#He's a good kid he won't hurt ya!

[erwinsvow]

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

[itsmebytch001]

PILOT:

Angel had noticed Alastor had barley moved from his frozen stance awaiting by the door like a statue looking off into the distance clutching his staff with an unusually tight grip.

Angel: "Hey Husk, what's got Al all frozen like that?"

Husk looked up from his rag shining his glass and glanced over to Alastor still frozen and unblinking.

Husk: "Ugh, His kids coming to visit, they don't see each other often but whenever they do see each other, Al makes a whole big thing of it, stressin me out" He grumped out.

Angel: "His daughter? How is that possible? Ain't me like, Asexual or something? How you gonna have a kid if you won't bone?"

Husk: "I dunno, maybe she's adopted, she got his eye's though"

Angel: "Huh, so you've met her?"

Husk: "A couple times"

Angel: "Is she like him...with the radio and the tentacles?"

Niffty: "Nah"

Angel: "Ah! Niff Jesus we gotta but a bell on ya, you can't just run up on a guy like that jeez"

Niffty: "She's more into modern tech, and no tentacles, none that Ive seen" She said caressing her knife slowly.

Angel: "aha, well why she coming in now? it's been like five month's I ain't never heard him talk about her"

Husk: "No idea, last I heard they fell out after she brought a TV"

Niffty: "The guy hates Tech" She said, scratching her knife into the wooden table front of the bar.

*knock Knock*

Alastor's already strained smile expanded to reach his eyes as he strides to the door swiftly opening the door to reveal...

Alastor: "Y/N! So very good to see you my dear, Oh how I've missed you" He said pulling her in to the foyer in a tight, unnatural embrace , Angel leered over to get a proper look at her, from across the room little could be seen her face squashed into her fathers torso as she pushed herself away he squinted to look at her face, and indeed he did have his eyes, but little else, except the yellow teeth.

Y/n: "Good to see you to Dad, I've missed you too i guess" She said under her breath.

Alastor's eye twitched, you had just walked in the door and already you are testing him.

Alastor: "I heard that My love, keep your snide little comments to yourself, m'kay?" He asked, snapping his neck to the left.

Alastor: "Chum's! come greet my dear Y/n won't you?!" He bellowed pushing you towards the bar by the small of your back.

Y/n: "Dad, I already know Niff and Husk I-"

Alastor: "OH! but you haven't met Angel Dust, oh he's such a character" He said practically shoving you onto a stool across from Angel.

Y/n: "Hey Husk"

Husk: "Hey Y/n...you want me to make you something?"

Y/n: "Yeah, Gin and Tonic please" You said slumped over the bar.

Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry lemonade"

Y/n: "Dad I'm too old for thi-"

Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry Lemonade" He said again sternly looking you in the eye.

Alastor: "Now my Dear, where oh where are you belongings'?"

Y/n: "Just outside the door" You answered as Husk poured you a Strawberry Lemonade passing it over to you.

Alastor: "Good good, Husk go take them to Y/n's room won't you?"

Husk: "I'm a bartender not a bags boy Al"

Alastor: " I said go get her bags"

Husk lowly exhaled and dragged his sorry self towards the door.

Alastor: "right well, Angel this is my daughter Y/n"

Angel: "Daughter aye? And how exactly did that happen?"

Alastor: "Why what ever do you mean dear Angel?"

Angel: "Ain't you asexual? Can't exactly have a kid if you ain't boned someone"

Alastor: "Oh! well I made her of course"

Angel: "What?"

Y/n: "He made me, as a precaution"

Alastor: "Oh no dear we've been over this, I made you because I wanted to raise you"

Y/n: "Uh huh"

Angel: "Wait wait, I'm confused did you make her as like, a Frankenstein while you were alive or like..?"

Alastor: "No no, I bared no children when I was alive I made her down here"

Angel: "Okay but HOW?"

Alastor: "with some gold dust, an old voodoo doll and a rib of mine. It doesn't hurt to to supplied with a sum of power and magic of course"

Angel: "...uh huh" he watched as Husk dragged your bags up the stairs.

Alastor: "And my lovley creation will be staying with us for some times"

Y/n: "A month, that's all"

Alastor: "Oh a whole month! we have so much catching up too do, shame you won't ever answer any of my messages"

Y/n: "maybe I would if it weren't in the form of a telegram!"

Alastor: "Oh you young people, with your phones and TV's, whatever happnded to radio"

Y/n: "oh god please don't start" He patted your head as you slumped even further down the bar.

Alastor: "Yes well, while you chat with Angel I'll be sure to arrange the others I'm sure they'll be dying to meet you"

Y/n: "Yeah, okay Dad" you said dismissively sipping on your straw, Alastor of course saw this as his body tensed forcing himself to walk off following Husk up the stairs to corral the other tenants.

Angel: "So, Toot's you don't seem all that happy to see your pop's why is that?"

Y/n: "I didn't want to come here, It's just till extermination day since that dates been moved up"

Angel: "Oh, so your coming here for safety? well this place get's attacked every other week so I'm not sure if that's a great idea"

Y/n: "Oh no, I don't want to be here, It's just my Dad is convinced my place isn't safe enough, and he goes on about how we barley chat (mainly because he refuses to get a phone) and like 'how would I know if you were slain, am I just supposed to go looking for you sliced corpse' and besdies it's not like I have a choice so here I am, until the end of this month and then I'll finally go home again and not talk to the fucker for another seven years"

Angel: "Damm, if you hate the guy so much why not just not come, technically your Hell born so I'm sure you could leave the city, go on down somewhere like Pride, or Lust he can't come dragging you back"

Y/n: "Oh, but he can"

Angel: "How? Guy can't leave the ring"

Y/n: "You've seen that keyring of that little doll on his staff?"

Angel: "Yeah?"

Y/n: "That's me. He shakes that thing a couple times and BOOM and back where he wants me, coming 'voluntarily' just feel's less shit I guess"

Angel:" Oh...Damm" he looked over around the bar awkwardly tapping his foot waiting for Al to come back while you sipped on your god damm strawberry Lemonade.

Pt 2 anyone?

[voonroo]

I have an idea! Only do it if you feel comfortable though 🙌🏻 no pressure

Teen reader with Alastor who have this father-daughter bond. Teen reader has never really 'acted out' in a sense. At least not in ways expected of in a sinner. Always had manners, polite, and reserved, yet was always open and honest with Alastor.

Now imagine reader out on the town doing some errands and they overhear a demon talking some nasty crap about Alastor. For the first time, they let their anger get the better of them and get into a fight with the demon. Not without a few cuts and bruises though, poor thing.

Reader not wanting Alastor to get angry or disappointed at them decide that it's best that just this one, they won't mention anything. They'll not tell him this one thing. It won't hurt. He won't know!

Yet it's Alastor. And he always knows. Mainly because they're reading sunglasses inside and trying (failing) to cover up a limp.

Are Ya Winning Child?

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: KSNAKXNSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS I AM LIVING FOR THESE REQUESTS. I ACTUALLY HAD TO TAKE BREAKS WRITING THIS TO BREATHE. I WAS GENUINELY TWEAKING LIKE ALASTOR WAS THIS LAST EPISODE WRITING THIS.

Alastor & Teen Reader

You had always been one to hold your tongue and watch your actions. To not act out on rashness. That's how you had always been, even before ending up in hell. You had always been known for your good manners, even as a kid and it's only become more solidified in your character as you grew.

Then why was it so hard to not beat the living shit out of the demon in front of you.

There's no way they didn't know you were connected with the infamous radio demon in some way. Maybe they had seen you and him out and about here recently and knew you two had a connection. People are more courageous than ever to question Alastor’s authority since his 7-year absence.

Maybe the demon is just trying to get a rise out of you. Sinners, who were once people, tend to poke and prod at what they don't understand. “How could some random teenage sinner be so close to the radio demon? Maybe they have a deal? The poor soul probably got tricked…” You've heard it all by now.

But, every time someone said something would be in hushed whispers that were easy to ignore. However, it can be quite hard to ignore some random drunkard spouting lies from his lips. And straight to your face too.

“He’s probably got your ass on a leash doesn't he?” and “Oh! If he's so powerful—” There were a few loud noises, maybe a scream or two.

What…? Oh shit.

The walk back to the hotel was not fun. You really should have just ignored him. Silencing him was not worth the pain you had in your leg and the ache you felt. You're pretty sure you got a black eye too.

By the time you arrive, you have adorned sunglasses on your face come up with an idea as to why you have them, and practiced how to hide your limp until you at least got up the stairs.

By telling those who questioned your weird behavior, “Oh someone was giving out free sunglasses they didn't want anymore so I took one.” and walking past your sorry excuse of trying to hide a limp, you finally made it to your room.

However, you didn't have peace for long until a familiar knock sounded at your door. Quickly throwing back on your sunglasses, you heard Alastor’s static voice through the door.

“I heard you arrived back from town just a few minutes ago!” Oh, he's definitely already on your trail…

You walked- well more so limped, over to the door. Signing in defeat before tossing the sunglasses on your bed.

Fuck it, he probably already knows.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with the radio demon himself. His eyes already shooting up and down your figure. From your leg to your black eye.

“May I come in?” It sounded like more of a command rather than a question. Without much thought, you opened the door wider before going back over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. Staring blankly ahead like a guilty child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. There's no point in trying to argue that you're fine when you know Alastor will just keep pestering you until you tell him.

Sitting down next to you, Alastor sat with you in silence for a moment. As if giving you the chance to speak up first, but when you didn't he let out a soft sigh before gently cupping your face, turning your head to look at him.

“What happened.” The average sinner would have been scared shitless at his tone, but you were only mildly frightened. However, there was definitely ill intent behind his smile. He knows you didn't just do this to yourself. You had to have a reason, you don't usually act out of line.

“I got into a fight.” His hand dropped from your face as you spoke, his smile growing wider before he let out a chuckle. His shoulders slightly shaking and his eyes closed in euphoria. His next words were clear when he spoke, looking you in the eyes.

“And did you win?”

“Yeah…?”

Another chuckle left his lips, though, it sounded more like a childish giggle. His hand raised again, landing on your head before ruffling your hair. A proud smile on his face.

“Good.”

Word Count: 735

[eternalsams]

Scare Me If You Can ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 15+, swearing, sexual tension?, fake blood, fake weapon, scare actress!reader,Jake is a kinky bastard, boner alert

summary: Jake wanted to scare his younger brother by going to the Horror Village, but he ended up being the one scared.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. I'm so sorry, this isn't as good as last year's, to be honest I don't think I'll ever make as good as last year.

tgm masterlist main masterlist

Jake has always loved Halloween. Since the early age of 5, when his dad told him he could dress up as a pilot, Jake was convinced Halloween was the best holiday ever. He then switched to dressing up as a sexy firefighter when he got into college. He actually slept with multiple girls thanks to that one shirtless firefighter costume. But when he got into the Naval Academy, he didn't have time or the energy to look for a new costume, so he forgot about Halloween for a few years. That until this year, when he managed to get some leave for the holiday, and now he was back in Texas with his family to celebrate the day before the return of the dead.

He only had the time to settle in his old room when his mom told him she was leaving to pick up his younger brother at the train station. Jake smiled and nodded, watching the woman who raised him leave the house. It had been a while since Jake didn't see his brother; with college and deployments, common free times were hard to find. But knowing Elijah would be there for Halloween made it so much better. So he waited patiently until his mom and brother came back, hid behind the door, and listened to them walk up the porch steps, talking about whatever. The door opened on him, and he waited for his mother to walk in before jumping on Elijah, shouting his name to scare him. The younger man cursed as Jake laughed before insulting his older brother. Jake wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, still chuckling. "Good to see you, Eli'."

"Come on, boys. Don't start." Their mom lectured them as she made her way to the living room. Elijah pushed his brother back and shoved him away, starting unintentionally a playfight with Jake, who locked his brother's head under his arm. "Boys, please. At least, do that outside." Mother Seresin sighed, her face peaking out from the living room. "Listen to your mother." Their dad's voice rang, and both boys stopped their heckling. "Well, I still need to welcome our young prodigy home!" Jake shoved his brother's shoulder. "If one of us is a prodigy, it's you, Jake." His mom chuckled lightly and Elijah's lips parted in shock. "Ouch, that hurts." He grumbled in fake hurt. "Well, Jake's the one with the nice house next to California beaches." Jake laughed and wrapped his arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "But we're very proud of you for getting into college, Elijah." Both Seresin parents laughed at the boys' banter, and the younger Seresin pouted. "Fuck off."

"Hey, watch your language in my house!" Their mom intervened before she walked up to them with a flyer. "Why don't you go see the attraction they set in town?" Jake grabbed the flyer from his mom's hands, and a smile stretched his lips when he read the words Horror Village. "Well, that seems fun!" Elijah snatched the piece of paper from his brother and nodded. "Alright, I'll go. Could be fun."

"Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily. I'm coming with ya!" Jake went to grab his jacket and Elijah's from the coat rack. "Only if I'm driving." The younger Seresin said as he caught his coat throw at him by his brother. "Not even in your dreams, buddy." Jake chuckled, grabbing his car keys and opening the door, letting his little brother walk out. He waved at his parents and joined Elijah in the car.

Jake had his hands sunk into his pockets, looking around like a little kid. The dim lights created the perfect Halloween atmosphere. He and Elijah reached the Horror Village's gates and multiple security guards were standing there, checking IDs and bags. "You sure you're old enough to be allowed there?" Jake asked his brother with a smirk, earning him a jab in the ribs. Both Seresin brothers passed the gates and a man came up to them to mark their hands and enunciate the guidelines. "No alcohol allowed. There will be actors in there, they can touch you, you can touch them. All the weapons you'll see or come in contact with are fake. If one of the actors goes too far, say 'blackbird' and they'll leave you be. Enjoy your night, gentlemen." The man explained and Jake nodded to the oddly specific rules.

The two brothers started wandering into the village, laughing when a scare actor would jump on a visitor and earning them screams. They eventually reached a food truck and Jake ordered a candy apple, curious when he noticed they made them black. "Aren't you too old for this?" Elijah asked when Jake thanked the lady in the truck as she handed him his candy apple. "I'll never be too old for sugar." He winked at his little brother and moaned in delight as he took his first bite into the sugar-coated fruit. "You're a child." Elijah scoffed as he noticed a cute girl a little further. Jake followed his gaze and chuckled when he saw the girl leaving with her friends. He also noticed the short skirt she was wearing and the way his brother's eyes lowered to her bare legs. "Trust me, buddy. You don't have time for this." He clapped his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"Don't have time for what? Fun?" Elijah raised a brow with a smile. "For girls like her, trust me when I say she'd only play with you." Jake tried to regain his brother's attention. "Maybe I wanna play with her too." He grinned, a well-known spark in his eyes. Jake grimaced and groaned, seeing too much of himself in his little brother. "Gross..." He grumbled as he finished his candy apple, throwing the wooden stick in the garbage near them. "Come on, Romeo. We've still gotta visit that village." He gently pushed his brother forward and kept walking, passing by new actors who were running or staring at visitors.

"Isn't that one of those ladies from your game?" Jake asked, pointing at a lady a bit further. He recognized the revealing outfit from one of the horror games his brother often plays. Elijah sighed, convinced his brother got it wrong but when his eyes landed on you, he raised his eyebrows. "Well shit, you're right. It's one of the nurses from Silent Hill!" And just like you heard them, you turned to them, tilted your head to the side as your character would do. Only a blind person couldn't tell the blond guy was attractive, but unfortunately for you, you were working so no flirting. But you could still have a bit of fun with visitors. You put your hand on a woman's shoulder to hold yourself, startling her and wobbled to the cute guy. The younger man next to him couldn't help himself and looked you up and down but your eyes were only on the taller one. Your entire face was covered with dirty bandages and fake blood, hiding your face and adding realism to the costume.

When you finally reach the man, you faked tripping and held yourself on him, sneaking out a fake scalpel. His arms immediately supported you and as he was about to ask if you were okay, you brought the prop to his neck and a sound escaped your mouth. It was between a low whimper and a complaint. "I think she got you, Jake!" The younger man laughed as the cute guy watched you with wide eyes. "Alright, alright. You're good, I have to admit it." He swallowed and the tip of your prop grazed his Adam's apple as he did so. You smiled under your makeup and slowly pulled back from him.

You raised your hand to his face and ran your dirty finger down his face, leaving a trail of fake blood on his skin. You straightened your legs, appearing taller in your high heeled shoes and brought your face to his, another whine leaving your lips.

Jake looked away from you, feeling your body heat emanating from you and warming up his own body. He hated the way you made him feel. He swore under his breath and tried to remember the safe word the guy at the gates gave them. Blackbird. But it wasn't necessary because you pulled back, taking your hand off his face and your body off his. Jake felt like he could breathe all over again. He refused to look down at you, scared he might ogle right down your revealing cleavage. You waved off the two men and staggered away, blowing Jake a kiss before disappearing into the night. Jake exhaled loudly and calmed himself down while Elijah laughed out loud. "You should see your face!" The young Seresin clapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up."

Elijah looked at his brother up and down and chuckled some more. "Forget I said that. You should see your pants!" He laughed as he discreetly pointed at his brother's pants. Jake looked down and noticed the slight bulge of his jeans and the straining his own body had against the clothes. "God damn it..." The pilot swore and readjusted himself discreetly, looking around to check nobody saw that. "The nurse? Seriously?" Elijah questioned, still laughing at his brother. Jake glared at him and looked over his shoulders to see where you went, but he couldn't see you anymore. "She was hot, okay? Now leave me alone." Jake cleared his throat and tried to think of something else than your body pressed against his and kept walking through the village.

Not even twenty minutes later, his eyes caught sight of you again. His breath got stuck in his throat and he stopped in his track. Elijah slowed down to check on his brother until he noticed you. A smirk pulled at his lips and he turned to Jake. "Why don't you go ask for her number if you like her this much?" Jake rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "She's working and in character, she'd never give me her number. Aren't you supposed to know the nurses don't talk in Silent Hill?" The pilot turned to his brother. "Maybe you could give her a reason to talk." Elijah shrugged and looked at something over the blonde's shoulder. Jake felt a slight tap on his left shoulder and when he turned, his right shoulder was then tapped. He turned around and fell face to face with a bandaged face he recognized immediately.

"You again!" He chuckled and felt his face warm up. He could practically hear his brother's smirk behind him. You stood there, staring at him, your bare legs looking like they could break with how fragile they looked. But again, it was all an act to stay in character. He watched you leaned closer, his breath becoming heavier as you got closer to his body. "Your costume is really great. Very accurate." He said, trying to fill the silence. You tilted your head to the side, notifying you heard what he just said. But loyal to your act, you said nothing, your mouth shut behind the bandages around your head. You watched him as he extended his hand to you with a nervous smile. "I'm...I'm Jake." He nervously chuckled, a soft blush creeping up his face. A low whimper escaped your lips and Jake's smile fell, realizing he couldn't have a real conversation with you. "Right..." He sighed, his hand falling back down along his body. Elijah tapped his shoulder and encouraged him to keep walking. "Come on, we need to finish the tour."

Jake nodded in defeat and took a last look at you before following his brother. You watched him leave, disappointed you couldn't talk to him or anything without risking losing your job. Your character wasn't supposed to talk so you couldn't mutter a single word to anyone in the Village. You only hoped he'd understand and not take it personally.

The next morning, Jake was waiting in line for his coffee, looking down at his phone and the stupid jokes Rooster was sending on the group chat. His fellow pilot travelled back to Virginia to spend Halloween with his wife and kid and now the whole squad had to witness the atrocity he called a home-made costume of him and his kid. Dressed as a chicken and baby chick. Jake quickly typed an answer as he took a step forward, feeling the line move. But he didn't stop in time and bumped into someone. He quickly looked up and made eye contact with a young woman before apologizing. "Very sorry." He apologetically smiled and the woman looked at him up and down. Jake knew he was handsome, he knew too well, but his mind was still on the masked lady from the night before so he didn't pay no mind. "Do I have to say blackbird for you to not do that again?" She smiled and Jake frowned in confusion. He took a long look at you and looked down at your form. His eyes opened wide as he recognized you. A smile stretched his lips as he finally got a face to put on your body. "It's you." He said, trying to learn the color of your eyes by heart. "It's me." You smiled at him and noticed how even more handsome he looked during daylight.

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[tarjapearce]

what if miguel and reader have a fight? and they're trying to keep the fight away from gabi and ben but they end up seeing some of it and get upset 😟🫶🏻

Oh god. *Trauma unlocked* 🫠🫠

Bit of angst and little longer than I intended

Make up here ❤️ ~

Gabi noticed how silent you and Miguel were. Her eyes noticed how your hand flinched ever softly from his, only for him to retract his hand and grip the wheel tightly. It had been like this ever since the soccer practice was over. Had something happened?

------

She didn't know. But the quietness didn't set up good on her chest.

"Papa? Are you okay?"

Miguel's eyes watched her from the mirror and nodded.

"Of course, Solecito."

"What happened to your hand?"

"I got injured" He nodded softly and maneuvered the lever.

"Oh..." That's all she managed to utter. You on the other hand were looking absentminded through the window as you were fetching Benjamin from Peter's home.

-------

Ride back home was quiet, you took Benjamin and took him to his crib, he was a year now. Rebellious and black curls perched on his little head, bounced as he was put to sleep. Miguel was unpacking and you had decided to just get ready to sleep.

The fight had surely surprised you, not that you were scared of Miguel, it was just a behavior you rarely, if not ever, that you saw in him.

Gabriela took a bath, not really wanting to dinner, after all she had been treated with a Happy Meal at McDonald's.

You took a shower and changed, Miguel entering the room.

"So... I'm getting a silent treatment now?"

His voice calm, a stark contrast as how he was hours ago.

"No. Just..." You sighed, "Didn't actually expect you to hit that man."

"He was harassing you. Someone had to stop him."

"But hit him?" He sighed. "I know you, and that is really out of your character. Is... something wrong?"

"No." He spoke as he removed his t shirt

"I know work has been hard for you, and the kids, the house renovations, it can be stressful-"

"Ya estuvo, sí? Déjalo ." (Knock it off. Just leave it.) His tone firm, your lips remained shut as tears welled up in your eyes. You just nodded but your eyes drifted to Gabriela. Your heart wrenched at her expression. Fear, concern and sadness. She rushed to her room, leaving you both behind.

Miguel's head hung and he rubbed his face, realizing how the tension between you two was affecting everyone around.

"I'll get it." You mumbled and left the room. Following Gabriela, you knocked on her door and she buried herself further in the sheets.

"Mi amor?" She remained laid down, her back facing you, your steps guided you to her bed and sat next to her. She looked at you with wet eyes. It caused you to almost cry on your own.

"Is Papa okay?" she turned to face you, and you couldn't help but caress her hair.

"I... I don't know, mi amor."

"Are you angry at him?"

You shook your head and cradled her head softly.

"No mi amor. I'm not. I'm just concerned about him."

"I don't like when you fight." Another stab in your heart.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, mi amor. Sometimes stress is too much for adults and... we don't really mean things that we say, or the things we do out of impulse."

"Victor said that Papa had hit his uncle. Is that true?" Her eyes looked at you, searching for honesty.

"He... did. But his uncle did something really bad."

"What did he do?"

"He... touched me without my consent. And Papa got angry."

"Are you okay, Mama?"

"Yes, solecito. Your dad protected me from that man."

"Then why you flinched from Papa?"

You weren't expecting such comment

"Are you scared of dad?"

"No, cariño. I know he would never hurt me or any of us. But I also know that fighting isn't the way to solve problems. And it worries me cause... he never fights or id violent."

"Is something bothering him?"

"I don't know. He won't talk about it. But it's fine. Maybe he needs some space." Gabriela frowned but sighed.

"Im really sorry you had to see that, cariño. Whatever is happening, it's not your fault okay? This is between Papa and I. Understand?"

She nodded and hugged you.

"Don't fight, ok?"

You nodded as you did your best to hold it together.

"We'll try, mi amor."

Miguel heard from outside the door, uncomfortableness setting on his head. He just needed to find a way to make it up to you and his kids.

[mochinomnoms]

What do you think would happen if Floyd were to meet Riddle's mother?! Cuz I just read your Mama/Papa leech Headcanons about meeting their sons crush. But what if it’s reversed? Riddle's mother Meeting Floyd? (I would also say Yuu's parents meeting Jade, but unfortunately, that won't be happening)

“Wow, I thought Lil Goldfishie was a stick in the mud, his mama has a whole branch up her—” *gets kicked in the groin*

I have very mixed feelings about Riddle's mother, in that with the context we have right now she's a bitch and if I ever see her it's on motherfucking sight. But she must love her son still, right? Is she harsh because he wants to set Riddle up for success, but only knows the way she was raised? Is she scared of her kid getting hurt or failing, and so she tries to shield him from all possible harm? Is she so hyperaware of all the dangers in society that she feels the need to keep him in a little bubble, knowing in the back of her mind that making mistakes and getting hurt is part of growing up? A good mother would never want to see their child ever get hurt if it were up to them. I mean, she must care for him in some way, but how? In the manga or novel (not sure which) they mention that she fought back against the school to keep him in, but was that because she wanted him to have the prestige of NRC in his background or because she wants what's best for him? She homeschooled him herself to the point that he's an immensely powerful mage already as a teen, so she could've hypothetically kept doing the same thing, right? Is she a mother that truly cares for her son but suffered the same childhood, but she “turned out fine” so it must be fine? Or is she just a bitch, lol. Either way, she is emotionally and affectionately neglectful and doesn't realize it at best, and emotionally and psychologically abusive at worst.

I have a lot to say on the topic of Mrs. Rosehearts, about her parenting, the cultural differences of child-rearing that EN players and JP players might have. This post talks about it in depth, but I can say more on the topic later.

In regards to Floyd meeting Mrs. Rosehearts, probably against Riddle's wishes or while he's distracted, the poor guy is set up for disappointment. While it's implied that Mama Leech is overprotective and that she calls very often, if not daily, to check in on her sons, they still had enough freedom growing up to get into shenanigans and hijinks. I mean, they beat up a sturgeon and took some of its scales to fashion into earrings like a trophy. And they both speak very fondly of her, so Floyd is going into meeting Mrs. Rosehearts with the expectation that she might be a bit stuffy. But, she raised Riddle, his crush and favorite human! He's strict and mean at times, but he cares a lot for his dorm and is super diligent, she must be like that too!

But she's so…critical. She looks at him unamused, very standoffish, but is polite. He guesses. He can see where Riddle got his strictness from.

“Hello. Who might you be?” She probably didn't expect to have some random student, not even from her son's dorm, come up to her. He was...tall. Towered over her, and based on the color of his hair and sharp teeth, most likely wasn't human.

“Huh, you're not as red as my Lil Goldfishie is.”

She blinked and frowned, resisting the urge to chastise the strange fellow for his informal tone and rube behavior. Not her son, not her problem.

“Pardon? Do you often speak to your elders like this?” she asked, eyeing him as she turned away to watch her son give orders to his dorm as they managed an informational booth.

“Yeah, why not? They're just people. Not like I'm being rude or anything” She would strongly disagree. “You're kinda prickly, like a lionfish.”

“W-what?” She changed her mind, someone needs to put him in her place. “Now listen here, young man, it's quite rude to call people anything other than their na—”

“They're real mean, ya know. Venomous, a nuisance, can't even mess with it cause it has a bunch of spines—oh! Imma call you Mama Lionfish.” The young man snapped his left fingers like he made a revelation.

Mrs. Rosehearts had learned to control her temper, but she still had her moments, Her face been bright red, her lips thinned, and she opened her mouth to start berating the young man.

“Floyd Leech! What did I tell you about calling people names?” A tall, slender women came up to them, pale skin and hair hue similar to the man in front of her. She wore a cream-colored dress and matching blazer, adorned with gold and pearls, and a matching wide brimmed hat. She was followed by Riddle, who looked a mix of anger and concern.

“Never do it in front of people, yeah, yeah.” The man named Floyd pouted, but brightened at the sight of Riddle. “Oh hey Lil Goldfishie! What's uuuup?”

Floyd jogged over to Riddle, halting him midstep as Mrs. Rosehearts noticed Riddle almost bristle, trying to sidestep and get around Floyd. He was failing.

“I apologize, you know how boys can be!” The woman in front of her also towered over her, though not nearly as much as her son did. “My Floyd doesn't mean anything by it, he just a silly boy.”

The blue haired woman laughed, then abruptly stopped, narrowing her golden gaze as she thinly smiled.

“You're the man's mother, I assume.” Mrs. Rosehearts replied, smoothing out her skirt and clutching her hands together. “He's very...spirited. He's from the Leech family? Is it safe to assume that your the Leech family matriarch?”

The other woman's sharp toothed smile grew as she nodded. “Yes. It's not often that I come to the surface. But it's wonderful to know that I'm as—oh—well-known, on the surface, as under the sea.”

Mrs. Rosehearts wouldn't use the word 'well-known' as much as she would infamous.

“Yes, well. I would just remind your son to not so blatantly call people names to their faces.” she said, clenching and unclenching her fist in an attempt to sooth herself. “I'm not sure what your customs are under the sea, but up here he would be considered a riffraff.”

For all her talk about politeness, Mrs. Rosehearts forgot herself at time and let things slip out of her mouth faster than she processed. She knew she pressed a button when Mrs. Leech's smile disappeared.

It was only for a moment, but with the blank face and the way her gold eyes bore into her, it felt like her body and soul were being grasped by something dark and violent.

Then that feeling was gone as Mrs. Leech smiled again and closed her eyes, tilting her head.

“He'll be fine, I'm sure he'll find his people. After all, it seems he's already found someone in your son.”

Both women moved their gazes to the pair, now bickering. Well, Riddle was, the one called Floyd, was just swaying on his heels as he grinned and make a comment here and there. Each one after the other seemed to fluster her son further, his cheeks growing in color as they spoke. Most people who knew her son would assume that the red was attributed to his rage, and it mostly was. But (fortunately or unfortunately, she couldn't decide) her son was much like her. It wasn't rage that made his eyes dart away each time their eyes met for too long. It wasn't rage that made him scuff his foot every so often. And it most certainly wasn't rage in his eyes.

Mrs. Rosehearts cleared her throat, turning away from Mrs. Leech and walking to her son.

“I don't know what you're implying, but I must be going now. My son and I still need to tour his dorm.”

Mrs. Leech watched the other woman walk away, sighing.

“Oh, what a disdainful woman. And her son is so lovely too…she really is like a lionfish.”

“Yeah, it's a good nickname for her, right Mama?” Floyd came bounding over, stretching his arms. “Is' too bad she's a stuck-up, gonna real annoying if she's my mother-in-law.”

“Hm, I'll just have to overcompensate then and be the best Mama for you and the little Riddle!” Mama Leech clapped her hands excitedly, sighing in bliss at the thought.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful to see the family grow big...oh! By the way, Floyd.” Mama Leech walked away, Floyd following after diligently. “I might have mentioned a little 'something' to him about your cute rambles about him. He was so cute, all red and flushed when I said you're positively infatuated, calling him cute and—”

“Aw what! Mama!”

[icarusredwings]

"Shh... shh It's alright.."

Logan's eyes flutter open, hearing the raspy voice. Like he's been crying. Sitting up, he watches as his husband was once again in the corner of their bedroom, rocking and patting his babydoll, sitting next to her wooden crib that Shop Class had made for him, Fordge's great niece Cherri to be exact. Sweet kid. Wade ruffled up her ears every morning, despite her groans to stop, she would giggle and become upset if he didn't.

God those kids loved him.. but it seemed recently this specifc kid, Their plastic kid at that- had his attention most evening's.

"Wade..?" He whispers, but he's ignored. This isn't uncommon. Usually, during these episodes, it was best to let him go. To let him rock the baby until she 'stopped crying' or until HE stopped crying.

"Yeah, I know sometimes things might not always make sense to you right now. But hey, what daddy always tell you? Straighten up, little soldier. Stiffen up that upper lip. What’chu crying about? You got me.. daddy won't let no one hurt'cha... Promise" He whispers, giving their daughter a small kiss on the scalp, holding her so gently and yet so firm, afraid of hurting her by squeezing and or dropping her.

The way he sat cross legged and stared at their daughter, Logan could almost see his cogs turning.

Was that so hard for his own father to do? To protect him? Not hurt him? Love him?

"Shhh... shhh..Now, hush little baby don’t you cry everythings gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up little lady I told ya, Daddy’s here to hold ya through the night."

Was that... Eminem??...

Of course Wade of all people would since Eminem to his infant...

He whispers, rocking back and forth with closed eyes, holding her tightly, patting her as he went on.

"I know mommy’s not here right now, and we don’t know why. We feel how we feel inside. I might seem a little crazy, pretty baby, but I promise mama's gon' be alright."

Look- Logan was old. But he wasn't that old. Wade had changed the lyrics. Just slightly enough to still match beat, but it meant so much, telling the baby doll that her 'feelings' mattered even if irrational, telling her that he was insane, and promising her everything was going to be alright.

You may not think so, but this was progress. Moments like these were looked down upon, and while people might not realize it, this sort of play IS a form of regression and was just as good as a coping mechanism as him playing with horses was, the only difference was he was playing with dolls. By comforting Evelyn, he was sootheing himself. It was much easier to tell someone else it was okay rather then yourself.

He was tricking his brain. Subconsciously forcing himself to believe things would be fine. The only part that he wasn't sure of was 'Evelyn's' need for a mommy. Was this Wade missing his own mother.. or was this missing Vanessa and what they could have had? V was still around. They saw her once a week at the very least. Still went on dates, Still hung out afterward (if you get my drift) The only thing really different was that the 'baby machine' was no longer in business. Having shut down a while ago. She had (at least- if Logan understood correctly) Had a partial hysterectomy so her painful periods would stop.

"And daddy’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. Imma give you the world, I’ma buy a diamond ring for you. Imma sing for you, I’ll do anything for you to see you smile." He sang quietly, giving her sweet hugs, soft kisses, and the patting became lighter, more off beat and calm.

It wasn't that Wade would be a "Bad" father but he could barley take care of himself. Anyone who knew him- actually knew him- knows Wade wouldn't ever be able to hurt a baby. Not on purpose anyway, but with how his mind was, it wasn't a good idea. Kids? Sure. A baby? No.. And it's not like Ness didn't talk to him about it beforehand, letting him know that she was keeping her eggs but they would never be able to have a baby unless someone agreed to be a surrogate. He wasn't mad. No, not at all. He understood perfectly.... a bit too perfectly.

Logan, being the person who he is though, could smell him crying in the shower later that day. He couldn't imagine being in those shoes.. to be told the person you were planning on having little kits with- Er I mean kids with- wouldn't be able to carry them anymore.

"And if that mockingbird don’t sing and the ring don’t shine, Imma break that birdies neck! I’ll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya and make him eat every karat, dont fuck with dad.. hah....you like that? Yeah?... Daddy's little psycho.." He smiles, seeming to have finally 'calmed' Evelyn enough for her to stop 'crying'.

Deep down, Evelyn scared him. Wade behaved as if she truly was telling him things at times. At first, he thought it was just his own voices playing tricks on him. And then he thought it was lingering elements of a bad dream, a random little girls voice running through a nightmare.

Wade went into detail about each dream, talking about it for days afterward, describing how his darling girl was reaching out for him, calling for her daddy with open arms. From the sounds of it, she wasn't an infant, though. Fluxuating ages but the ones where she begs him not to leave well... leaves him like this. In shambles, crying on the floor at 2 in the morning.

"You comin' to bed, papa bear?" He teases.

Glancing up, Wade sighs, the kind of relief in which he could finally lay Eve back in her cradle, giving it a good push before coming to crawl under the sheets. "Comin' mama bear."

[random-thot-generator]

A Nice Guy

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK x FEM READER

Summary: You've teased and taunted your neighbor Kyle for months on end, curious to see just how much a nice guy like him can take before he snaps. (And then, ya know, smut happens.)

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Explicit language, Explicit sexual content, P in V sex, Rough sex, Good boy Gaz has left the building, No use of Y/N

(Notes: This is just a smut purge, folks. Don't think about it too hard, just go with it. Hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 2.2K

-

Ask anyone in your building about the soldier who lives across the hall from you, and they all will basically tell you the same thing.

"He's a good lad."

"Solid bloke."

"Couldn't ask for a better mate."

"Such a nice young man."

So, general consensus: Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

Maybe a little too nice, you think.

You see how he looks at you, where his eyes linger. He may be a nice guy, but he's still a red-blooded man under that faded ball cap and warm, friendly smile. He just needs a little... push.

So, push him you do.

You make it hard for him to ignore you. It starts with lingering touches and longing looks, but soon graduates to less subtle overtures.

You stop him for a chat sans bra in the chilly hallway, an innocent smile on your lips when your nipples pebble under your tight tank top and his attentive gaze. He licks his lips and tries his best to maintain eye contact, but he fails again and again before you finally let him off the hook.

You see how his warm brown eyes darken and his breath hitches when you 'accidentally' brush your hand against the front of his trousers at the post boxes. You murmur a shy apology and bite your lip, but he sees the way your eyes slide down his torso to catch on the bulge below his belt. You raise your brows and smirk before sauntering away.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

He tries to avert his eyes when you bend over in your short skirt to pick up the keys you dropped, because, oops! you're such a little klutz. If he happened to catch a glimpse of red lace disappearing between your thighs, it's never mentioned.

He grins and bears it when you press up against him in the crowded lift, apologizing even as you back your ass up against his crotch. You're rewarded for your efforts when you feel his cock twitch in interest, and he leaves the lift with his workout bag clutched over his jock.

His smile is strained but indulgent when you stroke his thigh under the table at the pub. Your friends sit around you, laughing and drinking, oblivious to the torture you're inflicting on the poor man beside you. You giggle then hiccup, announcing that your last glass of wine went straight to your head. It's obvious that you're a little too drunk to be held responsible for your actions. Yet he never offers to remove your hand or stop you, so you knead his flexing thigh for the rest of the night.

Poor Kyle.

It becomes a game to you, winding him up. You revel in his pent-up frustration; love how he now glares at you with that feral light in his eyes when you peer up at him with innocent guile. You know he wants you, and you want him, too, but watching him struggle to maintain his control is just so addictive. It's a high like nothing you've ever experienced before, and you know you won't be satisfied until you make him break.

You just never expected him to break the way he did.

A fancy boxed mattress gets delivered to your flat, the delivery guy insisting that it's yours; the invoice backs him up. There's a card attached to it, a short note scribbled inside:

'Congratulations! You won!'

Did you win some random drawing? Sign up for a chance to win online? Then again, you're always buying raffle tickets from the kids in the building for some fundraiser or another.

It must be serendipity. You had been complaining about your old mattress hurting your back just the other day in the lift, and then, boom! A new mattress appears. You shrug it off and smile, pleased with your stroke of good luck. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth, you decide, and begin to drag the box into your flat.

"Need help with that, pet?"

It's Kyle, leaning in his open doorway, arms crossed over his chest, benign smile on his face. He's dressed for a lazy day at home- a tee, sweats and trainers, so, it's no bother helping you out. He steps forward and lifts the box to his shoulder, muscles bulging under the tight fit of his tee.

"Lead the way," he says, herding you back into your flat, making you jump when he kicks the door shut behind him.

He helps you remove your old mattress and unboxes the new one, grinning as you laugh in delight at the way it expands to full size before your eyes. The two of you wrestle it into position on your bed, then he helps you with the sheets.

You're bent over smoothing out the wrinkles when you feel him step behind you. You glance over your shoulder and the air catches in your throat. His legs brush the backs of your thighs as he steps closer, a dark, hungry expression on his face.

"Kyle—"

That's all you get out before his big hand lands on the small of your back and he slides it forward to press your chest into your new mattress. "Sorry, pet. Can't help myself," he apologizes, but he doesn't sound like he's sorry, and he doesn't remove his hand.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy. He would never take advantage of your vulnerable position. He would never crowd you forward, never grab you by the waist as he buckles your knees with his. He's not the type of guy who would manhandle you onto all fours on your brand-new mattress, would never dare to yank your leggings and panties down your thighs before burying two fingers knuckles-deep in your pussy.

Your grunt of surprise says it all.

But this is Kyle Garrick, the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet.

Yet the man who is now kneeling behind you with his fist clenched in your hair doesn't resemble that nice guy at all. This man is anything but nice, and he is intent on ruining you.

You whimper out a pitiful cry as his hand connects with your ass, hot and stinging. "Ah!" you squeak, embarrassed when you feel a trickle of arousal slip down your thigh.

His laugh is low and dark as he crooks his fingers inside you and smacks your ass again. You clench down hard on his stroking digits, gasping a cry when he plants his thumb on your clit and rubs hard, fast circles into it. Toes curling, your body jolts away from the intense stimulation, but he just barks a mean laugh and slaps your ass again before hauling you back.

You try lifting your head, but he tightens his fist in your hair and pushes your face back into the mattress with an amused, breathless grunt. "Oh, no ya don't. You wanted to tease me, huh?" he pants out as he hauls his cock and balls over the top of his sweatpants. He smacks the head against a reddened cheek. "Make me lose control?" he husks out as he hikes your hips higher. He grunts out a laugh. "Congratulations, pet. You won."

The words on the card dance before your eyes as his first thrust shoves your head into the pillows, sheets rucking up at your knees. Your shocked little cry makes him huff out another laugh. "Do ya like your prize, sweetheart?" he bites out, holding his full length inside you. He grips your hips hard enough to bruise as his chin drops to his chest. His breath hisses through his teeth before he mutters, "Fuck. Knew you'd feel good, but shit..."

He grunts out a low growl as he draws back his hips, a slow drag that acquaints you with every ridge and vein of his cock. You're clenching desperately, walls spasming as they try to cling onto his retreating length. He groans as he withdraws, not stopping until the ridge of his swollen tip catches on the rim of your entrance. He forces himself to look away from his glistening, wet length, yanking your head back to meet your eyes.

"Should I be the bigger person here, pet? Should I give ya what ya want, or should I tease ya with it?" he asks with a wicked grin as he circles his hips.

His hips then flex and his cock inches in just enough to give you hope before he pulls out again, and the walls of your cunt clench like a fist, squeezing the breath from your lungs.

You squirm and whine, trying to push your hips back, but he holds you firm. "Ah-ah! C'mon, I want to hear ya say it, first. Tell me what ya want." When you only whimper in frustration and jerk your hips, his hand cracks over your ass again as he gives your head a rough little shake. "Say it," he snarls.

Your mind is reeling. It's too much and not enough, and it's all happening so fast, but you got what you wanted. You made him break, you just never considered that he could break you, too, but now it's happening, what you've always wanted to happen, and it's...

... Just. Too. Much.

"You!" you cry out, plaintive and high. "I want— you!"

He sighs in satisfaction, his breath gusting over your back. "There she is. There's my girl," he moans, then spears your body on his length again, relishing the way your eyes go wide, how your lips form a perfect little 'O'.

He grips your hair and gives your head a lazy shake. "Now, say you're sorry," he croons.

You heave a sob, squeezing your eyes shut, shaking your head no, even as you begin to chant out a breathy, "'M sorry, 'm sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorry..."

A dark chuckle makes you shiver as he folds himself over your back, his plush lips pressing a tender kiss behind your ear. "I forgive you," he whispers, letting go of your hair to smooth it away from your face. "Now, show me how sorry you are."

Hooking his hand over your shoulder, he takes hold of your hip and proceeds to pound you into the mattress. You keen his name out as your back arches, and his next thrust collapses your knees. "That's it, love," he puffs out, riding you into the bed. "Cry for me... Tell me how sorry ya are... for making me wait so long."

You would if you could, because you are sorry. You are so-so sorry for making him wait and denying yourself, but words escape you. With his big hand splayed between your shoulder blades, his hips rocking between your trembling thighs, the ability to speak abandons you, leaving you to babble incoherent sounds into the sheets.

His grunts and hissed curses are your benediction. His bruising thrusts battering your tender folds, the slap of his balls against your swollen clit are your atonement. The sweat that drips from his chin to patter across your back is his blessing.

This is how he forgives you.

Your pelvic muscles tighten, walls bearing down. He's worked you up so fast, your building orgasm takes you by surprise. It barrels past you at a speed that you can't keep up with and slams you into a wall, your release gushing as your core contracts. You clench so hard it makes you cry out, a pleasure that dances on a razor's edge of pain.

"Bloody— hell!" Kyle whines, bowing over you as you grip him like a vice. "I can't... You're too... Fuck!" he snarls out.

His hand grips your shoulder as his hips begin to piston, rutting into your tight, spasming walls as he comes unhinged. A string of curses and praise pour over your head as his weight presses you into the bed. He's dragging your orgasm out to a point of overstimulation, but there's no escape. You lie beneath him and pay your penance, wailing when he wrenches another orgasm from your body on the heels of the last one.

Your spine curves when you cum, cunt pulsing, working to pull him deeper, and it's all over for him. He plows forward with one last feral growl, and then his body seizes up behind you, cock buried to the hilt between your shaking legs. His hips jerk with his release, his breath choking off in his throat.

And you're just... gone.

You can see, you can hear, you can feel, but your brain isn't really processing any of it. Awareness is slow to return, but eventually you become aware of the heavy weight covering your prone form, can feel the heaving breaths warm and damp against your neck, notice how hot your skin feels compared to the cold, sticky puddle on the sheets between your spread thighs.

You moan and twitch, unable to move, stirring the man above you into action. The heavy weight is lifted away, and you feel buoyed up on the new mattress, your body now floating with your blissed-out brain.

Kyle flops over on his back beside you, hooded eyes peering up at the ceiling as he tucks an arm behind his head. He waits until his breath has evened out before he turns his head to look at you. There is hesitance in his expression and caution in his gaze, but hope is there, too, flickering behind his eyes.

You blink, sighing out a breath as your lips curve into a slow smile.

"Thanks for the new mattress, Kyle."

He smirks, brown eyes going soft and warm as he hooks his arm around your waist to drag you closer. Hand cupping your ass, he claims a kiss before he whispers against your lips, "You're welcome."

-

[tojigasm]

brainrot for dilf!jake always calling his mate "kid" to the point when they're adapting to the metkayina, the village is mistaken that she's his actual child, like he calls kiri babygirl, they all assume he's affectionate with his children and don't know any better, and slightly bimbo reader like "everyone in the village is so nice, they're giving me so many gifts!" not realizing they're trying to court her, so jake being jake finds the need to remind her of her place and let everyone know that they're mates

thinking many thoughts...

Jake only started noticing the various jewelry and picked flowers are strewn about your hammock when you'd came home one day after swimming with Tuk, a pearl hung around your neck.

You let Tuk run off, sitting down to cut fruit when Jake made his way over to your seated form.

Standing above you, he runs his fingers over the leather band, running the pad of his thumb over the pearl. Placing your knife to the floor you look up at him with a soft smile.

"Where'd you get this?" clicks his tongue, ears bent back some.

you look to the pearl in his hand, "Oh! one of the Metkayina gave it to me," you cup your hand around his larger one, "Said it deserved to be worn by someone pretty."

Jake's ears flatten at that, still playing with the beaded jewelry before he shakes his head, "they tryin' to court you, kid."

Immediately your ears perk up, "but I'm already mated," you scoff lightly, gesturing to Jake.

"I don't think they know that," Jake hisses, "take it off." And you know to follow immediately, pulling the necklace off to hand to him.

Jake throws the accessory to the side before pushing his hand into your chest, pressing you into the ground.

"Think daddy needs to get you fucked out again, huh," he grabs your jaw, pulling you upwards to smell you, "fuckin christ," he rolls his eyes through a growl, "smell like that idiot n'everything."

You don't say anything, letting him maneuver you onto your hands and knees. Jake stands above you, either thigh pressing into your own.

"Not gonna say anything?" He yanks at the base of your braid and you hiss through a hurt whine.

"M'sorry, m'sorry!" You fall to your forearms, "thought he knew–" you're cut off by a harsh slap to the flesh of your ass.

Jake grabs your jaw again, pulling you back some to meet his eyes, "you're gonna get this little pussy fucked, and you're gonna keep your fuckin' trap shut." He hooks two fingers into your cunt with a groan. "Jesus, you're so tight." Jake presses the tip of his cock against your folds and you moan beneath him, grabbing a small hand at his ankle.

He sinks into you with a strained hiss, pressing his chest to your back to fill you completely. "Gonna have you walkin' around all swollen and pretty," Jake kisses at your cheek, pulling out some to thrust right back into your heat.

You squeal at that, walls tightening around him and Jake chuckles from above you, reaching a hand under your chest to hold you up by your neck.

"Fucker won't try that shit again," Jake growls, "smell me on ya from a mile away, huh, sweetheart. "

You nod in his grasp, crying softly when he speeds up some, balls hitting your soft folds.

"God, you're fuckin' unreal," he drops your neck to press you into the floor, grabbing your braid to connect with his own.

The instant bond makes your eyes roll back and your walls clench around the swell of him. Jake plants his hands on the floor beside your head, sinking to the hilt with a shiver, "m'gonna cum, kid."

He drops his head to your shoulder blades, watching his length slide in and out of you. And he fills you with a heated groan, pushing himself so deep you cry and grab at the floor to ground yourself.

Jake stays like that for a while, pressing soft kisses to the base of your neck and shoulders before pulling out of your heat with a shivered hiss.

"Such a good girl." Jake cooes, helping you to the ground. He slots himself behind you, running a hand up and down your shaky thighs.

—

In time, you're heavy and swollen and tired. Doing the most you can to help around the clan to not feel completely unable of the activities you once enjoyed. Yet at times, Jake catches you doing something he deems unfit and you're getting hissed at and sent to what you refer to as 'time out.'

So you'd settled on wandering about the clan, collecting seashells and petting the Ilu that swam up to shallow waters.

One day, you'd been out among the beach, watching Kiri and Tuk in the water when you notcied Jake making his way over to you.

"Hi there pretty girl," he cupped you to his chest, kissing your temple. "Whatcha doin' out here, hm?"

"Watching the girls play," you giggled, eyes still focused on the two of them jumping into the water.

Jake kept your back pressed to his chest, scanning the area when his eyes caught a male Metkayina, not much younger than him, who'd been staring at you.

Narrowing his eyes, Jake pressed a kiss to the back of your head, shifting slightly to block the other na'vi's view of you. Bringing a hand up to rub over the length of your middle, "look so pretty carrying my baby, sweetheart," Jake cooed, kissing your jaw gently.

You looked up at him with a smile, letting Jake cup your head to his chest, fondling the shells of the new necklace he'd put around your neck only a few days after you'd found out you were pregnant.

[strlingsav]

hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*

Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀

Always

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.

It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.

You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".

It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.

Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.

Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.

"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.

"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"

"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.

"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."

"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."

"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.

You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.

"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."

His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.

"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.

You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.

"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."

"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."

You grinned.

Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."

You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.

Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.

"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."

You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.

"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."

You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.

"Here," He handed you the second.

You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.

He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.

It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.

Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.

You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.

You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.

You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.

It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.

It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.

"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.

You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.

"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Johnny."

"You're a mean drunk, kid."

"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."

Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.

"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.

"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.

You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.

You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.

"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."

"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.

"Bullshit," You grinned.

He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.

"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.

"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.

"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.

"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."

You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.

"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."

"Not when you're pissed," He commented.

You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.

"You're pissed," He nodded.

"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."

"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.

"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."

He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"

"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.

He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.

"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.

"It's nothin'." He looked amused.

"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.

"Far from it."

You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.

"I've never seen that side of you."

"No reason to."

"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."

Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.

"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.

He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.

He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.

"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.

He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.

"Think you've had enough for the night."

He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.

"Maybe," You nodded.

Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.

"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."

You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.

You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.

Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.

You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.

You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.

"I'm over there," You pointed.

"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."

You frowned, "Fair point."

As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.

Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.

You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.

"Here," He said, holding them out to you.

"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.

He nodded.

You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.

"Thank you."

"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.

His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.

"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.

You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."

He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.

He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."

"Stop thinking for once," You teased.

He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.

"If only," He replied.

"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.

You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.

"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.

You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.

"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."

"You're my responsibility."

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?

"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."

"For you, yeah."

Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.

You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.

"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."

"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.

"Why?"

He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.

"Think you know."

He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.

"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.

His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."

You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.

You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.

"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.

He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.

His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.

You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.

"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.

You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.

He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.

He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.

He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.

In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.

He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.

"Y'look good in my shirt."

A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.

You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.

You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.

You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.

"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.

Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.

"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.

He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.

He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.

His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.

"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.

"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."

You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.

It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.

"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."

"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.

His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.

"God, Simon."

"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.

You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.

You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.

He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.

You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.

"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."

Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.

He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.

"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."

"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.

His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.

"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."

"Simon," You whispered.

His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.

"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.

"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."

"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.

"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."

You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.

He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.

He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.

"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."

Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.

He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.

"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.

He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."

[willow-scorp]

Forever in love with the bat kids "no one can hurt my sibling but me" relationship. Especially Tim and Damian. Because I love the idea that even though they are constantly fighting and Damian only just stopped trying to kill Tim they will still beat the shit out of anyone who insults or hurts the other.

I'm just imagining that one day some jackass new hero makes a joke about how Tim isn't that important or that he's such a depressed coffee addict or smth and Damian is the first of any of the bat kids to not say anything but straight up break their kneecaps, because Damian knows how much deeper Tim's personality and character is, and ya he might have depression but most young superheros do! Tim is more than coffee and sleep deprivation and it makes Damian pissed when people reduce the intelligence that rivals batman to mental illness.

And when someone makes a comment on Damian being a demon or a spoiled brat Tim doesn't even hesitate to expose their deepest darkest shit to their friends and family/the world. Because Tim knows how hard Damian works to prove himself. Hes been in the "have to prove you belong in this family" shoes, different circumstances same issue. He won't allow anyone to make Damian feel like he doesn't belong in his own family and he certainly won't allow anyone to make Damian think all the good he does hasn't made an impact.

Just imagine the two of them progressing from enemies to brothers. The kind of sibling bond that means Tim will pick Damian up, mess his hair up and call him a loser but will still buy him boba like 20 minutes later. Damian will leave Tim's door open after walking in and doing nothing BC's he knows it pisses Tim off and they will fight like cats and dogs but the next day will sit with tim and play on his switch while Tim is working beside because they enjoy each other's presence.

Just brother Tim and Damian figuring it out.

[auroreliis]

Hi can you please write a fic of yandere batfam with fem reader who is so so so in love with this guy that she's friends with, maybe the batfam get to take her to a party because they don't trust her on her own thinking she'd try to escape so they bring her but her friends are there and they see her stuttering and blushing with one guy. She looks so in love with him and is completely head over heels. Can I request a whole long fic for this?

Can do! I did have to change it a little in order to make the yandere-ish concept a little more apparent. Hope you don't mind ^^

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're in love, but how does your family feel about it?

CW: slight social isolation

(not edited or proofread)

"No", Dick's words caused to to turn to him.

"I asked dad, not you", you argued, not content with his reply.

"I said no, it doesn't matter who you asked. The answer is no. You will not be going to that party", Richard stated firmly.

"Your brother has a point, you go to school to learn things, not to make friends. You have no reason to go to that party.", your father chimed in.

"Please, dad. Can I please go?", you begged, hoping to change his mind.

Bruce sighed inaudibly, "I'm sorry, but no."

You huffed in disappointment before leaving angrily.

This was ridiculous.

They didn't allow you to participate in any human interaction outside of the manor.

You did have friends, but they only recently found out about it.

There was this person in your friend group who made your knees weak.

However, you couldn't tell them that they were the reason you wanted to go to the party, because they would fume.

You had no idea what they would do, if they found out that you were in love with someone, but you assume that they would hurt them or something.

You slammed your door shut, hoping they heard it and maybe decided to change their minds, before throwing yourself onto your bed.

They were hopeless, utterly hopeless.

A knock on your door made you think that they had, in fact, changed their minds, but you opened the door to find Jason standing there, instead.

"What's wrong, kiddo?", Jason asked.

"I'm not a kid. Also, dad and Dick won't let me go to a party", you muttered in defeat, slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was no way you were going to see your beloved.

"A party, well, they probably assume you'll be doing drugs or some other shit. No wonder they won't let you", Jason tried to comfort you.

"Drugs? What, no! Obviously not! I just want to spend time with my friends", you defended yourself.

Jason hummed in thought.

"Alright, if you agree to spend time with with me, I'll take you to the party", he spoke, a smug grin on his face, since he knew you would agree.

"What will we be doing?", you stalled, feeling this was too good to be true.

"I won't tell you yet, so make your choice."

A groan escaped your lips, "Fine. Just take me to that party!"

Huffing in defeat, you stood in front of the entrance, not willing to go in yet.

"This...isn't quite what I had in mind", you spoke, tugging at the handcuff attached to your right hand and Jason's left.

"Well, I can't let you leave, can I? Bruce would kill me", he spoke, obviously not concerned at all.

"Well, if I enter this house chained to you, people are going to think that YOU'LL kill ME."

Jason gasped dramatically, "I would never!"

You didn't bother replying.

You just wanted to go back home at this point.

You would rather not be chained to Jason, but there was no way that he would let you run around freely like that. You should've known.

Your hand lightly tugged at the handcuff, hoping it would release you from its bounds, but to no avail.

"Listen, if ya don't wanna go in, we can go back home-" "No!", you cut him off.

You decided that you would like to see your beloved first.

Talking to them was...awkward to say the least. Jason was chained to your hand and all but stared holes through your beloved.

They were quite intimidated and left.

Not only was your brother scary, but you were also shaking, not from fear though, you were so nervous about talking to them, that you barely formed a full sentence.

This was dreadful to you.

Jason, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He doesn't get invited to parties often, so this was new for him. Not that he was invited to this one or anything.

"Let's go", you mumbled to him, after all of your friends left out of fear.

"Already? I thought you were so desperate to go to this party?", he mocked.

That tone. You immediately recognised that tone.

He was making fun of you.

He was purposefully scaring away your friends.

Your blood boiled and for a moment you were tempted to punch him, but he was much stronger than you and would undoubtedly get irritated if you tried.

So you stayed silent, taking in all of the information you just recieved. He probably only offered to take you to the party to see who your friends were.

You scolded yourself for not realising sooner.

Of course.

Why else would he take you to the party?

He only ever makes things difficult for you.

You should've known.

Your mind wandered for the rest of the night.

All of your memories were blurry. You don't even remember how you got home, all you remember was throwing yourself onto your bed.

You were lost in thought.

They didn't even let you fall in love. Would you ever be able to have a normal life again?

There was a knock at the door.

Your eyes shut and you sighed.

Here we go again.

[ddollfface]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"Your clothes would look nice on my bedroom floor."

Trigger Warnings; not proofread, pretty sure reader is described as 'girlfriend' or 'girl' somewhere, yandere behavior, extremely toxic behavior, manipulation, rip if you know someone like this irl, abuse of systems, abuse of pretty privilege (can't relate lol), and, as usual, bad writing. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Here 'ya go 💗!Nonny, the second part of your request!! I hope it's to your standards... I'm not proofreading anything I'm putting out rn. I'm way too tired. I hope everyone had a good President's weekend))

Our boy is literally the definition of pretty privilege. He's got everything a girl would ever want, and he's the envy of all the guys on campus. He's sculpted like a Greek god, thanks to his Persian genetics and daily visits to the gym.

Everyone and anyone will listen to what LoveSick!Athlete's gotta say, and they'll do whatever he's asked, if he's saying it in a certain tone with a certain face. This is his manipulative personality coming into play. He understands that people will listen to him, for whatever reason, and he uses it to his advantage, scaring away any guys you may or may not find attractive.

Usually, it's pretty easy to do as they're just one of your classmates that you just find handsome, but you've never thought of talking to them, much less pursuing them. You're introverted personality (in this type of darling) makes it easy for him to keep you all to himself.

The two of you have been together for years, ever since you were little kids, and you trust everything he says, but not for superficial reasons like everyone else. You see him for who he is. You understand that he'd never do anything to hurt you; I'm just looking out for you, yeah? Just take my word for it, he's not worth your time.

In this case, with this darling, the two of you aren't dating, in your eyes at least. And LoveSick!Athlete has been pursuing you for quite some time, but he's patient. The two of you are practically attached at the hip, and that alone scares off any of your suitors, so even if you find someone (guy or chick) attractive, then they're gone before you can even say 'hello'.

Now, I've gone over how LoveSick!Athlete deals with his 'competitors', though he doesn't see them as this, in this post. This post is more geared toward how he deals with jealousy, but I drabble on the idea of putting down other men and making you see them in a bad light.

LoveSick!Athlete don't see these men, no matter how you see them, as a threat to your relationship, nor his ego. The two of you are far too out of reach for them to touch; they can't get to you, but it's different when it's his teammate. Especially since he never shuts up about them, so they know that he's pursuing you or you're in a relationship (depending on the time).

Overall, I think LoveSick!Athlete would treat the situation similarly with his teammate as he would with some random guy, but he'll have a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he sees said teammate now. It's possible that he'll be rougher with them on the ice, pushing them harder, elbowing them, and tripping them. Of course, no one will notice. After all, he's their star player, he'd never do anything to hurt his teammates, never.

He'll bad mouth them, behind their back of course, to his other teammates and you, can't forget about you. He'll go on and on about all the things they've done over the summer while school was out. How they're so aggressive toward girls, especially the ones that say 'no' to him. You wouldn't believe what Sonia told me, sweets. She said...

Once you get him talking, he won't stop. LoveSick!Athlete would never, ever, miss the opportunity to trash on of his rivals. If the guy seems persistent and tries to talk to you, god, let alone he touches you, he'll rain hellfire on the campus. He'll get some college girls to go report him to the campus office, saying that they were assaulted by him. LoveSick!Athlete might even plant some drugs into the guy's bag, causing him to lose his athletic scholarship.

And if the guy tries to tell on him, like a rat, then he'll just be brushed off as "desperate" and "attention-seeking." That he's trying to push the blame on someone else, 'cause there's no way LoveSick!Athlete would ever do something like that.

He's the team's sweetheart, after all.

[fangirlingpuggle]

Prism pines au

Does Mc gucket have a good bond with the kids? Like after the whole memory thing, I think Mabel and dipper unconsciously repair his mind.

Making him less hillbilly and more like him old self.

Also mc gucket later on talking with Ford.

Ford: it's really good to be able to talk like this again

Mcgucket: yes I reckon it is, ah but one thing!

Mcgucket pulls out high tech weapon on Ford. Ford now confused and somewhat scared.

Mcgucket: my friend if you EVER hurt those kids of yours in any way I'll hunt ye down like an animal and hide ya body we're no one can find it. You won't even come back as the undead ya hear.

Ford nodding out of fear/respect.

Mcgucket putting away weapons: good now let's get back to the food it's getting cold.

Ford thinking I just found a trusted babysitter.

Hey I love that idea.

In original AU idea McGucket was scared of twins very scared as couldn't remember Bill but twins reminded him of him with powers and such, he's just really scared of them and doesn't know/remember why.

The twins of course still try and help him and he slowly starts warming up to them but then will see powers and just freak out as remembers more of Bill and is confused mixing times up in head.

Ironically the better he gets/everything he remembers something it sets him back and he's mores scared of twins... it's a slow process, but he eventually is fond of twins and does care for them but that fear takes a long time to go away.

[sentoooo]

[anon: Hi can you write an Alphabet head cannon for Johnny cage and male reader?] i assume you mean an nsfw alphabet? i cannot find any other alphabet, so i apologize if i got it wrong T_T.

startin off strong with THE johnny cage. john john. yeah. that guy.

cw: nsfw, mxm, bodyworship, little bit of praise, edging, johnny fuckin' cage, baby. proofread MINORS DNI

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ || ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Johnny's actually like a golden retriever. As much as he likes to show off,- and that doesn't mean he won't in bed either- he has a very tender side. Afterwards, he refuses to let you leave his arms. Need your clothes? Nope, he'll get them. As long as you hold his hand. Need a bath? He's carrying you to it. Maybe a little snack? Some water? Dragging you along for the adventure. And after all that, he'll tuck you both in, hold you reaaallll close, and whisper sweet nothings until either you or him are asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Johnny's favorite body part? God, what isn't to love about him? It's so hard to choose! Just kidding. It's his biceps and his pecs. He's proud of 'em. Makes him feel all big and strong, means you can't run away like Sonya did. Though, he still loves every part of his body equally. Let's not forget about his little friend down there.

On you, it has to be your thighs. Or maybe your hands? God, he can't choose. Everything about you is perfection to him. No, no, it's definitely your stomach! Wait... no. It's your face. Nah, that doesn't do you justice. It's everything. Genuinely. He can't choose. Don't ask him to.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's more than fine cumming anywhere. Inside? Gladly. On your thigh? Fuck yes. Stomach? Sign him up. It's like an autograph to him, as long as he gets to "sign" you, he's happy as hell.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's dominant, yes. He likes being the star of the show. But he will let you top him here and there. His dirty secret? Just how much he yearns to moan your name. Yell it, let him know who he belongs to. But he won't admit it. His pride can't take that hit. Not yet.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

God, what doesn't he know? He's an actor, baby. He's THE Cage. He's had more than his fair share of experience. He knows your body almost more than you do, exactly where to touch to illicit a reaction from you, just the right spots to hit, and those sweet sweet words that turn you on instantly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He love love loves cowgirl- or shall we call it cowboy? Not reverse, though. He needs to see your face. Has to. Non-negotiable. He likes to get his hands all over you, and he loves to see your pleasure. How else is he supposed to know that he's making you feel so damn good? Not that he isn't, god he knows, but just a reassurance.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

You're asking if Johnny Fuckin' Cage is serious? No. Hell no. He's crackin' jokes, but mainly he's praising himself. Not that he isn't praising you, either. But You hear a lot of "How's li'l Johnny treatin' ya?", in a way, it's kind of sexy. In a very CAGE-y way, at least.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's got some body hair. Mainly, a happy trail, complimented by his V-Line. A little arm hair, but he keeps his chest clean. Pubic hair wise, he's got a little. Keeps himself trimmed, but still keeps some down there. Compliments his dick, that's what it does.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

God, he's so sweet it'll make your teeth hurt. Amongst his little ego-boosting, he swings praises your way. All honeyed, yet truthful nonetheless. His touch has always been full of longing, more so than lust. Everything he says is true. You know that. Regardless, he's gonna drill that into you. And drill into you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off quite frequently. Though, he will always, always prefer you. Being in you, your hand, your mouth. But with his sex drive, he jacks off at least once a week, and if you aren't around, 7 days a week, baby. Always thinkin' of you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Body worship. Through and through. He fuckin' loves it when you're all over him, gliding your hands from his collarbone to his waist, tracing his V-line, his abs, his tattoos, all with such love and yearning. Taking almost 30 minutes to explore each others bodies before anything goes in anywhere is always a pre-requisite.

He also LOVES edging. You, specifically. He's an asshole that way. Listening to you beg, whimper, cry to release. To cum allll over you and him. Fuck, does that get him going. He's almost let you just cum each and every time. One of these days, he's gonna break.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, baby. Anywhere, anytime. He is always down. Shower sex? Yes. Quickie in a restroom somewhere? As long as it's as clean as a Bucca Di Beppo bathroom, yes. Speaking of, god, if he could fuck you in a Bucca Di Beppo, he so would. Now THAT'S fine dinin'.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, always you. But specifically when you're fighting anyone. Not him, of course, shit, he's terrified of you. But all determined like that, nose bloody, knuckles bloodied, bruised. God, you are just SEETHING with sexual energy. And damn, he's going to fuck you after you win. However you like, baby.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that'll hurt you. Hard no for him. He refuses to do anything of the sort. He can't hurt that pretty little body of yours, can he? No, no he can't. That is a cardinal sin, baby. He can't even fight you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh, he loves giving. And he doesn't mind receiving. But fuck, he loves watching you squirm, gripping the sheets, and running your hands through his hair as he goes down on you. And he loves how you reward him after, it's like dessert.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can go however fast you like, baby. You feelin' like enjoying the night, all romantic and sensual? Absolutely, anything for you. He will make the first round last for an hour. Feelin' especially frisky and want to scream his name all night (and all day, if your stamina so permits it)? Fuck. Yes. Say no more.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'll do 'em. He aint afraid. Especially if you two only have time for that. He'll make sure your both satisfied and have both came. At least twice. But he does prefer having the full experience. He likes having you anytime, though.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Always, and forever, babe. He'll try everything at least once. He's fucked you in the most scandalous places before, too. One time, he was fairly sure Liu Kang was watching. That's why he fucked ya then and there.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hours, day and night. Ride him like a horse. He'll wear that cowboy hat for ya, too. At least, that's what he said. The longest you've two have lasted was from 12am-4am. With breaks. But he sure didn't seem winded. Not in the slightest.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

So. Fucking. Many. For you, for him, for both of you. He loves watching you pleasure yourself with his toys. And vice versa. He loves torturing you with em, too. Watching you nearly tap out and lean up against him cause you couldn't hold yourself up while he was fuckin' ya senseless and using a remote-control cockring. He also LOVES his sybian. Both of you grinding up, little bit of frotting, knowing you feel just as good as he does. Fuck, it makes him hard at the thought.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he's a fucking dickhead. As mentioned, he LOVES to edge you. How weak you are against him, yet knowing you want more, knowing you love it. He could do it all night baby. Make sure you got good impulse control. He won't hold back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's LOUD, baby, real loud. He wants you to know how good you make him feel. And he wants to praise you. How good you are, taking his dick. Like a champ. He'll moan, and grunt, and growl. All in your ear, too. He knows you like it. A little bit of breath play, for a good boy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The amount of sex tapes in his phone is INSANE. But he won't post em, not if you don't want it. He knows his adoring fans would love it, and he'd LOVE to show off his boy to all of em. He gets off watchin' 'em, too. Are you surprised?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a biiiig boy. Took you a bit to get used to him. He's a shower, though. He's about 6.7" in length, and 1.9" wide. Leans slightly to the left. Circumsized.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's gotta fuck ya at least once a day. His sex drive is through the roof, I mean. He's Johnny Cage. If he doesn't get his dick wet once a day, who is he?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Yeah, he's tired as shit afterwards, but until you have been cleaned up, drank, and ate if you needed to, then he's out. He refuses to fall asleep beforehand. And normally, he has to make sure you fell asleep first.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Backdoor - Shigaraki x fem reader (Anal sex)

Notes: some people may remember anal being in my "do not request" list, but I've become more open-minded lately. I have a complicated relationship with anal so I was hoping to write a fic that was realistic and not hard ramming up the ass sex with no lube. I am projecting with this fic so bad

Warnings: Anal, 18+ (minors don't interact), fem-reader, reader experiences pain, Shigaraki is considerate and is actually somewhat scared of hurting the reader, soft Tomura and I won't apologize for making him a sweetheart, praise!!!, clitoral fingering, white-haired Shigaraki (s5ish), reader is immune to Tomura's quirk, no condom but they use hella lube, after sex pillow talk

Word Count: 3001

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

When it came to anal, you felt at a loss. Would you love to appease this little fantasy of his? Sure. But it wasn't an easy task and it wasn't your fault that your ass wasn't designed for any visitors.

It made you feel bad because you wanted to meet Tomura's needs. You'd catch him late at night watching some pretty crazy porn while you were sleeping. Some of it involved anal. Not always, but frequent enough to make you feel like you weren't enough for him.

You were actually the one who brought it up first. Tomura had made anal jokes here and there, but he seemed to catch the drift that you didn't want to. He understood that it would hurt, but he was convinced that you were drilling most of that anxiety in your head. Not that he'd admit it to most people, but he had experimented with anal himself on a rare occasion. He surprisingly discovered that taking it up the ass was pleasurable for him. He just needed to lather himself with spit and he was good (do not use spit, don't be like Shigaraki).

So why didn't you like it? Well, put simply. Ow. It fucking hurt. You knew because you had tried it with your sex toys and every time you put yourself through agonizing pain that wasn't like any other feeling. You panicked when that pain would stab you instantly, and you'd immediately take it out. It made you feel insecure and undesirable.

When you brought it up to Tomura, the instant giddy look on his face told you upfront that he had been waiting for this moment like a kid on Christmas Eve. A part of you felt squeamish about his instant agreeable response, and another part of you simply melted away at his cute smile.

"If..if we did it. Would you stop? If it hurt?" you asked while spacing out.

"Yeah, of course. But, like, it's gonna probably hurt at first. Gotta push through it," he slied at you.

Tomura noticed your brows furrow in fear and almost felt guilt. You're the one who proposed this idea, though. You didn't have to bring this up, but you did. He was a little confused but nonetheless excited. Your pussy was incredible and nothing could ever take the place of that gushy warm wetness. However, he wanted to try another side of the cake. Spice things up.

"Hey, hey," he said cooed with a soft, raspy voice. "I'll be easy on you, alright? Nothing crazy. Think of this as testing the waters."

"I-uhm, okay," you nodded shyly. Tomura stepped closer and rubbed his thumb on your cheek in attempts to comfort you.

"Ya sure?"

"I am. I trust you, Tomura."

That's a bold statement, he thought.

"Hehehee, okayyy. Sooo, now? Are we doing this now?" Tomura perked up with a beam in his eyes. You could already see that his crotch looked a little bigger through his pants, though constricted by how tight his jeans were.

"Yea,, uhm. I actually got something that I thought would help."

"You mean lube?"

"Yea. I know some guys think it ruins the fun but-"

"Are you assuming that I'm like "other guys?" Your misandry is showing, y/n," he jokes with a chuckle.

"No! I just know it probably ruins how tight it feels."

"I wouldn't know, but "probably" not. I don't need you cutting the circulation off to my dick, anyway."

You laughed at his witty remarks, which in turn eased the tension you felt about what you were going to do with him. As you both sat on the bed, laughing at each other, Tomura took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb in your palm.

"I'll take good care of you, okay? You don't have to be scared."

Instinctively, you relax into his embrace, resting your head on his chest while he held you snug. "So damn emotional," he thought cockily, though Tomura absolutely adored it when you needed his affection like this. He knew better that the invitation you gave him to your ass was probably an attempt to secure your bond with him. Perhaps you thought he'd love you more if you did this. Not exactly true, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He has wanted this since he met you. He'd keep these fluffy thoughts of his to himself, at least until it was over and done with.

Tomura kissed your temple first, then started teasing his way to your neck. He gave you love bites on your neck and shoulders, making you yelp out a tiny "ow!" His teeth were as sharp as knives sometimes, but he tried his best to not be so rough.

Soft sex wasn't something Tomura was above. He liked making love, too, and just enjoying being in love with you. He was indeed rough, though. Needy may be an accurate way of saying it. Sex would start out slow and affectionate, but usually end up very fast and deep. He'd pound your pussy as if he was taking something out on you, maybe he was. Lucky for you his rough treatment made you tremble and cum hard underneath him, and you felt best when he finished inside and pulled you into a tight cuddle with him for the rest of the night. You just hoped he wouldn't be so aggressive tonight.

As Tomura continued to give your neck wet kisses, he trailed his fingers up the sides of your shirt, eagerly tugging it off.

"Hehe, boobies."

He could be such a fucking kid sometimes.

"Shut up."

"What did you say to me?" He says, gripping your jaw gently to face him. "Repeat that?"

You blushed so deeply and giggled, making him cock a smirk. He bit his lip as he stared at your tits that rested in your bra, having no remorse for his gaze. "Take this off."

Obliging to his request, you hear a heavy "mmm" sound from Tomura's throat. When your tits bounced out of your cup bra, Shigaraki felt his dick strain. He didn't think much, and reached out to touch you shamelessly.

"Tomura!"

"I gotta get you wet," he muttered sensually. "God knows we could use all the help we can get in the lube department."

He squeezed, sucked, and pinched at you with hunger. Soon after, your pants were torn to shreds by his quirk (while you were immune to his quirk, your clothes weren't), mostly because Tomura was getting irritated by how hard they were to get off of you. Once you were pantsless, he could see by the drench of your panties that you were hungry for him.

He reached inside of your underwear, searching for that little lady he loved to mess around with. Years on a game controller did him favors when it came to you. He found your clit easily and gave her gentle strokes. He could feel how swollen and soaked you were without even taking off your panties, and he became hungrier as you whimpered in pleasure.

"You like that, baby?" he asked in a half-genuine, half-conceded tone.

"Mmhmm," you nod vigorously with your eyes shut.

Tomura's fingers circled around your clit, building faster and faster as he went on. He could feel you beginning to contract your hips and relax as you lay back. You were close, and he was going to make you cum good. It's what you deserve for treating him with such a lovely present tonight.

You felt your clit begin to spasm, and waves of pleasure flooded your body. You let out a moan of gratitude and became wetter when you reached your orgasm. "Awhh Tomura-awhh~"

"Yeahh..that's a good girl. Cum all over my fingers."

"MNnnmm!"

Tomura kept swirling his fingers gently as you continued to ride out your orgasm, and as you came down from your high, he whipped your slickness downward.

"hmm-!" you shook, almost forgetting what the initial goal was. You froze as still as you could while he rubbed your pussy juice on your ass.

"Where's the lube you bought?"

"In my bag," you replied. Shigaraki quickly grabbed it and zipped back onto the bed with lightning speed. He set the lube beside you and continued rubbing your fluids on your ass. His fingers rested before your hole, pressing against it slowly.

"Tomura.."

"I'm going to loosen you up a little before I go in, okay? I'm not the smallest."

"Uh-huh."

"You'll be regretting that when it's up your ass."

You giggled and tried to relax the best you could. Tomura continued to talk," Actually, turn around."

"Okay," you complied, turning so that your ass was toward him. He pulled your panties down, revealing your perfect, full figure to him. He swore he was going to blow his load right there if he didn't reel himself in. His fingers returned, rubbing wet circles onto you. He finally decided to push them in, easing in with caution.

"Ah!"

Your exclamation probably startled Tomura more than what was happening to you. He removed his fingers quickly and decided to rub your ass to soothe you.

"You have to relax. If you tense up like that it's going to hurt like a bitch. Here, I'll get the lube, alright?"

He reached for the bottle and flicked the cap off. Taking a generous squirt of it on his fingers, he rubbed the cold substance into your hole. "Mm..." you whimpered in discomfort, though the lube was making it easier.

"Is it cold?" Tomura asks.

"Yea."

"Sorry. We're gonna have to use a lot of it, though."

"I know."

"Turn this way."

"Hm?"

"You know how people lay when they're getting a colonoscopy?"

"Uhhh..? Maybe?" you guess, not expecting such a bizarre question.

Tomura's hands guide you to lie on your side, with his fingers returning shortly after. From this angle, it felt more tolerable, though uncomfortable even so. His fingers moved in and out, fingering inside as he tried to stretch you to accommodate his impending penis.

"You have no idea how hard my cock is, y/n," he flirts, causing your body to respond with unintentional tension. "Don't stiffen up now. You're getting there."

You tried breathing throughout the sensation of his fingers, and you weren't quite sure if you were in pain or not. Tomura spoke as if he could read your mind.

"Does this hurt?"

"I don't know. I think it's okay."

"Well, you've been taking them for a bit, now. I think you're adjusting," Tomura reaches for the lube and lathers your, ass up more with it fingering the lube inside and making sure there's plenty up front for when he goes in.

"I think-or-I, uh.."Tomura clammed up, somewhat nervous himself. "Are you ready?"

He rubbed your lower back, listening for your reply. He kissed your neck affectionately while he waited for your answer, making you giggle for him.

"Yea. We can..we can do it."

"Good girl," he praised.

You smiled at him, watching him pull down his pants. His cock sprung out, looking painfully hard and oozing pre already. You didn't realize how sizeable he actually was. Was it really going to fit in you? Would it go in at all?

Tomura came in for a spoon, wrapping his arms around you for a moment while he pet your hair.

"I love you," he says adoringly.

"Eheh...really?"

"The fuck you mean, really?" He teases. "Of course I do. You're my favorite girl..and...I'm very happy to do this with you."

"I am too. I love you so much, Tomura."

"hehe she loves me..." he blushes jokingly. "I'm going to start, okay?"

"Mhm," you assure.

Tomura's cock rubs on your asscheek, startling you by it's texture. He guides it to your entrance and rubs it around you. As if it dawned upon him, he quickly grabs more lube and rubs some on his cock, and a bit more onto you, too.

"Jesus that's cold!" he quietly hissed. His cock was thoroughly coated with lube, and he focused back at your ass. His tip stopped at your hole, "I'm pushing in, kay?"

You only nodded. Tomura's cockhead felt big against your hole, much bigger than when he's going for your pussy. Your heart was throbbing, so you grabbed for Tomura's free arm and held him like a comfort item. He started pushing in.

At first you thought you weren't feeling much, but then he sunk further and an instant shock of pain surged in your insides.

"OW OW!" you exclaimed in pain.

"Fuck! Sorry!" He pulled out quick. He looked at your face, worried he was going to make you cry or hate him. Fuck, he'd hate if he hurt you more than he expected.

"It's, it's okay. Just..try again," you huff.

"Alright," he lined himself back up with more lube. "Breathe, baby."

You did as suggested, breathing as well as possible as he pushed his cock in, deeper and deeper. He was being slow, and honestly, the slower he went the more it hurt.

"Just go, please," you trembled.

Tomura didn't register what you said right and thought you were telling him to go. "Baby,-"

"Tomura, keep going, please," you begged, trying to fight away tears from the pain.

"Okay." He did as you asked of him, thrusting in and out as smoothly as he could. He was slow but moved consistently without pausing. As you seemed to become more used to him, he was finally processing the immense pleasure he was receiving from this.

"Awh~," he began sighing. "Fuck, your ass is so tight."

"Eheh...I imagine..." you said in discomfort, fumbling with his hand for comfort. He held your hand in his snuggly, and unconsciously his pace grew faster. He paused only for a moment to put more lube down, making sure to be quick when he remembered it hurt worse when he would stop inside.

"Nnnfff...fuck y/n.." he sighed into your neck, pushing in and out. "Does...fuck...does it hurt?"

"It's not so bad.." you hummed, admittedly feeling some pleasure in what you assumed was your internal clitoral system, even if it was outshined by the discomfort.

"Good..good girl...mMmmfff," his eyes rolled back (not that you could see) and his mouth hung agape as his thrusts got faster.

"Eas--easier, Tomu-"

"I know, baby. Fuck...sorry...UhMmm..~" He held you close and buried his face into your hair while he tried to keep his pace at bay. You smelled nice, and the sensations of your scent, your soft skin, and the feeling of your ass were driving him up the wall. You felt fucking incredible.

"Mmm.." you let out a small moan. He couldn't tell if you were faking it for his sake, but you still sounded hot and it was making him leak in your ass. "Awh~."

He wasn't going to last, he thought. You perked your ass up more to him, and he moved in you at a sensual rhythm in response. He grabbed your tits as he huffed his hot breath on your neck, making yearning, groaning noises. The lube provided enough help for him to move in your ass without having to stop a lot, but naturally, you were still tight. You were squeezing his dick, surely cutting off that circulation he was talking about earlier.

"Tomura.."

Fuck. There he goes. He fucked you faster when his orgasm overtook him, and he savored your ass every second as he came thick inside of you. "Fuckin-God.."

You could feel it oozing inside. Tomura wriggled himself in you until every drop of his cum was out, and he finished by pulling out of your ass. You felt instantly relieved by the lack of his cock, and turned around to see him smiling at you with his shit-eating grin. He kissed your forehead and hummed in a happy tone, his fingers reaching to stroke your hair.

"Good girl, well done, hehe.," he grinned at you with a cheeky smile. "Are you okay?"

You nod, tired beyond belief.

"Do you hurt?"

"It hurts less now that it's out," you remark.

His face scrunches up a little, assuming that you had no enjoyment from what you two did together. What did he expect? It wasn't like you had a prostate like he did, so there wasn't much you could get from it. Fuck! He should've at least played with your clit, he thought.

"Tomura?" you question, noticing his disturbed face. "What's the matter?"

"You didn't like it, did you?" he assumed.

You paused, but confessed, "It was uncomfortable. I did feel a little pressure somewhere that felt sorta good, but it was hard to get through."

"I'm sorry. You, uh. You just felt great, ya know? It's like your entire body was meant for me. From your quirk to your pussy to..there, too."

You lit up with laughter and a relief shot through Tomura. "I am meant for you. I'm all yours, Tomura. That's why I wanted to do this. I wanted to make you feel good."

"Well, thank you," he chuckled. "Do you need a shower? Or like, I don't know, another orgasm? My fingers don't have a refractory period, thankfully. I want to take care of you."

"Do you really?"

"Yea. You were so good to me tonight, you deserve to be spoiled," he smiled, tapping on your nose with the pad of his finger. You scrunched your nose cutely and and giggled at him, making his heart flutter.

"I just want cuddles."

"Really? That's all?"

"Yea," you grinned, kissing his jaw. "Pleeasse?"

"You can have as many cuddles as you need, my evil princess," he says, knowing full well how cringe that pet name sounded. "You'll have to clean up a bit, though. Unless you want cum in your ass all night."

"Yea, that's probably not good."

"Come wash up with me? Then we can cuddle, kay?"

"Ehehe, yes, Tomura. I love you."

"I love you more."