#I ain't complaining the least bit

[bumblingbee1]

Finally got my nonbinary wristband!!! 💛🤍💜🖤

[toxicanonymity]

Mama's Boy, 18+

slasher Joel masterlist | problematic playlist | AO3

PAIRING: Slasher!Joel x f!reader LENGTH: 7.2k words and none wasted tbh SUMMARY: Dinner at his mom's house, mostly. WARNINGS: 18+ dark, unsafe PinV, gunplay, degradation, a bit of angst, a whiff of incest, choking-adjacent, dark!reader, major revelations (!), feelings maybe? (god help us), mommy and daddy issues, slasher Joel needs a hug. NOTES: Today is not only mother's day, but also the 2nd anniversary of his first fic. This is packed. @flawssy-227 ty for your activism. And @thesummerpetrichor, I thought of you 🖤. Joel can carry reader.

It's Sunday. He lets himself in. 

“Still in bed? Must’ve been ass up face down pretty late last night, huh? Told ya i'd pick ya up… ”

You squint at him as your eyes adjust. “What are you talking about?” He has something draped over his shoulder.

Too much talking. Not enough fucking. 

He scoffs, “Really? Sunday dinner, slut.” He marches over to your nightstand with a snarl, picks up a folded piece of paper, and tosses it at you like a frisbee. 

Oh yeah. 

You unfold it as if it's the first time you've read it: “pick u up sunday.” There's a sketch of his fat cock and a thinner outline of what's presumably a dong next to it. “p.s. u need a real toy.” 

Well, here he is. Picking you up on Sunday, and he's even kinda cleaned himself up. A plaid shirt and jeans tighter than his work uniform. Looks like a normal guy you could pass in the supermarket, none the wiser that he’d shove a huge tool up your cunt.

He stands by your bed holding up one dress in each hand. Neither of them yours. 

“Now put on somethin’ decent.”  

He throws them onto the bed, then pulls a gun out of the back of his pants.  “What do you think? ” He gestures between them with the gun. 

One of the dresses is simple, clean lines, not far off from something you might normally wear. But it has a brown stain and a frayed edge. It doesn't feel right. 

The other dress is a strawberry plant pattern with short sleeves that puff out. It's faded and outdated, but clean and in decent shape–from what you can tell, at least.

“Got my own clothes,” you tell him.

But he insists, “This ain't the street corner, sugar. You're gonna pick one of these.”

“I'm too tired for this,” you complain, then add, “I dunno what makes you think I wanna go to your mom's house.” 

“Come on, baby…” He looks at the gun. “I don't wanna use this… unless I'm stuffin’ your muff with it later ”

After looking at both the dresses, you can't bear to put on the stained one and choose the strawberry print. You feel unexpectedly cute in what could have been plucked from a mid century catalogue for housewives, although it’s probably from modcloth circa 2015.

Turning around in the mirror, it’s actually really flattering, and there’s something kinda sexy about dressing up like this degenerate's pretty little wife…Yep, you're really doing this. 

Maybe it’s partly out of morbid curiosity, wanting to know where he came from. 

How he…. happened. 

He brings you a pair of your own shoes and puts them down for you to step into. 

“Yeah, that's my girl,” looking over your right shoulder at the bathroom mirror, he grabs your ass, then sticks his hand between your legs from behind, hooking his hand under you to reach your clit. Your feet spread reflexively, giving him more room. Still holding the gun in his right hand, the hand between your legs tents the dress as he strokes you, and your gut begins to swell with need. He spreads his feet and angles himself slightly toward you, getting close enough to press himself against you, letting you feel the warm log in those tight jeans, gun held against his meaty thigh. Your chest heats up and you adjust your tits in the dress, copping a feel of yourself while you’re at it. 

“Good girl ” he mutters. With a glint of affection in his eyes, he says, “You were born to wear this dress, kitten.” Now that he’s got you dripping, his fingers slip into the crotch of your panties and he shoves one, then two, inside. “Mm,” he grinds against you as he stuffs you with his fingers. Then he pulls them out and squats down. He lifts the skirt of the dress and yanks the panties down to your ankles. You lean forward and brace yourself on the sink. He stands up, slides the gun between your legs and the smooth, cool metal of the top of the barrel rubs through your slippery seam. Your hips tilt and he slides it forward one last time, before taking it away.

He pats your ass, and says, “Now c’mon, let's go.”

Not even the decency to fuck you first. Not even with the gun.

You scowl at him in the mirror. 

He asks, “Am I gonna have to drag you, kickin’ and screamin’?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply.��

“Alright,” he agrees, all too happy to oblige. He puts the sticky gun in the back of his pants, bends his knees. and lifts you over his shoulder with a grunt. 

He steps through your open back door and slams it behind him with one hand, his other arm braced over the bare backs of your knees. 

You yoink the gun from the back of his pants and he says, “God damnit, be careful with that,” without putting you down. 

“You seem pretty sure I won't shoot you,” you observe. 

“Course ya won't. Be like a … like a drug addict shootin’ their dealer… nah, shootin’ the drug cooker. Yeah. And he's the only cooker.”

He's getting slightly out of breath as he walks. Or maybe it’s the effort of all that thinking. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask.

“Cock hungry whore ain't gonna kill off the biggest cock she's got.” 

You press the edge of the barrel against the small of his back and nudge it into his jeans, then demand, “Put me down.” 

He groans in exasperation, stops, and sets you down in the side yard. 

You almost forget to point the firearm at him. Almost. With the gun raised, you ask, “What’s with the gun anyway? Thought knives were your thing.” 

He shrugs. “Special occasion?”

“Why do you want me to come to dinner so bad?”

“Cause I told her we were comin’, okay? Told her ya liked the casserole.”

For the first time, you notice his hair is a little bit combed. You ask, “What'd you tell her about me?”

“Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “She knows we met when I was workin’. Knows I gave ya a ride….knows ya ain't like other girls.” 

“What’s that mean?” You ask, adjusting your grip. 

“I dunno… ” He shrugs, then gets frustrated.  “I ain't brought home a girl home in a long time, okay? And she's gettin’ older, and…” 

When you've lowered the gun, he lunges forward, muttering, “Gimme that,” as he disarms you with ease that makes your heart skip a beat. He grabs you by the arm and marches you to the Volvo. He opens the passenger door and manhandles you into the seat. 

When he gets in the car, he leans over and buckles your seatbelt for you. He smells clean and minty. 

As he puts the car in drive, you ask, “What else did you tell her?”

“Uh…. She knows we ain't been on many dates.”

“Not many?” You ask with a laugh. “You mean none?”

He glances at you twice, suppressing a flattered smile at the implication he perceives. He wets his bottom lip. “That mean ya want to?” 

He holds the gun against his thigh and steers with one hand.

-

-

When you get to his Mom's house, he warns, “Just don't talk about all your whorin’ around, okay? She won't like it.” He checks his hair in the rear view mirror.  

You laugh, “What whoring around?” 

“All those skinny dicks in your phone,” he mutters, getting out of the car.

“Excuse me?” You ask, still sitting. 

“Just tell her about your day job instead,” he says, as if you genuinely don't think or talk about anything other than cock without prompting.

Wait--skinny dicks in your phone? Your train of thought dies when he puts the gun in the back of his pants, and in doing so exposes a few inches of skin, and the tail end of a scar. After he shuts the driver side door, you open yours while he hurries around to help you out. 

“Come on,” His big hand wraps around your inner elbow again. “We're gonna be late.”  He's slightly in front of you 

“Bringing a gun into your mother's house?” you ask as he pulls you along.

He freezes, then mumbles, “You're right. Don't want her to think you're a bad influence. Even if ya are.” 

What a gentleman. 

He goes and puts it in the glovebox, then jogs to catch up with you again. 

-

-

When she opens the door, Joel's mother beams at the sight of her son. She steps outside, frail and slow moving. She's pretty, with silky white hair that looks older than her face. The storm door creaks to a stuttering close behind her.  

At first, it's like you're invisible. He lets go of you, and they embrace. She reaches for the back of his neck and says,  “C'mere, baby,” pulling his face to hers. He kisses her on the cheek, then she kisses him, and then, as they separate, Joel gestures toward you. Her eyes are curious when they meet yours, then her face comes to life as her gaze falls down your body. She puts a hand on her hip as she checks you out, her other hand rising to her mouth for a moment, then resting on her chest, fingers centered in the hollow of her collar bone. 

“Joel,” she half-laughs in flirtatious accusation, then narrates, “Well, there she is…”

“Don't she look nice? ” Joel asks with a subtle smile and blush. 

His mom admires you with an air of disbelief, then goes in for a hug. Her fragrance isn't entirely new to your nostrils, and the sensory recall brings an unsettling tingle to your loins: The night Joel brought the leftovers.

She holds you close, pressing her body all the way against yours without fully relaxing. Firm and in control, and yet , she feels softer than she looks. Her bosom is like a warm pillow. Like a relic of young motherhood, reaching through time, tickling your inner child awake. 

As the hug ends, she gently pinches the puffed sleeves of your dress and says to Joel without looking at him, “Yes, baby. She looks real pretty.”  Then, glancing up from your dress, she tells you with a smile, “Can't promise strawberries, but I do have cherry pie. Come on in.”

“Thank you, ma’am” you nod. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she chuckles, “You can just call me Mama.” 

It sounds like you should know better. Like ‘Mama’ is the most obvious option. You glance at Joel, and he nods with a little smile of permission, as if that's what you’re looking for, and he's glad to give it.

Might as well rip the bandaid off: “Okay… Mama… well, it's nice of you to have me over.” In the back of your mind, you hope Joel doesn't think this is any special effort on your part. It's more like, your job requires manners, and this is your default setting with older folks. 

She holds the door open with her body and you have to graze past her. “Smells delicious,” you observe with genuine hunger, having slept through the first two meals of the day.

She straightens her frilled apron with a smile and suggests, “Joel, why don't you give your girl a tour while I finish up?” 

This is a relief - you hadn't been consciously dreading it, but worst case scenario, she would've asked you to help in the kitchen. She seems like that type. 

–

It’s a humble brick ranch. Dimly lit. Everything is out of style, but tidy.  There are a few bedroom doors, but he doesn’t open any of them, and you don’t pry. The paint in the hall is disrupted over a poorly repaired dent in the wall. You try not to look at the stains on the ceiling. 

One of the living room walls has a fireplace, and one wall is lined with pictures. There's a bare corner with nothing but a crochet rug – a rounded  rectangle, with raised crosses. The paint is newer over there. Bubbling and wanting to peel as the wall approaches the perpendicular wall, the one with the fireplace.

Before you can get a good look at anything, Joel steers you outside. In the small backyard, a wooden garden bed has overgrown with weeds. The lawn is nice and trim. “You help out with the yard?” You ask.

“Uh, sometimes,” he answers. “ She's got somebody else too .”

He rocks forward on his feet, arms crossed. 

“So... you gonna fuck me in your boyhood bedroom?” You ask, and he clears his throat with a forced smile, brows knitted.

“What?” you ask. “Why the hell else would you take my panties?” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, allowing himself only a brief glance at you, until he does a double take and admits, “Fuck, you look good.” He seems more distressed by it than anything.

No such luck, you guess, raising your eyebrows at the visible outline against his thigh. Never would've pictured him in jeans. 

He runs his hand through his hair, puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, and adjusts himself with effort before leading you back inside. His boot grazes the side of a metal bowl, sloshing water into dark spots on the cement.

-

-

She pours Joel a glass of milk with dinner, and when you politely decline, Joel says, “One glass won't hurt ya, baby .” Mama seems pleased to bring over the old fashioned bottle of milk. She rests her free arm on the back of your chair, with the fine lines of her cleavage near your eyes as she fills your glass. 

The meatloaf is delicious, with sauce that reminds you of barbecue. The mashed potatoes are over-buttered, but they hit the spot. She smiles to herself, satisfied to watch you eat. 

“So tell me about yourself,” she says. “Do you work?” 

You swallow your food, nod, and tell her which clinic you work at. 

“Oh,” she recognizes the name. “The one over on Main Street?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“That's nice,” she says. “Joel's going to own his own business one day. Do you ever want to own your own practice?” 

“Oh, no, I don't think so,” you answer, then ask Joel, “What kind of business?”

“Joel, I'm surprised you haven't told her,” his Mom says, then lowers her voice to a conspiratorial volume to tell you, “He’s too modest.” 

“Ya know, I guess a tow and repair one-stop shop,” Joel says. “Not a lot of guys do both, but I can really take care of ya. Same night, even. Late hours, too.” 

His mom nods. “I always knew he'd be successful,”  she says. “Even in the darker days.” 

Joel tenses and begins to tap his heel. “ How about you, Mama? ” he asks, “ What have you been up to? ”

“Oh, you know, this and that,” she says. “Crossword was a doozie today!” she laughs. “What are you two gonna do this week? Anything special?” 

You shrug and look at Joel. 

He starts, “Uh… ”

His Mom bails him out, “You oughta take her to the drive-in like I said, baby,”  then she asks you, "Would you like that, honey? You like the drive-in? We used to go, it was so nice.”

“Sure, I like movies,” you answer. 

“See, Joel? She likes movies.”

-

Joel finishes his meatloaf relatively quickly, and his mother puts another generous slice on his plate. 

“I don't need any more, Ma,” he says, but she doesn't listen, and he digs into it anyway. By his third slice, he’s pushed back in his chair, adjusting his belt. He pats his tummy and says, “There's nothin’ she makes that ain't good.”

“Only the best for my boy,” she agrees, then asks you, “Ain’t that right?” 

“Of course,” you agree.

“Oh! I saw Randall Junior earlier,” she says. “He came by and did the lawn.”

“Randy,” Joel corrects her. 

“Yeah, Randall’s son.”

“Randy,” Joel repeats. “He ain’t even a Junior, Ma. He’s the third.”

“Well, it was nice to see him,” she reminisces, fiddling with the corner of her placemat. She catches herself, smooths it down, then brings her hands together, fiddling with her left ring finger. “I swear, that boy’s an inch taller every time I see him.” 

“He’s in his thirties,” Joel tells you, drawing a genuine smile to your lips. One that brings a sparkle to his eyes. 

“Well, anyway,” she goes on, “A face like that belongs in the movies,” she chuckles to herself.  “Of course, he’s nowhere near as handsome as my Joel,” she looks at you reassuringly as she says it. Lest you pine after Randy the third . 

A silence stretches on until you say, “Well, this was delicious. I’d love the recipe…” You dab the corners of your mouth and put down your napkin. 

“Oh, it’s not a recipe, honey,” she boasts, “It’s somethin’ ya do from the heart.” After a moment, she adds, “But I can write down the ingredients! Now, how about some cherry pie?” 

She stands up, puts her apron back on, and you help her clear the table. “Go on Joel, we’ve got it,”  Mama tells him, and he goes to sit in the living room.

“Okay,” Mama whispers to herself as she plates the first slice, a generous one. “This one’s for him.” You take it to Joel and he sits up from the couch to accept it with a thank you, reading your face for signs of how things are going. You flash him a small, unrevealing smile.

“Gonna take a piss,” he mumbles, and his eyes ask if that’s okay. “Sure,” you say with a little curtsy, trying not to smirk as you turn and head back to the kitchen.

Mama’s about to plate the other slices of pie when she lifts a finger in the air and says, “Oh, let me write this down before I forget,” then retrieves a notecard and pencil from a drawer. She puts on a pair of glasses and smiles to herself as she jots down the ingredients. You dwell in the threshold of the living room.

She looks up like she’s trying to remember something, then looks down and keeps writing on the notecard. 

You begin to look at the pictures on the wall. Some are of Joel, and he’s straight-faced. Some are of cats. Charmingly, a blurry photo of a black cat has been deemed frame-worthy. It sits within a bigger rectangle, the shadow of where a different frame used to be. There are a few spots like this. There are a few relatively recent photos of Joel and his Mom. None with his father, as far as you can tell. None now, and none then. But when you look closer at the older ones, it’s clear some of them have been trimmed. 

“He hates having his picture made,” Mama startles you from less than a foot away. 

“You two seem really close,” you offer. “Just the two of you?” 

She raises her eyebrows in amusement and lowers her volume. “Oh, Joel made sure of that .” 

A chill in her voice hardens your nipples and dries your mouth. You search her face for more, but her eyes have wandered, and her face has fallen. “Been about thirty years, just the two of us—well, just me for a while…” You follow her eyes to the corner with the crochet rug, and she squeezes your arm.  

“Are you okay?” you ask. 

She eases her grip and manages a little smile. “Yes, dear.” She hands you the notecard.

Her handwriting is beautiful. Captivating. 

You stay there, eyes scanning the photo wall, while she finishes plating your pie and hers. 

One of the frames catches your eye. It’s the first one you’ve really zeroed in on, looking at the faces and not just the context. The picture is faded and yellowed.  

Joel is young and smiling, with a pin-up looking woman hanging all over him.

A rush of begruding jealousy begs the question, who is that?

And then, your stomach turns before the realization sets in. 

It’s a much younger Mama, with dark, loose curls befitting of a centerfold. All dolled up and glowing, with her arm around his middle. And god damn, her tits are swelling up out of her neckline. She looks…. Hot. Your lungs go hollow, then your chest expands with a deep breath. Something's stirring in your gut. Arousal? Attraction?  

Your eyes pan down to her Mary Jane heels, but the swell of her breasts, those bouncy curls… your eyes are pulled back up her body. The dress is cute, and proper. Innocent, even. But the way she wears it… Sweetheart neckline, puffed sleeves… You squint for a closer look, and your breath hitches.  Heat rises to your face, to the tips of your ears. Your heart races. You pull your eyes away, chest burning, and pretend you don't notice anything.  

Something soft brushes your calf and you gasp and jump as you look down to see a black cat thread between your legs. 

“Oh, it’s Daniel!” Mama says. “He must’ve come in behind you. Not allergic, are you? Here’s your pie, honey.” She sets down your plate on the coffee table.

“You good, baby?” Joel asks. 

-

Taking your place on the sofa next to Joel, you sit like a lady, one foot tucked behind the other ankle, minding your lack of panties. The dress is just long enough to cover your knees. 

The three of you finish dessert in silence aside from forks scraping good china and Daniel purring from that rug in the corner. Joel finishes first, and stretches his arm behind you on the sofa. When you finish, you sit back with him, knee brushing his. You will yourself to relax. You will yourself not to ogle his mother in trying to reconcile her fragile frame of today with those curves of yesteryear. 

She looks back and forth at the two of you sitting side by side and smiles. She puts down her plate, crosses her legs toward you, and clasps her hands. A smile rises through her pretty cheekbones as she looks directly at you. 

“Ya know, Joel was top of his class.” 

You raise your eyebrows. 

Joel takes his hand off the back of the sofa and leans forward, forearms on his knees, full belly filling out the plaid against his lap as he wrings his hands.  “Mama.” Joel’s tone is cautionary, but his face is more pleading. He shakes his head ever so slightly. 

Ignoring him, she smiles proudly at you.

You try not to sound as skeptical as you are when you ask, “Really?”

She nods. 

“Mama,” he whispers. 

“Mm-hmm,” she smiles. 

He sits up straight, wipes his hand down his whole face and sits back in defeat. His arm doesn't return behind you. 

She continues, “There were a couple other boys, went in ‘round the same time – took’em three tries to get their GED. Three tries, at least. Not my Joel. He got his on the first try,” she beams. “The warden shook his hand.” 

“Okay,” Joel mutters. 

The Warden. Your heart skips a beat and your face goes cold, but you pray it doesn't show. 

You turn and congratulate him, “That’s great, Joel.”

He doesn't meet your eyes. He’s looking at the carpet with a defeated scowl, jaw flexing, chest heaving, arms crossed limply over his stomach.  He tries to manage a smile of acknowledgement. You can see the effort, but humiliation prevails.

You feel for him and add, “Really, babe.” 

His face softens, but his posture doesn't change. After a moment, without looking up, he mumbles, “Long time ago.” 

“Yeah,” his mother nods. “He's always been a smart boy.” She starts talking about his favorite subjects, and how he could have gotten his bachelor's too, three times over, if the program was worth a damn, and state funding, and blah blah blah, riots, and understaffing, and shanks hidden in law library books, and a few bad apples spoil it for everyone…

Your eyes are on him, tuning her out, best you can, despite your curiosity. You rest your hand on his knee, and he relaxes a little. And then, once your face turns toward his mom again, Joel looks at your face, assessing the damage. 

You want to hear it all– how long he was locked up, how he ended up in juvie. You're afraid you already know that part. 

Daniel purrs loudly from the crochet rug, and you will yourself not to look in that direction. 

Joel's Mom looks at Daniel and gets quiet as her eyes wander up that wall that must've been painted over, God how many times in the past thirty years? She idly caresses her ring finger. 

You squeeze Joel's knee, slide your hand up his jeans a couple inches, and squeeze again. You tap your thumb, and his hand joins yours.

“We oughta get goin’, Ma,” he announces. 

“Oh,” she frowns, slumping in defeat. 

“I'm workin’ tonight, and she's gotta work early.” 

“Okay,” she whispers to herself, stands up, and smooths her dress. 

—---

“It's nice to know there's a good woman looking after my son,” she says as she bids you goodbye with another hug. 

Your heart swells at the praise, you can't help it. Her apparent sincerity weakens your eyes, makes you shake away your own memories and steel yourself as she says goodbye to Joel. 

“Chin up, baby.” She holds Joel's face, makes him look at her. “Give your mama some sugar.” She gives him a smack on the lips. He doesn't kiss back, but he does accept her hug. 

He pulls up his jeans on the way to the car. Almost forgets to open the door for you. 

He doesn't look at you, even when he buckles you in, which you would have done yourself if you hadn’t froze.

He swallows more thickly. His posture is less proud.

For the first few minutes of the drive, you ride in silence. Then you ask, “Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn't I be?” He grumbles. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, tummy tickling with a pang of sympathy for the man. 

“No,” he answers flatly with no hesitation. 

“You don't have to,” you reassure him. 

“I know I don't have to,” He snaps. “God, it's all anybody ever wants to talk about.” 

You watch him scowl at the road, clenching his strong jaw.  His gaze is so dark. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. As if noticing this himself, he stretches one hand out, spreading his fingers before assuming a more relaxed grip.

You wonder… was he born a killer? 

He's got this tough, violent shell about him, and now you know there's something else under there. Is he sorry he brought you to dinner, you wonder? You don't want him to be. 

“Well, it was nice meeting your mom,” you remark. “Meatloaf was fantastic…. The pie, too.” You cradle the Tupperware stacked in your lap. “You wanna hang out for awhile?” you ask. 

“Gotta work,” he answers flatly and swallows with his eyes still on the road. 

“Well, that's too bad.” It really is. 'Cause you're not any less horny than he got you in your bathroom two hours ago. Wetter, if anything, you realize, and warmth blooms in your cheeks. Now the sun is going down. You reach back and put the Tupperware on the back seat, then shamelessly turn toward him. You lean your temple against the headrest and watch him drive. 

He’s hard-working. Complicated. Private. And his mom’s right, he is successful, all things considered.

You wonder where his dad is buried. Whether he was handsome, like Joel. Maybe . But with or without him, Joel got those looks from Mama. 

Joel glances over and shoots you a dark look. A warning.

“You don't gotta play nice,” he says.

“I'm not playing anything,” you protest. 

He lets out a dismissive chuckle.

“Pull over,” you tell him. 

“For what?” He asks.

His meaty thighs are spread, swelling in those tight jeans. He follows your eyes and squints at you, then slides his hand under his belly and adjusts his belt, annoyed. 

“Just pull over Joel,” you repeat.

“Ain't in the mood for your games, sweetheart,” he says.

You open the glove box, then close it with the gun in your hand.  You point it at him. “Pull over, god damn it,�� you tell him.

He squints and looks at you up and down before dismissing you with a silent, condescending laugh. 

Keeping the gun trained on him, your free hand unbuckles your seatbelt, then slides between your legs. You pull the skirt of the dress all the way up to expose your cunt.

“You serious?” He asks. 

“Serious as a heart attack,” you confirm. 

And that's not what killed his dad, you think. 

It must've been messy. 

He must've deserved it, by the looks of Joel's back. The way the moonlight skidded over his scars, that night in your bedroom.

Joel shakes his head, keeps driving, and you lift the gun to his temple. “Pull over right now,” you repeat, quieter.

“Jesus, FUCK,” he relents, neck vein bulging as he veers toward the shoulder. 

It's close to dusk now, on a suburban road, and you're half way out of the seat before the car's in park.

Stretching your leg over the center console, you help yourself into his lap, straddling him, still holding the gun. With your free hand, you begin to unbutton his shirt. 

For a moment, all he does is stare at you and breathe heavier. “You're fuckin’ with me,” he tells himself out loud, not wanting to fall for a joke. He has his elbows back and out of the way, one arm on the door, one on the center console, but he’s itching to have you. You can see it in the way his biceps twitch. His stomach rises and falls with heavier breaths under his white tee. 

“I’m not,” you assure him. 

He lets you pick up his hand, and you guide it between your legs so he can feel how wet you are. 

His face darkens, and his hand reflexively grabs your cunt. 

“Somethin’ wrong with you?” he asks.

“That’d make two of us,” you answer.

You glance at the gun to make sure the safety's still on, then point the barrel at his chest and reach down to grab the massive bulge in his jeans. The largest you could imagine, for a cock that’s not quite hard. And he chubs up quick under the lustful pressure of your palm. 

“You're into this shit,” he says. “ Like some kinda kink.” 

Ya think?, you manage not to say out loud.

But you get the subtext: He’s a real person... With a real big cock that swells harder in your palm as you massage him slow with your breasts heaving. He cups your bare ass cheeks. You slide your hand up the front of his jeans, and his hips lift under you, chasing your palm. The heel of your palm presses into his gut as you unbuckle his belt. You rest your wrist on the seat, gun pointed toward the back of the car as your hand continues its work between your bodies.

With his belt buckle out of the way, you grope at his cock through the denim again, then unzip his jeans and rest your hand on the curve of his belly, splaying your fingers out before sliding your hand down into his jeans. As your hand engulfs the mushroom shape of his cockhead, then his swollen shaft, you moan at the girth. “Yeah,” you breathe, “You gonna fuck me in your mother’s dress?” You end the question with a firm grab of his package, and he grunts, nearly breathless, then sighs as you palm his cock hungrily through the cotton of his boxer briefs. 

“Looks really fuckin’ good on you,” he answers with a nod.

Blood’s still rushing to his cock, responding to its need to stiffen up and plug whatever gaping hole appears in front of it. 

“Looks good on her too,” you note. 

“Fuck,” he breathes under your slow but aggressive massage. His eyes pour over your chest and he says, “Looks better on you.” If he’s not lying–and it feels like he’s not–-it’s quite a fucking compliment. His shaft plumps with as much as blood as it can hold, stiff as a rod, fat and juicy, hard as hell, spilling precum in his boxers. 

“Ohh, fuck,” he moans. His hips lift and his abs tense and his belly swells against your forearm. 

You slide your hand up again, and under his waistband. You brace your wrist on his shoulder, pointing the gun toward his neck as your hand slides into his warm boxer briefs to feel the smooth skin of his aching manhood. 

“You wanna put that down?” he asks. 

“No,” You reply, unable to connect your thumb fingers around his girth. 

“Man, when ya need it ya need it, huh?,” he murmurs, eyelids heavy. “Need this cock real bad, don’t ya? ” 

“Yeah,” you answer.

“Need to pack that droolin’ gash,” he says. “ Pack it full. ” 

“Yeah,” you nod and raise yourself a few inches. You get his tip at your entrance, then slide it through your dripping pussy.

"Oh, fuck,” he moans, “God damn sex kitten.. . FUCK, youre hot” 

He breathes audibly, watching you with forced patience as you notch his broad tip at your hole. You start to sink down on him with some difficulty, face scrunching, biting your lip in frustration, eyes watering with need. 

“What's the matter, sweetheart? Forget how to take a cock all the sudden?” 

You lift yourself up and sink down a little more, swallowing the tip. 

“Oh fuck,” he moans. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls you down with an upward thrust, spearing you on his monster girth.

“Yeah…oh, fuck,” he breathes, not quite bottomed out. “Ugghh,” he groans, pulling you down more with an upward thrust to the hilt, fully seated in you at last. 

“God, you're filthy.” He wets his bottom lip, admiring what a mess you’ve become in his lap. “Hot little slut like you…. Oh, you're trouble,” he says. 

You begin to lift yourself, letting most of his meat out of you, tip dragging thick and tight through your walls, your slick beading under the crown and sliding down his shaft. Then you sink back down, splitting yourself open on his girth with a sigh. 

The sky has erupted into shades of pink and purple as it begins to sink past the horizon. 

Electricity runs through your blood. Your skin hums. His neck glistens with goosebumps and the hues of his shirt look brighter in the almost-dark. 

He grabs your hips as you ride him, then moves his big hands to your waist. Each time you slide up his cock, it’s easier to sink back down. Your body’s hungry for more each time. You can feel it pulsing wider around him, welcoming his girth, hungry for more. 

“Yeah,” he encourages you as you find a rhythm. “Like that.”  

You seize one of his wrists to move his hand to your neck.

“You're a real freak, baby,” he taunts you, brushing his thumb against the delicate skin of your neck before carefully positioning it and raising his eyebrows at you. He closes his eyes as you sink down on him again and his girth slides easily through your soft walls. When he opens his eyes, his massive hand gives your neck a little squeeze, and you moan in appreciation. 

“Guess it takes a freak to fuck a guy like you,” you spit back.  

He scowls, and his nose twitches. 

You go on, “Mighta picked the only freak in town who’d fuck you by choice,” you tell him. “Lucky call,” you say. “Lucky you have such a fat fucking cock,” you taunt him and study his face, hopeful for a sign that he could snap.  “What else do you have?” You ask, and it feels almost too cruel. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot to have… fuck,” you breathe. “Mmm,” fully stuffed by his girth. 

“Quit runnin’ your damn mouth,”  he snaps and grabs the gun by both ends at once, smoothly disarming you with an effortless twist of his hands. He places the barrel against the hollow of your neck and asks, Is “That what ya want, ya dumb slut? Tryna get yourself killed?” 

You freeze, half-way on his cock, getting lost in his eyes. 

“Well God damn, if you're gonna ride it, ride it. I'm gonna lose my goddamn patience” he warns. 

When you don’t sink down fast enough, he gets rougher, putting you in a bruising grip, one arm wrapped around you, tightening like an anaconda. 

He fucks up into you from the bottom, both arms behind you, with the gun held vaguely to your neck.

“Yeah,” you moan. 

He growls, pushes his back against the seat, and his stomach pushes against your front, pushes and rubs as he fucks you harder, rocking the car. 

The windows fog up.

He unzips the back of the dress and tears it down to reveal your breasts. 

He watches them move as you’re bounced on his thick manhood. He snarls and grunts like an animal possessing his prey. 

“I see you,” you whisper, intoxicated by the rhythmic stroke of him up in your guts.

“Fuck you,” he rasps.

“Fuck me ,” you retort,  “Fuck me,” you repeat, “Fuck me, killer,” your cunt spasms with the word. 

“Knew what I was, don’t act fuckin’ surprised.” 

"Fuck," you moan, swallowing up his cock. “I'm -mmm- m’not,” you say. “I'm turned on.”

“You’re sick,” he says, burying his cock in you fully, once again.  

Your nipples harden, you moan, and he looks at you skeptically, even as he feels your walls twitch around his absurd girth. 

“Know that pussy's hungry for something bigger,” he says. 

“Like what?”  you ask and feel the gun leave your neck. 

“Get up.” He checks the safety.

When you rise up, he holds the gun near his dick, making the barrel of it look like a twig. 

“Best I got here,” he says with your gummy walls clinging to his shaft as you let out all but the tip. 

“Think she can take it?” he asks. “Shit, we know she can.” 

You lift all the way up onto your knees, letting his cock fall out. It bounces, bringing a string of slick with it, and stands stiff at attention. 

He works three fingers into you with ease. 

“Gimme your hand,” you ask.

“Hand's fuckin’ busy,” he says, referring to the one holding the gun. 

“No, gimme your whole hand,” you demand greedily, and grab his wrist with his fingers still buried in your cunt. 

“Attagirl,” he says, then works a fourth finger into you.  “Best I can do here, sweetheart,” he winces as he fucks you with four clustered fingers. 

“Fuck this,” he decides, unable to stand his throbbing cock growing ever colder outside your cunt. 

He positions you over his dick and the gun, uses his fingers to spread your pussy around both, then pulls you down. 

“Uh–ughh,” your mouth is agape as you sink down the shaft and barrel, taking them both. 

You’re a quivering mess. 

He holds the handle steady and says, “Good girl.”

You don't go all the way down. The cool barrel slides against one side of your walls. 

“God damn, this hungry pussy,” he pants, cock stiff against the gun.  “God damn, i know she can take more,” he says, frustrated without much more to give you.  

“How do you know?” you ask 

“Cause I've seen ya gapin’ wide open, sweetheart.” 

You moan at his words, pussy quivering around his cock and gun. 

“Wide fuckin’ open,” he repeats. “Ya take my fist… take two dicks…fuck ,” he twitches inside you. “ Took my goddamn wrench…. greedy fuckin’ cunt,” he goes on. 

Then you're seized by a swell in your lower belly…. The pressure that’s been simmering quickly boils over, and you whimper as you come on his cock and the gun. 

“Yeah,” he pants as your walls flutter and your thighs quiver. 

He lifts you up with one arm, and takes out the gun, putting it aside. Then he slams you all the way down on his cock. “Oh god, yeah,” he pants, “Freak nasty whore ” 

You moan and let it ride, clenching around his cock, your walls hugging it tighter each time, with the girth of the gun no longer holding you open.  

Your climax wanes and your legs are weak. “Oh fuck,” he pants, “Gonna fill this dirty snatch,”  He sweats and grunts. “Gonna stuff her with my load,” he warns, “Bout to fill this gash right up .”  

“Fuck,” he breathes heavier and grunts with each thrust up into you, then slams you down, and with an upward jolt of his hips begins to drain his massive balls. “Fuck,” he sighs as he comes inside. “Fuck, you're crazy,” he says with another rope, warm and sticky, hitting your womb. 

“Tryna get knocked up by some psycho killer ya picked up on the side of the road,” he says. “ Fuck, you goddamn freak .” 

Still milking his cock, something possesses you to cradle his face as he slows down. Another burst of warmth in your core, as your face approaches his. He starts to turn his cheek, but your hands become forceful. “C’mere, asshole,”  you demand, grinding into him with his cock pulsing deep inside again. His neck begins to relax, and he sighs with his eyes closed. You hold his face steady and bring your face to his. When your lips meet his are limp and open. 

Another warm spurt into your womb, and when you moan against his mouth, he moans back. His lips soften, then cradle yours. Your tongue slips into your mouth, and his pushes into yours. He grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his face as he kisses you, releasing a final burst of hot seed. “Mm,” he grunts into your mouth, hands holding each other’s faces. Glued together, consuming each other in the dark. The passion simmers to something gentler as your loins twitch with aftershocks, becoming over-sensitive. 

You break away to breathe, gasping for humid air in the fogged-up car. 

He pants, looks up at the ceiling. His neck vein pulses. His skin is clammy looking, dewy with cold sweat, 

“Fuck,” sighs, his chest heaving, “Still got your goddamn tits out.” He admires them, then feeds himself one. He tongues your nipple, and when your cunt squeezes him, he winces, letting it out of his mouth. 

A tractor trailer whizzes by, shaking the whole car. 

“Alright,” he says, and nudges you off his lap. “Now pull yourself together.” 

He takes the gun, wet with your juices, puts it on the dashboard near him. He looks over at you skeptically when you've climbed back over the center console into your seat.

“You better stuff that dress between your legs,” he warns. “Don’t want ya leakin’ all over the goddamn place.”

-

-

-

THANK YOU FOR READING.

Believe it or not, I cut two scenes from this lol so I might put them in a little bonus visit between Joel and his mom soon.

Look, this took me a year and I feel like I've finally done my mental vision justice lol. So, please interact 🧎‍♀️🥺🖤

anon is fine if you're shy!

[johnnycadesmuse]

࿔ * : ･ after the fact

— dallas winston x reader

warnings: suggestive, language

dally groans as he lays on top of you, the both of you breathless, your legs shaking. you were still in a euphoric daze from your climax, your vision somewhat blurry as you attempted to regain your composure.

"jesus baby" Dally said breathlessly into your neck before peppering kisses all over your skin. "always do so well" he mumbled before turning your face toward him and kissing you passionately.

he stroked circles on your skin, laying somewhat on top of you for a few moments more before kneeling on the bed, looking down at you in awe.

you looked so beautiful. your hair was sprawled out on the pillows, his cum on your thighs, stomach, and chest from previous rounds. Dally could feel himself getting hard again, but knew you were too fucked out and exhausted to possibly even think about going again— besides, he was just as tired— 3 times was enough.

"you're so gorgeous baby" he told you, his voice soft and quiet, as if he were lulling you to sleep. you felt yourself begin to drift off but quickly caught yourself as you didn't want to fall asleep just yet, not until you were in Dally's arms, his muscles holding you tightly as if his life depended on it. "i'm gonna clean you up, okay?" you didn't say anything, simply nodding with a slight smile.

you kept your eyes closed, hearing the floorboards creek as Dally exited to go to the bathroom. he reappeared a few moments later with a damp, warm washcloth. you felt a dip in the bed followed by a pair of somewhat wet hands prying your legs open. your eyes shot open, having been caught off guard by this gesture. "relax doll, it ain't nothing I haven't seen before. besides, I was just inside you. I think we're past the point of hiding ourselves, yeah?"

you giggled at the comment, blushing and hiding your face which Dally found adorable. he began slowly and gently dragging the cloth on your thighs, then stomach, then breasts, slowly collecting his liquids off of you.

"I can't believe you're mine. you're so gorgeous" he chuckled against the skin of your cheek after tossing the dirty rag aside.

Dally being affectionate during aftercare wasn't out of the ordinary, at least, not at this point in your guys relationship. at first, he would hand you the cloth to clean yourself, then once you were done he would wrap an arm around you and pull you into his side— now, he worshipped you, and you weren't complaining one bit.

[blondeaxolotl]

Finally dropping a ref sheet for my yuusona, say hi to Yuu/Ebi

undercut if you want to hear me yap about her a bit

Yuu, or Ebi is a giant monster shrimp (non-magic user). Where she came from or what her homeland is currently unknown. But it's safe to assume she comes from a place populated by mostly sea monsters like her.

Despite being a monster (maybe similar to Grim?), Ebi seems to have a more calming and sensible personality when compared to Grim, only reacting strongly when something seriously bad is going to happen (ex: someone almost fucking dying) or when she's over-exaggerating to just get a reaction out of someone. Surprisingly, when she arrived to NRC, she had a more irritated reaction knowing full well she was somewhere she didn't belong, and complained under her breath about "missing work and getting family worried for nothing". In other words she seemed to have known she wasn't in any true danger when she arrived, thankfully. Ebi also appears to be naturally caring for others, immediately taking in with living with Grim at Ramschackle (and eventually becoming his caretaker basically), and helping Ace and Deuce out with whatever issues they're having without hesitation (issues being either preventing them from almost being expelled or just help with simple homework). This soon enough became an on-going thing with majority of the students, and according to Ebi it's because;

"I grew up in a large family and have always taken care of my younger siblings. It's in my duty to help and take care of those who need a hand to come pick them up from the ground, even if they didn't ask for it."

It didn't help that Ebi was already older than most students there, being closer to Leona's age, she started to view and treat a lot of students as if they were her younger siblings. And like it was meant to be, this quickly made her earned the title of "Big Sis Ebi". Making it known that she was someone who the students could trust and come to for both help and comfort. This meant there were a lot of visits at Ramschackle, (especially from the ones who overblotted GULPS) but fortunately, this just made Ebi feel more at home as it reminded her of her actual siblings back at her homeland, so she doesn't mind these visits (Grim on the other hand not so much).

Also yes, just like any older sibling, this does mean Ebi started to mess and tease the ones she viewed as younger siblings a lot. It ain't a true sibling bond without at least a wee bit of sibling rivalry 👌 (Rip Ace he's the most common victim to this).

ANYWAY, okay enough yapping, when I first created Ebi she was just a silly gag I made when I first got into twst.

But when I actually started to put effort into her I at first didn't know what to do since most yuusonas I know of were shipped with other characters. But I didn't want Ebi to have anything romantic with any character, I decided what better way than to basically make her the older sister figure everyone comes to when they need help? I thought it's both funny that characters are looking for comfort from a literal giant fucking shrimp, but also twst characters genuine just seem to lack a lot of comfort because Jesus fucking Christ all of you need therapy and a hug, no matter if it's by a shrimp or not 😭.

Okay yeah, that's it for Ebi if anyone has any questions about her or her dynamics with other characters, feel free to send an ask in my inbox 🦐.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)

Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore

[Part 1] | [Part 3] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.

You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 

"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."

"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 

"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 

"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."

You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.

"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."

You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 

Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 

Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 

Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 

"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."

With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 

"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 

He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 

"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 

His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.

"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 

"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 

A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.

"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 

"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 

"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."

"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 

He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 

"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."

"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 

Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 

"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."

"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."

Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 

You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.

"But-...I thought..."

"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"

"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 

Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.

"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"

The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"

Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.

"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.

There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 

"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"

"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 

Kazuya rips the box from you.

"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"

Both you and Daitou nod obediently.

On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.

Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 

[ccwpidsblog]

drunk in love — k.nanami

content warning: prey/predator typa thing, dubcon they r both drunk, spit, spanking, creampie, cervix kissing, rough sex, slight hard dom!kento, heavily unedited because im lazy

a/n: don't say i ain't never gave y'all nothing

nanami doesn't get drunk often.

he could hold a whole bottle of the finest liquor and not bat an eye but he thinks he's just drunk off you and the cheap shit you indulge in.

his eyes are hazy—low and stuck on you. one hand tugs at glasses as the other reaches to grab you but you've decided to be a tease tonight. giggling as you slip right out his hands darting off down the spacious hallway of his flat. he growls mean and grizzly as he follows your giggles, the heels of his dress shoes tapping against the freshly waxed floors. he makes a sharp left and sees that his office door is cracked open. nanami never leaves his office door open. he walks inside cooly, jaw working tight. "princess i know you're in here."

he looks around the forewalls of the office he spent almost majority of his time in. "if you come out now darling— you won't be in as much trouble. ."

you watched him walk in front of your hiding spot then disappear. it goes eerily quiet again and you think he'd left the room by now but then there's a tug at your ankles and suddenly you're being dragged from under his desk. you squeal and put up little fight when he works to turn you onto your stomach, mounting you like a horny dog. he's tugging up your night gown, ripping your panties to the seams then spreading the fat of your ass cheeks wide enough that you wince.

he spits and the warm glob slides from your puckering hole to your wet one and he groans again. you hear the jingling of his belt as he tugs his throbbing cock from his dress pants shoving them down his pale toned thighs. manhandling you into an arch position while he drags his pink and slicked shaft between your wet thighs. he leans down to whisper in your ear. "told you to come out didn't I?"

drunk!nanami who fucks you full right in the middle of his office floor. your knees burn from rubbing against the carpet as he forces you to keep your perfectly arched position. every time you threaten to fall he smacks your ass with his big ringed hands chucking you back in position.

tispy!nanami who's heavy balls smack against your clit as he furiously thurst into the sloppy wet mess that is your pussy.

drunk!nanami who's not drunk off your knockoff booze anymore, no not anymore. now the blonde man is intoxicated from your pussy gripping him with every inch of his life

drunk!nanami who cums with animalistic snarls cock knocking on the doors of the deepest part of your insides. cumming in thick endless robes filling your cervix to its fullest. cum dripping onto the rug and he'd definitely complain tomorrow but refuse to clean it. . .

drunk!nanami who collapses on top of you ignoring your protest of how heavy he was. he does eventually roll off you and falls straight to sleep. pants at his ankles, wet softening cock out for you and the dust mites to gawk at. you tried to get him to bed and even get him a least a little bit decent but he wasn't budging so you drape a blanket over him and slept in the comforter he made just for you to sit in while he worked

nanami who flushes in the morning apologizing for acting so out of character. makes it up by cooking an orgasm worthy breakfast. vows to never drink your cheap ass liquor again.

© CCWPIDS'BLOG2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly

[boypied]

EWB!Rafe Cameron

ewb = enemies with benefits.

You hated his guts. He never cared for you one bit, he would throw you to the curb when if he had the chance. Yet somehow you ended up in his bed pretty much every night, Rafe didn't want to admit it but he hated you slightly less than before you started sleeping together, now your probably wondering how all of this even started well let me get into it.

You were both at the same house party that one of your mutual friends were hosting (I know, what a shock you share a friend) Everyone knew how much you both hated eachother so they did everything in their power to keep you away from him and vice versa. Ultimately, you both ran into each other while heading to the toilet. He walked in at the same time you did (two doors, it's an ensuite), and you started screaming at him to get out "I WAS IN HERE FIRST!" you yelled out.

He didn't listen, but what a surprise cause he never listened. You were both massively drunk, and you both just stopped and stared at each other, wobbling side to side slightly, and you both just started making out. You hopped yourself up with the help of Rafe and he practically ripped your jeans and underwear off and pulled down his jeans till they reached his knees and Rafe spat down on his cock and just started fucking you while you were both in your drunken state.

Surprisingly, even in his drunken state, he still managed to hit all the right spots. In the moment where he is fucking destroying your hole while making out with your neck you didn't really hate him, you still felt a strong sense of annoyance but not hate. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he continue to just fuck you rougher and rougher his tongue sliding up your neck past your chin and into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and his tongue enters your mouth, but you ain't complaining.

He at least had the good idea to pull out. He shot his load all over your thigh as you also shot your load at the same time feeling his cock slip out of your hole, after a moment of Rafe resting his face against your neck after finishing he clears his throat and silently cleans both of you up before zipping up his jeans and leaving the bathroom. Ever since that drunken night Rafe did try to avoid you till he couldn't anymore and he showed up at your door late at night, once you opened the door he barged in and started kissing you all over and then you were getting fucked on your stairs.

This happened pretty much every day, sometimes twice a day. You still hated eachothers guts but he loved your hole and you loved his cock, but you both won't ever admit that maybe you don't hate eachother...you just "dislike" eachother.

[euphoria-looney]

HIHIHIHIHI!

Sorry for this obscene request but wouldn't it be cool to do a oneshot of batfam x neglected!vigilante! reader, where she's like spiderman but instead of being bitten by a radioactive spider, she comes in contact with a radioactive flower that was an unfinished project from a scientist while on a school's field trip and so now she has like powers/abilities like Isabella from Encanto and uh uh she's extremely flexible since she's a ballerina as well and she makes her own suits/clothing in secret and her suit includes flower-like designs and Pointe shoes?

SORRY FOR REQUESTING OUT OF NOWHERE AND THAT THIS IS LONG AND TO SPECIFIC (u don't have to do it if u want to, just wanted to see something different, and if u do decide to do this you can change what you'd like to change)

SUPER RICH KIDS

Yan(?) Batfam x Reader

Oneshot(?)

"The maids come around too much. Parents ain't around enough. To many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar. Too many white lies and white lines. Super rich kids with nothin' but loose ends. Super rich kids with nothin' but fake friends." 'Super Rich Kids' by Frank Ocean ft. Earl Sweatshirt

Divider Creds: @cafekitsune

What came first, the chicken or the egg? Well, it doesn’t matter as the plants came before; without them we wouldn’t even live like we are currently.

"-And I expect nothing but the best from you guys when we arrive. If anyone has a problem with that, please let me know in my office. The student council, class representatives, and chaperones will be here, so don't fully rely on teachers. And no, we have designated restrooms and gas station stops, so don't request them." Mrs. Simeon, my homeroom teacher, instructed.

"I'll call roll now and then head off to my bus." As she started checking off names, my group got comfortable at our spot.

It was a table seat with Penelope sitting across from me, Astro diagonal to me, and Aldira's next to me. We were the student council. I, the President, Aldira the Vice-President, Penny the Secretary, and Astro the Treasurer.

"You know, this is more like a train than a bus," Penny commented.

"We are one of the richest schools, and funded by millionaires," Astro replied.

"I'm just annoyed we have to go with the underclassmen." Aldira pulled some snacks out of his bag and put them on the table, as did the rest of us.

"Who cares? A trip is a trip, and who are we to complain? It just means no schoolwork for a week." I shrugged and grabbed some gummies off the table.

Now, this may be a bit crazy but I know you're a bit nosey but I know you are quite curious about who I am, and what I contribute to this declining society, I am [name] Wayne on document but [name] [l.name] in which in the future I shall presume to change.

I am 18 years old, and based on the other stories you've read, some think that I am great at everything. I met Penelope in 8th grade at a debate competition, and she’s pursuing an art major.

I met Astro in 6th grade, but more towards the end of the year. I was trying out archery and found out he was the club leader and currently playing the violin.

Finally, Aldira met him in elementary school or something. Currently, he’s in volleyball and karate. He also enjoys playing games, and coding when he’s really bored.

Besides that point, we are heading off to a lab that specializes in keeping special and rare plants, chemicals, and things that I don’t think high schoolers should be seeing, but seeing as Bruce Wayne got convinced by his two princesses, we had no other choice but to go.

The worst part was that we were soon going to hop off the bus and onto a plane since the place was closed off for the obvious reason, if you couldn’t already tell.

This would be a long journey, but at least nothing bad should happen while we go there.

I take back what I’ve said. A scarecrow attack is happening, and gas is enveloping us. 

“I just wanted to take a nap.” Penny kicked a rock on the ground as some people around us were going hysterical.

“Yes, don’t we all.” Aldira rolled his eyes and strode over to 4 guys, waving him over. I  characterize them as his love interest, but he begs to differ. 

I felt a head lean on my shoulder.

Now we would also be the hysterical ones on the ground if I didn’t pack ‘supervillain repellent bags.’ Of course, the question of the incident would be, why do you need to bring those?

And you wouldn’t be the first to ask.

“Why in the world would we need that big bag full of ‘supervillain repellents? It’s a field trip, not a place to get obliterated.” Penny side-eyed me.

“Wherever Serena and Melody go, trouble follows, and you’d expect supervillains not to do anything to high schoolers when we are heading to one of the closed-off and dangerous places in the world? Trust me, we’ll need these things.” I threw them each a big bag of items.

And would you look at that? The gas mask did come in handy. So did the suits, Aldira's company had their plane but he had refused their offer though I wouldn’t be surprised if he went with them now, and some lucky kids were saved by most of the bats, with Damian still in his civilian attire he just took Melody to safety and Serena she went off to use her glitter magic to get rid of some of the gas.

Her superhero name? ‘GlitterBomb’

Anyway, I’m not surprised about the others being here with 2 of their most precious girls on the trip. I highly doubt that not all of them volunteered to go, but Bruce stayed behind with Barbara and Dick as they watched over the city.

However, after this event, I wouldn’t doubt them to also attend; just a matter of who loses rock paper scissors.

“Baby bird!” I heard a loud voice approaching at high speed, Dick with his arms spread like an eagle and kept that super speed up… before zooming right past me and right where Melody was.

“I knew this would happen, We shouldn’t have let their grade on this trip.” He was rubbing his cheeks against hers, having her in a tight bear hug. She suddenly got out of his grip, seeing as all the gas had been cleared, and went straight towards me. Slamming herself on me, making Astro groan and blink in a daze before going on his iPad to check the schedule that had been altered.

“I was so worried about you! I was hoping that the gas hadn’t reached you! Also, when did you manage to bring all of this?” She was shoved aside as Serena came up to me.

“Seriously, [name], what if we also get that gas injected into us? You should’ve brought more!” Wow, she took Melody's words and changed the whole direction of the conversation.

I was going to reply, but Astro took the lead.

“We might miss the plane if we keep talking. We should leave.” I took his hand and left with him before any of them could chase after me, more like Melody and Serena. The rest were more worried about them and escorted them to our private plane, originally Melody wanted me to go with them on it and Delphie agreed but I decided to just go on the school plane with my friends, besides all the seats are first class anyway it’s not like I’m flying in the sky with a booty ahh seat.

“I’m so annoyed I was going to the food court, but everything was closed. Now I’m just stuck with snacks.” Penny collapsed onto her seat, I was starting to wonder where she was; after all, she grumbled and marched off into a different place away from us while I was watching the scene unfold.

Astro passed out in his chair, and Aldira…

Oh yeah, he was whisked away earlier.

“Made it just in time.” Aldira was heavily breathing and tired. 

Finally, the trip started, and we set off for the facility. The idea was like Jurassic Park, just replacing the dinosaurs with plants and items.

“This right here is where our rarest plant resides, unfortunately, we haven’t figured out how to store and deal with it, so until then, it shall be left to itself.” The scientist then led us away, and before I knew it, the sun had already gone down.

Tomorrow would be the last day then we were going to go back to Gotham. However, that flower just kept playing in my head, so I got up when I assumed no one was awake and tiptoed out of my bed before I saw Penny in the kitchen drinking water and she noticed me.

“[name], what are you doing still awake?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Just about to take a stroll around here, you know, get some fresh air…” She tilted her head at me.

“At midnight, in a dangerous science lab?” Her suspicion wasn’t disguised as her tone gave it away.

“I’ll go with her.” Aldira perked up, he had a knack for staying up.

“I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t go, just wondering why.” Penny threw a wrapper at him.

“What are you all doing up so late?” A groggy voice made us all jump; that came from Astro. Unlike us, he made sure to always sleep early and wake up early.

“Exploring… want to come?” I made up a decision, and soon we all made it out of our rooms and into the lab, and I stopped at the specific place we were earlier.

Astro looked huger than he usually was, swaddled in his blanket, Penny holding the blanket so it wouldn’t hit the floor and make it dirty, and Aldira was taking a picture of this. 

I soon approached the door before Aldira grabbed my wrist.

“What are you doing?!” He whispered.

I just opened the door, and like teenagers, we entered the room, and a glowing flower was in the center.

“Woah, what is that?” We all went to look closer at it, and then the flower went out.

“We should go unless we want to be caught.” Astro chided, and we just nodded.

I felt weird since this morning, but pushing it off, I finished packing and stretched a little bit before I heard a scream (scrumped 😍) in Penny’s room, coming from her, which was out of the ordinary.

So, the collective footsteps ran to her room.

“What happened?!”

“Who died?!”

“PP?!”

We stumble into a scene of her room wrapped up in… thread? She was in it too.

“I just wanted to draw.” She made the motions and rambled, but the funniest part of this was that she started explaining this in a monotone, as if it was just another Tuesday lesson, and we all missed the lecture.

“Can you… retract it?” I titled my head, and slowly it all dispersed.

“Well, Penelope was the closest one to that flower yesterday,” Astro concluded, doing that usual crossed hand with one holding his chin.

“We’ll figure this out later. For now, we should pack up and head to the airport before we get left behind.” We agreed and went to pack up.

“...I can’t believe it withered…” 

“Shame, but we were trying to find a way of disposing it- but the effects are left unknown-...”

I heard bits and pieces of the conversation while I was passing through and all of us threw each other a glance.

By the time we were back in Gotham, I was exhausted, but then a phone call buzzed my phone.

[Large Gay Fantasy Facetime (Join)]

Astro had initiated the call, which he never did.

“Whassup~?” Aldira’s had a facemask on, smoothing it out with his jade roller.

“I… was trying to play Vivaldi's Four Seasons Winter, and now, there’s a whole winter in my room.” He sounded more agitated than shocked; he was an academic victim for a reason. He panned his camera over his entire room, and there were icicles surrounding him, snow on the floor, and water that seemed to be dripping down the walls.

Penny immediately cackled, running up to her camera for what I presumed was to get a closer view of Astro's distress. Before she slipped on her debate papers that she, I presumed, had been working all night on.

Now it was Aldira’s turn to laugh at the both of them gripping onto the phone, but he started glitching out before his Facetime shut off, and in the next few minutes he rejoin his hair all frizzled up and him with this ‘I just got a massive wave of constipation’ hit the screen.

“So, all my electronics turned off, and for a hot minute, I got hacked. I hacked myself. Guess who got powers?”

“Great, [name] you want to tell us something next?”

I burst out laughing.

“Naur, seems I was the only one not affected. Lucky me.”

“You’re telling me the one who dragged us into that room was the only one not affected? I call BS.” By now, we were just up at night chatting.

“You know what this means, right?” I questioned them.

“My career is over, and that means I should call it and jump from a cliff, yes.” Astro had collapsed onto his now normal floors.

“What he said.” Aldira was picking his nose.

“No, with practice, you guys could be the next top superheroes or mysterious into-the-night vigilantes. Oh! Or-”

“[name], we already have vigilantes, and besides, if we were busy with that, how’d we hang out with you?”

“I’m a nepo baby. I’d rather you guys save those in need than worry about me.”

“And our grades.”

“Make a schedule. Of course, I was just suggesting; don’t let me force you guys into this. Imagine the people who’d just be ungrateful and berate y’all. Overall, these powers are like another limb to you guys; who knows, it might be fun having them.” They thought about it, but as the night went on, we all agreed that we had to sleep; school was tomorrow.

“Besides, sometimes, a family is two grown men dressed in bright spandex and their orphan acrobat they picked off the street.”

“[name] what the fuck?”

“What does that have to do with this conversation?”

“This isn’t off of those old Superman, Batman, and 1st Robin comics, is it?”

“Woah, did my father just call for me to go to bed?” I looked around.

“Your father doesn’t acknowledge you, and neither does your family,” Astro deadpanned at me.

“Hang yourself.”

3 MONTHS LATER

Walking through the halls, my heels clicked against the floor as I entered the library and climbed some stairs before reaching the usual table we’ve had for year, two look dead, and the other locked into his studies.

“E-ehem, um, is this seat taken?” A guy fiddled from where his friends were standing, they watched with curious eyes.

“If there is a bag on the seat, does it mean it’s open?” Penny snarky replied cut him off.

“W-well, I just-”

“We’re just wondering since you guys get such high scores on your test-” A girl behind him approached and wrapped their arms together.

“Hey, did you not hear what she just said? Does it look like we have more room for dead weight?” Astro scoffed and pushed his glasses up.

“What’s up, guys? Didn’t know we had company?” I moved Aldira’s bag out of the way and side-eyed the group that was trying to join us.

“N-no, never mind.” The girl waved themselves off and dragged him back to the disappointed friend group they had.

“Man, you fumbled that… the connections we lost… Ain’t no way, you look like you were going to piss your pants.”

“You know it’s been years, and still people try and act all buddy-buddy with us.”

“Can’t blame them, look at us.”

“Off topic, but [name], did Richard get a BBL?” I smacked Aldira upside the head.

“What! It’s a serious question!”

“If I kill myself, would you guys miss me?”

“Your car, definitely,” I replied to Penny.

“Guess what? Another attack is going on, it’s your turn, Ali” Aldira grumbled right next to me as Astro turned his laptop around for us to see the news.

“Ai!” Meet ‘Ai’, otherwise known as Aldira. (Making up names is hard for superheroes.)

He chose that name since it sounded like an ‘eye’ because he could see out of any electronic device and could hack and control them. It would’ve been really bad if he went emo and villainy on us.

Penelope is an ‘Artist,’ the name stemming from the fact that she could draw and whatever it was would appear. It had to be specific, like the position if it was an item like a boulder or something, and if the drawing was too vague, you needed to describe it in detail.

Finally, we have ‘Composer.’ I think you could tell what his power is by now, but it just emulates elemental power from playing any sort of instrument. He was able to gain the ability to play any instrument with the gained power so it would be more accessible in any room. The elements branch off so that power is also great.

And I’m still me. Some people would feel bad for me, but I’m having the time of my life. Don’t get me wrong, powers are cool, but the cons that come with them aren’t. You could use it for good or bad, and there’s no in-between. I highly doubt anyone with magic wouldn’t use it, and whether it impacts them or not, it will.

Physically, mentally? All I know is that having powers changes everything, and that’s the last thing I need right now. Seeing how it changed my friend's life just solidified my reasons.

“[name], you and your friends haven’t been hanging out a lot. If you're ever lonely, I’ll always be considerate and let you sit with me.” Serena told me innocently, but honestly, the words told me a different story.

Mind you, I’m mid-bite into my brownies that I made and just wanted a quick snack before I lock in for my ap statistics test tomorrow.

“The last thing [name] would want to do with you is hang out; besides, if she were lonely, she’d hang out with me.” Melody tugged Serena away.

I took that as my cue and plugged my headphones in.

3RD POV

“And you will do that by doing what? You’re even in the same grade as us.”

“Just like how you aren’t smart enough to be in the same classes as her?”

At this point, they were just insulting each other face-to-face with that comedic headbutting thing. [name] just turned on the TV to see her friends working together with the current attack, and then heard a door opening behind the catfight before her.

“You know, I have to hand it to those kids; a break during the day feels nice.” In comes my realtor, Bruce Wayne, holding Delphie, before spotting the two girls tussling.

“Serena! Melody! Let go of each other!”

They both immediately let go and eye each other down, and each parent goes to their child. 

“Are you okay, What did Serena do now, hm?” Delphie scanned all around, looking for some sort of injury. She gently held Melody like she was a piece of glass.

“What started all of this?” Bruce brooded. Some of the family returned from their mission/rooms to see the commotion.

“I- She- enugh-” Melody cried, and Serena just scoffed before putting on her innocent facade again.

“We didn’t mean to; it’s just- we, [name]...” She shielded her face, and suddenly, for once, the attention was all on [name].

Negative attention.

“[name], what trouble did you cause for them to fight? Are you not ashamed? As their older sister, you shouldn’t set a bad example. You don’t see any of your other siblings doing something like this, do you?” Bruce stood there with crossed arms and a stone-cold face.

“It’s not like that- She’s twisting her words!” Melody spurted in Delphie's hold, and some of her siblings came up to console her, but she raised an eyebrow and slapped their hands away.

“Enough, [name], go to your room. You’ve done enough. Now…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, not from sadness or anything; She just wasn’t done chewing on her brownies before massaging her temples and standing up and heading to her room. 

To be fair, you have to hand it to her, she squinted hard to see what Bruce was saying.

Not before getting berated at.

“You really are just trouble and a burden.” Damian started as she passed, making her freeze and stare at him.

“What did he say, my narwhal is going up and down?- what is he spouting so fast😨???” The stressed-out senior just nodded.

From her point of view though, this toddler was speaking out words like he was the next rapper, so she opted on giving a smile(?) but it looked more like a sneer due to Bruce’s damn genes. Damian was shocked before rolling his eyes, but his mouth got cupped by Dick.

“[name], don’t cause a scene. Damian didn’t mean it.” He motioned her off, but that made her even more confused because she still didn’t understand what was going on and just gave up on understanding and more on getting some work in.

[name]’s POV

Man, this assignment is killing me. I should go to bed soon, but I haven’t watered my belladonnas in a hot minute. I popped my neck and my back before getting up and grabbing my plant mister. I walked over to my belladonnas. I sprayed a few, then put it down to admire the belladonnas. I gently touched a petal, and it began growing quickly through my room, making me fall back.

Taking off my headphones, I adjusted my glasses. It seemed the belladonnas moved in whatever way I wanted them to. Not what I needed before going to bed, but the last thing I needed was to talk to myself about this, and I rushed over to my phone.

[Facetiming (Academic Victims)] (idk abt yall but my gc changes a lot.)

“ERm 🤓 we might have a situation, guys.” I awkwardly smiled at the camera and showed my flower-covered room.

"Did your family let poison ivy in your house?” Penny looked like she went through ten pounds of sugar but we won’t talk about that as she still managed to answer the call at the end of the day.

“I was just trying to water some flowers 😞😤, so uh, any advice on how to control your magic?”

Finally, it seemed to register in the 3 heroes' minds why her room looked like she just got captured by Poison Ivy.

“Wait, wait- you can control plants?!” 

“IDK, I JUST WANTED TO WATER MY BELLADONNAS!” 

3rd POV

Leaping from a building and dodging a bullet by hitting a split before tying a guy up and throwing him off the building, landing him in a snap dragon that engulfed them before letting them on the ground, lining them up with their teammates.

‘Deceptful grace’ is what she calls the move for the snap dragon.

Descending from her poppy swing, she landed in front of a talon and, having him wrapped in vines, she bounced off.

“So- if you ever make mac n’ cheese make sure none of your guests are lactose intolerant or do, no one cares.” She ranted about her thoughts while trying to search for the last remaining guy.

A guy behind her shoots a bullet, but before it can collide with her, it bursts into petals, making her turn around and pull him from his feet by some weeds that were on the grass, wrapping him in weeds too, before dragging them to a boutique shop and decorating them.

“Red or yellow?”

“What?”

“For the flowers, goofy.” She smiled at him.

She was the superhero known as ‘Florist’ and made a magical girl-like design for a costume as she had been scrolling through Tumblr the night before and was reading a few things here and there and got back into her childhood phase.

It has flower designs that wrapped around her body and she wore these pointe shoes that went damn good with the outfit too.

“Alrighty, say cheese, dummies.” She pulled out her phone and put up a peace sign while the talons just frowned and accepted their fate.

By fair they had to say she’s the worst hero they go up against, not only does she yap their ear off but she degrades them too while she’s at it, and the worst part is she says it so nicely that you almost forget she called you an ‘dick rider’ a second early with a sweet tone.

You have the Bat-family that makes things quick and doesn't say anything other than their emo words.

Ai, he doesn’t even face them most of the time, he hijacks something, heck it might even belong to you, then jumps you.

Oh, and if you somehow hear a magnificent melody, don’t clap, don’t cheer, it’s not a good sign, it means you’re going down, avatar style. Then you just see Composer walk up and spray some sort of sanitizer over you before he even decides to make sure you’re still alive before shoving you in a police car and heading to god knows where.

But don’t worry because the Artist will just put you in a jail cell. No need for the fighting, you’re already apprehended.

And they thought metahumans only stayed in metropolises. (Not metahumans, you fake ass fans 😞)

“So anyway, today I went to school, you know, because unlike you donkies I like to be educated, and I stumbled into a girl, she was crying, get this, she got rejected by one of the popular guys.”

“Wait, who?”

“I can’t tell y’all confidentially; besides, I’m a minor- technically, you know it’s sad when you beef with little kids.”

“Alright, lay off us 💀”

“So anyway, she then started to bother his brother.”

“Why…?”

“Because if you can’t go after one, go after the other attractive one, you feel me?” 

“You like ‘em?” 

“I’ll slap you in your face; that would be illegal in so many ways. Anyway, his sister came up, she did that innocent act, and so the girl thought she was trying to steal him anyway.”

“Let me be a spoiled Gotham kid in my next life.” One of the talons whispered to the other.

“I wouldn’t advise it; you look like you’d get bullied just for your hair.” The girl shrugged.

“Just kill me.” A talon looked over to his other accomplices and they were knock out cold, not from anything violent but rather because this girl had been here talking to them since an hour ago but had to keep them company since something bigger was going on in the center and the batfam were taking care of that and her squad was taking care of the other villains.

“Alright, thank you for capturing them. We’ll take it from here.” Police finally showed up after a good hour.

“There is a god out there.” The guy smiled up to the sky, a single tear slipping out of his eye.

[name]’s POV

You know acrobat is fucking hard and scary as hell but seeing the tricks are fun.

I’m saying this because I bought a few things that I thought would be good for training, especially when I’m in the air or high spaces.

Of course, I only do it when I’m done with ballet practice as there’s a show I’m performing soon, ‘Sleeping Beauty’. The hardest part would be holding my pose for a good minute, on my toes, one foot up and a hand up while a guy slowly spins me around before I let go and stay in that pose for a little long. No, it’s not even my legs that much, compared to my back.

Fun fact: common misconception is that I’m standing on my tippy toe, that my toes are bending when I’m doing ballet, but you’d be wrong as I’m literally on the tips of my toes, no bending is happening (lol)

I got a pole, so that I can do that dramatic sliding and twirling around while I’m going down, silks for similar reasons and is really interesting, a hoop, and currently my favorite currently has to be the trapeze.

I put on my bodysuit that had shorts on them and some socks that left out my toes both in back before tying up my hair the best way I would so they wouldn’t get in the way of my face and stood up.

First, though, I start a bit with body control.

I let out a nervous breathe before swinging on the trapeze letting my feet meet the base of it, letting go of the strings that attach to it, I twirled midair and let my legs wrap themselves onto the strings letting myself swing before using the momentum to push up with my torso and twirling into a sitting position letting my bottom rest on the base of it, and swinging a bit, glad to still be intact, letting my legs swing back and forth before standing back onto one of the ledges.

“That should be enough for one day…” I went down and stretched a bit before heading out before seeing Cassandra and Dick at the door.

It wasn’t unusual as sometimes they would practice here. I gave them a small smile before pushing a button that I had Aldira install, and it went back to how it usually was.

“Your ballet is impressive, as always.” Cassandra complimented me.

“Thank you…” I blushed not used to getting complements, especially from Cassandra, she’s one of the people I admire after all.

“Acrobat.” I titled my head at Dicks word.

“You do acrobatics.” I nodded. (Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy? 🤨)

“It’s fun, I’d recommend it, but you already seem fexible enough.” With that I left them to training and went to my room.

Guess you could say… I keep it undercover. (Sorry, I had to ♥️)

Damian insulting [name] in the hallway summary:

“What the…”

“imgonnabeatimgonnabeatyou “

“Is he saying something?”

“imgonnabeatyouimgonnabeatyou”

“I’M GONNA BEAT YOU”

Little background context for [name]: She has never strived for the batfam's attention, as she was more focused on appeasing her mom. No, she doesn't have a family-like relationship with Alfred. From her POV, they are more like baking buddies, and she knows his main point of job is to serve the Wayne family and feels like sometimes he's hanging out with her out of obligation. So far, the only people obsessed with her are Melody - [D/D], Delphie - [M/D], and Serena. The main friend group of [name] is popular for their grades and social standing. (Maybe outfit inspos, too).

I'm debating on if [name] has ever told them the truth behind the mask of batfam. I'll leave that to you guys. Also, I'll just make it to how the school doesn't know that [name] is related to the Waynes for plot reasons, and the only people who know are her friends and, obvi, her family. [name] doesn't know the context for any of the batfams background and is just great at guessing the craziest logic that does, in fact, apply to anyone.

Yeah, how do we feel? It's very hard to stick to one prompt, and I had so much fun writing this. Anyway, if something new pops up... (hopefully it won't bc I already have so many things to write for) Don't be surprised.

Also, I think I gave details on [name] 's friend's magic but haven't gone into [name] herself, as you can tell she has plant magic, I took it from the request, but it ain't just flowers but also herbs and trees stuff like that, dabbles into poison and healing as yk they are plants and they are the bases for everything technically anyway yeah pretty cool 😎.

I tried a new type of formatting with the photos and skinny divider if y'all didn't notice... you like? If there are any formatting oddities please tell me.

Anyway hope you guys like it, would you like this to be a series? How do you guys feel about how slow I update.

PLS PLS PLS comment and sent request my beautiful viewers and uhhh, yeah ❤. (making me feel like a beggar out in these streets 🙄)

Oh, and if there's anything wrong with the spelling, grammar, or something just not right and cringy, TELL MEE.

[dworkism]

hiii junoooo my husbands wife!! (and mine) i’ve been thinking about hanta growing out a little mustache stubble moment and he’s sooo proud of it (bc ofc he would be) and reader kinda teasing him about it but secretly really like it. if you could do something with that it’d be amazing i know you can get me right ok love u bye

BLOOM YES YOU ARE A GENIUS this idea is #PEAK

it ain't much, but it's honest work.

there's always a first time for everything. for hanta, it was growing a stubble.

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

cw / notes : fluff! established relationship

511 word count!

It’s been almost a week since Hanta started doing this… thing. 

First thing in the morning, he’d kiss your cheeks hard. Then spends at least three extra minutes in the bathroom, before coming out all grinning and whistling that telenovela soundtrack he loves. 

At first, you thought his mother probably sent him new clothes from his hometown. He always gets giddy for that, but nope, he hasn’t even worn anything new these past three days. Deciding to drop it, you settled it was probably him being happy from climbing the hero charts. 

That is until you were talking to him one evening, and that was when you spotted it. 

His hand—restless and looked like it wouldn’t stay still, always rubbing somewhere between his chin and under his nose. 

Oooohhhh, so that’s why. 

You snickered, the slight coarse textures of his stubble now obvious to your eyes. It wasn’t much, but hey, at least it was honest work. 

“Whaatt?” He grinned, as if he didn’t notice the way your eyes were on his chin.

“Nothing,” You brushed it off, waving your hand with a grin you couldn’t hold back. “Continue, continue.”

He cornered his lips, narrowing his eyes with a skeptical gaze, before he continued. “Well, I was saying, my gear broke mid swing! Like—literally!” His hand found its way back to his jaw, rubbing it again as he chattered away.

You blinked, stifling back a smile every time he smiled a bit wider when he touched his slight stubble, like a boy beyond proud of his newly crafted toy robot. 

With his third time of lifting his hand up from his lap to his jaw, your laughter barked out. He stared at you dumbfounded, “Whaaattt?” He whined, flopping his hands down to the couch. “You keep laughing at me!”

“You keep–” Giggling, you copied his motions. “Doing this! Every five seconds!” 

“No I don’t!!” He argued, cheeks a faint tint of peach. “It’s not that often,”

“Yes you do,” You scoffed, chuckling at his weak protest. “You look like you have a secret evil plan.” 

Hanta’s groan was muffled by a pillow, lifting up to his face as he sunk down the cushions. “So whaaat, I like it, okay?” He drawled, pulling down the pillow just enough for you to see his eyes only. “I’ve been trying to grow it, now it’s here, let me have my moment,”

You smiled, shuffling closer to his spot. Gently, you pried away the pillow, letting him show his reluctant pout to you. “I’m not teasing you because of it, silly.” Your hand found its way to his jaw, cradling his face to look at you properly. “I’m teasing you ‘cause you look like a kid who just got a piece of candy.” 

“I like it, swear.” You murmured, brushing your thumb over his slight stubble, coarse and a tad bit sharp. “You look nice with it,”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before letting his smile bloom to a grin, popping back up onto the couch to sit up straight again. 

“Okay, well as I was saying–”

dworkism | do not repost!

imagine him being SOOO brutal about it too like he'd kiss you HARD on purpose just cause you'd complain about it

taglist : @bloomness @deepinthegroves @insomniatears @coldnightshark @lilac-heartz @love-me-satoru @antriimx @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @xolunlun @idexmids @idkidk32

be a part of the tag list!

➤ masterlist!

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Hi Pine!! shamelessly requesting Arthur Morgan x female reader... Reader patching up Arthur after a fistfight in Valentine? She's chiding him but also her heart is fluttering and she's blushing because her big man protected her

Thank you lovely!!!!!!!!!!

Heeey Cassie!! Thank you so much for your ask, I love it! Felt like it has been done a lot already, so I never dared do my own version, so thank you once again for giving me an excuse to write it eheh! (Also this is pretty funny because it could be a sequel to this mini prompt!)

"Just, stay seated, for God's sake!"

Arthur grumbles, not hiding his discontentment for a bit. It had been a struggle to drag him and make him sit on a box behind the supplies' wagon.

"Look at you..." You sigh, tilting his head up with your index finger under his scared chin. Arthur looks at you with two puppy eyes, their blue color so bright, even more vibrant than usual, compared to the black of the bruises dappling his skin. Even like that, he was so beautiful, in his rugged kind of way. This man could have been a painting; you were just sorry that it would be a violent one.

"Always been ugly darlin', a few scratches ain't changing much..."

"Hush now. You're not getting up from that box until I take care of you, Mr Morgan." Your tone is firm and soft at the same time, and he knows you're right. There's just something in his guts that tells him it's not right. That he doesn't need any of that, that you shouldn't waste your time on him. He doesn't deserve it.

He concedes and nods without another word. Finally. You grab the medical supplies and start working, focused. You clean his cuts, and you notice how he stiffens at the pain when the alcohol reaches his flesh. You gently apply ointment to his bruises, trying to be as delicate as possible. He doesn't complain anymore.

You try not to look too flustered when he undoes a few buttons from his shirt, pulling his it down to grant you access to a big cut he had right between his neck and shoulder.

"It's going to sting." You warn him, and he nods again, knowing already how it feels to get patched up after a lifetime of fights turned bad. He only grunts when the needle pierces through his skin for the first time.

"That one was a really close one. Do you ever think, Arthur?" You scold, realising just how deep he was willing to go to defend you.

"Not that close." He mutters, his eyes looking away from you as he tries not to look at your chest bent over to him as you're patching him up. The way you were so close, he could even smell your heady scent, his heart beating faster at this sudden proximity. "Would do it all over, if I had to."

You feel your cheeks heat against your will. Fuck, blushing isn't going to help your credibility reprimand this six foot tall beast of a man. There are a few moments of silence as you finish with a small knot, and you catch his cerulean gaze, fingers lingering on his skin more than necessary.

Through those eyes, you know the man before you could handle a hundred more wounds like those, just for you to be safe and sound, and this vertiginous idea never leaves you as you cross all limits and gently press a kiss on the side of his face, scratchy stubble tickling your lips. It was the least you could do in return, after all.

You don't see it, but your blush spreads and leaks onto his own cheeks, a timid and juvenile flame igniting two souls and consuming them silently.

[emmylksblog]

H.FORT BF HEADCANONS!

based on this request

a/n: extra long to feed you girlies cuz i ain't uploading any soon, writing just takes my whole day and not gonna lie drains all my energy :(

hope it doesn’t disappoint! stay safe yall 🫶🏻

⚽︎ bf! hector doesn't have time for long skincare routines between games and practices. His own routine was a quick rinse with water and a bar of soap. But watching you spend at least an hour every night made him memorize the process without even noticing.

Whenever you come home after a long day, completely exhausted, I imagine hector insisting on doing your skincare for you.

⚽︎ bf! hector would always be the big spoon. He took great pride in being protective of you, and cuddling was just an extension of that role. But on nights when he would feel particularly vulnerable, like after a brutal loss on the field, Hector would flip around and let you hold him instead.

⚽︎ bf! hector would never leave for training without giving you a goodbye kiss. Even if you're still asleep, he'll pause next to the bed, gently smooth your hair from your face and brush his lips against your forehead. It's a small gesture, but he knows he won't be able to see you until much later in the day.

⚽︎ bf! hector would be the type to keep a hair tie on his wrist at all times. You were infamous for forgetting to bring one with you whenever you left the house, and once your hair became a tangled mess, it would annoy you endlessly. To prevent any potential tantrums, Hector took it upon himself to always have a hair tie at the ready whenever you two were together.

And yes, it also had the added benefit of signaling to all the other women in the room that he was taken. He liked that even better.

⚽︎ bf! hector would love to brush your teeth together. He enjoyed starting and ending the day with you in that quiet, intimate moment. Sometimes he would even sulk a little if you did it without him.

"You started without me?" he would complain, pouting a bit as he picked up his own toothbrush.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would adore to spend time with your family. He especially would enjoy playing football with your siblings, as it would allow him to show off a little and get them excited about the sport. Your siblings would usually end up worshipping him within minutes of starting a game, especially when he'd let them score on him occasionally. He'd always make a point to ruffle their hair or give them an encouraging high-five afterward.

hector had never had siblings of his own, but that didn't stop him from instantly bonding with yours.

⚽︎ bf! hector who seems unable to keep his hands off you when he's driving. He always has his arm around your shoulders or is holding your hand. Sometimes he even caresses your thighs while he's driving. He simply can't go for too long without touching you. It's like a need for him to feel your skin against his and know you're close.

⚽︎ bf! hector who pretends to be cool and collected when you attend his games, but deep down, he's absolutely thrilled to have your support. He puts on a poker face, trying to maintain his tough-guy image, but in reality, he loves it when you cheer him on.

His favorite part is when you wear his jersey. Seeing you in his colors, proudly showing everyone that you're his biggest supporter.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would always look out for you, especially when you're wearing high heels. Once your feet start screaming in pain, he'll immediately notice and sweep you into his strong arms.

"I can't have my girlfriend suffering on my watch,"

⚽︎ bf! hector would be your biggest supporter in your career endeavors. He would encourage you to go after whatever goals you had and would do his best to help support you in any way he could.

After long study sessions, he'd insist on giving you massages to work out the aches and knots that had formed in your back.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a fiercely independent person, not one to rely on others for much. But with you, he would allow himself to be vulnerable.

He would love it when you pampered him, especially when it came to his hair and face. Only you had the privilege of touching his skin so intimately. Whenever you'd stroke his cheek or run your fingers through his hair, he'd lean into it, his eyes fluttering closed. He knew he could relax and let you take care of him.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a disaster in the kitchen (pls that man can't cook to save his life, if you have seen the video of him and cubarsi you will agree with me). Even boiling water was a challenge for him. But when you got sick, he wanted to take care of you, even if he didn't know how.

He called his mom for help, determined to prepare something nourishing and healing for you. Unfortunately, his culinary skills proved to be woefully lacking, and his attempt at the dish was more "creative adaptation" than actual recipe. It didn't taste great, but the gesture was heartfelt, and you appreciated his effort.

⚽︎ bf! hector who has a weakness for your collarbone. Every time he kissed it, you'd let out a little giggle or squeak, and it was music to his ears. He relished the fact that he could make you laugh with just a simple action.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would have unwavering trust in you. He would value your opinion above anyone else's and take your advice to heart, believing that your wisdom was unmatched.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would make sure to hold your hand, as if afraid that you might slip away from him in the crowd.

Whether you were attending a fancy gala or grabbing coffee at a local café, it was always the same - his larger hand would instinctively reach out for yours, lacing your fingers together tightly. He took comfort in the warmth of your touch, and the knowledge that you were right there beside him.

⚽︎ bf! hector would gladly tag along when you hit the gym on his days off. His true motivator for agreeing to go was definitely to watch you work out, admiring the way your body moved and how you pushed yourself to your limits.

However, he would always throw in a few exercises for himself as well. After all, he couldn't let you have all the fun, could he? And who knows, the extra cardio might just come in handy later...

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a playful partner (i know he is and you can't tell me otherwise), and one of his favorite ways of messing with you was biting you to get your attention. He would nibble on your earlobe or your neck, just hard enough to get a reaction.

But oh, the tease didn't stop there. Once he had your attention, he'd act completely nonchalant, like he hadn't just been biting you for cuddles. He'd lean back with a smug grin on his face, feigning ignorance about what had just happened.

⚽︎ bf! hector who can't resist pampering you, especially when it comes to your nails. Every time you'd get a manicure, he'd insist on paying for it, claiming it was an investment in his own comfort.

He absolutely loved the feeling of your manicured nails scratching gently against his scalp, massaging his head and sending tingles down his spine.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a waist boy through and through. Once he had his hands on your waist, he rarely let go.

⚽︎ bf! hector who adores your hair. He would love the way it looked, whether it was flowing freely down your back or pulled up in a neat bun.

He would often find excuses to reach out and touch it, running his fingers through the strands or absentmindedly twirling a lock around his finger. He would bury his face in your hair when he hugged you, inhaling your scent and letting the silky smoothness of your locks caress his skin.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would turn to his mother when he found himself in hot water with you. Whenever you two had a disagreement or you were upset with him, he would seek the counsel of his mom.

In the end, his mother would always encourage him to swallow his pride and apologize to you, no matter who had started the argument.

⚽︎ bf! hector can't stand being on your bad side. He hated feeling disconnected from you, and the idea of you giving him the silent treatment was torturous.

He would do just about anything to get you speaking to him again, even if it meant being the one to cave and apologize first. He missed the sound of your voice, and he'd do anything to hear it again.

⚽︎ bf! hector who can't help but gush about you in front of his friends and teammates.

"Man, do you ever shut up about her?" Marc would tease him, pretending to be annoyed. "We get it, She's great."

But no matter how much he teased Hector, it wouldn't stop the smitten footballer from talking about you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves imitating you, often teasingly mimicking your mannerisms and expressions just to get a rise out of you.

You'd respond with a swift punch to his arm, trying to hide your embarrassment as he chuckled at your reaction. Despite the mock annoyance, deep down, you couldn't help but be endeared by his antics.

⚽︎ bf! hector who exudes a natural air of dominance, but is always willing to let you take the lead when the mood strikes you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a passionate fan of Anuel, and typically had no tolerance for those who weren't. But you were the exception.

He tried to convert you many times, but your music taste leaned more towards pop and r&b. Despite his best efforts, you just couldn't get into Anuel's music.

Hector might grumble and complain about your apparent lack of culture, but deep down, he forgave you for it. After all, he loved you more than his favorite artist.

(i think this is just a reflection of how i think, but as a spanish i don't like anuel lmao)

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves seeing your face whenever he pulls out his phone. He had a picture of you set as his wallpaper, and he also had your baby photo in his phonecase.

(idk if that’s weird but couples do it where i live)

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves seeing you in his hoodies. There was something about your petite frame engulfed in his oversized clothing that made him feel extra protective of you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would consider you his life partner. He sees you as his other half, the person who completes him in every way. He trusts you implicitly and can't imagine facing the world without you by his side.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Dorm Heads - With Zhongli Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I'm sorry this took so long to post, Mystery anon! I've been super busy with personal stuff so I haven't had a lot of free time to work on this. I got pretty burned out at Idia's part and I couldn't be bothered to touch it up honestly; so, sorry about that. I hope this is what you wanted. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🌹 This hot headed boy was pretty surprised to find that the supposed magicless student from the orientation ceremony was not in fact magicless; seeing as you brought down a literal meteor and crushed the poor unsuspecting, feline resembling, monster. A meteor which appeared out of thin air and left no traces of damage behind after its impact. To say poor Riddle was confused and also fairly alarmed was an understatement. 

🌹 Your mannerisms were very strange to him. You're very well spoken and composed; yet you're seemingly wise beyond your years. Why are you speaking as if you're in your 80s? Riddle won't lie though; for an old man you're quite good looking. If he didn't have a reputation to uphold and examples to set, he could stare at you all day long.

🌹 A dragon? Well… that explains a lot. No wonder the Dark Mirror couldn't detect magic in you; or at least, that's what he reasons with himself. Please; he needs an explanation, he's so confused. Upon seeing your dragon form though… Riddle is once again confused. Are dragons supposed to be that long? Not that he's complaining though; the way you make a massive bed out of yourself is hard to contest.

🌹 T‐Treasure? Him? That's— Now look here; no amount of buttering him up will make you exempt from the rules, You— you scoundrel! Riddle is not easily tricked! Even if he is a tad bit more lenient with you, no he's not. You have no proof.

🌹 You have a son now too!? Just what else aren't you telling him!? Riddle doesn't mind Xiao at all actually. He thinks that they're both similar in how dedicated they are to their work. The adeptus seems to only tolerate him though; which, while disheartening, he completely understands.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

"How odd, the Dark Mirror perceived you as magicless, yet you summoned stone and earth just now. Just who are you..?"

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

🦁 Right off the bat Leona could smell it and immediately he knew; that ain't a damn human. However, he couldn't seem to pinpoint just what you were exactly. You smelled similar to his one sided rival, Malleus, but it was different somehow. In the end, he just chalked it up to you being a fae of some kind. He did find it bizarre that the Dark Mirror claimed you to be magicless and directly after that you used magic. Whatever, he just wants a nap.

🦁 Why the hell are you talking like that? You sound like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head. Seriously, who in the world says ‘quite’ anymore. But, Leona doesn't mind you going off on one of your long winded story times about your past. Your deep voice is very smooth and soothing to his ears and has lulled him to sleep successfully every time.

🦁 HA! He knew it; his nose is never wrong after all. Well… maybe Leona was off by a little; but you're certainly not a human. A dragon though? No wonder you smelled similar to his nemesis; except your scent is more earthy than the dragon fae's. Your dragon form makes a very comfortable body pillow to cling onto. Yes, he is indeed speaking from experience. What was said experience, you ask? You were taking a nap in your dorm room while in your dragon form and woke up with a wild lion beastman clinging onto you.

🦁 Treasure, huh? Okay, be prepared for him to call you nicknames of his own. Noodle is one that Leona uses the most; a way to endearingly tease you about the foreign look of your dragon form. Another one he likes to use is old man/gramps; a tease on the strange way you speak.

🦁 Oh dear Seven; please not another Cheka, he doesn't think he can deal with another gremlin in this lifetime. Thankfully for Leona though, the avian adeptus is far older than his hyperactive nephew and awfully cold too. The lion beastman is pretty sure that Xiao doesn't like him, but you've continually assured him that your son actually really enjoys his presence.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

"Damn, you sure talk a lot, Gramps. Hah? I didn't tell ya to stop or anything, keep talkin' I'm almost asleep."

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐙 His immediate impression of you was actually very positive! You seemed incredibly knowledgeable and well spoken. But what really caught Azul's attention was your apparently unrecognizable magic. The Dark Mirror proclaimed you magicless and yet shortly after the proclamation you displayed an exceptional control over stone and earth when you suddenly summoned a large stone pillar to attack your rampaging familiar. Color him intrigued.

🐙 My, what a strange way of speaking you have; are you perhaps anything like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head where you're far older than you appear? Azul actually doesn't find your mannerisms all that strange to be honest, he thinks it just gives a certain charm to you.

🐙 Oh, so you're a dragon are you? Would you perhaps be interested in signing a contract with him? It's for your benefit, he swears. No? Damn. Your dragon form reminds him a bit of various aquatic animals that populate the Coral Sea. Don't mind him calling you any names of fish you've never heard of, okay. Sometimes, if he's tired enough, Azul will allow you to cuddle with him in your dragon form. It's quite comfortable, so he doesn't mind too much.

🐙 Azul doesn't mind giving nicknames to people, but he's not too used to receiving from anyone other than Floyd and sometimes Jade. So when you refer to him as your treasure, he's caught off guard and pretty flustered. He'll never not be red in the face when you call him by that pet name, but he has a few of his own for you. Oarfish is one that he uses often, mostly in a teasing sense. Another is Ropefish, this one is used sparingly, he never told you why though.

🐙 Xiao… does not like him. The adeptus made it very clear upon their first meeting when he held the blade of his polearm to the poor cecaelia's throat and fixed him with the sharpest glare Azul had ever seen. It would seem that you told him about the whole contract debacle that went down before his overblot and your son wasn't going to forgive him any time soon.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

"Are you perhaps interested in making a contract with me? My services are quite high quality and will certainly benefit you in the future. Eh? S‐shady? Me?"

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

🪲 Kalim thought that you were really cool when he first saw you at the entrance ceremony! Not only did you help him put the fire on his butt out, you also summoned a huge meteor out of nowhere! “‘I will have order!’” You sounded so cool! Ah… but wait– didn't the Dark Mirror say that you were magicless? Oh whatever, it doesn't matter anyway.

🪲 Why do you talk like you're old? You look way too young to talk like that; maybe around Professor Crewel's age but that in itself is a stretch. Expect a lot of questions from Kalim; like a lot. How old are you really? Are you a fae? Were you raised by your grandparents? What do you mean you don't know what omg means? How did you get your hair so shiny? Why do you wear clothes like that? Where are you from? Do you have a job? What do you do for work? Why are you looking at him like that? Huh… who's Hu Tao?

🪲 A Dragon!? That's so cool! Our precious boy was completely blindsided by the revelation that you were, in fact, not a human. When you reveal your dragon form to him Kalim is ecstatic, attempting to wrap his arms around your now massive form. Most times you'll be lounging on his massive bed while in your dragon form as he lays in the middle of your coiled body; running his fingers through the fur on your neck and pressing kisses to your snout.

🪲 While he certainly doesn't mind receiving nicknames and pet names, actually he loves it, it makes him happy, but Kalim isn't one to give nicknames himself, he prefers to use their birth names because it feels more intimate. However, he's not against it when you call him your treasure, he's very happy, it makes him feel all warm and bubbly inside. He might call you Cobra from time to time but it definitely won't be too often.

🪲 You have a kid? Can he meet them!? Please, please, please! Yes? Yay! Your poor emo son was immediately glomped by the eldest prince of the scorching sands as soon as he entered the room. Kalim was so excited that he didn't even let the adeptus speak before he vomited questions at him. Xiao actually didn't mind him at all, the golden retriever-like boy reminded him of a certain oni he once met in the Casm in Liyue.

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

"Why do you talk like you're old but look so young? Are you a fae like Lilia? What kind? Can I see your wings? Am I allowed to ask that? Wait! Was that rude!? I'm sorry!"

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

👑 Vil actually had a very positive but slightly strained impression of you. You were very well put together; a foreign beauty from another land if you will. Well dressed, well spoken and dashingly handsome; it would be a lie to say that he felt a bit threatened by your arrival to the NRC. Not only were you undeniably attractive though, you possessed an unknown magic that the Dark Mirror couldn't even identify. You were marvelous but mysterious, beautiful yet dangerous. He couldn't help but find himself lost in those glowing amber eyes as you summoned a translucent shield around yourself.

👑 Goodness you're like that Lilia fellow from Diasomnia, only taller, far more charming and much less with the times. Truly, your lack of knowledge about modern technology and tendency to forget your wallet is astonishing. You're like an old man trapped in a young man's body. Don't worry though, Vil will do his best to lay it all out clearly for you.

👑 I'm sorry, you're a what? Could you repeat that darling, Vil doesn't quite think he heard you right. Oh, a dragon, well… okay. He's never seen a real dragon before but something about that form of yours seems a bit… off should he say? You actually resemble more of a snake in his opinion. He won't cuddle with you in your dragon form, unfortunately. His clothes are far too expensive to be covered in dragon fur; but he will give you a few pets from a good distance away. Take what you can get, man.

👑 I need you to know that Vil is the fairest of them all, he's heard it all by now. Well… he thought he did. It wasn't really the pet name but the sincerity in that loving tone you used when you called him your treasure. Oh, how it made him swoon! You rascal, flattery will get you everywhere with him.

👑 Xiao… is afraid of him. One time, you left the two of them alone for ten minutes and came back to a trashed room, a grinning Vil and a beautified yaksha that was trembling in embarrassment and rage. Your poor emo son was holding himself high up and far away from the beautiful man by hanging onto his winged jade spear that was stabbed into the wall. The Pomfiore prefect was right though, green really is Xiao's color.

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

"Are you sure you're a dragon? I've never heard of dragon being quite so... oddly shaped. No– I'm not saying you look bad, you're very majestic and dare I say intimidating, I simply haven't ever seen a dragon like you before."

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•��•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

💀 He recognized you from somewhere; he was sure of it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. From his tablet, Idia watched as the Dark Mirror addressed you as magicless; though, shortly after, you summoned a pillar of dark brown and amber colored stone to subdue your fire spewing familiar. You were so familiar, yet he couldn't think of where from, it was like some divine intervention was preventing it. Weird….

💀 You… How are you so clueless about technology? Just where the hell are you from that you don't know what a phone is? Your young appearance betrays your age too… You're like an irl anime character! Idia is absolutely raving! Hold on; let him write down a couple catchphrases and design you a costume! Don't worry, he'll teach you all he knows about modern tech as long as you go to this upcoming cosplay convention with him. You can be his main shielding healer from ‘Outworld Collision’!

💀 A dragon? Okay… so? Diasomnia's Dorm Head is kind of a dragon, so what's there to be surprised about? Your dragon form is a bit strange looking, but it's not like he'd actually tell you that; then again he's seen a lot of weird fantasy shit in the media he consumes on the daily, so he has no real reason to comment. Idia enjoy sitting in the middle of your coiled up serpentine body as he plays his games and reads his light novels; enthusiastically explaining the plot as he goes.

💀 T‐teasure? Your treasure? This poor man just about died when you called him that pet name for the first time. You thought he was so valuable that you compared him to treasure? Hold on, give Idia a second so he can compose himself, he's absolutely blue screening right now. 

💀 Your son actually still has yet to meet Idia; he always psyches himself up to meet the yaksha but then chickens out at the last minute. He's just worried that if Xiao doesn't like him then you'll change your mind about being with him. It's not that he thinks the adeptus would purposely try and break the two of you up, he's just super paranoid.

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

"T‐treasure? Me? Ah... t‐thank you... I t‐treasure you as well; you mean a lot to me. Um, g‐give me a second, I'll give you a nickname too.."

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

🐲 Malleus, of course, hadn't attended the orientation ceremony due to not receiving an invitation, however Lilia had told him all about you when he returned to Diasomnia. He was very intrigued to hear about how you didn't seem to be human despite your appearance. As well as how the Dark Mirror had mistakenly labeled you as magicless as you seemed to display expert control over stone and earth. You truly lived up to expectations when he finally met you during his midnight walk around Ramshackle. You were quite the beauty as well.

🐲 Your disposition didn't faze him in the slightest. If anything, it just confirmed Malleus’ assumptions that you certainly weren't a human. He and Lilia speak in the exact same way as you, so he has no reason to be concerned nor intrigued about it. However, your habit of forgetting your wallet is a bit vexing.

🐲 You're… a dragon? Really!? Oh, you have absolutely no idea just how extatic he is to meet another dragon! Er, well, he isn't exactly a dragon, but he is close to it. Whenever you show him your dragon form, he's even more in awe of you than he was before. Truly, you were the most majestic creature he has ever had the pleasure to bear witness to. He'll happily show you his own dragon form too; expect to set aside a few hours once every week so that you and Malleus can cuddle together in said forms.

🐲 Your Treasure, you say? My my, you're quite charming aren't you? Now, Malleus isn't one to be easily flustered, but knowing how important treasures are to dragons, you're practically getting down on one knee when you call him that. Of course, he's not cruel enough to leave the sentiment unreturned, so he's taken to calling you his jewel or his fallen star in reference to you coming from another world.

🐲 Believe it or not, Xiao actually tried to kill him upon their first meeting. The yaksha had mistakenly thought that he was a demon that had somehow followed you all the way here. Thankfully though, you calmed your son down, explained the situation and introduced the two. Malleus actually took quite the liking to him despite the initial frosty reception; saying how the adeptus reminded him of a more quiet version of Sebek.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

"My, look at you. Such a gorgeous mane of fur, those glossy brown scales, curled horns of glowing amber, and those cute whiskers you have. What a magnificent creature you are, my darling."

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I put a spell on you

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 4

Prompt: Mistletoe

Rated: T

Tags: Magic AU; Witch Eddie; Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington; Sexual tension; Pining; Flirting

Notes: Set in the same universe as Spellbound

“What are you doing up there?”

Eddie shrieks, losing his balance and nearly toppling off his branch. He rudders his arms through the air like some sort of idiot before he manages to right himself and grab the tree trunk for support.

“Jesus, Harrington,” he swears. “Did nobody teach you not to sneak up on people hanging in trees or do you want me to break my neck?”

“Sorry,” says Steve, even though he sounds anything but. He’s smiling, the stupid, smug bastard. Eddie hates how pretty it makes him look. “I don’t talk to many people hanging in trees, usually. Which brings me back to my question. What are you doing up there? Is it a magic thing?”

Eddie’s first impulse is to throw back a snide remark. He knows how the fine townspeople gossip behind his and Wayne's backs. The trailer park trash with the witch blood.

Except Steve has never called him that. Steve’s never been anything but polite to him, and even now, his eyes only hold curiosity as he watches Eddie scramble off the tree.

“Yes, it's a magic thing,” Eddie grumbles, dusting bark off his clothes and picking sticks from his hair. “I'm harvesting mistletoe. You don't usually find it around here, so when you see it, you gotta snatch it.”

Steve’s brow wrinkles. “What, really? Isn't it a bit early for that? It's hardly even April, and anyway, can't you just use the store-bought plastic stuff?”

“Wha-?” Eddie says.

He's a bit surprised there's no audible sound when it finally clicks.

“Oh God, no,” he blurts. “I'm not using it as a Christmas decoration. The berries go into potions and stuff.”

He fumbles around in his pocket until he finds the plastic container with his harvest, flipping open the lid. Steve eyes the small, white berries, eyebrows rising in astonishment.

“I didn't know you also made potions.”

“I don't,” Eddie says. “My uncle does, but you don't want him climbing any trees with his back and knees. You gotta be careful with your potion ingredients. A few too many of these babies and you'll kill a guy instead of curing his arthritis, or give him a massive case of mud butt at the very least. I ain't fucking with that. Spells and charms only for me.”

Steve stares at him, nose wrinkled in mild disgust. Eddie mentally slaps himself. He's been oddly rambly around Steve lately, and he doesn't even know why.

“Anyhow,” he says. “Something I can help you with, or-?”

Steve perks up.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” he says, reaching inside the collar of his sweater to pull out something on a leather string. Eddie’s heart jumps into his mouth. “Y'know this charm you made for me?”

“No refunds,” Eddie says automatically. “I told you I couldn't make Wheeler fall back in love with you if she doesn't have feelings for you anymore. I can only-”

“Amplify feelings that are still there,” says Steve. “I know. I'm not here to complain.”

Eddie blinks at him. “You're not?”

Steve shakes his head, averting his eyes and running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. Boyish. Bashful. Unbearably pretty.

“No, man. If anything, I think I should thank you. Things with Nancy have been going great.”

“But that can't be-” Eddie squawks. Bites his tongue. Clears his throat. “I mean … they have?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah! She's really been coming around. I think this thing might actually be working.”

Eddie watches him twirl the small pouch between his fingers and needs to use all of his willpower to stop himself from blurting out the truth. That it can't be working. There's no way on earth it can be working.

Because Eddie’s a fraud. Because Eddie’s magic has been so watered down through the generations, is so thinned out and weak, he couldn't cast a functional spell if his life depended on it.

Also probably because the lock of hair in Steve’s charm isn't Nancy's, but Eddie’s. But he can't very well tell him that, can he? Not when Steve is standing in front of him with that big smile and that pretty pink blush on his face, looking so hopeful and in love it makes Eddie’s chest pull uncomfortably.

“-and she said she might be there, so I was wondering if maybe you could … I dunno, do a little extra?”

“I, um-” Eddie snaps back to the present, trying and failing to reconnect Steve's string of monologue to their previous conversation. “Sorry, what?”

Steve shakes his head at him, but his smile is kind.

“Heidi's birthday party next weekend? Nance said she might come, and I think that, if I play my cards right, I might …” He trails off and licks his lips, a thin sheen of moisture on pink skin. When his eyes meet Eddie’s again, they're hesitant. “I was hoping that, maybe, you'd know a way to increase my chances a little? Some sort of spell or whatever? I'd pay you, of course.”

Eddie knows he should turn him down. Make up some excuse, tell him he's busy. Better yet, tell him the truth. How there's no spell in the world that'll do what Steve is hoping to accomplish. How messing with people's emotions always comes back to kick you in the ass.

“Sure,” he says. “Swing my place tonight, I'll see what I can do.”

“Really?” Steve beams at him, bright like the sun. “Brilliant, thank you so much! Anything I should bring?”

“Just your fine self and the money,” Eddie says, pocketing the container with his berries and turning to go. “Oh, and I hope you're okay with dancing naked under the full moon?”

He really, really should stop this charade, sooner rather than later. It's hard, though, when Steve flushes and sputters like he does.

Maybe he'll keep it up just a little longer.

More holiday drabbles

[skhv67]

prisoner/patient!nam-gyu x therapist!reader

word count: 2.170

trigger warnings: partially non-con, it gets a bit steamy but not smut really, blood, murder, reader is gender neutral but has a coochie, nam-gyu is a bit manipulative, English ain't my first language

"Ten minutes and 59 seconds."

The sharp piece of metal he had hidden under his bed was now on his hands slightly piercing through the pale skin of his hands while he was lost in his thoughts. Fixing his gaze on a blank spot on the wall, he let his mind wander freely over the possible things he could do after this evening. He could probably go to his plug to get himself a treat for all the time he had endured in this facility, or maybe go to the club to see some familiar faces.

"Six minutes and thirty seconds..."

The adrenaline started to spread through his limbs and the excitement made it hard for him to stay still but he tried his hardest to keep himself composed to not draw any attention while the day was so silent.

While he knew that he probably should be thinking about a strategy or going over the plan again to avoid mistakes, his excitement wouldn't let his mind focus. As he kept picturing what to do after everything was over, images of you plagued his mind suddenly. How could I forget that? A little smirk peeked through his lips as he tapped his foot on the floor in an awful attempt to contain the sudden rush of excitement he felt.

"Three minutes."

Nam-gyu stared at the self inflicted wound —though not intentionally— expressionless. He breathed in and out slowly to calm his nerves as he put the handmade blade up his sleeve, which covered his whole hand anyway. He didn't even have the time right now to reminiscence how hard and painfully long the process of getting a sharp object in a place specifically made to avoid this at all costs was.

He forced himself to go over the plan during the last minute he had before the disaster began. It was simple, he didn't have a big role during the riot, he left that to the ones that had orchestrated all of this, he'd just take the sweet part of the consequences, that being having an opportunity to escape or at least killing a person or two. Worst outcome would be extending his sentence and reinforcing his therapy which meant more time with you, and he couldn't complain about that. He imagined that at this time of the day you'd be listening to one of the plenty of weirdos this place has to offer, but with a pretty smile adoring your face while you carefully helped them with the most gentle and sweet tone he has ever heard. The little smile that has crept up his face leaving immediately as he felt a sting of jealousy at the thought of you helping these people, — at the thought of him just being like the rest in your eyes.

He had to shake his head to bring himself down to earth again, he kept getting distracted. He just had to wait for the signal after the recreational activities end and immobilize —or kill— the guards during the distraction. It'd be easy as the place was understaffed and some of the prisoners had smuggled in some guns... Besides about two guards were paid to turn a blind eye to what was going to happen.

The sound of the rusty door being opened brought him back to his senses and he got up immediately to follow the guard to the room where his lessons would begin in a few minutes. On the way he couldn't help glancing at the door with your name in a little plaque, your charge on the bottom of it. His jaw clenched when he heard your voice talking sweetly to an inmate through the silence of the hallway. Stop, stop, stop...

I'm special to them.

The lesson went painfully slow and he counted down the time for it to be over every five minutes, his mind wandering every time he tried to focus on the time. He was so eager to use the makeshift knife he kept caressing under his sleeve, to get out of here and finally sleep on a real bed, to get the pills he missed so much, to pay you a visit in the middle of the chaos...

"If nobody has any questions, the class is over."

As the guards guided them to the hall, some screams alerted them. A fight between a few inmates broke out, and a few men were trying to separate them. Nam-gyu looked around, nervous eyes trying to connect with anyone that could confirm to him that this was the signal they needed, but everybody was focused on the fight.

He quickly noticed that the fight was getting a little too big to handle for the few poor guards that were there. As one of them was about to call reinforcement, a dark red spot appeared on his chest, probably inflicted by a makeshift knife like the one in his hand.

As Nam-gyu saw this, he didn't waste time burying his own weapon on the neck of one of the guards that was escorting his group. The rest of the inmates followed his lead and shortly after, the mess of bodies and noise induced him in a euphoric state ha hadn't been in a while.

He helped for a bit to take out some guards for the sake of it until he was stopped by the hand of another inmate.

"We need hostages."

Nam-gyu stopped in his tracks, remembering that all of this was part of a bigger plan of some of the leaders of the prison to bargain about the denial of resources and some medical negligence, though he didn't doubt that a few people would use the riot to escape. Like him.

He left the scene as quick as possible, he knew for certain where he had to go first. He sped up his pace to your office and opened the door carefully. The silence of the room contrasted with the loud sound of the mess outside, but he was sure he could hear a faint breathing inside. He closed the door making sure to lock it behind him and looked around with his weapon visibly on his hand. He walked slowly to the desk where he heard the breathes become more rapid and anxious.

He called you by your name, without missing the title, as to show respect even in a situation like this. A little sob escaped your mouth and now he exhaled of relief as he peeked through the desk to look at you. He thought you looked strangely cute with your cheeks wet and sweat all over every bit of skin visible on your outfit. He couldn't think of any other person he'd swoon over looking like that.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Your trembling hand tried to reach the pocket of your cardigan, which didn't go unnoticed by him. With a frown he used his force to take you off the floor and bring you to your feet in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

No coherent response came out of your lips but begs and prayers.

"I'm so sorry, please don't hurt me."

He was undoubtedly getting annoyed by your reaction, not expecting you to be so apprehensive of him.

"Why would I?" Nam-gyu grabbed your wrist with a little too much force than he probably should. "You think I'm like those out there?"

He pointed outside with disdain and venom, if not jealousy, covered his words. You looked at his weapon, which was as covered in blood as his clothes and skin. Bringing up a hand to his face you took some blood off his cheek, which made his breath hitch. You showed him your fingers now covered in blood too.

"You think I killed someone?" he asked with feigned disbelief. "I had to get some people off my back on the way here, there was no other way. Nothing serious though."

She seemed still doubtful of his words but she chose to believe him for her own good.

"I came here as soon as I could to make sure you were okay." The strong hold on your wrist became a soft caress of your arm. He even dared to put his forehead against yours to soothe you.

"Thank you-" it came out as a whisper. "Nam-gyu."

His heart jumped at you addressing his name, feeling that the situation was finally under his control.

Choosing to ignore the mess outside for a while and give in to his impulses he pushed you gently against the desk, enough to force you to sit on it.

You gulped down nervously, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. Being on his good side was obviously the best decision here but you didn't know how much you could handle. You weren't expecting Nam-gyu to come here in this moment out of all people, but you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't notice the way he stared at you during his check ups and how he requested your assistance more than any other inmate. You should've stopped this months ago, but who knows who would've come to this office with different intentions if it wasn't him. Maybe you'd be dead.

"I need you to get me out of here." He muttered caressing your thighs through the thin material of your clothes. You cursed your decision of coming with a skirt and some thighs, but how could have you guessed this was going to happen.

"I don't know how"

He laughed briefly and brought your body roughly to his, forcing your legs open. Seriousness covered his face, making your heart race again.

"You have five minutes to think about it" he hovered over and whispered in your ear. "I'm sure you won't make me regret helping you."

Holding back the urge to cry you started to think how on earth you could help a prisoner break out of this facility. While this place is understaffed and away from the city, you're sure help will come any time soon. Right?

Your train of thought came to a halt as you felt his lips on your neck. You had to stop the moan that threatened to leave your lips at the suddenness of the action to remind yourself of the pathetic situation you're in right now. Intense guilt spreadt through your heart when you found yourself enjoying the way his hands were caressing your inner thighs making little circles while he placed soft kisses down your neck.

"Four" he whispered over a wet spot on your neck, giving you chills.

Convincing yourself that your reactions were outside your control, you focused on planning the exit again.

Maybe in the trunk of my car?

His blood stained hand touched your skin under your cardigan and you whined, getting a little laugh out of him.

If the cops aren't outside yet I can get him in my car...

"Are all the guards inside?" you managed to say with the most stable tone he allowed you to have.

He groaned against your skin. "How would I know, doc?"

You gritted your teeth and kept thinking. He kept counting down out loud whenever he wasn't torturing you tracing every bit of your skin.

"Fifty seconds."

Your eyes widened when you felt his fingertips against the most sensitive part of your body. You weren't able to focus at the task in hand no matter how much you tried anymore to distance yourself from the situation. He traced circles through the piece of clothes between you two and you had to fight with every fiber of your soul to not push your crotch against his hand.

"Thirty..."

You started to try to struggle out of his hold but he held you firmly. You didn't think he had it in him. You could only hold his wrist to push his hand away.

"You don't want this, pretty thing?" he whispered, poorly masking the eagerness of his voice. "I'm sure you do. I know you do."

His movements became faster and so did your breathing. You couldn't even hear the noise outside anymore, only his breathing and your own heart.

"I'm sure that pretty pussy feels so much better without all this." He pinched the thighs against your crotch, making you yelp. "That's why you have to get me out of here, pretty. Time's up."

He moved his hand away and you had to hold back a whimper at the loss. You felt a wave of shame and guilt that you had to repress due to the urgency of the situation you were in. You also felt the embarrassingly wet spot in your panties that you're sure he couldn't have noticed through the thighs.

"We can only try to get you out in my car, but I don't know how safe that is, I don't know how many guards are outside or if they'll check my trunk-"

He stopped your babbling with a little peck on your lips and a little smile.

"Let's see."

[muletia]

the way i knew which pic it was before it loaded from the hashtags and the caption, im not down bad i swear

oil up his old man joints yessir but imagine him doing little things for reader in return gjhagjhsguk he appreciates everything done for him and he's like "oh fuck no im guilty" and delibrately tries to return all those acts of affection

cue him kissing reader on the head at least 876545678 times before they get out of bed and leads to a morning fucking seassion

-baking anon

Spoken like true Ratchet simp baking anon, you ain't escaping the down bad allegations

Aughhh domestic Ratchet being soft to us, I'm growling. He definitely opens jars for you, reaches for things from the top shelf so you don't have to get on chairs and risk falling down, and picks up heavy boxes/furniture. If he gets to be a pillow princess in berth you know damn well, you are getting the princess treatment outside of it, even when he complains and grumbles about cranky joints and stiff digits

And I live love laugh the fact that I injected you with my horny domestic Ratty propaganda. He and his partner are the sweetest couple you can imagine, even if he's still a bit grumpy, still holding hands during walks and kissing each other whenever mood for smooches strikes but their freak is unmatched in bed. You could compliment how strong and helpful he is when he opens a jar for you and he immediately gets a boner hehe

[jhuste]

Very small thought about the TS demo update ! Beware it has spoilers (idk how to use tumblr help).

I really enjoyed the changes overall. They made it very crystal clear that there is something wrong in Leander's way of acting. I like the new characterization for a lot of reasons, most of them being already mentionned by many people. So i won't go into details with this because i have nothing to say except....

It is very hard to play an asexual character in the case you chose to pursue Leander. And i DO understand that the whole...red choice thing appeals to like, 99% of the fanbase and players so it's fine by me. But, i just wish there was an option for the MC to like ...not be into this as much as it was described ?? Or at least, toning it down and making the reaction that you want your MC to have as an option ?

As a person who might be very well into the ace spectrum, it made me cringe a tiny bit and my MC being 100% sex-repulsed, i spent the last lines screaming "No bitch you don't THINK THAT." "That ain't you lol" "lalala imma pretend it never happened".

But well, i do very much understand why they made the MC horny and i've seen everyone liking it so far so i understand that my complain may feel insignificant. At best, i will just ignore it and pretend it never happened. I will still hopefully be able to have a great experience with this game and Leander's route once it's released.

As long as the MC is described consenting the intercourse, it's alright and it's what truly matters.

That's all thank you for coming to my ted talk lmao