories flooded his head again.

“happy birthday.” yingxing patted you on the head, a soft smile on his lips as he looked down at you. “hehe~ thank you! sooooo~ since it is my birthday… I expect you to have a gift prepared for me!~” you had a mischievous glint in your innocent eyes as you looked at him expectantly.

yingxing chuckled at your antics, before nodding along. “yes yes, of course. I know you really adore my crafts, so I made a little something for you.” he revealed the sword he had been hiding behind his back. the sword was made out of jade and a bunch of other materials, it was obvious the sword had taken a lot of time and effort.

“woaaah~ this is so beautiful! thank you papa!“ you beamed, your eyes lighting up at the sight of the sword. your hands immediately reached out to grab it, letting out a small ‘oof’ at its weight. “now with this, I’ll be able to have the same swordsmanship skills as miss jingliu!“ you giggled playfully, caressing the tip of the sword to its hilt. “mmm, we’ll see about that.” yingxing laughed, ruffling your hair. he had great faith in the person you’d become one day.

oh. so that’s why your sword looked so familiar.

it was the same sword he had made for you when you were a child.

blade refused to believe it. he refused to believe how you and him once shared a close bond, how you comforted him whenever things went wrong. how sweet you were when you went, “don’t cry, papa! have hope that tomorrow will be a better day!” with a pure smile on your lips.

“…where did you get that sword?” blade asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the familiar sword. he had to admit, you were a spitting image of his past self too, it’s only thanks to his mara that he only remembered who you were just now.

“oh, so you finally spoke, huh?” you scoffed, deciding to indulge his curiosity out of boredom. “this… well. I got it from a blacksmith. they said they found it abandoned, buried deep in the dirt.” you shrugged, not bothering to give more details on the swords origin.

…right. why did blade expect you to tell him it’s real origins? there’s no way you were his child. you died ages ago.

blade remembered the sorrow he felt when you died, and how it felt like it was just yesterday when you had died. the tight hold he had on your weakening body. the tears he shed.

how could you have been so strong through it all when you were younger, more naive than him? how could you weakly wipe away his tears with a smile on your face, still trying to comfort him like you once did.

“have hope tomorrow will be a better day.”

blade didn’t understand why you had chosen those as your last words at the time. he thought you would start crying and rambling on about how you didn’t want to die with the little time you had left. he didn’t even realize how in his eyes, he saw you as fragile and weak.

if you had truly died, why did you look exactly like how he remembered you? except, more mature and grown of course. but he could still see the innocence you had in your eyes, he could still sense your determination, he could sense everything that resembled how you were as a child.

it took him a while to realize tears were rolling down his cheeks. he thought he had gotten rid of all of his emotions the moment he decided to become “blade”. so why, why did he yearn to be with you again?

your words snapped him out of his trance, a worried expression on your face as you spoke. “..hey. you may be a criminal, but I just.. can’t stand seeing someone all emotional. ..is something on your mind? you’re crying.” you spoke awkwardly, not quite knowing how to deal with someone sad in front of you.

blade quickly wiped his tears, not wanting to show any vulnerability in front of you. “im fine.” his words came out harsher than he meant for it to be, his gaze turning sharp again as he looked elsewhere. he tried his best to stop himself from reminiscing over the time he spent with you, instead choosing to think of the plan the stellaron hunters had made to execute on the luofu.

there was an awkward silence between you two, but it was peaceful. somehow.

you got tired from standing around for some time now, plopping down on the floor outside the cell with a relieved sigh. “..so.. not gonna say anything else?” your boredom eventually made you want to learn more about the mysterious man you had behind bars.

“..what is there to say?” blade grumbled, though there was a part of him that wanted to talk to you more. he was never good at socializing and talking though. but he felt strangely drawn to you, having a feeling that you were the reincarnation of his past child he once knew and loved.

you stifled a laugh, finding him amusing. leaning closer against the bars, you decided to lead the conversation for a bit.

“errr.. hmm… what did you even do to end up here anyway? im pretty sure this area is of the highest security. like for the bad bad people.” you asked curiously, subconsciously sticking your fingers through the cell bars.

“…none of your business.” blade eyed you suspiciously when you stuck your fingers through the bars, calming down slightly when he saw how you made no further moves. he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall and staring into space.

of course that was his response, you don’t know why you expected more from him. you had tried to ease the tension between you two with some small talk, except… it didn’t seem to be working that well. you hated how quiet it felt, trying to come up with a solution.

most people knew not to ask you for solutions, knowing how ridiculous they could get at times. so… why didn’t you stop yourself when you started rambling on, as a solution to the silence?

it was always a habit for you to start ranting about things, a habit you desperately tried to change. even now, when you’re talking to someone that could probably end your life at any moment.

before you could properly realize it, you were already running your mouth about some random story that had happened to you. you quickly shut your mouth once you realized what you had done, an embarrassed look on your face.

only to realize… blade was listening to you intently?

blade seemed to have his attention on you, something that puzzled you. “..go on.” he mumbled, his expression unreadable. the odd thing was, he didn’t seem to mind how you were rambling on about something so random. he had even leaned a little closer to you to better hear what you were saying…!

you tried to hide the shock on your face, clearing your throat and continuing to talk about random life stories. you stuttered occasionally whenever you remembered you were causally having a conversation with someone like blade like this. well, could this even count as a conversation? he wasn’t saying much in return..

blade hummed lowly as a response, urging you to continue. he figured you made pretty good background noise, blending in to the world around him as he surrounded himself with his thoughts. he’s not sure why, but he quite likes you. …maybe he’ll ask kafka and the others if he could come see you more often after the mission.

[findafight]

Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.

They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.

And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.

So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.

And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.

I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"

And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)

She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."

Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.

"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."

He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."

"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."

"thanks Robin."

"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.

"or used the bonesaw"

"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."

He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.

Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.

It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.

"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"

Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.

"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."

"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."

"mmhmm"

Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"

Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.

"yeah, duh."

"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."

Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"

[wrathofrats]

Mushy May Day 22

long drives- rulti- swiss rain talk while cirrus sleeps in the back seat. Things are changing around the abbey, and rain looks to stop the ache in his bones.

As usual thank you to icon @forlorn-crows for the prompts this month

The street lights illuminated cirrus’s sleeping form in the back seat. Laid across the cushions with her hands under her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees scrunched up to fit in the confined space.

“Remind me to call dibs first next time” rain grumbled in the passenger seat, his own legs bunched up against him in an attempt to get comfortable after the long car ride.

Swiss tapped his hands on the steering wheel rhythmically, long miles of highway and nothing else in front of them. “Then who would keep me company up here?”

“Cirrus, duh.”

“Cirrus needs her sleep otherwise she gets irritable, I think you should let her have it” Swiss took a quick glance behind him to look at her. Her hair covered her face as she snored softly.

“I need my sleep, otherwise I get irritable” rain grumbled, throwing his head back against the head rest.

“I know tadpole” Swiss giggled.

The radio hummed softly in the background. A static station that played mostly old rock music, nothing Swiss or rain cared much about but it was better than silence.

They sat in a comfortable state of not talking for a couple minutes. Rain shifted in his seat a couple times to try and quell the dull ache in his hips while Swiss continued to keep his eyes on the road, side glancing rain and cirrus every once in a while just to be sure they were alright.

“I’m surprised she’s been asleep this whole time, usually she tends to get carsick” rain spoke after a while.

“She’s been stressed, I’m glad she’s finally been able to knock out for a bit” Swiss gave his own yawn, raising an arm above his head in an attempt to stretch in the small space.

“Has she not been sleeping again?”

“Na, she’s been in my bed most nights. Usually she has cumulus to calm her down but even with me it wasn’t much. I could tell she was still awake most of the night”

It was typical of cirrus to be a bad sleeper, but the stress of everything recently didn’t help. it was most of the reason she would slink into Swiss’s hotel room on the trip because she was sure he would be up at whatever ungodly hour she had decided to give up on sleeping alone. Even if he was asleep, she knew he would understand more than anyone.

“You’ve been stressed too, I can tell” rain moved to turn the radio down. The static was almost too much, both knowing that the changes around the abbey had been getting to them.

“I’m fine tadpole, things will blow over”

The passing lights created patterns on rains lap as he stared down in thought. Dancing shapes and reflections to distract his eyes as his brain continued to mull over the situation. Aether and Sunny would be gone, moved to where the older ghouls all stayed.

Sure they were still there in the abbey, but there was always a worry that they would move on and have fun with the older ghouls instead, or that the rest of their pack would embrace the new ghouls so much that aether Sunny would be left forgotten as he knows the other have been. Rain doesn’t remember the last time he saw River and lake.

“But will they be the same?”

Swiss sighed, chewing on his lip. There wasn’t a good answer.

“No, but nothing ever really stays the same does it?”

“No it doesn’t.” Rain sighed. A heavy feeling settled in his chest at the thought. Realistically nothing could ever stay exactly the same always, but the fear of the unknown was always present.

“You can’t stop time waterlily. Things will always work out, they always have. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it”

“It’s a bit too late for that”

“I know, but good things happen with change too. Just embrace it and we can deal with whatever problems arise together ok?”

Rain smiled, leaning back into his seat. The promise of together lessening the pressure in his chest. He turned to look back at cirrus, who had rolled over to face the back of the backseats.

“Ok”