#I don’t know if I hit as much horror as I wanted but I sure did get to play with writing techniques

[clockwayswrites]

Dead on MAYn 25 Day 3:

Trope | Eldritch horror Danny/Monster Fucker Jason

Word | Contract

Situation | The Batfam learn about Jason's boyfriend by accident.

Dialogue | "You may belong to Gotham, but this one belongs to me."

cw: blood, demonic cult, off screen screen torture

The noise that Jason made when he hit the ground was worryingly wet. Wet with the sound of blood and wounds and tortured flesh. Tim kept Duke pushed behind him until the old steel door clanged shut and the latch had scraped into place with a rusty finality.

“Okay, okay, I think that maybe it’s past time to act,” Duke hissed as he rushed to Jason’s side.

Tim didn’t rush over, instead he searched Jason’s discard jacket for supplies. It wouldn’t be enough, not with how heavy the scent of blood was, but Tim knew that Jason always had some medical supplies on him. “We can’t.”

“We can’t?!” Duke asked.

“Timbo’s right,” Jason said. His voice was clear at least, though he needed Duke’s help to get sitting up. “Can’t expose things.”

“Dude, you’re insides are getting exposed! I think we’re past that!” Duke’s voice was laced with all the dangerous anger of the same kid that had led ‘we are Robin’.

Jason sighed. “Duke—”

“No, don’t Duke me! What about when they drag Tim out of here next? Will you stop it then?”

“Duke,” Tim snapped. He tossed the vacuum packed bag of bandages at Duke. “Enough. We pressed our signals, help is on the way.”

“You’re assuming the signal can get out of this pit they tossed us in!”

“Not a pit, old tunnel construction that got abandoned,” Jason said. “Trust the tech.”

Tim squinted at Jason, trying to figure out why he sounded off. Was it just blood loss? Had he been drugged? Or—oh, that was Jason’s voice for soothing victims. Right, Duke hadn’t been abducted like this before, not for being a Wayne. Maybe Tim should tone down the bite a little. Duke hadn’t grown up being taken for ransom like Tim had.

“It will work, Duke. They’re on their way. We’ve all been through worse,” Tim said. He pulled his knife from his boot and cut swiftly through what was left of Jason’s shirt. They could use it to wipe off the worst of the blood at least. “And right now they don’t seem interested in you.”

“I’m not worried about me, jackass,” Duke said. “They’re obviously racist fuckwits, of course they don’t want my blood. I’m worried about what they’re going to do to you! Or that they’re going to grab Jason again.”

“Hey, Duke, we can handle ourselves—”

“But you won’t!” Duke snapped, cutting Tim off. “That’s the problem, you won’t.”

“Hey, bleeding here, can we argue later?” Jason interrupted. His voice was sounding a little breathless, so Tim was inclined to set aside everything else.

Besides, patching up wounds was always a good distraction. It gave the mind time to work through facts and data without so much emotion in the way.

When Jason at least wouldn’t be bleeding out as quickly (all of their shirts sacrificed to the cause), Tim asked, “What has your so scared about this situation, Duke?”

Duke balled up the last of his t-shirt and tossed the bloody thing aside. He frowned seriously. “Y’all can’t see what I can see. There’s something actually magical or… or otherworldly going on here. I think that someone in this cult actually knows what they’re doing. That’s a different thing. Magic isn’t what we do.”

“‘snot what you do,” Jason slurred from where they had propped him up in the corner. “Well. I mean, you do do someth’n, what with the light stuff. Still only me and you.”

“What do you mean him and you?” Tim asked with a frown at Jason. Sure, it was maybe a little unfair to press Jason when he was obviously a little blood drained and unusually chatty, but chances like this didn’t come often

“You know, the…” Jason waved an arm around like he was holding something.

“No,” Tim drawled.

“The All-blades and the…” Jason froze. His eyes widened. “Oh fuck.”

“Jason?”

“They, um,” Jason collapsed back into the corner with a giggle. “See, they used m’ blood for a summoning circle.”

“Right.” Tim exchanged a look with Duke. “That’s pretty standard demonic cult bullshit.”

“Yeah. But,” Jason dropped his voice to a whisper as if he was telling a secret, “they dun know what my blood will get’em.”

“And, um, what will your blood get them?” Duke asked.

Jason giggled again. “Danny.”

“Right,” Tim drew the word out. “And who or what is Danny?”

Jason opened his mouth to answer but before he could a scream broke the silence. Jason’s smile turned vicious. “That is Danny.”

-

Jason was a big guy in way that Tim never would be and that Duke wasn’t (yet). It meant that making their way from the old machine room they had been locked in towards the commotion was slow going. Jason was obviously trying not to lean on them too much, but he didn’t really have much choice with how his leg was minced. And they certainly weren’t going to leave Jason behind.

They were, though, going to stay out of the way of whatever the fuck was currently decimating the cult.

Hands—what Tim could only describe as hands were reaching out from what was now a void of space in the floor of the center of the room. The white spindly limbs would grab a cultist, ignoring blades or bullets, and then drag them back and down into the void. Usually with a horrible scream.

“That’s a lot of eyes,” Duke whispered in awe from the other side of Jason, clearly seeing something that Tim couldn’t.

“The more to look at you with,” Jason joked, still acting a little giddy. Being upright didn’t seem to agree with him much.

“That’s… that’s Danny?” Tim asked.

There was something more moving in the void. The surface rippled and churned and then exploded out into a spray of light and colors like a supernova. The being—and if held at gun point Tim couldn’t actually explain was he was seeing—pulled themselves free of the void and with a few reaching grasps, across the floor to them.

“Jason,” they purred, the word a rumble that Tim could feel in his bones.

Of course, that’s when Batman, Robin, and Nightwing came crashing into the abandoned tunnel.

Before Tim could even blink, the being—Danny—had wrapped themselves around Jason like a giant snake. All the eyes that Tim hadn’t been able to see appeared. All glaring at the heroes.

“Let him go,” Batman ordered. “The cult had no right to offer him as sacrifice. The all belong here.”

The being curled themselves further around Jason and growled out, “You may belong to Gotham, but this one belongs to me.”

“Shush, Danny, no, hush. They’re family,” Jason slurred while trying to pat the being’s cheek and missing entirely. “No devouring the souls of family.”

The being indulgently moved their head so that Jason got what he wanted. “I would not devour them. They stink like Gotham, and the Lady would not abide it.”

“Be nice,” Jason said.

“Despite the blood loss B, er, Batman,” Tim started. “Jason really does seem to know this being.

“Danny,” the being cooed.

“Who’s name is Danny.”

There was a shriek behind them as another cultist was lifted from some boxes they had been hiding behind and into the void.

“We’re alone now. We can talk,” Danny said. “They’re your family?”

Jason hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to the sometimes bony face. It still wasn’t clear what Danny was. Tim tried not to look too hard.

“Brothers,” Jason waved loosely around the room and then pointed to Batman. “Dad.”

Danny sighed, the noise a weird sound like the hydraulics of a bus stopping. “You couldn’t have warned me this was a meet the family thing?”

Jason shrugged despite the eldtrich horror draped over him. “Didn’t ‘spect to be sacrificed. Didn’t think about how my blood might summon you.”

“Of course your blood summoned me. I wouldn’t let it summon anyone else,” Danny said, clearly offended as the voice took on an increasingly human note. The mass of whatever shifted and shrunk until a humanoid about Tim’s size hung, floating, off Jason’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to Jason’s lips. “Like I said, you belong to me. I’ll always come when called.”

“Holy—you’re dating Jason! You’re his, what, eldifriend?” Dick asked with a wide grin. “Guy’s, Jason is dating someone!”

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“My little bird is all grown up!” Dick cooed.

Jason flipped him off. “Dating or romance isn’t part of growing up. Way to insult aros, dickhead.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“Boys,” Bruce tried.

“So, Danny, Jason lost a pretty good chunk of blood,” Tim said, ignoring everyone else in the room. “We should really get him some medical care.”

“Shit, yeah, absolutely,” Danny said, deflating until their white shoes—since when did they have legs?—touched the ground. “Can I come? Technically Jason did summon me and so I’m around until I pay some sort of favor—”

Jason reset his chin on the top of Danny’s white hair with a salacious smirk. “I know a certain favor that you can—”

“Okay!” Tim said loudly and clapped his hands together. He did not need to know what his brother got up to with an eldritch horror. “Blood loss, remember? Deal with that later. You two can pile in the Batmobile with Robin and Duke. I’ll ride back with Nightwing.”

“Good plan, baby bird! And you’re totally staying for dinner, Danny,” Dick said. “We have so many questions.”

For a powerful cosmic horror, Danny looked pretty frightened by that prospect.

[halfpastsquid]

My lady - I demand you write a oneshot on yn being a pathetic mongrel like you that thrives on chaos, driving daddy Konig up a wall while he desperately tries to pry info about a mole in Kortac out of them….✨💅🏻which just ends with him traumatised because holding yn at gunpoint was sadly (for him) the equivalent of giving them a strip tease („ಡωಡ„) ( mans might as well have offered up his cock-)

I challenge thee - do it in the name of big boy Konig supremacy - CHAT - YOU KNOW HE GOT THAT HORSE IN HIM- I NEED THIS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND !!!!!😩😩😩

ghost wifey here has waited patiently for nearly three months, so perhaps it is time to feed my poor child >⩊< you have my heartfelt gratitude for helping me with the tags

ଳ Title: WAP (Weapons and Psychological Assault)

ଳ Pairing: König x GN!Reader

ଳ POV: Second Person

ଳ CW: Mild suggestiveness, weapon play

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖

They throw you into the chair like you’re dangerous.

Which, okay, fair. You are.

But not in the way they think.

You land with a dramatic “oomph,” arms bound behind you, legs shackled like you’re going to make a break for it in your socks and sarcasm. You barely get a second to stretch before you hear the door groan open like a horror movie cue.

Enter: Him.

König. Seven feet of gloved restraint, broad shoulders, unreadable eyes behind that damned hood. You could bounce a coin off that tactical chest plate and lose all memory of your sins.

He strides in like a god of war with bills to pay. Slams the folder down. Doesn’t sit. Doesn’t speak. Just looms.

You beam.

“Oh, finally. I was beginning to think you ghosted me. That’s two reschedules, König... any more and I’ll have to invoice you for emotional damage.”

He does not react. Not visibly. But you feel the quiet twitch in his aura. The breath he takes. The restraint radiating from every fibre of that bulletproof vest.

“We’re not here to play games,” he says.

That Austrian accent. That low voice. It’s the kind of sound you’d happily commit several war crimes for.

“Speak for yourself,” you purr. “I brought Monopoly and unresolved trauma.”

He drags the chair back with a grating screech, sits down across from you, and opens the file like it personally insulted him.

“Tell me who the mole in KorTac is.”

“Say please.”

He looks up. A pause. A blink.

You widen your eyes innocently. “I’m very motivated by manners.”

“I’m not here to—”

“You’re not here to what, König? Seduce me?”

A beat.

“… Because you’re doing a terrible job. I’m still very clothed.”

His jaw clenches. You can’t see it, but you know.

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Though if you’d like to change that—”

He stands. You whistle.

“No need to get so excited, sweetheart. I didn’t actually mean take your clothes off.” You sigh. “Not without music.”

The safety clicks off on his sidearm.

Your pupils dilate like a cat in a laser pointer factory. “Ooh. Now that’s what I call foreplay.”

And then.

He levels the barrel at your mouth. Not your forehead. Not your chest. 

No. Your mouth.

It’s a warning. A threat. A command to shut up.

Naturally, you part your lips. Obedient. Gleeful. Unholy.

“Oh?” you murmur, eyes sparkling. “You do want to play.”

He says nothing. You don’t need him to.

You lean forward slowly, deliberately... and take the muzzle between your lips. Eyes locked on his. There’s no fear in your gaze, only delight.

You moan around it. Soft. Indulgent. Like he’s handed you dessert instead of a firearm.

And then, you slide forward. Deeper. Until it hits the back of your throat and you gag on purpose. Loudly. Wet. Obnoxiously.

König jerks the gun back like it burned him. You pout.

“Too much?” you whisper hoarsely, licking your lips. “Sorry, I don’t really have a gag reflex when I’m into someone.”

He’s frozen. Shell-shocked. You can see the war happening behind that mask. Professionalism versus pure, undiluted panic.

You cock your head. “You sure you’re not the mole, König? Because you’re leaking intel all over the place.”

He stumbles back. You giggle. You’re not just in his head: you’ve bought property and started a bed and breakfast.

“You are insane,” he hisses.

“I told you I was fun.”

“You’re wasting my time.”

You lean closer. “And yet, you haven’t walked away.”

There’s a long silence. A terrible, beautiful silence.

You see it in the way he shifts his stance. Conflicted. Like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering whether to jump or push you off it.

“I could kill you right now.”

You tilt your head, all teeth and honey. “But you won’t. You think I don’t see it? The way your hands shake just a little when I smile at you? You came in here to interrogate me, König, and now you’re stuck wondering whether you’re supposed to choke me or propose.”

He takes a step back. Big mistake. He gave you space to stretch. To grin.

“I mean, look at us,” you coo. “This is practically enemies to lovers. Slow burn. Just needs a training montage and one of us tragically dying in the third act.”

“I’m leaving,” he mutters, almost to himself.

“Running away already? That’s a shame. I was going to tell you about the mole…”

He stops.

You lick your lips.

“…Right after we cuddled.”

The door slams behind him.

You whistle again. Loud. “I’ll be here if you change your mind, Daddy!”

There’s a thud outside the door. Probably his forehead hitting the wall.

You sigh dreamily and slouch back into your chair like it’s a chaise lounge.

They really shouldn’t have sent their strongest.

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

This server does things to people, things that can’t be undone.

Like weave parts of Mapicc into Zam. It meshed their bodies together until separation became a pipe dream, and Zam was fine with it. He was fine. It was nice to be close with Mapicc, to have someone fill the gaps he left open, a steady presence who could make up for the fact that Zam was Zam. Now he just has himself. Now he just has a knife.

devotions week day two: potions & death. COLLABORATION WITH THE WONDERFUL @noxious-amillion !!! GO CHECK THEIR ART OUT HERE

[fastandcarlos]

Pregnant Pranks : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: lewis loves to mess with you, but messing with a pregnant lady unleashes a whole new world of fury

Your eyes widened in horror as you walked into the kitchen, opening up the cupboard you scanned the shelf, unable to find the jar of gherkins that you had placed that earlier in the day after your shop. 

“Lewis!” You shouted through the house, watching him walk through with a mischievous smile etched upon his face. “Where are they?” You asked, knowing this had his name all over it. 

It had been a bit of a thrill for Lewis to keep you on your toes during your pregnancy, he loved winding you up and testing how far he could push you with all your hormones. Most days you ended up being on the end of some sort of prank whilst Lewis tried his best to keep you positive. 

If you asked Lewis, the worst thing about your pregnancy was your cravings. The smells that travelled through your house were disgusting to say the least, with Lewis often walking around having to pinch his nose. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you warned, placing your hand over the top of your bump. “I know you don’t like them, but getting rid of them isn’t the way to go about this.” 

Lewis’ head nodded as you noticed him looking above your head and into the cupboard. He could feel you staring across at him, tapping your foot on the floor as you impatiently waited for some sort of answer from him.  

Whilst you stood in annoyance, Lewis couldn’t help but smile, watching as you glanced completely unaware of just how close what you wanted was actually to you. 

“What are you looking for?” Lewis questioned, closing the distance between the two of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“You know what I’m looking for,” you frowned, hitting your hand against his chest. “Do you get some sort of sick kick out of tormenting pregnant people?” 

The more Lewis smiled down at you, the more irritated you became. You didn’t ask for much, all you wanted was for him to tolerate the one thing that you needed to satisfy your cravings. 

“One day I’m going to get you back for all of this, you better sleep with one eye open,” you challenged, only to be greeted by even more laughter from Lewis. 

He leant forwards and pressed a kiss to your stomach, moving his hands to rest against your bump. “The baby doesn’t feel as if they want any of that stinky food right now.” 

“I’m telling you they want it,” you bluntly responded, patience running thin. “So, before I go and smash one of your cars up, can you tell me where they are please?” 

“Do you really think I believe you’d do such a thing?” 

You tried your best to keep your gaze looking serious, but Lewis knew you so well knowing that you would never even dream of doing such a thing, especially when you loved his car so much too. 

“Stop smiling, this isn’t funny,” you groaned, turning around to look again. 

“It is a tad,” Lewis smiled as you went up onto your tiptoes, trying to get a better look in the cupboard. 

You followed Lewis’ eyes once more, catching the shine of the gherkin jar hanging off the very top shelf. Your eyes went wide as you stretched up as tall as you possibly could, trying your best to swat the jar off of the shelf. Each time you failed, groaning when you placed your feet back down again. 

“You’ve had your laugh; now can you get them please?” You politely asked Lewis, “I cannot even begin to tell you how badly I’m craving these. I’ll even go and eat them in the garden Lewis.” 

“Why do you even crave them? They’re disgusting,” he frowned, shaking his head across at you but still keeping stuck to his spot, watching you closely. 

As he smiled with delight you decided to change your tactics, knowing you could play his game too. You grabbed one of the dining chairs and lined it up with the front of the cupboard, making sure that it aligned perfectly with the small sighting of the jar you had. 

“I guess I’ll just get it myself then,” you told yourself, placing one hand on the chair and one on the counter. 

Lewis continued to watch you without much of a care, but as you went to lift your foot up and place it on the chair to push yourself up, Lewis grabbed a hold of your hips and placed you on the other side of the room. 

“I’ve got it,” he quickly told you, reaching up with ease and taking the jar from the shelf, handing it across to you. “Were you really going to stand on a chair to get that down?” 

Your shoulders shrugged back at him, “I wasn’t messing when I told you how bad I was craving them. I’d go to some pretty extreme lengths when it comes to pregnancy cravings love.” 

“You can’t be doing things like that to me babe.” 

You unscrewed the lid and grabbed a fork from the cutlery drawer, quickly beginning to tuck in. Lewis’ face squirmed as he watched you start eating, unable to stop himself from judging you. Your face lit up at the delicious taste, sniggering at the look of disgust that Lewis wore instead. 

“I guess we can both play that game,” Lewis smiled as he grabbed a chair and placed it next to you for you to sit down. “Maybe it’s about time that I let you relax a little bit more whilst your pregnant.” 

“Did I scare you then?” 

“Of course,” he laughed, as if it were obvious. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you climbed up onto that chair and something happened, all because I wanted to try and play a stupid prank on you.” 

You were only half listening as you continued to munch on the gherkins, extending the jar to Lewis, offering one, only for his head to shake, swatting you away. 

“You’ve had some pretty good pranks over the past few months, I’ll give you that one,” you told him, “but if there’s one kind of person that you definitely don’t mess with, it’s a pregnant lady.” 

“I’ve learnt that the hard way,” Lewis smiled, taking a seat opposite you. “I don’t think my heart has quite calmed down yet from the fear of thinking that you’d go up there.” 

You couldn’t help but smile knowing that you’d given Lewis a little taste of his own medicine, for all the games he tried to play with you, there was only one number one mastermind in your relationship, and that was you. 

He had plenty in the bank after spending years winding his family up, but soon he would have a new target for all his pranks, looking forward to joking with your baby. He couldn’t wait to mess with them, embarrass them and be as annoying as possible, just like how he was with you. 

“I thought you said you were going to eat those in the garden anyway,” Lewis smiled, feeling your eyes narrow in on him, shooting a glare. 

“If anyone should be out in the garden, it’s you,” you challenged, “I’m going nowhere now that I’ve finally got my hands on these.” 

“You’re going to make me suffer that smell, aren’t you?” 

“Absolutely, and I’m going to love doing it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[barbiiecams]

the “first” time

drew starkey x younger!reader, smut, haven’t wrote ina minute yall sorry 😣. i also recommend listening to the song while reading.

you were cuddled up into the side of drew while he had his arm around you, keeping you close to him as you watched the third horror movie tonight.

but little did he know, you were practically soaked down there.

it took a lot of self restraint in you not to squirm around, but you were almost about to start.

the view of him with his blank tank top, grey sweats, a little stubble, a buzzed head and that damn gold chain had you pressing your thighs together for dear life.

it was such a random moment for you to be feeling like this too. he always looked good, that was for sure. him in general had that type of affect on you.

but right now had to have been your peak ovulation or something, because you needed him bad.

you started off with a simple and subtle movement by moving your hand from where it laid on his chest, and slowly down to the top of his abs.

no reaction.

after this, you had to come off a little more bold. you repositioned yourself, pushing your face more upwards into his neck so that plush of your butt would be more into his hand instead of the bottom of your spine.

and still, no reaction.

the only type of movement that came from him was him licking his lips. this did not help your case in the slightest.

it was just throbbing at this point. you wanted him to give it to you so bad, knowing he’d still be a little hesitant.

you and drew had been together for 8 months now, and there were still no real intercourse going on.

of course, drew didn’t mind using his fingers on you, and you didn’t mind using your mouth on him.

but you wanted, no, needed the real thing.

it’s not like you were a virgin either. you’ve had some experience before him.

and still with this knowledge, drew still was convinced you weren’t ready for him.

your core was ready for him at this point, “drew,” you finally spoke up.

“hm” he said in that low, raspy tone of his. *reason number 300 why you needed to be dicked down this instant*

in reality tho, you really did wish he would just take a hint. actually having to say what you wanted was just too… confrontational.

“i’m really like…” you didn’t make eye contact with his eyes. you were trying not to make yourself laugh at how embarrassing it was to actually tell him at the same time.

drew on the other hand was just waiting for you to finish your sentence, confused as ever.

“really what?”

you sighed. “i really, really, really, really need you. like really”

the words were finally out, but not direct. that was the most he was gonna get from you.

the realization hit him and he let out chuckle, “okay.” was all he said before he started kissing you.

but you knew what he was gonna do, and that wasn’t just all that you wanted.

you pulled away gently, “no like i actually need you. i don’t want just the fingers.”

he raised his eyebrows at this, the actual realization hitting him this time.

“a- are you sure baby?” he asked with genuine concern.

“i’m positive. i’ve been wanting it for so long.”

he’s rubbing your thigh with his hand. “i don’t know sweetheart… are you positive you want it?”

you almost started whining. “yess, drew. i’m so very serious.”

you could see that drew was very hesitant just thinking about it, but then also at the same time considering it.

“just so you know, don’t think that we have to do all of that to be together. i love you for you-”

as much as you loved your man right back, you were getting a little fed up. “yes i know babe but i really need to feel you right now.”

he smirked at your bold statement. for the first time in 8 whole months of the relationship, drew finally caved in.

“alright. don’t wanna hear it’s ‘too much’ either.”

you didn’t get the chance to respond because his lips were already on yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head.

this is what you’ve been waiting for so desperately. that rough side of his.

he’s laying you down completely on your back, focused on getting your pajama pants and panties off at once.

at the same time, you’re trying to get his shirt off. you were so ready to just take all of him.

you fumbled with his own sweats and boxers while he fumbled with your shirt, eventually resulting in the both of you being completely exposed to each other.

he runs his hands down your body, “shit.”

you felt him getting harder and harder on your leg. you could tell he was starting to feel that throbbing sensation himself when he guided your hand onto his cock and made you run him.

and while you were doing that, his hand moved to your own folds and started rubbing too. you couldn’t help the gasps that came out either.

his mouth moved down to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickies that would be pointless even attempting to cover the next day.

deciding to tease him a little, you started rubbing the tip of his cock, leaving him with his mouth slack and letting out breaths right by your ear.

“you ready for this dick, baby?” he says while moving his hard on from the palm of your hand, to rubbing at your entrance.

“mhm!” you moan out.

that’s all he needed. he clearly was just as needy all this time as you were. not too much foreplay and no multiple asks of confirmation. he just slid right in and bottomed out too.

his face scrunched in pleasure, “so tight baby. so fuckin tight.”

and he was so big. you weren’t unfamiliar with his girthy and lengthy cock, but the feeling of it actually inside you was foreign. you almost didn’t know if you could actually take it.

almost. you definitely were not stopping him from ruining your insides.

as the respectful king drew is, he waited for you to give him the “okay” to start moving. all you had to do was nod, and he started with a medium pace.

the moans that were already coming out of you were loud. it was so nice, especially on a night like this to be making love to drew.

he wasn’t silent either. you felt perfect around him. he had to let it be known too with the groans that came from him.

“you feel so good baby, so damn good.” he throws his head back.

“more…” you say, a little breathlessly too.

drew doesn’t even question it. he started hitting it harder and a little faster too.

“anything you want, love. this pussy was made for me baby. all for me.”

you wanted to respond and agree, but before you could, drew let a ball of spit out of his mouth and down to where the two of you connected. you were already very wet, and he already had a lot of precum going on.

and now the sound that was traveling throughout the house? straight pornographic.

“you hear that? you hear that pussy baby?” he says, lips back down onto yours.

but you could barely answer. he was going even faster and harder now, leaving you speechless with just your mouth open and small gasps coming from you.

but his hands move to your neck, “i asked you a question.”

your hands laid on top of his wrists, “yes papa.”

he let out an approving nod at your response. “good girl.”

drew moves his hands from around your neck, and he now has your knees pushed into your chest, with his hands firmly planted on the back of your thighs.

and because of this new position, he’s inside you so deep, and hitting that right spot which makes you scream out.

he smiles at the loud reaction. “is that it, baby? right there?”

“yea!” you whined back as a response.

he lets out a chuckle, and then feels you clench around him which knock him back down even further into the pleasure.

“yea baby, fuck. keep doing that.” he groans.

you weren’t just doing it to do it, tho. you were seconds away from cumming all over him.

“m’gonna cum…” you said, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“yea? go ahead baby. wanna feel it. cum all over this fat cock.”

a few more thrusts later, he got his request. you were cumming for so long on him, and he just kept fucking you through it. fucking you more harder than previously, actually.

he was getting so lost into it, so focused on getting his own release to. and with the faces and noises he’s started to make, you could tell he was almost there too.

“want your cum.” you said to him.

he moved is hands from your thighs and up to your hips, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and trap him into you.

“don’t play with me.” he warns.

“m’not! need to feel you cum inside me. i don’t care what happens.” you babbled. you definitely cared what would happen, but in the moment nothing else mattered.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, baby. y’know that?”

“i know. i wanna feel you fill me up so bad… make you a daddy.” you spur him on even further, knowing the affect it would have on him.

the grip he had on your hips got insanely tight. it kind of hurt in a way, but you didn’t care knowing that he was about to nut inside of you at any moment.

and just as you clenched around him like you did earlier, you felt him smash his hips into yours, this time keeping them connected together.

he came buckets into you. his hot, long ropes of sperm had you feeling full like it was nobodies business.

and he really needed to take a minute to collect himself. the both of you were gasping for air, him still inside you for a good minute after.

when he pulled out, you felt like jelly and so did drew. he laid back down himself, pulling your body into his.

“i’ve been waiting for that.” he spoke.

there was apart of you that kind of didn’t believe that. “you kept saying i wasn’t ready.” you chuckled.

“i know, bad mistake. i almost proposed to you halfway through.”

you laugh at him and snuggle up more into him.

he playfully taps your stomach. "we're gonna have to get you on birth control baby." he says, referring to the comment about giving him a baby earlier.

"i know." you giggle. "i kinda like the excitement tho i dont know."

he shakes his head, half jokingly and half serious. "these youngins"

you slap his chest and roll your eyes, "oh shut up unc." this makes him let out a laugh too.

the movie that was playing in the background was long over, and you both still had yet to realize netflix was asking if you guys were still watching.

[twistedpink]

Hiya hiya it's me again! (And I hope you are having a good night/day) So where I was left off, house wardens taking care of your back because they left so many scratches after a spicy night 😳 but also maybe with different reactions and how they noticed the scratches??? I can't think of any scenarios 😭 but I would love to hear your opinion 👍

TYTY IM FREED

I just KNOW Riddle is an A+ scratcher. NOTHING is off limits. Your only saving grace is with how groomed his nails are, you’re practically mark free! Goes bright red and sighs a lot (GUILTY 🫵🤯) when the time comes to apply antiseptic, but is overall v thorough and gentle, 7/10. Usually notices if you sleep naked or he’s fixing your collar/hair!

Leona is the second worst, and not because he needs a lot of grounding, but his nails are LONG LONG for no reason,, God your poor legs,, 5/10. Prone to scraping you up during play fights, but isn’t very guilty about it unless you express a fear of infection or scarring.. Lowkey blames YOU for not cutting his nails, but only because he doesn’t want to hurt his pookie <3 (laughs at you for having thin skin. Secretly wants you to get him back x10.)

Refuses to have long nails. Being very much a “real men only have clear coats” guy, Azul doesn’t scratch, but it’s the hitting that’s bad,, He can’t help it, but that doesn’t make it BETTER!! No matter how gentle he goes about it, the little pinches and punches against your skin’ll bruise eventually, but he’s always open to massages! 6/10. V pathetic and cute about it. (Please don’t eat him)

VERY SWEET! VERY DEMURE! Kalim only scratches on purpose!! With all the oils and creams you’re slathered with it’s a challenge to get any real grip, but sometimes you’ve gotta scratch that mental itch with a physical one,, Straight up LATCHES so it’s just crescent moon after moon on your biceps and back, but he makes a point to kiss and soothe every. Single. One. So you can’t stay toooooo mad :D,, 9/10!!

Vil cares too much about the both of you to “mark you up” in that way- Of course he has moments of weakness where your hair and neck pay the price, but cat scratches just aren’t in the cards for you,, You KNOW that’ll mess up his manicure, and do you want to spend an hour getting patched up?? Okay maybe you do,, But that’s besides the point! He has things to do that don’t involve cleaning sweat and grossness from under his nails. 5/10 for cleanliness. Might as well bang in a hospital bed. There’s no advanced sloothing for how he finds them, just that your nightly back scratch turns into a horror movie pretty quick,,

One accurate word describes Idia and his gamer nails. Grooooooooooooooosssssssssssssssssss,, The ONLY way to trim them is to hold him down like a dog getting clipped, and even then he’s still whining about how they’ll break on their own time- He knows they’ll get all snaggy, but doesn’t he look cool? (Don’t encourage his delusion) Very much cultivating claws rather than human nails, but is emotionally attached to your mangled back. 4/10. Doesn’t have to “discover” them, knows EXACTLY what he’s doing.

The one true exfoliater to trump them all,, Malleus may not have experience or sex appeal on his side, but he has HOOKS in you, and that’s a sure way to keep you loyal!! He gasps like a murder witness whenever you get naked because “my word however could this happen??” while crying a little and trying to stop his lip from quivering :( Basically wraps you in bubble wrap and puts himself in a chastity belt, but not before having the worst phone call of your life and getting his dad to patch you up!! Lilia KNOWS what you’ve been up to and couldn’t be prouder! Just learn how to use a nail file for next time, alright? 8/10!! <3

@bju3c0re @kyokills

[counterblows]

📄 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐕𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wedding night, smut, minors DNI 🔞

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Whatever keeps the nation fed 🤷🏻‍♀️

Confrontations were never your strongest suit. You weren’t always good at saying what was on your mind— too afraid of facing the reactions, especially if they were bad.

But sometimes, there were moments when you couldn’t leave the words unsaid. You could only bottle up your feelings for so long before they started to burn a hole inside you.

Tonight, a sudden rush bloomed in your chest— warm and overwhelming. You knew if you didn’t say it now, while your confidence was at its peak, it would eat you alive.

You took a deep breath, mustering up the courage. The timing was perfect.

“I think I have a crush on you,” you blurted out, voice small and wavering, like you weren’t even sure you meant to say it out loud. “Please don’t freak out.”

Miguel froze.

Mid-thrust. Inside you.

You felt his whole body stiffen like a statue. His face pulled away from your neck, and he stared down at you.

The soft, dim lights caught his sweat-damped strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. His body was taut, muscles still flexing from his.… vigorous cardio session.

His expression was a perfect mix of absolute confusion and mild horror.

(ಠ_ಠ)

You bit the inside of your cheek hard, trying not to break into giggles at how comically serious he looked.

There was a long beat of silence where you could almost see the gears grinding inside his head.

“Amor…” he rasped slowly, chest heaving as he leaned down closer to you. “We’re married. It’s our wedding night.”

You blinked up at him, still very flushed under the weight of his stare. “I know,” you mumbled, lips wobbling into a sheepish smile. “But, it hit me…I really like you.”

It was only a few hours ago, you walked down the aisle toward him. A few hours ago, he had carried out of the building bridal-style, beaming like you were the only thing in the universe.

The magic from the ceremony— the giddy excitement, the dizzy happiness. It still lingered and buzzed in your veins. Your heart was still soaring.

And now the only thing buzzing was your skin under his touch. The air still crackled with intensity. The sudden, hilarious realisation that you had a giant crush on your own husband.

Miguel’s gaze stayed locked on yours for one more, long, painful second before he spoke.

“I’m inside you right now. How much more committed do you want me to be?” he grumbled, voice rough with disbelief.

To emphasise his point, he shifted his hips just slightly. Pushing himself deeper. You gasped softly, feeling the delicious stretch as your walls fluttered around him.

“Are you gonna say it back?” you mumbled meekly, looking back at him expectantly.

He let out an exhausted, wrecked laugh. Then he kissed you— messy and desperate. His lips warm and hungry against yours. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours as he said lowly:

“You ridiculous woman. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I took you out for a rooftop dinner.”

“Really?” you whispered, still a little dazed.

“Yes,” he growled, his voice low and incredulous as if the question offended him. “Really. After everything we’ve been through— the rings, the vows, signing the damn marriage certificate. Now you realise you like me?”

He dipped his head to your shoulder again, muttering something that you couldn’t quite catch. But you were pretty sure you heard Señor, dame paciencia, buried in there.

Lips hot against your neck. Breath ragged with need. His weight was slowly pressing you deeper into the mattress, his body enveloping yours.

You laughed at his grumbling— before they were swiftly cut off by a sharp gasp when he snapped his hips forward, seating himself fully inside you.

“Miguel!” you shrieked, nails digging into his broad back.

“And you—” he muttered darkly, puncturing each word with a slow, devastating thrust, “are not— allowed— to drop— adorable confessions— while I’m— trying to concentrate.”

The bed creaked beneath you, every deliberate roll from his hips making you more breathless, more delirious.

It was always entertaining winding your newly wedded husband when he’s already wrecked and desperate. And judging by the way he was losing his mind, you could already tell you were definitely going to be doing this a lot more throughout your marriage.

“Ah— sorry, sorry,” you gasped between each hip thrust. “I’ll save it for pillow talk.”

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

He chuckled lowly against your skin— a rough breathless sound that made you shiver.

“Good,” he rumbled. “Because when I’m done with you, you’re not gonna have the brain cells left to form a sentence.”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Satoru Gojo

Summary: Satoru struggles with his two babies.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*I used the two babies from baby steps for this, but you don't have to read to enjoy the fluffy oneshot🥹

“C’mon, Seiji. Vegetables are so good. yummy.” Satoru is trying to bribe his almost-two-year-old into eating the rest of his food, alas, he doesn’t sound too convincing. He tasted the vegetables, they aren’t too good but you cooked them so he isn’t going to bash them. Seiji really doesn’t care about not hurting anybody’s feelings at this stage of his life, so even though his dearest mother made them, he refuses to eat them.

Satoru sighs defeatedly, putting the fork down. He guesses Seiji doesn’t have to eat vegetables every day to grow strong. He picks Seiji up from the high chair, putting him down on the ground to allow him to walk around and do whatever he likes to do. Lately Seiji loves to play with any piece of trash he finds, making Satoru realize that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on toys.

“Don’t be too loud! Don’t wake your sister up.” Satoru yells, knowing that Seiji really doesn’t care about that. The baby only has one thought in his mind and that’s to play with whatever he gets his hands on. 

Satoru really thought that handling two babies under two would be a breeze, he’s the strongest, he can accomplish just about anything… But his two kids tire him out. Saori cries so much that he anticipates in horror the moment that she wakes up. Seiji never stops moving, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stand still for a moment. He loves his babies more than anything, but he’s rightfully tired.

Satoru is being the best husband that he can be by taking care of his babies while you study and finish up your degree. But two tiny humans are slowly ending his life. Satoru follows Seiji around, deciding to just let him wander around the house because Seiji hates to be put in his playpen lately.

“Dada.” Seiji points up when he gets to the stairs, looking back at his father. Satoru shakes his head, picking up Seiji and taking him back to the living room so he can find something there that he can engross himself with. Seiji makes sure to let out a dramatic cry because he hates being carried and contradicted. He doesn’t want to go to the living room, he wants to go upstairs.

“Crying isn’t going to do anything, baby. You’re staying down here.” Satoru says as he carries Seiji away. Seiji makes sure to yell,

“Down! Down!” Which actually works on Satoru today because he doesn’t want Seiji to wake up the sleeping baby. When his tiny feet hit the ground, Seiji begins to run around which isn’t really an issue for Satoru since he only has to take two steps to catch up to Seiji.

It’s boring, really, but he prefers walking after his toddler better than trying to entertain both babies while they’re awake. Seiji doesn’t care for his parents' attention until Saori is awake; when she’s awake he wants to become the center of attention.

Satoru really thinks he’s safe, until he hears her cries from upstairs, and the loudest sigh leaves his lips. He picks Seiji up, making him kick his feet and cry, demanding that he’s put down. Luckily for him, his father listens to his wishes and puts him down. Unluckily for him, he’s put down in the playpen that lately feels like a prison. 

“No! Out!” Seiji demands, but Satoru doesn’t listen. He leaves Seiji there while he goes upstairs to pick up Saori from her crib.

When he gets there, he notices his baby girl is sitting up, waiting for him to finally pick her up. He coos, approaching the crib and picking her up, “Hi my sunshine. Did you sleep well?”

She doesn’t stop crying so easily though. He changes her diaper, and the crying gets worse. He tickles her tummy, laughing to himself, “Aren’t you a hungry girl? You ate one hour ago too.”

He guesses he can’t blame her, a bottle of milk wouldn’t be enough to hold him over either… But he guesses he’s four times her size and two decades older than her. He exits the room, getting more irritated by the second with the crying baby that’s in his arms. 

He begins to walk down the stairs, and that’s when he sees a little rascal holding to the railing and trying to walk upstairs. His eyes widen, his first thought being: how the hell did Seiji escape his playpen? Seiji finally looks up, seeing his father at the top of the stairs. He lets go of the railing, his hands going over his tiny mouth, his signature move for when he gets caught.

Satoru watches it happen in slow motion. Seiji’s tiny feet on the edge of the stair, he tips over and falls back from the stairs until he’s back on the first floor again. At least Seiji was only on the third stair up so it wasn’t a long fall– However, he cries his heart out as if he was at the very top.

“Seiji, how the hell did you even get out of the playpen?” Satoru is reasonably angry because he has two crying kids to soothe on his own. He doesn’t want to bother you while you study so it’s his problem, and only his. He doesn’t know which problem to tend to first. 

Satoru just knows one thing, and he hates thinking about it, but he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if he had used a condom.

[sunday-bug]

Their Little Spitfire

Pairing: Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Bucky Barnes x female Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Content: suggestive behavior, will update as needed

A/N: This doesn't follow a particular timeline. Just for shits, giggles, and self-indulgence.

Synopsis: Steve & Bucky take an interest in the new girl. And she's full of surprises.

Part one | Part two | Part three in progress

“Someone looks like a little slut today,” Bucky says under his breath as he refills his coffee mug.

You scoff, feigning offense, clutching your hand to your chest in mock horror.

He takes a sip from the steaming cup with a smirk. Steve walks into the kitchen at that moment and eyes you curiously. “What’s the occasion? Trying to seduce a warlord?” 

“This old thing?” You tease, gesturing to your ivory silk negligee. “I sleep in this all the time. You two have just never paid attention.”

“Well, we’re paying attention now,” Bucky jokes darkly, looking at Steve with a laugh. Steve chuckles back, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. You open the fridge and purposely bend over further than necessary to reach the milk. Steve inhales sharply at the sight of you without underwear while Bucky swallows too much coffee. 

“You boys okay?” You ask with a smirk, knowing they just got an eyeful.

“We’re fine. Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Bucky says stoically.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re both, like, old men,” you say with a look of disgust, adding milk to your coffee.

Steve speaks up first, “Physically, we’re in our prime. Technically, yes, we are older, but…”

“Dirty. Old. Men,” you repeat, sipping your coffee with a raised brow.

Bucky puts his mug in the sink, “Seems like you wanted us to see, honey…”

You glance down at Bucky’s grey sweats, “And it seems like you enjoyed looking.” You wink at them both and saunter off toward your room, looking forward to a hot shower. You hear them both talking in the kitchen as you retreat, but can’t make out what they’re saying.

After your shower, you get dressed in your workout gear and head downstairs to the gym. It’s Tuesday - hand-to-hand combat day. You are still getting used to the schedule and team dynamics here in the tower being the newbie, but you feel confident and strong as you walk into the gym. The bulletin board to the right has fresh combat assignments pinned to it. You’re assigned to Wanda… and Bucky. Ugh.

Steve and Bucky step into the ring first and you watch as they go toe-to-toe. Sweat drips down Steve’s temple and Bucky smiles as he lands a punch to Steve’s ribs. Steve grunts and hits him back in the side. After a while, Steve is declared the winner by a small margin. You watch Nat and Wanda fight next, and Nat takes her down swiftly and surely.

“You ready, trouble?” Bucky asks from the ring, eyeing you.

You roll your eyes and slide in under the ropes, giving him a challenging stare.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya,” he says with a smug grin.

“You wouldn’t dare, Barnes,” you seethe, stepping up to him so you’re chest to chest.

“I’d snap you in half in a second,” he whispers down his nose at you.

“At least buy me dinner first,” you tease as you land a sharp elbow into his stomach. He steps back, a challenging look on his face.

“Fine, half pint, but you asked for it,” he says as he flips you over on your back and walks around you puffing out his chest. You lie there for a moment catching your breath and decide to play dirty.

“Ow, ow… I think you hurt me,” you whimper, holding your shoulder like it’s injured.

He leans down so he’s on his knees beside you and his eyes grow wide and concerned, “Shit, you okay? I’m sorry.”

You grin at him devilishly before taking him down onto his back in one motion, pinning his arms up and away from his body under your knees, “You gotta be quicker than that, baby.” You stand up and catch Steve gazing at you darkly. He starts to clap.

Bucky stands up and huffs, smoothing his shirt. If looks could kill…

“Good job,” Steve says from the gym floor. “Sorry, Buck, but she got you.”

Bucky walks by you and whispers under his breath, “Rematch tonight. I’ll find you.”

You shiver at the thought and exit the ring with a shit-eating grin. You’d bested Barnes. 

Later that night after a team dinner, you go for a run around the compound, needing to blow off some steam and have some time to yourself. Your headphones are blasting your favorite playlist and the earth feels solid and steady under your feet as your lungs fill with fresh air. A flash of white passes you and you jump, but then realize it’s only Steve, lapping you for the first of countless times. He slows down and circles back to you, waving. You take out an earbud.

“Hey,” you say through a deep breath, starting to walk.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” he offers, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Oh? Why?” You ask curiously.

“It wasn’t respectful. The comment I made about you seducing a warlord,” he explains.

You laugh, “Well, maybe I was about to. You don’t know who my targets are all the time.”

He laughs and runs a hand over his neck, “Well, either way. We’re part of a team, and I just wanted to apologize.”

“No apology needed,” you wave it off. “Let’s run.”

Steve nods and slows down his pace so you can run together. When you finish up you both walk back into the main living area of the compound together. Your face is flushed and your breathing is heavy. You spot Bucky immediately on the couch wearing athletic shorts and nothing else. He sits up a bit as you walk in. 

“You start without me?” He asks, looking at Steve. You watch Steve’s eyes widen as he shakes his head.

“What’s that?” You ask Bucky. “Start without you?”

“Yeah… it was just a joke,” he shrugs, looking down.

“Yeah? Explain it,” you say, crossing your arms.

Steve and Bucky both look at each other but remain silent. You watch Bucky shift on the couch, lightly tugging at his shorts and it clicks into place. You look around the communal room and see that you’re the only three here at the moment.

“Oh, I think I get it!” You say with a fake giggle. Bucky and Steve still don’t say anything, but they both look at you. 

“Doubt it,” Bucky retorts, rolling his eyes.

“You boys want to fuck the new girl, huh?” You ask, taking your hair from the ponytail and shaking it loose.

“Woah-we…” Steve starts, but you cut him off and look at Bucky. 

“Barnes?” You ask. “Am I right? You two old guys want to take turns with me?”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, raking a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” Bucky finally spits out. 

“Thank God. I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a wink to both of them. Bucky stands up from the couch immediately and walks over to you and Steve before leading the way up to his room.

His room is dark - like him. Dark bedding, curtains drawn, and a closet full of black. 

“Listen,” Bucky starts, closing the bedroom door behind him, “we’re in charge here.” He gestures to him and Steve.

“Oh, you boys are cute,” you muse, kicking off your shoes. “I’m going to use your shower. Why don’t you guys warm each other up? I’ll be out in a few.”

Bucky’s jaw drops and he looks at Steve, whose eyebrows are on their way to the ceiling. They both watch you walk to Bucky’s bathroom and shut the door behind you.

Check out part 2 here.

Taglist:

@ruexj283

@sebastianstan0813

[tommorowonlymaybe]

Hi! I just found your account, and I love your work (^.^) I was wondering if we could get some headcanons or a scenario whereas the turtles are fighting the shredder with the reader, who was kind of forced into it, and ends up jumping in the way just as Shredder's about to impale one of the turtles and takes the hit for them!

I hope all is well, thank you!! (^.^)

Tmnt 2012 x Injured!Reader

Hi! Thanks for requesting. I didn't know which ending to do, so I made two - a happy one, where you survived, and a sad one, where you died. Enjoy!

Everything was happening too fast.

Blades clashed, sparks flew, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. The turtles had fought Shredder before, but tonight—tonight felt different.

And you were in the middle of it.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t even supposed to fight. But one thing led to another, and now you were standing in the crossfire of a battle you were never meant to take part in.

And then you saw it.

Shredder, towering and merciless, his claw raised, aimed directly at one of them. They didn’t see it.

But you did.

You moved.

Pain. White-hot, blinding pain.

The force knocked the air from your lungs. Something sharp tore through your side, impaling you. The world blurred as blood dripped from your lips.

The turtle—whoever it was—stared at you, horror-struck.

You tried to smile. Tried to make it okay.

And then, everything went black.

During the Fight:

Leonardo

The moment your body moves in front of him, everything slows down. One second he’s ready to counter, the next, he’s watching you take the full force of Shredder’s attack.

He’s trained to control his emotions, but all of that discipline shatters the second he sees your blood on the ground.

When you fall, he catches you before you hit the ground. His hands are trembling.

He doesn’t hesitate—he orders the others to get you to safety while he stays behind to finish the fight. And this time, he’s not holding back.

He blames himself. He was the leader—it was his job to protect you, and yet you nearly died saving him.

Raphael

He sees red. Pure, unfiltered rage.

The moment your body moves between him and Shredder, he screams. He tries to reach you, but it’s too late.

He sees the way your body jerks from the force of the attack, the way your blood stains the ground, and his vision goes red.

“No, dammit! What the hell were ya thinkin’ ?!” His voice is raw, desperate, shaking as he drops to his knees beside you.

He’s never felt this kind of helplessness before. He presses down on your wound, but his hands are shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

When he turns back to Shredder, he’s gone feral. There’s no restraint, no tactics—just raw, violent rage. And Shredder is about to pay. He fights like a man possessed, not stopping until the enemy is down.

After, he stays by your side but is angry at you. Not because he’s mad, but because he was terrified.

Donatello

The moment you move, he knows what’s about to happen, but his body won’t move fast enough to stop it.

The sound of your pained gasp is something he never wants to hear again. His heart stops, and for a terrifying moment, he forgets how to breathe.

He doesn’t care about the fight anymore—he has to get to you. The logical part of his brain shuts down. All he can focus on is keeping you alive.

“no… no, No, NO���this can’t—hold on, I can fix this, I have to fix this—” The next second he is already next to you. hands frantic as he works to stop the bleeding.

He’s muttering calculations under his breath, trying to figure out how much time you have, trying to ignore the crushing fear that he might not be fast enough.

In the lair, he works tirelessly to treat your wounds, barely resting until he knows you’re okay. He won’t sleep for days—he’ll stay by your side, making sure you don’t slip away. He can’t lose you. He won’t.

Michelangelo

“No—WAIT!” But it’s too late. You’re already moving, already taking the blow that was meant for him.

Panic. Pure, raw panic. One moment you were okay, the next you were bleeding out in front of him.

His stomach drops when he sees you collapse. He doesn’t think—he just runs to you, shaking as he kneels beside your broken body.

“No, nononono—this isn’t funny, dude, c’mon, open your eyes—” His voice cracks as he shakes you, desperate for any sign that you’re still with him.

He’s crying, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he’s in the middle of a battle, that Shredder is still there—none of it matters if you’re not okay.

And when he turns back to Shredder, there’s none of his usual cheer. No jokes. No laughter. Just cold, burning rage. (Oh yeah, when there’s serious Mickey, you know it’s over)

After the fight:

The moment the fight is over, all four of them are at your side. They don’t care about anything else—you come first.

Donnie is frantic, hands moving fast as he presses down on your wound. His voice is shaking as he tells you to stay awake. Does everything he can to save you. Literally doesn't sleep, constantly checking your stats. No one talks about it, but everyone sees how desperately he clings to hope.

Leo is silent, but his expression says everything. He looks calm on the outside, but his grip on his katana is tight enough to break. He doesn't talk. Like, at all. He just sits next to you, squeezing your fingers in his hand. He feels guilty for what happened. He should have protected you, but instead you protected him. He tries not to show his emotions to anyone, because he doesn't want to upset others even more. He is a leader, he must be strong… But at night he stands at the head of your bed, hoping for a miracle.

Raph is pissed. At Shredder, at himself, at you. Because you were reckless, because you almost died, because he was scared. But he doesn’t leave. He just sits there, gritting his teeth, fighting the urge to break something. Sometimes his rage turns to silence, and at that moment he looks at you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Mikey is crying, but he won’t leave you alone. He keeps talking, trying to keep you awake—“Stay with us, okay? We’ll get pizza after this! My treat!” He hates silence. It scares him. He talks to you a lot, trying to pretend everything is okay.

“You’re strong, right? You’ll make it through, won’t you? Move your pinky if you will… pretty please?”

Sometimes he’s afraid to look at you, because then he’ll have to admit that everything is really bad.

Happy ending

When you wake up…

The first thing you see is the four of them asleep around your bed.

Donnie is knocked out cold at your bedside, clearly exhausted from taking care of you.

Mikey is literally hugging your arm in his sleep.

Leo is sitting upright but has definitely dozed off.

Raph is leaned against the wall, arms crossed, but his face is softer than usual.

The second they realize you’re awake, Mikey tackles you into a hug. He literally jumps on you, forgetting that you are still wounded. (And Donnie yells at him because “THEY’RE STILL HEALING, YOU DUMBASS.”) After that, he does not leave your side for a single step. He is not going to give fate a second chance to take you away.

Leo exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days. After the fight, he doesn’t leave your side. Even when you wake up, he’s unusually quiet.

Raph scoffs and mutters, “Next time, don’t be an idiot and throw yourself into a blade” but then he ruffles your hair. There's such weariness in his gaze, as if everything he's been holding in for so long has finally let go of him the moment you wake up

Donnie just rubs his face and sighs in relief. He almost falls over from fatigue, because he had hardly slept before. After that, he becomes even more careful with you. Now he is developing armor that can protect you in the future.

They don’t say it outright, but you can tell… they thought they’d lost you.

Bad ending

Silence.

The turtle’s lair was unrecognizable. No one spoke, no one tried to lighten the mood. Even the TV was off, for the first time in a long time.

Donatello sat next to you, holding your cold hand. No heartbeat. He checked everything. Five times. But the miracle did not happen.

When Donnie says you won't wake up, Leo doesn't react. He just looks at you.

"That's not true."

He becomes even more withdrawn after that. He blames himself. Sometimes he stands on the roof, staring into space, but if anyone came closer, he would simply leave. Now any little things that are left from you are carefully stored in his room, in the safest place. In future battles, when he wants to give up, it is these things that will give him determination.

Raphael became even more short-tempered. The smallest thing could set him off. When alone, he would go to the training area and beat the training dummies until his fists bled.

Donatello barely slept. He built, he designed, he studied. If only he had created better weapons… better armor… Maybe then, you would still be alive.

Michelangelo stopped joking. Stopped playing games. Stopped being himself. But still, after a while, when the mourning passes and turtles move on after your death, he still comes to his senses. Although, sometimes, when he was sure no one was listening, he would sit by the bed where you had spent your final days and talk to you.

“I miss you, Y/N…”

And silence was his only answer.

They don’t move for a long time. Not until Splinter arrives and gently tells them… “It’s time to let go.”… and they do. But still, something in the air is changed. Without you, It’s never will be the same.

[revelboo]

With all the Megs updates I wonder, couñd we get more IDW (Skin and bones) or TFA updates? 🫶

Sure!

The Devil You Know Pt 5

TFA Megatron x Reader

• Heart racing as he literally begins pulling himself together, you’re painfully aware that freeing him is going to cost you your internship. That Sumdac is so prodigious a figure in the robotics industry that if his ‘secret weapon’ getting loose doesn’t destroy his reputation, that he’ll destroy yours and make sure you can never find a job in the industry. And it’s worth it to help him, to free this gentle giant. Nervously backing up when his head joins with his torso and the size of him really registers while he crouches in the middle of the lab, accidentally knocking over computers and tables. “You have no idea how good it feels to be back,” he growls, head turning to find you.

• And you offer him an uncertain smile, your sweet, trusting nature twisting through him as he reaches for you and you willingly put yourself into his hand, let him close his servos around you and lift you to optic level. “What will you do now?” Imagines the horror on your face if he told you he’s going to raze this miserable rock you call home to ash. He’d been looking forward to that, to teaching you that hard lesson to not trust anyone, but as you lay soft hands on his, he vents. You’ll figure it out soon enough. With his comms back in action, he reaches out, searching for his followers. Letting his internal systems run diagnostics and finish the repairs you made. Waiting for Sumdac to come to him.

• “I’ll live and finish what I started,” he says, that low, rumbling voice making you smile. “Rest, little one.” A huge servo smooths against your cheek, shockingly gentle for how massive he is and you relax into his big palm. Nerves jangling in worry about Sumdac and your future, but so exhausted. Glad that you’d been able to help him even if it ruins your future.

• Servo absently running down your spine as you relax into his touch, rumbling softly when he realizes you’re sleeping in his hand. But you had worked so diligently to repair him. Maybe he should keep you as a pet to sit at his feet. See how long it takes for that trusting spirit to irreparably break. Because you’re going to be a treat to ruin. Though, keeping you ignorant has its appeal, too. A challenge.

• Drifting in and out of exhausted sleep, you feel that servo sliding down your spine over and over. Hear the thrum of his internal systems and his venting. And you hear when the door opens, head lifting as he growls and tucks you closer to his chassis and shifts a panel. Yelping as you’re slid inside and you cringe back from the fitful pulse of his spark, back hitting the now closed panel when he moves. Heart racing, you hear his rumbling growl, but can’t make sense of what he’s saying as you flatten yourself as far from his spark as you can get, flinching when arcs of energy reach and fall just short of you. Why had he put you in here? Is he hiding you from Sumdac so you don’t get in trouble?

• Oh, that look. That unmitigated fear. Smiling lazily as Sumdac freezes, the small human staring in horror and he lunges, servos closing on the man and he howls, fighting. How tempting to just squeeze until the human pops in his servos. But then the fun is over much too soon and he wants Sumdac to suffer as he has. Feeling you moving around inside him, trying so frantically to avoid his spark, he subspaces his other plaything and presses his servos against his chassis. There’s so much to do.

Previous

Next

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

ooOooo for the prompt ficlets #31: Doing a pinky swear? 🫶🏼

uhhh.... i was going to keep these all real small to get through them but... shit happens OKAY HERE YOU GO

steddie | G | 700 | pinky swear

It is 3:43am when Eddie wakes up the first time, his hand abruptly leaving Steve’s and waking him with the movement.

“Eddie?" he croaks, "Eddie! Hang on, hang on, let me–” He reaches over Eddie’s head to press the call button, settling back into his chair. “You with me, Munson?”

“Ste…? He wheezes

Duh. “Shit, water. Here..” he grabs the nearest cup, hoping Eddie doesn’t mind the now lukewarm remnants of melted ice from his dinner. “Better?”

Eddie gulps loudly, then winces at the pull in his cheek. “What happened?”

“You were an idiot, that’s what.” Steve says, peppering in only a little bit of the heat he’d put behind the same words earlier in Eddie’s stay, “What’d I tell you? Not to throw yourself into danger?”

“I believe your words were ‘Don’t try to be cute.’, which, frankly, I don’t need to try at....”

Steve blinks at him, “Wow.. only awake for three minutes and you’re already making me wish I’d left you down there.”

“You don’t mean that.” Eddie smiles, waving an arm at him and wincing again.

“Sure I don’t.”

“In fact, if I continue to recall correctly, I was promised a milkshake if I made it out alive.”

“You–” he starts, but is interrupted by the nurse bustling in to check Eddie over.

Eddie continues to blink slowly up at the ceiling after she’s gone.

“You remember that?”

“Hm?”

“About the milkshakes?”

Eddie turns his head to look over at him and his soft smile falls, “Don’t feel obligated, Harrington, I know you were just trying to keep me awake.”

“What do you remember?”

He looks back up at the ceiling. “Dustin crying, him yelling your name, Nancy jabbing her cold, tiny fingers into my neck, a lot of pain mostly.”

“What else?”

Eddie’s eyes find him again, confused more than anything. “Not much; I don’t remember being picked up, but I remember that I was.. And then you telling me that you’d buy me the biggest milkshake you could find and the biggest, sloppiest kiss to go alo–”

The look of dawning realization is quickly taken over by horror. He rolls his head straight again and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Jesus Christ…”

“Eddie–”

“Any possibility of getting outta here tonight? I’d really like to get thrown back down there with the bats now.”

“Would a regular kiss be okay?”

Eddie’s head whips around so fast he hits his injured cheek on his own shoulder. “Ow–fuck– what did you just say?”

Steve scoots to the edge of his seat, leaning up closer to Eddie’s face.

“Just for now, I mean. I’d rather do our making out somewhere other than a hospital bed.”

“...Huh??”

Steve sighs, hanging his head for a moment, then picking it up again to explain it all.

“You were dying right there on the concrete, Eddie. And when we finally got to you and I picked you up, you would not stop talking.

“Which was good, that’s how I knew you were still with us.. And you started telling me how you’d always wanted to go out with me–”

“Oh Jesus Christ–” Eddie tries to cover his face with both his hands, but Steve captures the IV-addled one in his, leaving Eddie only the other to cover his eyes.

“--take me to a movie and kiss me in the back row, take me to Benny’s and share a milkshake with me.. So I told you that if you made it out, I’d get you the biggest milkshake I could find,”

“‘And the biggest sloppiest kiss to go along with it.’ Eddie quotes back at the same time Steve does.

For a few breaths after that, Eddie doesn’t say anything, so Steve continues.

“So… will a regular kiss do for now?”

Another breath later, Eddie peeks out from between his fingers.

“You’ll get the other two after you’re out of here, I swear.”

“Do you pinky swear?” He finally asks, sticking his pinky into the air from where his hand still lays on his face.

Steve snorts a laugh and reaches up to grab Eddie’s little finger in his, “Pinky swear.”

Eddie’s lips are chapped as all hell, but Steve couldn’t care less.

this is irt this post!

[fastandcarlos]

Knight In Shining Armour : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: you’re all for carlos protecting you, but the extent that carlos will go to do so even leaves you feeling slightly fearful of what he’s truly capable of

Your eyes went wide in horror as Carlos turned away from you, holding on tightly to his hand. Drops of blood were already hitting the floor as Carlos shielded himself from you momentarily, refusing to let you see just how much it hurt. You rushed over to him regardless, resting your hand against his back as you tried to hide the frustration that was on your face. 

“What were you thinking?” You scolded, head shaking in disbelief as Carlos smiled weakly back at you. 

He bit down on his bottom lip as he tried his best to mask the pain, “he gave me no choice, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Not hit him,” you shouted, throwing your arms up in the air. You went to speak again but you were interrupted by a member of Ferrari staff bringing across a medical kit to help you sort Carlos out. 

“He’s been flirting with you for weeks, I bet he probably doesn’t even work here,” Carlos tried to explain, “I can only stand back for so long.” 

You took a hold of Carlos’ hand, brushing your fingertips over it gently, “if that’s what he was doing, which I don’t think he was, this isn’t the answer to fixing it.” 

Carlos understood your frustration, but he was desperate to stand up for you and your relationship. His apologetic eyes watched as you wiped over the wound, making sure that it was clean, despite Carlos hissing in pain. 

“I appreciate that you care,” you softly spoke, breaking the slight tension between you both, “but you don’t always have to be my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos glanced across at you, “I do, I’m your boyfriend.” 

“And look where that’s got you today,” you huffed, pointing back at his hand, “you’ll be lucky if you can still drive this weekend with this.” 

The realisation finally seemed to hit Carlos as he sunk back in his seat. “It would still be worth it, knowing that I was able to protect you.” 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty as Carlos seemed to throw away his career with his words, confidently assuring you that you were the priority. He really would do anything to keep you safe, no matter the cost. 

Carlos could tell you were worrying as you remained silent, “I’m fine, really.” 

You wanted to believe him, but you just couldn’t. As much as you adored Carlos, you were scared by how much he loved you and the extent to which he would go to protect you and keep you safe. 

“I don’t want to be the reason you hurt yourself,” you admitted, closing up the medical kit. Your voice was the softest it had been since Carlos took a swing, making him look back across at you. Your heart was racing as you spoke, unable to block out the fear as to what might have happened if Carlos wasn’t pulled away by members of the Ferrari garage. 

Carlos understood how you were feeling, his reaction had surprised himself too. It was a situation he never found himself in before, he’d never felt threatened, but when he did, instinct kicked in. It was almost as if he just saw red, trying his best to find the quickest thing to do in order to fix the situation. 

Only Carlos hadn’t quite fixed the situation, because now he had you beside him wondering where that side of your boyfriend even came from. 

You knew that Carlos had all good intentions, but knowing that he hit someone, for you especially, left a sour taste in his mouth. He was one of the golden boys of F1, charming, kind, considerate to everyone, but that persona that everyone loved seemed to disappear so quickly when trouble arose. 

After a few moments of silence, Carlos stood himself up from where he sat, soon realising that you had nothing left to say to him, deciding to give you a bit of space to think instead. 

It wasn’t quite the reaction that Carlos was expecting though. 

Whilst he didn’t imagine you throwing yourself into his arms, he had hoped you’d be a bit more understanding. He did it for you, even if it didn’t seem that way, a way that you certainly weren’t appreciative of right now. 

You found yourself back in Carlos’ drivers' room after taking a walk around the paddock, feeling as if everyone’s eyes were on you. You weren’t actively avoiding Carlos, but not bumping into him was a bit of a relief. 

The room was untouched from how you both had left it earlier in the day, random bits of merch were scattered around, the sofa at the back of the room still draped with blankets, one of which you wrapped around your frame. 

With the four walls surrounding you, you finally allowed yourself to take a moment. A tear fell down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away, throwing your head back. 

You lost count of how long you were in the room, waves of fear, pride, nerves washing over you. Your mind was spiralling out of control as you tried to piece together the various pieces of the emotional jigsaw you were fixing. 

The only thing that brought you back was Carlos creeping into the room, smiling weakly as he greeted you. His hand looked a lot better, bandage around it to try and protect the wound, hiding the faint colours of purple that you’d already noticed earlier. 

“Hi,” you whispered as Carlos tentatively took a seat beside you. 

There was still a slight tension as Carlos turned to face you. “I thought you might be in here, do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No,” you spoke, resting your head in your hands, “this is your room more than it is mine.” 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos spoke as soon as you fell silent. 

“You’re an idiot,” you scolded, but Carlos already knew that. “I don’t even know what you were thinking doing that today.” 

Carlos shrugged back across at you, “it was stupid, but at that moment it felt like the right thing to do in order to protect you.” 

“I don’t always need protecting,” you reminded him, your voice getting louder with every word you spoke. “I especially don’t need protecting if that’s the way that you’re going to do it.” 

Carlos understood your frustrations, he knew you felt let down by his actions, but now he was scared too. “I’m sorry that I let you down, but I was scared too love. I was terrified that this guy was going to start getting involved with you, and then I just wouldn’t have known what to do.” 

Your brows knitted together, “do you really think if anyone else was interested in me that I would pay them any attention when I’ve got you here with me?” 

“I know, and that’s on me,” Carlos whispered, running his hands over his face. “Maybe it’s me, maybe I’m the one that needs to stop watching over their shoulder all the time.” 

You shifted your body so that you were facing Carlos too, making sure that your full attention was on him as he began to open up to you. 

“Everyone thinks that I’ve got it all, the career, the partner, the supportive family, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry too,” Carlos confessed, his voice a little shaky. “I still worry most days that something is going to give, that something is going to get taken away from me, and the thing that I’d hate to get taken the most is definitely you.” 

You nodded, taking in every word that Carlos said to you. “I never imagined you’d feel like that, I guess I was one of those people that was under the illusion that you were living the dream too. Do you really worry that someone’s going to come and take me away from you?” 

“Everyday.” 

“Oh, Carlos,” you whispered, feeling your heart break. You moved closer towards him, taking a hold of his unbandaged hand. 

“I know it sounds stupid, but it scares me sometimes how in love I am with you, and I worry that someday all of this is going to be taken away from me. I’ve never been happier than I am with you,” Carlos told you, tightening his grip on your hand. 

You smiled weakly as his tearful eyes looked across at you. “If that’s ever how you feel, you’ve just got to come and tell me, don’t act like this. I didn’t recognise you earlier when you hit him, that’s not the Carlos that I know and love, it was like watching a stranger. 

It was something that Carlos knew he’d have to spend a long time making up to you, knowing that his actions left you frightened earlier was a guilt that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a while. He knew he’d let his own insecurities eat away at him for too long, unable to hold it back today and finally letting them tip over the edge and get him into trouble. 

You could see it too, seeing him silently scold himself as he let the voices in his head get the better of him. 

“I love that you love me and want to protect me, but I only ever want you to do that when you’re safe,” you asked of him, “not getting yourself into a situation like this.” 

Carlos nodded at your request, “I don’t ever want to end up like this again, my hand hurts more now than it does after a crash.” 

Your eyes rolled as a snigger came from Carlos. “You’re going to be feeling the effects of that for a while, luckily for you, you’ve got a partner who knows a thing or two about helping you through injuries.” 

Carlos’ head came down to rest against your shoulder, “I think I’m just lucky that I’ve got you, in whatever situation we find ourselves.” 

Your eyes were drawn to the bandage on Carlos’ hand, placing your free hand gently over it. Knowing that was underneath was done for you hurt, knowing Carlos had put himself through that just for you left a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Promise me that you’ll talk to me,” you asked him, wanting to hear it one final time from him, “tell me things, that’ll still make you my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos nodded back at you straight away, “I promise I’ll tell you anything, no matter how stupid it might be.” 

“Nothing is stupid if it keeps you safe,” you reminded him, leaning your head back to press a kiss against the top of his, “that’s all I want for you.” 

“I know, and that’s all that I want for you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[losers-clvb]

"why aren't you here in my bedroom?" sam winchester x party girl!reader

content: canon typical violence, age gap, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praise, fluff, internal angst on sam's end

word count: 3.6k

song: risk by gracie abrams

note: please ignore my shitty attempts at texts, i do not text (much) irl. this "series" isn't going to be like a book -- the parts are going to be weeks or months apart, just to let everyone know.

m.list meet party girl!

The first interaction you had with Sam Winchester involved werewolves and vampires. Despite the absolute insanity spouting from his mouth, you trusted him, especially with his arm still wrapped around you after pulling you out of harm’s way.

“So that was a werewolf? Like Teen Wolf?” You pointed in the direction the other man had gone in, a gun cradled in his hands. Sam narrowed his eyes at you in confusion.

“Wha-,” then he thought about it. “Yeah, a bit like Teen Wolf, I guess.”

“And it was with a vampire?” You were trying to get a grasp on the situation. It wasn’t every day your favorite genre came to life.

“Yes.”

“Like Twilight?”

“No.” Sam laughed out at the image. “Nothing like Twilight, actually.”

He watched a small pout come to your face.

“They don’t sparkle?”

“No, I’m sorry.” He was stuck on staring at your expressions. You were beautiful, he noticed. All of your features suited you well. He was tempted to sweep a strand of hair out of your face before you gasped in horror.

“Behind you!”

Sam tightened his grip around you and spun, letting you nuzzle into his chest. You breathed in his scent, eucalyptus and mint flooding your system. There was a hint of something smoky that you assumed to be gunpowder, though you couldn’t be sure. Before today, you had never even seen a gun.

You felt him lift his arm -- the one not holding onto you like a child with a helium-filled balloon -- and two gunshots rang out. You flinched with both, fingers digging into his flannel. You heard something -- a body, you realized a second later -- hit the grassy ground.

Even in your alcohol-altered state you knew it was a bad idea to look behind you. That didn’t stop the curiosity from creeping in, pulling your head in the direction of your previous attacker.

There it was: the body of a guy not much older than you, laid out in the grass with a gunshot wound to the chest. A small cry left your throat before you could stop it. You’d never seen a dead body before.

Sam’s reaction was immediate, a hand over your eyes guiding your head back into him. He wanted to protect you from this, from his world.

“Shh,” he mumbled soothingly, brushing his fingers into your hair. You relaxed into him, focusing on the worn fabric pressing into your cheeks. You heard footsteps behind you, but from Sam's lack of worry, you assumed it to be friend instead of foe.

“Sammy,” a gruff voice called,

Sammy

That must be his name, you thought. You filed that away into your brain for later.

The other man must have gestured out a question, because a second later, you felt the rumble of his chest when he mumbled a yeah, yeah.

The casual way he was holding you paired with the calming scent of him made you tilt your face up, resting your chin on his chest. The alarm you had felt just moments ago fizzled into something else, something more like yourself. Your eyes twinkled up at him.

“Thank you for saving me.” You drawled, sliding a hand up to rest on his shoulder. The old band t-shirt you had borrowed from a friend rode up slightly, exposing more of your tiny skirt. You felt the other man’s eyes drift to your thighs, but your attention was locked on Sam. “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

“More like flannel.” He joked. His eyes drifted over your lips for a split second before coming back to your eyes. “And it’s kind of my job.” He chuckled.

“Still,” you shifted yourself onto your toes, “I wanna repay you.” His hands, which had been slowly traveling to your hips, gripped onto the fabric just over your waist. It was to keep you steady on your toes, at least, that’s what Sam told himself. You bit your lip to add to the meaning behind your words.

“Is that right?” Sam hummed out, raising his eyebrows. It wasn’t everyday that a pretty girl flirted with him this heavily -- in reality, it was pretty much everyday a pretty girl flirted with him, but usually his head was too far into the case to notice.

“I’m goin’ back to the room, Sammy.” The other man jingled the keys in his hand, giving you one last look over before turning around. “And, uh,” he threw a look over his shoulder at Sam, “have fun.” He winked with his suggestive words.

Sam tried swallowed down his embarrassment, but you still saw a pink flush on his cheeks. You shifted on your feet, hoping to get his attention back on you. Of course, it worked.

“You wanna have fun with me?” You purred out. You felt his fingers dig into your hips. A flash of hesitance shone through his eyes.

“How old are you?” He could tell you were young, like, really young. You hadn’t seen the world yet, hadn’t experienced as much as he had. Though, not many people had experienced what Sam had. He felt you push up against him a little more.

“Old enough.” You responded, making him narrow his eyes.

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“Twenty-one.”

You watched a grimace cross his face.

Fuck, you were young. Barely legal to drink. You had obviously taken advantage of the fact that you could drink, if the slight sway in your stature and the dilation of your pupils told him anything.

“C’mon, honey,” you urged, the pet name coating him in a fuzzy feeling, “I want you, you want me-,”

“How do you know I want you?” He cut you off. You tilted your head slightly, the glitter on your cheeks sparkling at him.

“I know when a man wants me.” You answered. You moved your eyes from his, drifting over his face to the steady rise of his chest. You wanted to reach out to unbutton his flannel, wanted to see the muscles you knew it hid.

Suddenly, everything was funny. The weed gummy you popped before leaving the party was kicking in.

You giggled out, the force of your laughter knocking you over. You fell into Sam’s chest and his hold on you tightened.

“Are you high?” He thought back to the one time he’d smoked, back to his college buddies elation at every little thing. You hiccuped into him and turned to look at him, the side of your head now resting on his chest.

“A little, teeny, tiny, itty bit.” You replied, using your fingers to show just how little, teeny, tiny, itty bit it really was. Sam couldn’t help but smile at that. You were so fucking adorable.

“Let’s get you home.” He offered, trying to hoist you up to completely standing. You gasped and clung to him further.

“No!” You practically shouted out, a moment of sober washing over you. “The dorms have a curfew.”

Dorms. Curfew. Every word reminded him of your age, of why he couldn’t just kiss you right there and then.

“And when is that, honey?” He asked, trying out the pet name on you. It instantly lightened your panic, making you giggle again. You buried your face into him.

He nudged at you, a reminder that you still needed to answer the question. You resurfaced from the Sea of Sammy, as you had mentally dubbed it.

“What time is it now?” You slurred out. Sam checked his watch.

“3:00 AM.”

“Oh, curfew was…,” you did the math in your head, but the numbers got fuzzy, “two hours ago.”

“One?” That didn’t seem right. Most colleges, especially on the weekdays, cut the students off at eleven, midnight at the very latest.

You scrunched your nose.

“Eleven.” You corrected. Apparently math wasn’t your strong suit when intoxicated.

“Where were you going?”

You had been walking along the sidewalk when the boys had passed you initially. They figured you were fine, or, at the very least, could wait until they were done with their hunt before they offered their help. It wasn’t until you had been chased into a clearing in the woods that they, or rather Sam, had actually met you.

“Mmm, I dunno.” You giggled again, shrugging. “Diner?”

“Right…” Sam nodded. Had the college kids really gotten this unsafe with their lives, or had he just forgotten it all?

“Don’t judge me.” You cupped your hands around his face, pushing his cheeks together. “I love pancakes.”

“No, no, I believe you.” Sam managed to get out through his squished cheeks. You pulled him down closer to you, nearly eye-level with the giant now.

“No, Sammy, you don’t get it.” You dramatized every word. He almost corrected you -- it was Sam not Sammy --, but your eyes widened. “I could fuck up some pancakes right now.”

A smile twitched over him again. His hand found the small of your back, resting just above your butt.

“Wanna go get some?” He asked when you finally dropped your hands from his face. Your eyes lit up.

“Really?” You were practically vibrating with excitement.

“Who am I to keep you from your pancakes?”

He kept himself calm when you squealed with excitement, spooking a few birds that had settled into the trees near you. You had forgotten all about the night’s prior events and, luckily, Dean had found time to take care of the bodies, so no reminders would occur.

Sam wasn’t ready to let you go. No, not yet. He just wanted to be in your presence a moment longer. He could learn to ignore the pull to you later.

----

Turns out he couldn’t learn to ignore the pull.

Not when you had so kindly fed him bites of pancake while talking about your life.

Or when you had woken him up with a kiss on the nose after he let you crash in his and Dean’s motel room for the night.

You were making it especially hard to ignore it all when you sent him those sweet texts everyday.

honey, i found another sammy

don’t worry, she’s not as cute

honey, we talked about mythology today and i thought of you

honey, i’m a litgle drink right niw, but i stil miss you

Sam smiled at every single one, especially when they got flirtier after you two made it official. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that you were his.

He made it a point to visit at least twice a month. He couldn’t stay for long each time, but it was enough time for you to cling to him like a koala on a tree, and to do… other things.

You weren’t a virgin in any way, something you found yourself repeating over and over, but Sam wanted to take it slow with you. He wanted to prove to you -- and himself, (and the whole world) -- that he didn’t want you just for your body.

You both settled for those heated makeouts, his hands gripping onto your ass. There had been a few times you’d gotten off on his thigh, soaking his pants through your lacy panties. Your little sighs and whimpers got him rock hard, but every time you tried to help him out, he would rush off to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.

Tonight, you were ready to take things up a notch. You had made sure your dorm mate would be out for the night, pushing her in the direction of the party you were missing.

It started out innocent enough.

Sam was halfway across the country in some dive bar, texting away with you while Dean hustled pool.

you: i miss you, honey.

sam: I know, baby. Next week?

Fuck it, you thought before snapping a picture of yourself.

you: i’m thinking about you right now, though.

you: [picture]

Sam nearly choked on his beer when he saw it. You, spread out on your dorm bed in nothing but lingerie. Lace -- in his favorite color, he noticed -- barely covered your breasts but pushed them up in just the right way. He couldn’t see what you possessed between your legs because your hand was stuffed into your panties. He imagined those whines he loved so much falling from your lips while you touched yourself.

While you touched yourself to him.

He booked it for the bathroom, a small room with only a toilet, sink, and trash can to judge him.

“Hey, honey.” You breathed out when you finally answered the phone. Sam swallowed.

“Baby,” he sighed, trying not to touch himself, “I wasn’t alone.”

“Did you like my picture?” You giggled out. You had stopped touching yourself -- it was really only for the photo, but hopefully you would get back to it soon.

“Are you really thinking about me?” Sam asked, leaning his arm up against the wall.

“Mmm,” you hummed suggestively, “always.”

He swore at your voice. So fucking sweet, like it was meant just for him.

“Can you talk me through it?” You wanted him to, God, you were practically foaming at the mouth for it. You listened for half a beat, waiting for his answer.

“Touch yourself for me.” He mumbled into the phone. You bit your lip and grazed your hand down your body. Shifting its way into your panties again, you whimpered at the brush of your knuckle against your clit.

Sam palmed himself through his jeans, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Are you wet?” He asked, then decided to add on to the question. “For me?”

You sucked in a sharp breath and swiped a finger through your folds.

“Yes, honey, so wet. All for you.” You all but moaned out. Sam slowly unzipped his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. This made him feel like a creep, like some guy that got off from a simple moan from a girl.

It didn’t work. You heard the zip sound into the phone, making you smirk.

“You wanna touch yourself with me, honey?”

Sam froze, his heart beating out of his chest.

“I, um,” he stuttered out. He didn’t think he would be caught. It threw him off of his game, making that confidence he felt before start to drift away. You sensed this and echoed his words back to him, shifting them just enough to make them your own.

“Are you hard? For me?”

Sam melted back into the moment. He wrapped a hand around himself, pumping slowly.

“Always.”

You whimpered at his own echo, imagining it all in your head. You hadn’t seen his cock, but you had felt it against your leg, against your back.

“You want my hand wrapped around that cock? Hmm? Stroking you nice and slow?”

Sam bit back a moan, but moved his hand just how you were describing.

“Maybe in my mouth? Taste you on my tongue?”

“I thought I was the one talking.” Sam interrupted your filthy teasing, but imagined the scene anyway. You, on your knees, taking him into your mouth with your eyes locked on his.

“Tell me then, honey. What should I do?”

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Nice and slow.” He repeated your words, making a giggle break through your moan.

“Picture my hand on that pretty pussy.” He smiled at the whine that escaped you.

“You’d make me feel so good, honey.”

“Yeah, baby, I would.” He watched his hand move on himself, trying to distort his vision to see yours instead.

“Slip a finger in, just one.” He could pinpoint the moment you did it, your breathing picking up.

“Just one?” You whined. He could see that pout on your face, the same one you always threw on because you knew it would make him give in to you.

“Just one.”

You huffed out a fine, making Sam fill with joy that you were still mouthy when horny.

“Good girl.” He mumbled.

“Honey,” you moaned, rubbing your thumb on your clit while you moved your finger in you. “I want you here. I want you touching me. I want your cock.”

“Oh, baby,” Sam tutted at your dirty words, “careful with that mouth. Don’t want people thinking my girl is cockhungry.”

You whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut.

“But I am cockhungry. You’ve been neglecting my needs. Please, honey, please.”

Sam squeezed gently, pulling a groan out of himself. He listened to your breathy whines for just a moment before answering.

“Next week.” He quickened his movements just a tick.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you sucked in a breath when you curled your finger up a bit, “gonna ride you. Let you fuck up into me until I only know your name.”

“Fuck,” Sam swore. You bouncing on him while he gripped onto that sweet ass.

“Will you make me feel good, honey? Please?”

“Anything for my girl,” he panted out. He could feel his balls tighten up.

“Add another finger, baby, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, honey.”

He heard you hiss in pleasure, which, in turn, made him grunt at the image in his head.

“Feels so good, honey, but I wish it were your fingers in me.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he bit his lip to quiet his moan. “I want you here touching my cock, but we can’t always get what we want.”

“I’m gonna come, honey. Can you come with me?”

“I’m waiting for you, baby. Wish I could taste you, wrap my lips around those fingers and lick them clean.” He pumped himself faster, bringing himself to the edge.

“I’ll clean ‘em for you, honey.” You promised, moaning when you heard him groan.

“Say my name when you come.”

“Sammy.” You whimpered. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…”

Sam came into his hand with a groan, his eyes screwed shut when his name fell off your tongue. He heard you shuffle over the phone, then a notification dinged.

“Look at how good I am for you, honey.”

Sam pulled the phone away from his ear, tapping into your message thread. There, displayed out for his eyes only, was a picture of you with your fingers shoved into your mouth, eyes rolled back. He could see the shine just below your lips, your release coating your digits just for him.

“Such a good girl.” He said into the phone, pulling his jeans back up. Fabric rubbing together -- your comforter, he realized -- sounded through the phone. He could see you in his mind, pulling on that silky robe you would make him get for you after showers.

You settled back into bed, letting your pile of blankets envelop you.

“I miss you.”

Your words made his heart clench. He wished he could be there, holding you, rubbing on your skin soothingly until you went to sleep. Of course, he would never be there, in your dorm room. There had been one time, only once, that he had dared to follow you in. He felt out of place in the crowd of twenty-somethings, nevermind the fact that he was technically a twenty-something, just on the wrong side of the spectrum.

It had taken one mutter of “sugar daddy” to get him to all but sprint back to his car, but not before he got a glimpse of your room. It was girly and sweet with just the right amount of mess that he would expect from a young girl.

Young being the key word. You were young, he knew that, you knew that, every damn person you came into contact with knew that.

It wasn’t until you sauntered from the dorm building with an excited smile on your face that he had pulled himself from the self-loathing. How could he regret this when he had your pretty face to look at?

“I miss you more.” He sighed out now, holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder while he washed his hands. He heard your lazy giggle.

“Not possible.” You slurred out the last part of your words and that’s when your muffled yawn crackled through the phone.

“Are you tired?” He asked, but he already knew the answer.

“A little, but I want to talk to you.”

“You need sleep, baby.”

“Okay, dad.” You rolled your eyes with the words.

Sam stilled. Dad. He knew you would have said it regardless of his age, and he wasn’t old enough to be your father, but it still stung. It brought back the reminder that this was probably wrong and he was a creep.

You furrowed your brows at the silence, completely oblivious to his internal battles. You saw no issues with your relationship. Sure, there were people who stared, and maybe a waitress or two that were Sam’s age would make you feel like a little girl, but it was all worth it to get to love him.

“Honey?” You whispered into the phone. Sam swallowed and glared at himself in the mirror. “Sammy? Did you fall asleep?”

“No, I’m here.” Sam snapped out of it, his eyes dragging to the floor. You smiled to yourself.

“Can you tell me about your day? Just until I fall asleep.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, blinking at the floor before reentering the organized clatter of the bar. He saw Dean talking up the bartender on his way to his previous seat in the corner.

Sam muttered on about his day, your small hums warming him. He had started to go into detail about the insanity of the town’s sheriff when he heard it: your soft snoring.

He closed his eyes and listened. For only a moment, he was next to you, arm wrapped around your shoulders with you cuddled into his chest.

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispered into the phone before ending the call, an empty, sinking feeling in his chest.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids

[semisasseater]

I THINK I’VE GOT A RIVAL

i have to kill.

SUMMARY ‘After killing ten boys who tried to confess to you, Heeseung finally works up the courage to confess his love—but when you reject him, he decides to make sure you’ll love him one way or another.

𓊆 黑星 𓊇 x gn!reader 㞫⠀⠀ ִ ⠀ 880 obsession stalking kidnapping murder non-confinement emotional manipulation violence yandere themes — 类型 dark romance psychological thriller horror yandere

✴︎ LIBRARY ✴︎ part 2 part 3

‧˚⠀⠀ 🤍⠀⠀ ɞ 作者注 : guys i love yandere simulator (not the dev fuck the dev) so i wrote this inspired by it

Ten boys he killed for you.

Ten weeks had passed since the first one disappeared. Then another. Then another. Heeseung kept count, a tally etched into the back of his notebook, the same one where he scribbled your name over and over. The boys were nuisances, cockroaches swarming around you, thinking they had a chance. They didn’t. Not when Heeseung was watching.

He got rid of them before they could confess, before they could take what was meant to be his. It was funny, really. None of them ever saw it coming. Your best friend was the most troublesome—always lingering too close, touching your arm, whispering things in your ear. Heeseung made sure he suffered the most.

But it was done now. All gone.

And today was the day.

He had spent weeks working up the courage, perfecting his confession, making sure everything would be perfect. The love letter was placed delicately in your locker, his handwriting neat, the words trembling with emotion. Then, he ran—ran up the hill behind the school, to the cherry tree.

There was a rumor about the tree. They said if you confessed there after school, the person couldn’t say no. Heeseung never believed in superstitions, but today? Today he would take all the luck he could get.

His heart raced as he saw you approaching, out of breath, eyes scanning for the one who had left the letter. You came.

He stepped out from behind the tree, smiling so wide it hurt. “Y/N! you came i.. i was so nervous but.. but i love you i’ve loved you for so long please accept!”

The silence was unbearable.

You stood there, stunned, staring at him with wide eyes. His heart pounded.

“I’m sorry… I don’t feel the same way…”

The world stopped.

“We never met before, and I don’t know anything about you…” You looked apologetic, hesitant. “We can be friends, but I’ll have to reject your confession. I’m sorry…”

No.

No no no no no no—

His fingers twitched. His smile faltered. His head felt like it was splitting open.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

His breathing was heavy, erratic. Then, suddenly—“what’s that behind you?”

You turned, confused.

Smash.

The weight of his bag cracked against your head, and you crumpled. Heeseung barely registered the thud of your body hitting the ground, the way your chest still rose and fell. His whole body was shaking, his breath ragged.

He had to fix this.

—

The school was empty by nightfall.

Heeseung moved quickly, dragging the instrument case through the night, careful, precise. No one saw. No one suspected a thing thinking he was a performer.

By the time he got home, his heart was thudding with excitement. Finally.

You were here.

He tied you to the chair, securing the knots carefully—not too tight, didn’t want to hurt you, not too much. A blindfold over your eyes, rope keeping your muffled screams in check.

And then he waited.

The moment you stirred, he was there, eyes glinting with joy. He reached out, slowly pulling the blindfold away.

There they were.

Your beautiful, terrified eyes.

He grinned. “welcome home baby.. how do you like it? it’s not much for now but once we get something bigger i’m sure you’ll like it”

You screamed, muffled and useless.

His smile widened. “dumb of you to reject my confession after i got rid of all of those stupid boys for you. it’s okay though you’ll fall in love with me soon!”

Tears welled up in your eyes. Heeseung’s heart squeezed at the sight.

“oh no don’t cry baby it’s okay! i killed them because i love you im so in love with you i created a shrine of you!!” he chuckled, rocking on his heels, his eyes never leaving your face. He looked at you like you were the sun, the moon, the air he breathed.

You stared back like he was a monster.

His fingers brushed your cheek, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “i’m just so happy.. i can’t wait until you’re out of this basement and loving me we can get a dog or maybe a cat or anything you want! and we’re gonna have mini us running around the house someday.. i cant wait!!”

Your body trembled. The tears spilled down your cheeks.

Heeseung cupped your face, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“you’ll be with me forever… no one will ever take you away from me.. im yours forever”

And you knew, in that moment, as the last bit of hope drained from your body—

You would never escape.

@semisasseater

[mightybeewrites]

Child of the Bat

Yandere! Batfamily x Neglected! Platonic! Reader

Chapter: 3

First, prev, next

Synopsis: you and your mystery horror author mother moved to Gotham for a fresh new start. At first you hated the idea of moving. You wanted to stay in Georgia with all of your friends and all of the familiar faces but soon you had to say goodbye. A few months into your new Gothamite life—disaster struck and your mother died. It was revealed that you’re also Bruce Wayne’s bio child. And so you moved in with him and his sea of children. Will you survive this new change in your life? Or will you succumb to the pressures of Gotham and its corruption?

A/N: When I describe what clothing you wear, you can imagine smth else :3

———————

Meeting Damian Wayne was… puzzling. It was as if you two were looking into a mirror. What Alfred told you about Damian was that, he was just a few years older than you and that he is awfully serious but has a good heart. It would be a lie to say you wasn’t nervous.

------

Waking up to a big room was still something to get use to. The bed felt like a million clouds wrapped together with a red silk string. Your eyes took a minute to open. And your body took even more time to get out of bed. Once you did, you stepped out of bed and got ready for the day then stepped out into the hallway. You walked and walked. Soon, the creepy hallway filled with dust and cob webs and spiders, turned into lavender scented rugs, the head statutes without any dust, and and glossy wooden floors.

Alfred said that the estate will become more chaotic once everyone comes home.

You walked down the stairs dressed in baggy pants and a punk t shirt, with some eyeliner and a little lip gloss. Some braids were over your shoulders while the rest was down your back. Just as you was about to go look for Alfred—to hopefully help him with cleaning or just to hang out with him, the front door opened to reveal a taller guy. The first thing you noticed were his piercing green eyes and arched eyebrows.

It was as if the world had stopped.

A lump was caught in your throat as you stared at the tall boy. His dark brown hair was short.

“You must be the new girl Alfred mentioned.”

You said nothing but nodded.

He stepped inside the manor, hand gripped on the strap of his bag. Green eyes never left your form. You didn’t dare look away either. His expression was unreadable—which made you shift a bit on your feet. Your blue eyes started to search his face—he had brown skin like yours with dark hair pulled back. He wore a deep red dress shirt with dark pants. Wherever he shopped at, it felt as if he just called you poor in 56 different languages.

He simply tilted his head to the side—“it seems father’s genes are superior… don’t you think?”

Your arched eyebrows twitched a bit as your gaze hits the floor. “um...I am not sure. I… suppose. I’m-“

“-Y/N. I’m aware of that already. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

And with that, Damian Wayne walked past you—up the stairs and out of sight.

-----

A whole day passed when you met Tim Drake-Wayne. From what you can remember due to Alfred and media, he’s suppose to be very intelligent and would use his money to donate to a lot of charities. Which is pretty impressive.

Though, you didn’t expect to meet him at the unholy time of 3:47 AM. You was hungry. So you went to the kitchen to make yourself a sandwich—only to find Tim eating a grilled cheese with some chips and a tall can of monster on the side.

Despite your footsteps being unusually quiet, the moment you stepped into the kitchen, Tim immediately looked but continued to chew.

His blue eyes scanned your appearance—his expression calculating.

“You look just like him.”

Was the first thing he said. In which you shifted uncomfortably.

Your intense eyes darted, “Alfred told you?”

Tim finished his meal and got up, “No, it doesn’t take too much to know you’re his kid.”

You walked closer to him as he started to clean up his area, “What’s he like? Apart from what the media shows. I’ve been a bit nervous to meet him.”

“Bruce is… complex. I gotta let you know that he’s a very busy man—so you might not see him much.”

Your shoulders slumped—despite the possible good intentions behind your new brother’s words, you don’t know why but it stun a little to hear that. Would he even care when he came back? Would he care about you or look your way? Or would he stare down at you like the gunk on his expensive dress shoes.

Just as he was about to pass you, Tim put a hand on your shoulder which made you look up. Your blue eyes boring into his—your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why he was touching you.

“My condolences…by the way.”

You blinked multiple times before your gazed lowered.

“…. Thanks..” your voice was small. Your throat burned and you forced yourself to hold it all back. Your shoulders trembled and shook, your fists were tight.

Your gaze was met with a box of tissues. You didn’t notice at first but your new brother offered you tissues.

You didn’t dare look at his face, you kept thinking he was pitying you.

“… I know what it’s like. To lose your parent… it’s.. not very good.”

“It hurts…” your voice was quiet.

“I know…”

“I… hate it.” Your soft voice turnt harsh.

“… I know.”

“I want to make him pay.” You muttered to yourself.

Tim didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t have time to. He watched you take the box of tissues, muttered a thanks and walked away, up the stairs back to your room at the far ends of the manor.

Tim bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes went off to the side—squinting, scheming, thinking.

“… she really is like him.”