#NOT proofread

[arkofangels]

Don't wait up

Summary: In the heart of Gotham, you juggle the pressures of your final year at college and your prestigious Wayne Tech internship while sharing a cramped apartment with your chaotic but well-meaning roommate, Mia. A quiet night in quickly takes a turn when Jason Todd—your elusive criminology classmate—crashes, quite literally, onto your fire escape, wounded and bleeding.

a/n: slight swearing, mention of blood/injury, not proofread I wrote this half-asleep

You never thought Gotham would be home. Not really. It was a pit stop, a means to an end, a place where you could work, grind, and claw your way toward a future that didn’t involve dimly lit apartments and the constant hum of sirens outside your window. But Wayne Tech’s internship program was too good to pass up, and now, here you were—sharing a cramped studio apartment with Mia, your chaos-loving, party-going, endlessly exasperating roommate.

Mia was a hurricane, a whirlwind of bad decisions and infectious energy that somehow made life feel a little less bleak. She had a way of pulling you into her orbit, dragging you to bars, forcing you to meet new people, reminding you that there was more to life than deadlines and high-stakes projects. But tonight? Tonight, you needed quiet. Needed stillness. Needed a break from everything and everyone.

You curled up on your bed, cradling a mug of tea as lavender-scented air from your diffuser wrapped around you. The new semester was already stretching you thin—your grades had slipped last year, and you weren’t about to let that happen again. You had a plan. Study. Work. Graduate. Get the hell out of Gotham.

And then the window rattled.

The sound wasn’t loud, not at first, but something about it sent a spike of unease through you. The city had its own rhythm, its own sounds—the low thrum of traffic, the occasional shout in the distance, the ever-present hum of life pressing against the glass. But this? This was different. A sudden impact. A groan of metal under weight.

You turned, heart in your throat, just in time to see a shadow slump against the fire escape. A hand smeared red streaks across the glass, and beyond it stood the last person you’d ever expect to see in this part of the city.

Jason Todd.

You knew him. Or rather, you knew of him. The quiet guy in your criminology class who always sat in the back, never spoke unless called on, and somehow still managed to answer everything perfectly. The guy with the sharp eyes and the sharper wit, the one who never stuck around after lectures, always disappearing before anyone could get too close.

And, apparently, the guy bleeding out on your fire escape.

Your first instinct was to call the police. But something about that felt... wrong. Jason Todd wasn’t the type to be involved in anything illegal—at least, not in the way that would warrant calling the cops. But the leather jacket, the streak of red across his chest, the faint emblem of a bat barely visible beneath layers of fabric—it all told a different story.

Your stomach twisted.

You knew what you’d seen before. The Red Hood. A myth, a ghost, a brutal hand of justice that left criminals broken in Gotham’s gutters. You had seen him once, in passing, in Crime Alley when you’d taken the wrong turn after class. You’d been more intrigued by his tech than the man himself—wondering what kind of genius had built something so efficient, so powerful, so lethal.

And now he was here. Bleeding out. On your fire escape.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, grabbing the first aid kit you kept under your bed. You weren’t a medic by any stretch, but this was Gotham. Everyone had to learn basic wound care at some point.

You unlatched the window and shoved it open. The cold air bit at your skin as Jason tensed, his hand twitching toward the pistol at his side.

“Relax,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I'm just trying to help”

His mask tilted up, white lenses locking onto you. A pause. Then, with a grunt, he staggered forward, collapsing onto your couch with the kind of drama that suggested this wasn’t his first time doing this.

“Thanks,” he muttered, voice rough, like gravel scraped across asphalt. “Hope you’re not too attached to this couch.”

“Not particularly,” you shot back, already pulling out gauze and antiseptic. “But I’d rather not have to explain a bloodstain to my landlord.”

Jason let out something that might’ve been a laugh, but it turned into a wince. You peeled back the ruined fabric of his shirt, assessing the damage. A deep gash along his side, ugly but not fatal. He’d live. Assuming he didn’t pass out on you first.

That was Jason Todd. The guy who never talked in class. The guy who was always there but never quite present. And now, the guy bleeding out on your couch, wearing the unmistakable gear of the Red Hood. Your classmate. The vigilante. The myth you’d only half-believed was real.

Your hands kept moving, more out of instinct than conscious effort, dabbing antiseptic onto the wound, pressing gauze against it. The weight of the realization settled in your chest, heavy, cold.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood.

It should have sent you into a spiral. It should have had you freaking out, or at the very least, demanding an explanation. But instead, you found yourself slipping into something easier—small talk, grounding yourself in the mundane while your mind scrambled to process everything else.

“What the hell did you get into?” you asked, threading a needle with steady hands.

“Let’s just say Black Mask and I have some... unresolved issues.” His smirk was sharp, even through the pain. “He doesn’t play nice.”

“Neither do you, apparently.”

He didn’t deny it. Just watched as you worked, his breathing slowing as the pain dulled to something distant. You didn’t ask the obvious questions. Not yet. How long had he been doing this? How had no one figured it out before? What else had you missed, sitting three rows behind him in class, thinking he was just another student with sharp eyes and sharper instincts?

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken questions. You weren’t sure why you spoke, why you let curiosity override common sense, but the words tumbled out anyway.

“The mask,” you said, nodding toward the helmet on your coffee table. “Tech like that doesn’t come cheap.”

Jason’s lips quirked. “What, you looking to upgrade?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “I’m a tech designer. It’s kind of my thing.”

He blinked, like he was seeing you for the first time. "Wayne Tech?" he asked, his gaze lingering on the employee ID you’d left on the coffee table, his expression unreadable.

“Intern,” you clarified, finishing the last stitch. “Not that I’d expect you to care, Mr. Vigilante.”

“Wayne Tech, huh?” His tone shifted, edged with something unreadable. “Guess that explains why you’re not running for the hills right now.”

You snorted. “Please. I’ve seen worse injuries in the R&D lab. You’re lucky I didn’t just slap a band-aid on it and call it a night.”

That earned a real laugh, low and rough, but not unpleasant. “Fair point.”

You leaned back slightly, taking him in. The Red Hood. Jason Todd. The same person. And yet, nothing about him had really changed. He was still the sharp-eyed guy from class, still the one who always seemed to know more than he let on. The only difference was that now you knew, too.

“Not many people build helmets with integrated HUDs and infrared vision,” you shot back, “or crash into my fire escape, bleed all over my couch, and make themselves at home, But here we are."

Jason smirked, something softer beneath it.

As the silence stretched between you, the sudden jingle of keys at the apartment door shattered the fragile stillness. Both of you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Your stomach dropped.

Mia was home.

"Oh shit... that's my roommate," you whisper sharply, snatching Jason's mask off the table. Without thinking, you step closer and position yourself in front of him, blocking the unmistakable bat emblem on his chest with your body. It wasn’t subtle—you could feel Jason’s eyes on you, probably amused despite the situation—but it was the best you could manage under the circumstances.

The door flew open, and Mia swept in with her signature flair, her hair slightly disheveled and her eyeliner smudged. She froze mid-step when her eyes landed on Jason sitting on the couch.

"Uh... hi?" she said, raising an eyebrow, her gaze darting suspiciously between you and him. "Did I miss something?"

"This is... Jason," you said, fumbling for words and gesturing awkwardly toward him. "He’s in my Data Analysis class. Had a bit of an accident and, uh, needed some first aid."

Jason gave her a small nod, his expression unreadable. "Nice to meet you," he said smoothly, somehow managing to make the situation seem less bizarre than it was.

Mia narrowed her eyes for a moment, clearly not convinced, but then shrugged it off. "Right. Well, I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is," she said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and disappearing into her room without another word.

The door clicked shut, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "That was close," you muttered, turning back to Jason. He was leaning back now, one eyebrow raised, clearly amused.

“Data Analysis class? Really?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest smirk.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "You're welcome for saving your secret identity, by the way. And it's not that bad—we're going to the same college. She’s bound to see you around campus eventually."

You let the silence settle for a moment before shifting your weight, glancing at him. "So," you began, your voice softer now. "What's it like? Being..." You gestured vaguely at his suit.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Being what? A guy who bleeds on random people’s furniture?”

You rolled your eyes. “A vigilante. You know what I mean.”

He leaned back, his gaze fixed on you, as if weighing how much to reveal. “It’s not glamorous, if that’s what you’re asking. You get used to stitches, bruises, and sleeping with one eye open. But… someone’s gotta do it.”

You shifted on your feet, watching him carefully. "Hey, you know you don’t have to do this, right? There are people—Batman, for one—who can handle this kind of thing."  

Jason let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Batman can’t save everybody." His voice was firm, unwavering. "Someone has to step up."  

"And that someone has to be you?" you asked, your voice quieter now.  

He shrugged. "Guess so. Not like I could sit back and watch this city tear itself apart."  

Your lips pressed into a thin line. There was something undeniably admirable about his resolve, even if it sounded like a lonely existence. A life of sacrifice. Before you could respond, the sharp buzz of Jason’s phone cut through the quiet room. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.

“Trouble?” you asked.

“Always,” he muttered, standing up and grabbing his jacket. 

“Thanks for the patch-up. I owe you one.”

And just like that, he was gone, swallowed by Gotham’s shadows. You stood by the window for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against your skin. 

You weren’t sure what this meant, if it meant anything at all. But one thing was certain—Jason Todd had crashed into your life, and something told you he wasn’t done yet.

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓭𝓮 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 1

summary: you and luigi are competing to kill the same target and that leads to some tension that has to be fought against

𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈: 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗀𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗁

𝗍𝗐: 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 '𝗇 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾

~

"Keep your hands right there." You stare into Luigi's eyes, a threat threaded through the lasers you were glaring into him, but neither of you could actually see.

Your head is tilted, your eyes straining to look at him as he mimics your posture, walking in a circle.

It's been going for a minute or two now, you both on opposite sides of each other ignoring the man tied up in the chair in the middle. Gunshots in his legs have gone unnoticed, having been littered by you both as you now fight to assert dominance through death.

Whoever puts the bullet where it matters wins.

Luigi smirks, giving into your threat and taking his hands away from his gun holster before putting them up and cocking his head to the side.

"What's my little baby gonna do if I don't let her win? Hm?" His tone is infuriatingly smug as he gets exactly what he wants, watching you become even angrier.

In rage, you send another gunshot into the man's leg, but neither of you pay attention to how he's keeling over himself, waking up only to feel the pain of a fresh new wound. Luigi watches the way you hand grips the gun, breathing in and out thinking about the precision and dedication to your craft and breaking life down to pieces.

"You like that Luigi? You like it when I hurt people?" You smile tauntingly, stalking him in the same circle that he stalks you in, seeing how his resolve falters. "You're too scared to answer my question so you respond with another one?" Luigi flexes his jaw before wearing his dominant mask again, never letting go of the thrill of banter.

"I thought men were braver than women. Care to prove it?" You quip and Luigi runs his hands through his hair. "Keep talking like a fuckin' smartass and-" he's half-muttering and speaking out loud, frustration building up in his system as he suppresses the thoughts coming to his mind.

The ones that no, aren't about winning and killing the guy bleeding to death in front of you both, but about using his hands to win you over and win over you physically.

To make you weak and drive you to the edge of a pleasure so good, it feels like a death you'd want.

"Or else what, Mangione?" You smirk, stopping as you turn to look at his frame which has now frozen to look at you. He rolls his head back and around to stretch before he draws his gun out, but you're quicker by drawing it too.

He's pointing it at you while you have it pointed at the bleeding body.

"I could kill you right fucking now and all you care about is winning." Luigi gnaws his teeth, straining the words out as you smirk more, partially unbeknownst to his desires.

"Of course I do. I'll never let you win Mangione. Not now, not ever." You respond with equal vigor, watching how his ego is getting bruised or so you think. He licks his lips, making them wet before keeping the gun on you but folding his hand inwards as he gets closer. You watch, your heart rate rising as you manage to keep a straight face, thinking this is just a show.

"Do you ever think about how I already won?" He smiles while pressing the gun onto your breast-bone and you gasp, tightening the grasp on your own gun, fingers shaking as the move is sudden for you.

You fight your own moral compass, whose arrow is flailing itself in all sorts of direction, trying to come to terms with the fact that the each second he gets and stays so close, you want him even more. You like riling him up but you never knew you wanted him to snap, the way he's about to right now.

"I'm not here for games." You try to speak some sense into him, trying to ignore the fact that you want this as much, if not more, than he does. You're not even sure if he wants to fuck you, but you're 99% sure and that's enough to drive the words spilling out of your mouth.

He presses the gun harder and you tip your head down in pain, letting yourself fall back onto a table behind you.

"I asked a fucking question. Do you ever think about how I already won, Maria?" Maria. He rarely said you name but when he did, it sounded like it was meant to be inside that pretty mouth.

And come out of it too.

He watches how your eyes widen a little more when he says your name.

You drop your gun, taking in tiny breaths as you sit yourself up on the table like he asked you. In truth, yes, silently he was. He was when he pressed the gun into your chest and increased the pressure even though he knew the table was cutting into your thighs.

He wasn't asking. He was demanding.

"Good girl." He whispers loud enough for you both to hear and you don't dare to look into his eyes before running the gun up your neck and finally at your chin. Luigi applies enough pressure at the right angle to press you onto your back, watching you arch.

"Maria," He starts his sentence after your back is fully settled onto the table, hair sprawled in every direction with your legs straining from the awkward position. He laughs at your wide eyes staring straight ahead of you but avoiding his contact.

You can see from his peripheral vision how his eyes rake over your entire body, savoring the way your curves dip and rise perfectly. He's looking at an art.

Not a piece of art. An art. The art was you being you. The art was you existing.

He smirks when he watches your lower back and hips tremble, trying to keep themselves afloat as your back threatens to arch and slip off of the table.

His hands comes swooping around your calves as he lifts you with ease and folds your knees, placing your feet on the table and making your body move upwards. The action pushes your head back, neck exposed in his sudden decision.

You should be putting your neck back down and saving yourself the pain, but you don't. Something about the way he can see you, feel you, and control you to want to do this for him makes you aroused. You want to tease him in the very little power you have.

"I told you what it is, but you chose to stay." He bends down and whispers into your ear, listening to the whimpers you let out as you struggle to keep your neck arched. Your eyes close in a feeling of euphoria slowly building. "You chose this pain." He bring his gun back and presses the trigger to your chest. You scream and let your head shoot up but he's laughing.

His gun is empty.

You pant, reeling from how he might've killed you but instead of making you fear him, it makes the arousal sear through your body.

"Do you know why you chose this, Maria? Why you're letting me fuck you up?" Luigi nearly spits in your face, triggering the humiliation he badly needed to see you. You blink and bite your lip, still taking in deep breaths.

"'Cause you don't know me, you just know my name. And the thrill of my unknown makes you more of a whore than you ever thought you'd be." He speaks every word of a truth that seems to echo in your ears and who knew? The opulent intelligence and string of sick philosophy makes you moan.

He places the gun in your hands before gripping your wrist and lifting your arm up to point it at the man in the chair, who is wheezing. You look back at him, eyes glossy from pleasure as you question him.

"I thought you wanted this Luigi." You speak with a weak voice, trying to give him the chance. Instead, his other arm comes down before squeezing your neck enough to choke, but still listen to his words.

"You're right. I wanted this." A finger taps on the side of your neck which is only squeezed tighter and your back comes up, hitting the side of his body as you squirm.

"But I can't let anyone watch me while I claim it. Not even a dying man." Your finger tightens around the trigger as his grip around your wrist tightens and you squeeze out a breath.

"You pull that trigger and I will fuck you so hard I'll make sure I give you a taste of death at least this once before you die in my arms." He hovers over your face, staring as your eyes flutter but you turn your head to the side, determined to take what you deserve.

"I'll never let you go with once, M-Mangione." You stutter out, eager to tease him even in this position. He lets out a laugh before coming down to kiss your inner forearm.

"You wish is my command while my desire is a request for which I know your answer is a yes." He chuckles before his hands loosen around your neck.

"Maria, pull the fucking trigger before I put a bullet in your head." He whispers into your ear and you bite your lips before turning to meet his head, slightly moving your arm to take the shot. You let his tongue dive past your lips before the trigger clicks once again.

A gunshot resounds and neither of you turn to check because your prize is his lips and body.

And now, you are being rewarded.

~

@officialdilfenthusiast ur a slut and ur mine <3

taglist: @madkohi @poohkie90 @chariytz @nosebeers

[fangirlforeversthings]

-Take me on a date first-

---Teaser about a little fanfiction i'm working on, on how it came to codywans first date----

*The rough plot and outline of my first ever fanfiction wip

Ahsoka: So master obi wan when are you and cody getting together. Like when are you gonna tell the other you love them?

Obi wan choking on his tea: I dont love cody?!

Anakin: when are you gonna marry?

Obi: I'M NOT GONNA MARRY CODY!

Anakin: but you agree that he is a handsome and kind man?

Obi pressed: well yeah obviously but i mea'

Ahoska yelling back over her shoulder to the boys: CODY OBI WAN SAID YOU ARE VERY HANDSOME AND KIND

Anakin: AND THAT HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU

Everyone: ahaaaa

Boil: I knew it!

Waxer: i hope we are getting an invitation

Rex: And drinks? on you of course *to cody leaning on his shoulder*

Fives: can i be the flower girl?🥺

Cody now joining: very first off all thank you sir and you are not that bad yourself. But i would much like to be taken on a date first. A nice restaurant with fine wine or a casual walk in the evening when it rains so we can share an umbrella

Obi wan fighting for his life to explain himself: I, listen to me guys.........wait. Would.....are you into such things?

Ahsoka: why are you asking him? did you plan something? did you hope he is?

Anakin: yeah did you?

Obi wan: i no it's..

Cody: so you don't want me?

Obi: no i mean yeah i mean'

Cody: Fine cause i'm taking you serious if you take me to a restaurant

Obi: *hrmph*oh yeah?

Cody: yeah

Obi: good

Cody: good

Obi: i'm serious. Like i'm gonna do it?.

Cody: yeah fine.

Obi: Fine. i'll pick you up later at eight then

Cody: fine

Obi: FINE.

Everyone watching excited, dead silent holding their breaths, constantly turning their heads switching looks between them as each one speaks.

------------

-Later this evening-

Hiding behind an aquarium each head poking out to the nose behind its corners sit echo, fives, boil and waxer, spying on cody and obi wan who acutally went on their date actually having fine wine.

Waxer: its going well 🤭

Echo smirking: yeah they are really sweetly stupidly smiling at each other the whole time

Boil: we are so gonna get an invitation to the wedding! I mean we are the ones that brought them together atlast

Fives adorned with flowers in his hair he stole from the bush left to him his hands folded infront of his chest: and i get to be the flower girl🙏🏻🌷

Echo *sigh*: yes fives, you can be the flower girl

Fives: yes! :3 *before he returns his attention back to codywan, laughing sensually together at the moment

Boil whispering to echo: what is up with that guy? *points at fives behind upheld hand*

Echo:.......like right now or in general?

Fives: 😑

Boil comms anakin. Wearing leave brenches secured with a headband on their heads, spy glasses and Camouflage clothes, he and ahsoka are hiding inside the bushes and spy on codywan on obi wans side of the room:

Boil comm: Mission goes well sir.

Ahoska giving them a look from across the room and a thumbs up

-----------

-Next morning-

Boil and waxer: Good morning general🎶

Obi wan: Good morning🎶

They chat and giggle about the situation a bit more before boil goes silent suddenly.

Waxer:.....he is right behind me isn't he?

Suddenly a hand grips waxers throat from behind not hard, but firm

Waxer: 😬 good morning sir

Cody: Good morning.

Boil: you saw us didn't you

Cody: i would be a bad commander if i hadn't right?.......and blind. And deaf.

Waxer: right.

Cody bowing down and whispering: you will feel the wrongs of spying on your commander.

He then leaves to greet obi wan

Cody *clears his throat* uhm good morning.

Obi wan turning to him smiling *blushing*: good morning

Cody: i uh it was nice yesterday i liked it.

Obi wan: me too.

Moment of awkward silence

Obi wan: we uhm should repeat it again at some point.

Cody *blushing* yeah yeah definetly.

Obi:

Cody:

Obi:

Cody:so uh i will go to my uhm i have matters to attend to you know commander stuff

Obi: of course

Cody leaves

Obi calling after him: have a nice day dear

(First time he called him that)

Cody nodding back and basically sprinting away to hide his corrie red, face neck and chest slapping his forehead while he walks: commander things?! Damnit cody. Just shut up next time. It was going so well ugh.

Obi wan smiling after him.

The others who were on spy mode again cheering and high five'ing each other as both had left.

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[sukunasbow]

vi definitely talks you through it.

with every thrust of her strap into your tight cunt, she’s huffing out different phrases.

“you’re taking me so good, baby, fuck.”

“i’m gonna speed up, okay? doing so well, feel how deep i am.” as she takes your hand in hers and makes you press down above your cunt, feeling the huge strap move in and out of you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

“i want you to cum for me, please, let me see you come undone.”

“give me another one.” as she brings you to your third orgasm, your cunt now aching but still clenching around the faux cock and begging for more stimulation.

[thephantomsdream]

Let's be real for a second.

Ghost likes you a lil mean. Just enough. To him, to his mates, to everyone. He can fight. He will fuck anyone up who dares to react aggressively to you, so it doesn't matter if you're sassy, snarky, plainly put a little shit. He won't stop you, he's not gonna "tame" you, he's definitely gonna fucking eat it up and tease you, loving your remarks, clever, funny or straight up mean. The man will be smirking behind his mask (or straight up giving you heart-eyes at home). Don't be unnecessarily mean though, it's not a good look on anyone. Oh, god, and if your humor is dark? You got the man snorting and fucking giggling*(1), shoulders shaking and him trying to hold it in as you're plain roasting someone.

Be mean to him. He tests the waters, dropping one of his incredible and fantastic jokes for you to roll your eyes at him and tell him to rather wear a clown mask, since he's such a joke, and I swear he folds. Wants to pin you down and fuck you raw until you're a sobbing mess that knows nothing else but his name? Of course, and know he'd be mocking you, because where's that snarky mouth of yours, hmm? Oh, ya, busy sucking on his fingers. But until then, he's lowkey following you around dropping stupid joke after stupid joke until you're actually angry and amused. He got you smiling somehow? Gets him feeling like a young boy with a crush, silly butterflies and all.

Give him a bitch-face. Raised brow and unimpressed face at anyone and he's just eyes on you. Fucking hell, he's creepy too. Ghost is fucking intimidating as he is but if he just fixates on something, big brown eyes locked onto you and (big, awkward because let's be fucking for real, boy's actually fucking awkward) body frozen. Just 🧍‍♂️. (I'm fucking wheezing, he just 🧍‍♂️👁👁 and you know it!)

"Fuck are you looking at, weirdo?" That's bloody foken lovely!

And!

AND! He just (again, awkwardly) hovers and makes shit jokes but is so helpful to you in any way he can because in reality he's garbage with words but with actions he's much better. Regardless of where you met, he'll find a way in your life because you bring him joy and he just can't seem to let go. Simon tries to convince himself too that it ain't a good idea, that you're better off. Aha. Yeah, then you just look at him in a way when someone else says something absolutely fucking stupid and he just... Yeah, he's yours.

Be mean to him, then let him shove his face in your tits. Pull his hair a little but wrap your arms around him. Bite him and call him an idiot if you want, as long as you call him your idiot. That's Simon to you.

(But when you're nice to only him, he feels special. Make this man feel special, yeah? He needs it.)

(1): I actually imagined him in his barracks, him kicking his feet while he wears a pink robe, writing in his pink diary (with a pink pen with one of those fluffy balls at the end) "Dear diary, my lovie called me an asshole today. My heart is still racing. We shall mary in spring." and drawing hearts around his and your initials together.

[aliteralsemicolon]

Thinking about how Spencer takes care of you when you're too exhausted to take care of yourself.

He walks into your bedroom to find you on the brink of sleep, carelessly curled up on your end of the bed and his brows raise in slight concern as he scans you. You couldn't even be bothered to change out of your day clothes. He chuckles lightly at the sight, as he makes his way to you.

"Baby?" He gently calls to you, rubbing your calf with his hand as he takes a seat next to your legs. You're unable to respond to the sound of his voice despite hearing it. He tries again, this time kneeling on the floor next to your head.

"Angel?" His fingers lightly brush through your hair as he whispers near your ear.

"Hmm?" You reply hazily.

You wait for him to speak so you can go back to sleep but all that follows is silence. He resumes his motions in your hair and it keeps you aware of his presence. He's waiting for you to gain some more consciousness. You rub your eyes, fluttering them open and Spencer's quick to guide your hand away from your face.

Right. Your makeup.

"What's up?" You mumble, stifling a yawn.

"I know you're tired, and I'm sorry for having to wake you up," he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "but you do know why it's bad for you to fall asleep like this?"

This is a topic the two of you have discussed before. You're usually quite meticulous about removing your makeup before bed, but you're also no stranger to nights when you can't find any energy to do so.

"Mhm. Clogged pores, risk of infections, bacteria spread, discomfort…" You trail off, summarising his extensive research.

Getting you up and off this bed is a losing battle tonight and Spencer graciously accepts defeat, sporting an endeared grin.

"Can I at least help you get comfortable? Would it be alright if I took these off for you?" He tugs at your top and waits for your response. You nod, letting out a barely audible hum.

Spencer moves off the floor and begins to remove your clothing. "You're gonna have to help me just a little bit, Angel. Lift your hips for me."

You blindly follow his commands, wanting to get it over with so that he can relax and you can go back to sleep. He doesn't relax, though. As he rids you of the last of your clothing, he mentally fights himself on letting you sleep with your make-up. There are so many risks involved, but hygiene aside, Spencer knows that if you wake up with your pillow stained– or God forbid…a pimple– you're going to be beyond pissed with yourself.

The sudden dip in the mattress slightly startles you, as a cool feeling drags against your cheek and you whine.

"Shhhh, sorry, it's just me." Spencer coos.

"What're you doing?" You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, still in a sleepy haze.

"Just wiping off your makeup, sweet girl. You're going to thank me tomorrow." His finger hooks under your chin and he soothingly rubs his thumb just under your lips.

"Spence…" You begin whining but you're unable to pronounce anything else coherently.

He can tell you're slightly irritated, but he doesn't mind. He knows that it's the exhaustion talking.

"I know, I know." He sympathises with his continually gentle tone. "I'm almost done. You're being so good for me right now."

Your lips pout, but you don't complain any further, his words calming you. By the time he's finished ridding your face of cosmetic residue, you're knocked out again. Light snores can be heard from you. He chuckles to himself at the sight of you. So peaceful. So adorable. He leans in closer and plants a firm, lingering kiss on your forehead before he disappears to get ready for bed himself.

"Spence?"

He turns around at your groggy voice, still half asleep. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, my pretty girl."

[saymio]

The Salesman headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, stalking+kidnapping, dub/noncon, DDLG, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. classes started again so I'm taking longer to write, enjoy my hc's while u wait for a longer fic.

The Salesman, the man that found you sitting on a bench all alone crying in the middle of the night. he couldn't help but feel pity for you, like you were a puppy that was left alone out in the rain.

The Salesman, the man that came home late from doing his usual recruiting, feeling his pants getting tighter and tighter every time he replays your bloodshot eyes and shaky pathetic voice.

The Salesman, the man that decides he wants to stalk your every move after he saw you crying all alone. watching you as you try looking for places that would accept you as a worker, or when you pleasure yourself. watching through your open blinds.

The Salesman, the man that will record you while you change, sleep, and do other things around your house. jerking off to your unsuspected body, who would assume a creep was watching them through their window?

The Salesman, the man that gets front row tickets to your freak out. he sent a couple of photos he took of you sleeping to your phone number and now you're frantically running around the house. locking all your doors, windows and covering any opening you could think of. God, you looked so small and weak when you were scared.

The Salesman, the man that met eyes with you while you stood in front of a brightly lit love motel. his jaw clenching and eyes filled with rage, what were you doing here? its obvious you're a virgin, just one look at you and he could probably recite your entire life story. so why were you trying to meet up with someone here? were you going to fuck a stupid child? a boy your age doesn't know how to make a girl feel good...you need an older man to help you..

The Salesman, the man that had kidnapped you in broad 'daylight'. right infront of the motel, right infront of dozens of cameras. watching you squirming body and tears run down your face..but you cant say a word because you mouth has been duck taped shut.

The Salesman, the man that feels a strong urge to just keep you safe. to protect you from the world and let you stay home to do nothing. And the only way you'll be safe is if you stay with him. forever.

The Salesman, the man that will force you onto his cock with no remorse as you yell in pain. you've never had something this big so it feels like you've been split in half...he loves it. he loves your pain.

The Salesman, the man that will treat you like your a stupid child. petting your head and rubbing your cheek while he slowly explains the rules of the game he wants to play with you. like if he were to speak faster you'd get confused.

The Salesman the man that sets you loose in an abandoned warehouse. telling you if you hide for 2 hours without getting touched you win..and get to go home without any more abuse to your hole.

The Salesman, the man that caught you only 2 minutes before the timer went out. dark eyes piercing into yours as he smiles a creepy wide grin. "caught you~"

The Salesman, the man that enjoys your shaky eyes and rapid breathing when he finds you. he thinks its funny, you probably think he's going to kill you. but he wants to do worse

The Salesman, the man that will tie you up to a large bed. items laid out on a desk next to him...the prize for the salesman when he wins was he gets to pick what he can use on you.. he picked a whip, knife, and..his own dick.

The Salesman, the man that whips your body until youre screaming in pain and begging him to let you go...but he only gets worse as his boner gets more prominent against his slacks.

The Salesman, the man that carves "daddies slut" onto your right thigh. licking the blood that dripped down your thighs as he did so.

The Salesman, the man that will make you call him dad and daddy. he finds it so cute how your little voice says it. like a scared little girl calling out for her dad...

The Salesman, the man that drops you off right where he found you. you just had new bruises and cuts now.

Another note: I hope you guys liked this one hshsh, I'm working on a noeul fic rn. idk when it'll come out doe.. T T T T

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

toji absolutely loves "bad" blowjobs. he loves to see you struggle to fit his cock in your mouth. your lips are stretched as wide as they possibly can and you're trying, you really are!! but he's just so fucking big. he loves to see how desperate you get when you think that you're not good enough, that you're doing a bad job when in reality it's only turning him on more. he loves to see you screw your eyes shut as you drool all over his fat cock. he loves when your nails dig into the backs his thighs when you use his own body as leverage to fit more of him in your mouth. he loves when you claw and paw at him like a kitten. like a kitten with a damn milk bottle. so eager, so thirsty – as if it's going to be your last meal. (it wont.)

he loves it when you scrape him with your teeth and how sorry you look after it. pulling back for air, your eyes are so big and so wide, bottom lip jutted out as spit dribbles down your throat while you apologize with a raspy voice. he can't help but laugh, his big hand wrapping around his dick as he continues to stroke himself while watching you squirm down on your knees. tears roll from the corners of your eyes and his balls twitch at the sight. fuck, you're cute like this.

he leans a little closer and you immediately do the same, ready to go back to work. he loves how determined you are. he's so proud. he loves it when you're just a little bit unsure, like when you look up at him, clearly asking for reassurance and praise before placing a wet kiss onto his balls. you don't really know what you're doing and it's fucking hot. he cannot wait to fuck your throat; the sounds you'll make, how your eyes will look – his head lolls back st the thought and his hips buck forward, so for a moment his dick and balls are completely in your face and oh... when he takes a look at you now. flustered and a little embarrassed – you're just not used to being so dirty. toji leans down to kiss you and you let out a little squeal which in turn makes him grin.

he also loves when you can't fucking coordinate your movements. your mouth is doing one thing and your hands are trying to do something else, but it's just hard. there's no rhythym whatsoever and your grip is constantly either too loose or a little too tight and fuck, he's gonna cum in your mouth. you're such a fucking mess, he cannot wait to ruin you.

he loves to see you get shy over the sounds that leave your mouth and he fucking loves it when you accidentally blow a spit bubble on him. oh, that really fucking gets him going. gagging and choking – his eyes are threatening to roll back inside his head but he refuses to let them do so because you look so lewd. and it's all just for him. he loves it when you pull back, taking in big breaths of air just for him to tell you "c'mon now.. " in a low, teasing voice. he loves how for a fraction of a second, you actually glare back at him! but then you're wrapping your lips around him again just like you're supposed to<3333

he loves to watch you struggle to swallow all of his cum, too. there's so much of it!!!!! some slips out from the corners of your mouth and it drips down to your thighs and the ground but toji doesn't fucking care. you're coughing and another pair of tears fall and he's quick to wipe them before they're wasted. he brings them to his lips and licks them clean, all while you stare up at him – his baby, his sweetheart, he tells you how good you were with a smirk. he sounds a little condescending, but he really does mesn it<33333 he's surprisingly patient, loving every single thing you "mess up". it just shows to him how willing you are, how perfect. how dirty.

[moechies]

angry toji + head + bunny = perfect !

meanest toji with his bunnie baby, forcing his darling to suck his dick :(

his strong musk fills your nostrils, hard punishing thrusts to your face as you try your absolute hardest to keep your composure. it doesn’t look great on you that’s for sure, fat globs of tears running down your face, and the crown of your forehead breaking out in a sweat. but, he thinks you couldn’t look more perfect.

he holds you tight by the base of your fluffy ears, both ears. they’re stretched and pulled back by one singular hand of his, his calloused hard palm in comparison to your soft sensitive skin. he tightens his hold on them, pulling them tighter when he feels your tongue slacking, spewing degrading phrases just to watch you wince and cry under him.

“dumb fuckin’ bunny.” is all it takes to have you much more eager than before; to suck harder, lick better. your tongue swirls around his mushroom tip, gliding the tip of it through his salty slit. your little tail shivers, eyes brightening just a bit when you hear him groan, eager for more.

just when you’re about to nuzzle yourself further into his manhood, balls deep in your mouth, he gives your fluffy ears a rather painful tug, forcing you off his dick. drool strings from his cock, connected to your lips as you gasp and cough, strings breaking and coating your chin. you hadn’t even realized that you had been borderline suffocating during the time you had been engulfed with his cock deep in your throat.

“look at you. good f’nothin’ bunny. only good for blowjobs ?” he spits, and you simply peer up at him with glassy eyes that hold no meaning behind them. your chest heaves and throat burns, but you pay it no mind. your eyes cross back onto his standing dick, silently begging for more.

“‘s good you know when to stay silent .” he mumbles before shoving you back on his cock, making you gag. you huff around his length, unintentionally tightening your throat around his sensitive shaft. a string of curse words fall from his mouth, your poor ears straining from his angry grasp. your hand comes up to hold onto his finger, gently attempting to pull it away from your pained ears.

although mean, he’d never hold any intention to harm his bunny. so his grasp does lighten a tad, but in no way does he plan on letting go of your little bunny ears. he would never want to let his bunny go, and let her run loose.

owners need to control their pets, after all.

[venusflytrapm]

It's cold and Aizawa hasn’t offered you his coat. 

You two have been seeing each other for the past three months, you’ve known him longer. There’s little dates when you both have the time, at his place but it’s usually yours. He spends the night, you order take out when you both can’t bare to cook, and you spend your nights reading while he dozes next to you. 

Its quite domestic for such a new relationship.

And it’s not like you wouldn’t call him chivalrous, he’s as chivalrous as you like in a guy, a good in-between. But you wish he would look at you and notice that you’re shivering. 

Now your footsteps are getting heavier with each passing moment, the aggravation becoming more and more apparent on your features as the chill in the air gets colder and colder. You think you might kill him, and you secretly hope he looks your way–

“Are you okay?” Shouta asks, circling his arm around your waist. He pulls you against him and the warmth is good for the moment. 

You’re still mad, or at least you want to stay mad. “Just say you hate me.”

He’s grinning now, its subtle but it’s still a grin. And you’re tempted to push him away and continue sulking in your annoyance. 

“You’ve been shivering for the past 10 minutes, you don't want my jacket?” He’s teasing you, his hand squeezing the flesh above your hip, through your clothes. You can sort of smell his cologne but it’s too faint compared to the smell of earthiness and crisp air. 

You look at him, really look at him, and you can’t help the smile growing on your face. It makes your cheeks hurt in the cold air. 

“I thought you were gonna be a gentleman and keep me warm,” You reply, more sugary than you’d like to come off. 

He’s looking at you with that lazy look in his eyes, the same one he gives you before he’s about to tell you some boring joke in bed. 

He chuckles dryly and pulls away from you, taking his coat off and draping it over your shoulders. And you can’t help but think he looks cute in his fitted henley shirt. 

“Is that warm enough?” He presses a chaste kiss into your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist for a second time. 

You mumble a quick “yeah” and lean into him.

[l13]

The loud thumping wakes you up, and you blink tiredly as the sound persists. You look at your ceiling for a second before you realize someone is knocking at your door. You groan, bringing your duvet over your ear as you snuggle in again.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble against your pillow as the knocking becomes more forceful.

Suddenly there’s silence, and when you finally think that whoever is bothering you has left, the knocking starts again.

You groan, cursing under your breath as you stand up, grabbing your gun from your vanity. You walk to your front door, opening it angrily.

“What-” your outburst dies down at your lips when you lock eyes with the last person you’d expected to see standing outside your apartment, but one you’d longed for, for years.

Your first instinct is to panic, there’s no way you were conscious. The person standing at your door was supposed to be dead.

So you raise your gun up, hand trembling, “This isn’t real.” you choke out, and Vander raises his hands slowly, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “You’re not real, you’re not here.” There are tears dripping down your cheeks, the gun threatening to fall from your hand with how much you were shaking “Y-you’re dead, this can’t-” you clutch at your chest, heaving, and Vander’s hands grab at your shoulders when your knees buckle,

“My love,” The gun slips from your shaky grip and falls to the floor the moment the words leave his mouth. His voice, god fuck, his voice. You’ve dreamed of it, you’re certain you’ve heard it, back when the grief first clawed at your heart, when the illusions spilled into reality to try to mend what was broken.

But this sounded too real, and you gasped when his hand cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Darling, my darling girl. It’s me,” the sweet but rough sound of his voice sent shivers down your back, and you wanted to drown in it, you wanted to hear it again and again and again until you couldn’t anymore. You blinked rapidly, tears blurring your vision as your eyes danced across his features, the five bright white dots across his forehead would have confused you, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

You didn’t realize you’d raised your hand to cover his, until you felt the warmth of his hand under your skin. “S-stop, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” you squeezed your eyes shut, whispering frantically in order to wake up from this sickly realistic dream, to end this before you woke up and missed his touch again. And yet you craved more, desperately running your hands down his sides, back up to his chest, his shoulders, his back.

God, he felt real, and he was so warm, not like the previous dreams you’ve had when he was always cold, just a silhouette of the man you loved. He even smelled like your Vander. A sob broke through you, and you threw your hands around his neck, crying against his chest. Even if this wasn’t real, you’d still take advantage of this opportunity to feel close to him one last time.

You tried not to cry harder when his arms immediately circled around your torso, hugging you tight to him as you both slipped down to the floor, “Shh sh, love it’s me. Please, look at me,”

“If I do then I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” you muttered against his chest, nuzzling closer to him, “Let me have this, just for a moment.”

“You have me, forever.” His rough gravelly voice vibrated against your chest as he spoke, his breath hitting your ear as he nuzzled against your hair, his hands running up and down your back, spreading warmth everywhere.

Too real, too real, too real.

“I miss you so much. I-I can’t-” you take a shuddering breath in, “I can’t live without you. I need you back, please. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“My love, my heart. You beautiful, stunning creature. Look at me, I beg you.”

You could feel him leaning away just so he could cup your jaw, lifting your head up softly, so so softly.

Please.

“Look at me.” he mutters, the softness of his request filled with desperation. You slowly open your eyes, blinking away your tears, gaze immediately locking with his.

Your lips part as you take him in. The color of his eyes was much greyer than you remembered. You raised your hand to follow each feature, each wrinkle of his. After a moment, You brought your other hand up, as well, cupping both his cheeks in your hands, feeling his stubble prickle at your palms. “Vander… This- this can’t be real.” you move to pull away but he cups both your hands, keeping you in place, leaning his forehead against yours, “It can, it is. I’m here honey. I’m here.”

You can’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he speaks, your mind trying to make sense of what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling.

Please.

You can’t let yourself get too hopeful because this isn’t possible, and he seems to get it too, so he starts explaining.

He tells you everything. How he was on the verge of death, how a man, Singed, found him, turned him into something vile, but the mutation kept him alive, even if he wasn’t entirely himself. He tells you about how all he felt was pain, but you and the kids were the only thing in his mind the whole time, trying to block away everything else. Tells you about Powder, Vi, and Isha, how they found him, brought him somewhere, a colony of some sort. A man, the Herald, helped him, and “..honest to God he kind of scares me, but it-it didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now because I’m here. I’m here with you.”

Please.

You don’t realize you’ve lost track of time until you’re looking at yourself. You blink quickly, eyebrows furrowing, but then you realize you’re looking at yourself in the mirror. Vander is still holding you tightly, and the side of your face is pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he whispers sweet nothings against the crown of your head. You stay there, listening to his voice and his heart for what feels like forever.

He grabs your shoulders, pulling you away from him just enough for him to look at you in the eyes, “Are you okay?” he asks, but his voice is muffled, sounding too far away. You blink slowly up at him and he frowns sadly.

“I missed you so much. Even in death I missed you, but I wasn’t selfish enough to wish I could see you again because that would mean you’d-” he cuts himself off, the strands of his hair moving as he shakes his head, eyes clenched shut as if to rid himself of that painful thought. “I-I’m here. I’m real. Darling, I’m alive, and I need you to know this.”

His eyes are pained as he stares down at you, once again cupping your jaw, thumb caressing your cheekbone “Say something.”

“I love you.”

His face immediately crumbles, eyebrows squeezing together as his tears start falling, and he tucks his head against the place between your neck and shoulder, crying as he squeezes you impossible tighter, “I love you.” he chokes out, and you feel him pepper soft kisses over your skin, the brokenness of his voice bringing fresh tears to your eyes as well.

You don’t know how long you stay tangled together like this, just holding each other, but Vander leans back suddenly, looking at you with so much adoration that it makes you want to scream. “Hi,” he mumbles, petting your hair softly, his other hand drawing circles on your back.

You start pressing soft kisses all over his face, not being able to contain your affection, and he closes his eyes, laughing giddily, the deep sound traveling over your skin, spreading warmth everywhere. God, you’ve missed this, missed him. “Hi.” you mutter, pressing one last kiss at the corner of his mouth.

His puffy eyes glance down at your lips, “Can I-”

“Please.”

He kisses you.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters

Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.

*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove

Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.

"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."

Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.

"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."

Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.

"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."

Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.

"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"

Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.

"We need you... We need you..."

Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.

"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."

Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.

"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."

Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.

"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"

[http-tokki]

when Satoru tells you to turn around mid-make-out session, he does not expect to find you crawling onto the bed on your hands and knees, hand slipped beneath the hem of your panties in an attempt to push them aside.

"What are you doing, angel?" genuine curiosity and concern fill his tone, brow raised at your immediate position switch. "I don't- why?"

You look over your shoulder, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open as if you had just been caught sneaking cookies in the middle of the night and not as if you had just automatically assumed he was going to fuck you like that.

Had he given you that impression?

Satoru was so careful to avoid giving you that idea with gentle touches and slow, loving kisses against your skin, requests whispered against your collarbone and sealed with a soft peck. He wasn't expecting you to assume the position.

"Do you not want-?" your voice is small, dejection evident.

Gojo tilts his head before realising. "Baby, no!"

Your face falls and Satoru scrambles to clarify his intention for the position change.

" I don't want to fuck you like that, well I do but not right now. Actually yes now but not in this second," He scrambles and trips over the words, desperate to assure you it was not whatever you were beginning to think about. "I want to fuck you. Always. In any position but that's not why I asked you to turn around."

You're nodding at his explanation, sinking to your knees and removing the hand from your panties but the confusion still creased your forehead. Gojo feels silly explaining his reason like he’s sixteen again but he needed you to know that’s not what he was expecting.

"I just wanted to take your bra off.”

[connorsui]

Meh meh meh whatever sylus is the type of husband to watch all of his cum drip out of you… one hundred percent like …

Watching his load drip from your tight pussy would awaken a primal urge within him. Like, He could stare at your swollen pussy for hours, coated in your wetness and his cum, as you moan and spread your legs for him.

"Stay still, sweetheart"

His large hands would grip your thighs, spreading you wider. As You gasp as his thumbs brush your sensitive folds, still swollen and tender— He leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your most intimate areas.

"Good. You’re perfect, kitten" he growls possessively before dipping his head to lap at the mingled fluids.

You cry out at the sensation of his tongue, overwhelmed by the lewd sounds and sight of him devouring his own spend from your quivering pussy.

Hearing nothing else but Sylus groans against you.

[ohimsummer]

satoru would grow to be one of those old people who die of heartbreak after you pass away :< not even a full year after your death and he’s following you straight to the grave :<<<

the house is all empty and quiet, he doesn’t do much anymore (he wasn’t anyway with his older age, but even less so now that you’ve died). satoru wakes up in the morning and it takes him a minute to get up before he just sits, stiff and lonely on his side of the bed, staring at his feet and dreading the start of another day. he wishes he could do his morning routine with you again.

he gets something small to eat like cereal because usually you were the one making the pancakes and eggs and sausages (sometimes he would “help”. aka sneak tastes of breakfast until you chased him away with a wooden spoon). he is silent as he eats, staring at your empty chair across from him at the table.

satoru sits quietly in the living room trying to distract himself with movies and tv shows (that you used to watch together. some he will now have to finish without you) and he ends up wasting another day doing nothing but trying not to think of you. at night, he prepares for bed, wishing he could do his nightly routine with you again, too, and then he lays down in a cold bed with a heavy sigh. and satoru cries himself to sleep.

him visiting your grave