#RIP but I would still smash

[aesthetic-bbyg]

WHY IS EVERYBODY FROM NARCOS SO FUCKING FINE???🗣️🗣️🗣️

[woosh-floosh]

(read left to right) I had to make a comic version of this moment form the fanbook because it's such a funny image

Fantranslation is by @wireddd1 on twitter!

[transurgender]

i wish i was better at character analysis because like. kabru (dunmeshi) and enrico (gayepo) are such similar characters it makes me want to Bite someone but the moment i try to explain how i feel my brain just gets fuckin fried. i think about either of them for 0.5 seconds and i explode on the spot

[todayisafridaynight]

Soooo why do you have the crack ship of Ryo and Daigo?

i see two ex-emo nepo babies and i think they should kiss and play mind games with each other

[toji-bunny-girl]

Toji with a puppy girl👀

Nah cuz puppy!reader…x wolf!toji‼️⁉️ GOODBYE YALL🫡

Alright imagine wolf cop!Toji and puppy!reader who accidentally got caught speeding and acting all fidgety and nervous when he made her roll her window down. Wolf cop!Toji’s leaning against your car door, merely asking for your driver’s license and you’re already shaking in your seat.

The first thing you did was trying to explain why you were speeding just a little, to buy some heat suppressants and Toji could see that you weren’t lying about that. Puppy girl is all sweaty, your eyes are droopy with indecipherable lust and your aromal pheromones were begging him to breed you. He is a servant of the law, supposedly having to be professional on his job, but fuck did he want to help you with your heat.

He doesn’t know the extent of his self-control and he has no interest in testing it today—so he promptly sends puppy off with a warning, he’d better not catch you speeding again.

The next time he saw puppy was a few seasons later—when he was passing by an alley on the way home from dinner with the chief. There was a little yelp of desperation, and what seemed to be someone calling for help. He could smell the scent fraught and despair, along with a familiar whiff of feminine pheromones.

Stalking into the tenebrous alleyway, he found you cowering all scared over the corner, ears back and tail between your legs as a hooded male prowled closer to you. 

Without much thinking, Toji hauled the male away from you, smashing his frame against the wall before locking his hands behind his back. 

The man tried to fight back but it was all simply in futile. He could try all he want but Toji would still have him subjugated under his strength. Ripping the hoodie off of him, and as his features were described; it was the serial rapist around your area. 

“Oi!” he called for your attention, sobbing as you shut your thighs tight together. “Get my phone outta my pocket.”

You did as you’re told, dialling the number he chanted aloud and soon the cops were there to bring the male under custody. 

“Thank you for saving me, sir,” you spoke to the intimidatingly huge wolf. And Toji returned with a terse ‘welcome’, noting the crimson blush you wore underneath your cheeks and your strong intoxicating scent; it made his head heavy and the world seemed to whirled in his sight. 

“Yer’ alright?” his voice was comfortingly deep, the grizzly pitch scratching the nerves in your ears. You’re practically sweating, and acting like how you were the first time he saw you. “Why are you out here alone this late?”

“I was going to get some heat suppressants and my car was getting fixed. So I had to walk…” you embarrassingly cried. Fuck, he swore in his head, not again. The officers were busy with the rapist bastard and letting you continue your walk alone seemed unsafe. So, he’d better send you back as quickly as possible and get on his merry way home. 

Or so he thought. 

“Please, please, please…!” you tearily whined, rubbing yourself against his knee, nose buried deep in his neck, breathing in his manly essence. Toji was beating back a groan, your scent punching his nostrils and messing up his heartbeat. He was supposed to drive you home, and somehow you’re straddled on top of him just as he has reached your home.

“Hey—”

“It hurts s’much, sir!” you’ve balled his shirt into your fist, staring at him with those wet puppy eyes. It’s your hormones against his instincts, and he has to put himself under control no matter what. “The toys are no use, I can’t do it anymore!”

“Where’s ya suppressant?” Toji sighed as he rummaged through your bag, his thigh began to dampen and the bulge in his pants pumped against the restraints of his brief as it grew in size. You didn’t manage to buy it, did you?

“Please, save me,” your voice broke as you cried, desperation oozing out of your eyes along with your tears. He could feel your pulse through his pants and your drenched panty, and fuck were you pushing him towards the edge of his limits. “It’s just this once, please…!”

Your words were the breaking point that wrenched the very last of his self-control out of his wavering self. But rules are still rules, and he worked quickly to call his partner, instructing him to help log out of his shift system for him. You were practically all over him when the phone call ended, your little teeth nipping and licking over his saliva-coated neck.

“Bad girl,” Toji clicked his tongue, his voice was low, almost predatory with a growl. You let out a yelp when he grabbed your face, forcing your head to the side as to expose the supple skin of your neck. It wasn’t fair for you to mark him without expecting him to imprint on you. Especially when you’d let out your adorable gasps as he sunk his sharp teeth into your flesh, your skin threatening to break and blood ready to flow under the subjugation of his canines.

He would only learn more of the sound you’d make when he pressed a finger against your pulsing clit through your embarrassingly wet panty, teasing and rolling your bud until your body shook and voice begged him to touch you more.

You were all he could smell and hear, his mind and body nearly drunk off of your pheromones that bubbled into the sizzling hot air. And it took the rest of a pathetic amount of restrain left in him not to eat you whole. He would have to compromise on the honey that seemed to coat your skin, sucking and biting the sweetness off of you.

Your gasps turned to whines when he stuffed a finger into your heat, a single digit of his large enough to please your squeezing cunt. But he expected you to take more than that, stretching out your slick-dripped pussy with two of his thick fingers. Your cavern squelched as he slipped them in and out of you, your head growing heavy and your eyesight turning hazy.

“Feel so—nnh, good…!” you slurred through the pleasure that shook your nerves. Your movements did nothing but agitated the bulge in his trousers, and Toji hated being edged of all things. So he had your wrists bounded by his cuffs, your arms raised above his head and your motions then restricted to your hips as you buckled them from the tingles in your core.

Toji smirked through one of the bite he was marking on your chest when he pumped his digits in and out of your sloppy cunt faster, his thumb reaching your clit and stimulating both of them at the same time. You burst into heightened cries as you felt your orgasm coming close, your hips rolling with his thick fingers as they curled over the gummy part of your wall, your eyes rolling to the back of head as pressure started building in your core.

“Mmnh—I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!” you repeated into a chant, your features twisting to his enjoyment as he watched you come undone from his mere fingers.

From the look of it, Toji knew you haven’t had enough. You were at the height of your heat, any coherence long melted into your innate desires to mate, for hours at least. You tried to free yourself from the cuff he’d locked you in, your eyes raking over his body down to the pumping size in his pants, a spot of pre-cum damp from your doings.

“Please, sir…” you whined through your adorable doe eyes, your craving for his cock to fill your cunt catching up to your limit. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Toji smirked, nipping the end of your sensitive ear, causing you to shudder from his touch. He loved the fact that he doesn’t have to ask for you to beg for him, his animalistic ego stroked by your adorable neediness.

Your eyes nearly popped out when you watched him unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to release his fat cock, veiny and pulsing and ready to pump you full. You were almost too eager to fit him inside of you, your hips sinking down a little too quickly. But Toji was quicker to grab you before you hurt yourself. You were already well prepared, your body releasing all the hormones necessary but still, you were built a little too small for him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Toji chuckled as you wriggled in his hold. Just as he thought, your lips paused open when he slowly sank you halfway down his length, his thick cock pushing against the wall of your tummy, a little bump from the shape of his bulging from the inside of your stomach.

The both of you swore underneath your breaths, and you threw your head back when Toji started shifting into your hips. You were so damn tight and warm and wet that his carnal need to breed hit him like a fucking truck.

His jaw clenched as he forced his whole length into your pulsing hole, your eyebrows furrowed and teeth sunk into your bottom lip from how full you felt. Your breaths left your mouth as dragged moans when Toji began to draw his hips out and into your weeping cunt, slow but deep.

His thumb drew circles upon your hardened clit once again, attempting to ease your clenching hole but it did nothing but tightened your grip around his girth. “You gotta relax, pup,” he groaned into the sultry air, and you cried as you shook your head.

“M’ can’t! Please!” you mewled, rolling your hips for the least bit of friction, itching to ease the tingle between your thighs.

“Fuck,” Toji growled as tears of frustration began forming in your eyes. You weren’t the only one starved for sex, he’s been holding on for so long just not to hurt you. But you’re an eager one, can’t even wait for his cock to start moving and you’re sniffling your tears aback. “You better not regret this,” he clicked his tongue before drawing his hips back, slamming them up into your weeping cunt.

The car shook from the force and a scream lodge itself in your throat, your pussy ached with his cock dragging against your walls, and a pulsing warmth began to swarm all over your belly. “Haah—it’s s’good!” you mumbled unsteadily, your back arching into him and eyes turning crossed.

“I need you to be, shit—clearer, sweet.”

“Your cock f-feel s’good, sir!” you could feel the way Toji twitched inside of you, his pace relentless and rough. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the crack of the pressure in your core, and your released gushed all over his lap and car seat, the scent of your essence making his head heavy.

He doesn’t stop even when your lips spewed nothing but rambles, your drool slipping down your chin and onto your marked chest. Instead, he began to fuck himself into you, harder and faster. Your thighs shook for the way his cock spurred up your insides, it was as if he was trying to bring you apart then and there.

Toji bellowed out a low growl as his nails sank into the flesh on your hips, using your body like a fleshlight and messing up your sore cunt. Your slick cavern hugged his cock tight as he twitched, the nerves on his tip dancing upon the fire of pleasure before you feel a rope of his velvety semen paint your insides white, a wave of orgasm crushing down over you soon after.

You’re too drunk and dumb off his cock to stop him, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and tongue idly lolling out. Toji had spent too much of his time enveloped in your mating pheromones, his hormones raging all over his body, twisting the levels until he was down to nothing but a hulking body of a male intending to impregnate.

Unbeknownst to you, it would take days for a wolf’s rut to wear off.

[quirkycritters]

Game Night: CHAIN ATTACK!!!

i am,,, withering away but ITS DONE ITS DONE IM FREE FROM THE CURSE (<<< still haunted by wips) clocking in at 32+ hours, this sucker has been getting pushed around for 10 months-

while theres some things i would have done differently if i could redo this from scratch, i still had a BLAST cramming in as much detail as i could tolerate >:) some highlights / cut ideas / ramblings are below the cut, but please zoom for details! (if tumblr doesnt shred it to bits)

gonna be real i locked so hard onto drawing ripped jeans that i forgot i could have just shoved legend into a skirt and called it a day

SOCKS. SOCKS. the amount of Joy anytime i figured out how to personalize them with game references: legend (hibiscus), twilight (ordon goats), and four (force gems)

i WAS going to put time in a turtleneck, but had an epiphany and started digging for the most obnoxious hawaiian shirts i could find,,, ft. a sea flower (wind waker) and a saturation boosted plumm (twilight princess)!

yeah so warriors got the sweater instead of the skintight shirt, sorry gang

speaking of if i ever say im going to draw a cableknit sweater again, somebody PLEASE shake some sense into me- warriors sweater was a NIGHTMARE since my art program has an astonishing lack of good brushes (and yet here i am still using it)

MOST of the text has been modified using the twilight princess cipher because yeah. i was procrastinating shading. also the other ciphers were in japanese- times shirt is cropped, but reads "its 5 oclock somewhere"

winds lobster shirt :) that is all i just think its neat

wilds jacket :) link w(ild) 2017, aka the release year of botw

jewelry! sky has the fireshield earrings, and wild has the amber earrings~ could barely squeeze the bombos and quake medallions onto legend, and wind got the joy pendant

hyrule :D embroidery on his sweatpants because i was struck by whimsy- also i 100% thought his shield was purple tinted for weeks while drawing this because the page i used as reference was set at night, and i was originally basing his sweater on his shield- scrapped the cross pattern after several failed attempts but kept the color ^^

the chips are bbq because im biased (reads "crisps" in twilight princess cipher for no real reason except whimsy)

bless my dearest homie for game reccs because the og plan was to have them all be loz games! titles include wii sports resort, elebits, super mario party, smash bros ultimate, just dance 2016 (its box art is colorful ok), and myth makers orbs of doom (I HATE THIS GAME WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, as i should, anyways i should play it again). four is suggesting orbs of doom, buddy aint even playing,,,

kinda was hoping to play around with hair colors and skin tones a bit more, but again, see the hour count- ill get em next time surely,,, also blue vs violet eyes for legend already had me in decision paralysis

the whole gang was gonna have friendship bracelets with color combos based on dynamics i found neat but oops! didnt finish the layer :')

thats a wrap! didnt yap about everything but im curious what yall catch onto- anyways surely ive learned something about biting off more than i can chew (<<< lying liar who lies)

[amourane]

hate the way you smile

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??

w/c: 4.7k

summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.

warnings: none just a lot of bickering

a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!

From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.

Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.

Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.  At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face. 

Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.

“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!” 

At least so you thought.

You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years. 

“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?” 

Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by. 

“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.

“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”

You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.

“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”

You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.

“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal. 

Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.

Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.

Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.

Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed. 

Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.

“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.

“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”

Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.

“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”

“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.

//

This was so not your day. 

Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due. 

You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there. 

It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.

“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”

Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.

“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”

It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.

You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence

“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”

“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”

You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”

Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”

“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”

“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”

You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”

A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke. 

His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.

“What are you doing here?” 

If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.

“Detention obviously.”

“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."

“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is.”

“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.

He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"

As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.

"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."

Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.

//

It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did. 

There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.

That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.

“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.

You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients. 

You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.

“Theo-”

"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"

His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. 

Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.

You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens? 

Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.

Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.

“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”

You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”

“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”

You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.

The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime. 

Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re awake.”

The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”

“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”

He stayed silent allowing you to continue.

“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”

As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features. 

“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”

You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.

“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”

A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes. 

“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”

You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.

“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”

Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”

“I will.” 

Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.

“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”

Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.

“At least you look pretty-”

Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.

“-when you cry…”

You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.

“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.

“Shut it.”

“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.

“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”

Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.

“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.

Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face. 

"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."

“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.

“Aren’t I just?” 

You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[lady-lauren]

❥ SATORU GOJO X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.1k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: incest (big brother/little sister), hatefucking, degradation, Satoru's hand smothering your mouth, some dub-con tones but really you both want this fucked up situation, semi-public sex (the door isn't closed and it really should be), creampie

Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read those warnings again.

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

You’ve always eclipsed his light. A stain on his legacy, a re-shifting of the scales when you were born.

Always on his heels, nipping at his skin. 

Satoru wonders how many times the two of you have tangled like this—fury and jealousy, adults carrying the bitterness of spoiled children.

“Are you even trying?” 

You’re pinned beneath him, both of you wild and uncoordinated, driven more by emotion than immeasurable skills. 

“Fighting dirty isn’t fair, ‘Toru,” your tits are heaving as you try to catch your breath, hips squirming and bucking to keep mean fingers from playing with the one toy he was never allowed to have.

“Excuses, excuses,” he tuts, bicep flexing as he catches your wrist in an attempt to scratch his cheek, “you like when I play dirty, little whore.”

One step away from a tense family dinner had him cornering you in some tucked away office with your dress bunched around your hips on the floor.

Satoru thought fucking you would depredate you, make you take on the burden of his sins. Instead it’s only wrecked him further. Now he tastes you in the back of his cheeks whenever he looks in the mirror.

God he hates you. Because you make him sick, make him do sick, nasty things and you barely try to fight back. 

“It’s like you want to get fucked by your brother, hm?” he thinks aloud before pressing his mouth against yours. He cups your neck, pulls you closer, pays attention to how you grunt and tug at his shirt. Your nails catch buttons, scratch into skin. 

He shouldn’t kiss you here, where any roaming maid or distant cousin could catch a glimpse of what the Gojos do when no one is looking. 

But he’s at a point where he wants people to look, wants people to see just how fucked up you both are.

“Toru,” you hiss, “stop, get off—”

“Oh shut the fuck up. We don’t have time for the but ~Satoru~ we shouldn’t song and dance. You always let me have you, so be quiet and take it.” 

Still, you fight, like you always do. Your toned muscles push and shove, one leg nearly smashing air from his lungs. He catches your calf in time, insatiably mean fingers digging into your soft flesh and forcing your thighs apart. He can tell you bite back a whine of pain, too prideful to let him know when he hurts you.

“You cannot do this here in the fucking floor of—” 

“Really? Would you rather me take you to your old bedroom so you can cuddle your stuffies while big brother fucks you stupid? Hm? Is that what you want?” 

“What I want,” you try to pull his hair like a child, “is for you to find someone else to be obsessed with. What about Sugu? Oh, that’s right you—”

Just the sound of that name makes him want to rip you apart, smash you to such small pieces that he’ll never have to think of you again. Satoru clamps his hand over your babbling mouth, squeezing until his knuckles turn white and you actually whimper.

He’s going to fuck you into the floor, into oblivion, until all you can think about is him. It’s only fair. 

Satoru keeps the pressure on your mouth, forcing his free hand between your spread thighs so he can shove two long fingers into your cunt. Your panties are soaked around the edges of his knuckles, pussy drooling and squishy as he thrusts and scissors in the way he knows will make your eyes roll. 

“You sure are wet for someone who doesn’t want this.” 

He knows you do. You don’t have to tell him—you probably never will say the exact words aloud. He won’t either. 

You roll your hips back as he fingers you, the dress around your hips falling open like wilting petals against your skin. 

The palm of his hand eats your moans, still small and breathy, desperate to feel more than just the squelching spread of his fingers. 

He wants to punish you, wants to bruise your pussy with his knuckles and make you scream. But he doesn’t have that kind of patience. His cock is smothered in his pants, straining and thumping against the floor. Pre is already leaking into threads; he feels another drop bead against his cockhead as your cunt squeezes when he curls his fingers into a spongy spot that makes you buck.

It’s so wrong and fucked up that he knows that soft spot within you, knows that if he rubs it a few more times it might actually make you cum in his hand.

“God, is your slutty cunt this messy for other guys? Such a fucking pain in the ass—you’re gonna stain the rug.”

Only he loves how easy access your slick makes you. Just a few movements—glossy hand down his pants, shoving the waistband down over his ass, plugging his tip into your hole—and he can thrust his cock all the way to the back of your pussy. 

You manage to bite into the side of his palm, canines pressing into sinew as you weep for him.

Fuck you feel so good, too good, tight and full with the most familiar, decadent squeeze around his thick shaft.

“Pull your tits out,” white lashes flutter as he pushes in, out, “lemme see ‘em.” 

Like always, your fight is gone the moment he’s buried in your cunt. Your hands scramble to obey him, nearly ripping the delicate straps of your dress so you can pull it down, breasts falling on display. Satoru keeps his eyes on the bouncing fat, biting his tongue when your nipples harden into the most delicious looking buds.

You muffle a cry at a particular cruel thrust, legs starting to burn and shake from the weight of his hips between them. Your lips are swelling behind his hand, sloppy with drool. 

Satoru shifts back, getting on his knees so he can curl your leg against your bare chest and worm his way to the very depths of your pussy. The sound is lewd, all wet and gushing, each push of skin on skin making him prickle.

His keen senses perk—footsteps in the hallway, voices through the wall. Dinner guests shuffling about in the absence of the prodigal siblings. 

Your eyes flash toward the cracked door, yet the little ah, ah, ah~ behind his palm won’t quit.

“Yeah? You want someone to find us? Want them to see how your big brother pounds into your guts because he can? Because you’re a little fucking slut who lets me?”

The annoyance that flares to life as your gaze returns to him has his balls tightening. You hate that he gets the best of you. This is the one way he can, by making you weak and wet and willing for his cock.

Satoru presses his hand to your belly, presses in deep and hard until the heel of his hand meets the outline of his dick. 

“Feel that? Feel how fucking full you are with my cock?” 

He uses strength he couldn’t on anyone else, barreling his hips until you’re moving back on the floor, rug scrunching beneath your bodies as he pounds into you so recklessly. 

You whine, actively try to bite his hand, to suck his skin, to hurt him. 

“Oh please, you can take it. You’re a Gojo.”

That reminder makes you both groan, your cunt sucking as his cock swells. 

He wonders for a split moment what really draws you together. Lust? Failed parenting? Some mutual sense of rebellion? All of it, probably, and some other sick, twisted shit laced in between. 

Your little fingers start prying at his over your mouth, clawing and plucking his knuckles. 

He shows a little mercy and releases his hold on you, only to clamp both hands down on your hips so he can fix your pace and build a faster rhythm. 

You suck in a deep breath, “Kiss me.” 

A pale brow quirks at your request, smirk tugging at his cheek. 

“Really? And why should I? Thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Oh my, ah, god, Toru, I ask for one nice thing. Just,” you reach for him, gripping onto his flexing biceps and pulling him down, “just do it, for me.”

He was always going to oblige you. He hates admitting it, but he’d kiss you all the time, if you’d let him. 

Satoru’s lips meet yours with a bruising fervor. 

Your hand tugs in his snowy hair, drags him closer. Your mouth moves against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, neither of you really know. All he does know is that you still taste the same, like home, and he wants your breath in his lungs.

He is a snake, wrapping around you, suffocating, crushing until you can’t breathe anything but the poison he spits.

Your mouth slants for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as your stomach starts to get tight, tell-tell pulls and sucks like you’re begging him to keep stroking the flames.

“You’re so spoiled, aren’t you,” he groans into your mouth, lips messy with spit, “you gonna cum just from my cock? Do I fuck you that good?”

“God, sh-shove that fat cock deep and cum inside me—”

Your demand makes his blood run hot. 

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, maniacal and oh so satisfied. “You’re spoiled fucking rotten. That’s what mommy and daddy did to you, spoiled you so fucking much you think you deserve everything. Even me.”

Because you started this, didn’t you? When you got old enough to be so fucking tempting in your twenties, started flirting with his friends and batting your pretty eyes at all the higher-ups. When you got strong enough to match him, to take up space in his light.

“Fuck you,” you purr like you’re trying to mean it, like you’re trying to deny him. “Hate you so fucking, ah, god–shit—” he’s got your clit pinched between his fingers now, pressing until he knows it hurts, “make me cum and let me go.”

White hair spreads into the sweat of your skin as he buries his face in your neck. He’s so close to losing it, to being done with this.

“I’ll do one of those things. Let you figure out which one.”

Satoru grinds his cock into your gummy walls, cock strangled in your suction. His pelvis is rolling against your clit, coarse curls making your legs twitch. 

The moment he gets his thumb over your clit, it’s like dropping a match into gasoline. You both burn so hot, melting into one another as he explodes and you convulse. No matter how many times he feels you cum, hears you whisper his name and choke on the three little words you never say, he will never get used to it. 

So familiar and foreign and fucked up, the kind of drug that scratches at his brain and begs from more. 

He empties his balls into you, creaming into a cunt he should never touch let alone fill to the brim. 

You’ve never told him he can’t, that he shouldn’t. You both know it’s abhorrent, disgusting, but maybe that’s why you keep letting him do it. 

He’ll still watch you take your morning pill, though, just to make sure.

Your bodies lie panting in a forgotten corner of the home you both hate, the scent of sex rolling in the air like smoke.

“Get off me and go.” 

Shame is wavering in your voice, it always does. He can understand why you feel it—he does too, he just morphs it into some kind of wicked hatred so he can still sleep at night. 

“One last ~kiss~?” He mocks your voice and revels in how you claw your way out from under him, trying to pull yourself back together and catch the cum dribbling down your thigh. 

“Fuck you. Fuck this. It won’t happen again.” 

And it shouldn’t. But it does. It always happens again. 

Because he wants to hurt you, shame you, make you feel weak in his arms when you shatter and cum. Because he hates how much he loves you. So he wants to crush you, wrap around you like a viper and pop you out of existence. 

His life would be so much easier if he didn’t have a spoiled brat of a sister. 

You make him want to eat his fist when you swipe his cum from between your legs and put your fingers in your mouth, smiling because you know he’ll return to dinner with a tent in his pants. 

You live to torture him, he’s sure of it. 

[azmageddon]

I Can't Lose Him (Part Three)

Pairing: Ariel x Cassian's twin!healer!reader

Summary: Finally, Ariel wakes up.

Warning: Painfully inaccurate to the original storyline.

a/n: Part three of I Can't Lose Him! Let me know if you'd like to hear more about the pair!

The commotion in the tent gets louder as you rush toward it. There’s an argument happening inside, and the sound of shattering glass reaches your ears. It isn’t until you hear Nesta shout at Azriel to “Sit down!” that you realize you’ve left the two most stubborn fae in all of Prythian alone together. 

When you whip the tent flap open, you’re met with a dizzying scene. 

Azriel, leg still splinted straight and right arm bandaged tightly to his torso, has a white knuckle grip on the wooden chair beside the bed. It groans under the pressure as he puts all of his weight on it to help him stand. Nesta, however, is attempting to form a human shield, with two hands splayed on his chest, attempting to push him back down to the bed.

“Damn it, Azriel, sit down! You’re half dead; do you want to be all dead?” Nesta pushes with all of her strength, but even injured, centuries of training is not lost on the Shadowsinger as he refuses to be forced down. Clearly, the two have not heard you enter the tent, as their arguing only continues.

“Tell me where she is, Nesta,” Azriel hisses through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the pain that you’re sure is ravaging his body.

“Y/N is going to kill you herself when she finds you out of bed. Plus you’ve smashed the pain tonic. Now for the last time: Sit. Down. Right. Now.” Nesta pushed with each word, anger lacing her voice, but still, your mate would not relent.

“I don’t care if Cassian is with her, tell me where she is. Knowing him, she’s probably worse off than being alone.”

“What is going on in here?” you shout, rushing to Azriel’s side. “Are you insane, Az? Sit down before you rip your stitches out!” 

Both Nesta and Azriel instantly stop their arguing at the sound of your voice. The hazel eyes that meet yours were ablaze with worry and confusion, but instantly soften to relief when he sees you. 

“Thank the gods,” Nesta said, dropping her arms to her sides and stepping away from Azriel. “You have the most possessive and unreasonable mate in existence.”

“Oh, like yours is any better,” you joke, convincing Azriel to at least sit on the side of the bed for the time being.

If Nesta was affected at all by your words, she didn’t let on, her face as neutral as ever. “He’s not my mate,” she deadpanned. 

You felt a smile working its way into your mouth and you quickly turned away so she wouldn’t see. “Sure he isn’t, Nesta,” you replied, amused by both her’s and your brother’s blatant ignorance. You winked at Azriel, hoping to lighten the mood and reference the countless times the two of you had whispered about Nesta and Cassian. But your attempt at making the joke was met with a look of displeasure from your mate. 

“Are you going to tell me where you were? Why did you swear Nesta to secrecy?” Azriel interjected, his eyes boring into you with frustration and pain.

You signed. “Honestly, I’d rather not,” you replied, pushing his dark hair away from his sweat soaked forehead. 

“Rhys and Cassian took her to Devlon’s tent to heal him.”

“What?!” Azriel made to stand again but you pushed him back down with one hand on each shoulder. Centuries of training hadn’t been lost on you either, despite your exhaustion.

“Nesta!”

“See you later,” she said, fake innocence in her voice as revenge for calling Cassian her mate. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and spun away to leave, pushing the tent flaps open and closed with more force than seemed necessary. 

“Why would you do that for Devlon?” Azriel asked, eyes roaming over you for signs of the Lord of Windhaven and his less than respectful approach to Illyrian females. 

“Relax, Az, he barely tolerated me near him, let alone him wanting to touch me.” You took this opportunity to get Azriel back into bed, swinging his legs up and helping him reposition himself. “Besides, Cassian and Rhys were with me. Cassian almost ripped his head off for much less.”

He chose not to respond, instead closing his eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.

“Why didn’t you take the pain tonic I left for you?” you asked, already knowing the answer. It was at your feet, the bottle shattered in a million pieces and the liquid seeping into the dirt floor. 

“I’m fine,” was his only response. Stupid, prideful, Illyrian baby, you thought.

Digging through your medical bag, you found another tonic and touched it to his lips, encouraging him to drink. But the moment you brought it to his mouth, he pulled his head away, refusing to drink it.

“Don’t make me force feed you, Az. I need to check your stitches,” you warned, hoping it would convince him to drink it.

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid, it will help you.”

“Why did you close your side of the bond?” he asked, opening his eyes and cocking an eyebrow in your direction. You were taken aback by the sudden change in topic. You turned away and placed the tonic on the side table with a quiet clink before sitting on the side of the bed, admitting defeat.

“I didn’t want you to know where I was in case you woke up. I know how much you hate Devlon. But obviously that didn’t work out as I planned.” 

“You never close your side of the bond. I thought something had happened to you. And then when I woke up, Nesta was there, not you. She refused to tell me where you were or what happened. I tried to reach out, but you were completely closed off to me. I thought… I thought something…” he stopped, his good arm flying up to the stitches on his side and hissing in pain.

You reached for the pain tonic, and this time, you gripped his chin and tipped it inside his mouth. “Drink it,” you demanded. With a swift bob of his Adam’s apple and quick dart of his tongue across his bottom lip, you were satisfied.

The two of you sat quietly for a few moments, Azriel’s confession laying heavily in the air between you. After what felt like forever, you knew you were going to have to be the one to break the silence. Azriel was, afterall, a spymaster for a reason.

“I was scared,” you admitted, dropping your gaze to your hands. “You fell 200 feet out of the sky. When you were first hurt, I thought I was going to lose you. And then you were screaming. I had never heard that sound come out of you before in my entire life. I had both my arms inside your chest, Az. I had to cut you open while you screamed for me to stop. I couldn’t be your mate in those moments; I couldn’t hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright. I couldn’t send comfort through the bond. At that moment, all I could do was scream at Cassian to hold you still while I butchered you.” You turned your hands over and stared at your palms, remembering the blood you had to wash off of them after you had finished putting him back together. “I had both my hands inside your chest,” you repeated, trailing off into a whisper.

“You promised me,” you continued, allowing the vulnerability to become present in your voice. Your eyes were rimmed with wetness as you thought of how close to death your mate had been. “You promised you’d come back to me.”

“Technically,” Azriel started, reaching a scarred hand up to brush a piece of hair out of your face. He cupped your cheek and pulled your gaze away from your hands and back to his eyes. The mountains and valleys of his scarred skin felt comforting and familiar. “Technically, I kept my promise. There were just a few bumps along the way.”

You blinked, letting out a weak laugh and let the tears flow over. You leaned your forehead to his and closed your eyes, inhaling his familiar scent. Opening your side of the bond, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you from him. Love and appreciation filled your soul, spreading from the center of your chest where the golden thread that connected the two of you were joined. 

 “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Azriel said, lacing his fingers through your hair and holding you to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that, soaking in the rare time alone together. It wasn’t until he shifted in the bed again that you pulled back, wiping your tears and getting up to check on how he was healing. 

“Oh gods,” Azriel groaned. “I feel like the morning after Cassian’s birthday at Rita’s.”

You let out a laugh, still choked with leftover tears, but felt yourself send a jolt of amusement through the bond unintentionally. 

“Hey! That’s my birthday too, you know,” you joked, unwrapping the splint that held his leg tightly in place. His fae healing truly was remarkable. You were able to bend his leg up to his chest, still being careful of the damaged lung and healing stitches underneath the dressing wrapped around his torso. 

“Yeah but you’re not the one insisting I keep drinking.” He grunted through the stretches, allowing you to rotate his hip out, around, and back a few times. 

You shrugged, a smile spreading across your face. “No one ever said you had to drink them. You could just dump them and tell Cassian they were delicious.”

His eyes narrowed at the suggestion. “And is that what you do? Because I seem to remember that for the past few centuries, you've been roaring drunk on your birthday. Last year you refused to come home with me because you thought I was a random stranger trying to pick you up for a one-night-stand.”

You threw your head back in a boisterous laugh, remembering how you woke up with a horrible hangover and found Azriel asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed. A smile spread across your mate’s face at the sight of your joy, despite your fingers massaging deep into the tissues of his leg to work out any lingering pain. 

You worked your thumbs into the muscles of his thigh and swore the moan of relief that left Azriel’s lips stirred something deep in your belly. You shook the feeling off and kept going. 

“Should I mention some of the times you’ve drank too much? How about that time Rhys kept buying you shots and you kissed me in front of all of Rita’s, almost blowing our secret of nearly 300 years?”

Azriel smiled and you felt the memory wash across the bond. The vision of you giving into the kiss before hastily reminding yourself that your match was supposed to be a secret, played in your mind. Thankfully Cassian, the only other person besides you and Azriel that knew about the mating bond, faked the possessive brother act, pushing Azriel off of you and dragging him outside where, instead of telling him off like everyone thought, had actually dunked his head in the icy barrel of rainwater to help him work off the alcohol. 

You gasped in surprise and shook your head to clear your mind of Azriel’s memory. “You never told me he dunked you underwater. No wonder why you came back soaking wet. Cassian said you fell face first into the Sidra!”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Of course he did, that bastard.” 

After a quick peek at the stitches along his left flank and a thorough stretching of his right shoulder, you flopped yourself onto the bed beside him. Exhaustion washed over you again and you felt Azriel’s concern flood your senses. You ignored it, instead choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and close your eyes. Shuffling closer to your mate, you came as close as you dared without worrying about hurting him. 

You felt a scarred hand thread through your hair to scratch at your scalp. A pair of lips touched your forehead and your mate’s voice sounded deep in your ears. “Sleep, love. I’ll be right here.”

Without another word, you fell headfirst into a deep, undisturbed sleep.  

[messenger-of-babel]

Always Late

Summary: Batman was late when you needed him the most, but he refused to let it happen again. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 4.5K (This was supposed to be a quick fic 💀)

Notes: BIG AUTHOR NOTE INCOMING Before anyone comes for me- I know this was supposed to be a day for Chris. I'm just feeling a touch sick but still want to get a fic out, and I'm currently not able to churn out and go through his, so I'll write some Chris later! Instead I wanted something else, consider it a change up to shake some life back into the theme. I also rambled hella long on this one, so strap in, it's long and the plot got lost in the maze of my mind. I had to shuffle things around and it just kept growing and growing, oh my god so I hope it makes sense to everyone still. Clark caemo, some (very??) OOC villain work cause I forgot some of my original plot and villains so begging on my knees for forgiveness fr. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/ TORTURE DESCRPTION FOR SOME AREAS. I should have made this two parts but I messed up and made just one massive fic. Was supposed to be batfam x reader but it started feeling more like bruce x reader hahaha. RIP my sleep schedule please reap the benefits of my labour. 😭

Again I was originally here to be a resi blog but I can't help writing for DC after a day of reading comics. On that topic I actually finished collecting Tom Taylor's run at #118, my store held #119 for me so I get to read that as a reward after the hell that will be my Monday.

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When you were taken, it caused a widespread panic among Gotham.

Tabloids across the city wrote about the latest missing person, this time none other than the latest member of billionaire Bruce Wayne's family. The Gotham Gazette had been running articles about you for months already, including the scandal that had come with it. Your dirty laundry and past had been aired for the entire city to read and speculate upon. Whether Bruce had just adopted you out of pity, sympathising with the way that you had lost your parents the same way he had. Gossip about it could all be a ploy for him to expand his influence in Gotham, after the riches and estate that your family had left you behind in their untimely death. The city was thrown into chaos from the death of your parents, both of them from founding Gotham families and well-established lawyers. It was shaken more once the Wayne had taken you into his household, and now it was all but alight as you vanished.

Fingers pointed in every which way, your disappearance marking the fourth among affluent families in Gotham. Accusations had even been hurled at Bruce, claiming that he had killed you in order to gain your assets and the other missing people were to establish an alibi. After all, Bruce Wayne had no alibi for the night that you went missing.

But he had an alibi.

Bruce reflected upon that fact for three days already, while he tore his hair out trying to find you. He had been out in the city, patrolling as usual. The disappearances were the latest case, and he was determined to stop them before they continued. He had been so involved in the case, standing so close to the evidence that he didn't even consider the option that he himself would be affected, or consider the perpetrator might targe the Waynes. he hadn't expected to get a call from Alfred a little past midnight, the butler wheezing painfully into the receiver.

Blood freezing in his veins he had come home to an empty house, windows on the third story smashed in. Alfred was slumped by the phone, its sleek body hanging off the hook. Bruce had pulled the cowl off without a second thought, cradling the older man's head in his lap with shaky hands. He had relaxed slightly when there was a steady pulse under his fingers, and the tension eased further when the older man had opened his eyes.

"Alfred," Bruce had sighed out, moving the old man from his lap to against the wall, hand keeping him upright. "Are you okay-"

"They took them." came the old man's mumbled reply, and for a second Bruce's jaw just hung there.

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, panic rising once more.

"They came through the window, cut the lights. I pretended to be unconscious to use the phone line, but they came back. Cut it shortly after I rang you." the older man said, looking up with remorseful eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne." he said forlornly. "I couldn't stop them."

Bruce looked down; jaw tensed. "It wasn't your fault." he said firmly, trying to quell the despair radiating off the old man.

"They took them kicking and screaming. I could hear them the entire time, but I couldn't do anything I-"

"Alfred." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred it's okay. Let me handle it, you go make some tea." he said, helping the old man stand up.

"Tea, yes, yes that's right..." the butler murmured to himself, hand to his head. "It's been a while since you asked me for tea, sir."

"It's not for me." Bruce said, pulling the cowl back on. "It's for you. make yourself some tea and we'll patch you up. Take it easy tonight, wait for the shock to wear off."

Alfred looks at him, hesitating, but eventually nods. "We, sir?"

Bruce hums, fists at his side. "Yes. This case has escalated. It's time to request help."

He keeps his voice level as he walks away, but Alfred notes the way that he turns the corner, and the anger put into his stride.

When he gets to the cave he wastes no time, calling in everyone he can think of. His chest feels tight, breath short as his vision swims. Every signal he can send he does, the blurring in his eyes seeping into his mind too. He cradles his head in his hands, trying to calm it but to no avail. It's only when the ringing of the Batcomputer cuts through the fog that he is able to look up, shaking fingers hitting the accept call button.

"Batman?" comes the crackly voice of Nightwing, and the fog begins to clear slightly.

"Nightwing." he says back gruffly, voice hoarse.

"About time, you were making people pretty worried, you know." Dick chides, and there's the sound of yapping in the background. "What's the brief? What's happened?"

"Kidnapping." he says, voice thick. "Broke into the manor. Alfred is likely to be concussed, but it shouldn't be too serious. He's making tea, Robin is out on the other side of the city tonight. Red Robin is with you, isn't he?"

There's more shuffling on the other end before Dick responds. "Yeah, he's been helping in Bludhaven, he came last night."

"Bring him. Bring Oracle too. Everyone...come home." he murmurs, hands shaking as he tries to think clearly.

"Bruce, is everything okay with you?" Dick comes in, concern evident.

"Fine. I need people back immediately. Why?" he huffs back, rubbing the spots from his eyes with his fingers.

"Because we've all been trying to call you for the last few minutes. This is the first time you've picked up."

Bruce takes a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hadn’t realised how badly he had spaced out. "It's an emergency. They...they’re gone. They need to come home."

"The new kid?" Dick breathes. "Wait, you mean-"

Bruce nods even though he knows his eldest cannot see him. "Gone. Now come back and come back tonight." he ends the call before Dick can say anything else, and his tired eyes scan the monitor filled with a string of outgoing distress calls and an equally large number of missed ones. In his haze he had pressed every com line he had. He had pinged Jason, he had pinged Dick. Hell, he had even pinged the League and Clark, who hadn't even bothered to call for clarity, his response status just reading, 'On my way'.

He held his head in his hands, breaths laboured.

Bruce had held his own reservations when adopting you. He knew about the media uprising that it would cause, the rumours that were sure to fly. He had known what kind of mental state that would put you in, how it would angle you in a whole new world of cameras, but he couldn't help himself. He had seen you while in the suit, and maybe he had taken you in to make himself feel better. For not catching the person who had killed your parents, arriving too late. He had been training for this his entire life, it was his entire mission in Gotham, yet he couldn't stop the very crimes that had put him on this path.

If he had been faster maybe he could have saved your parents, disarming the man with the knife before it plunged into the chest of your father. Maybe he could have arrived faster so that he could have caught the offender that robbed your mother before giving her the same treatment and fleeing into the night. Instead, he was only there fast enough for him to hear you scream as your parents collapsed to the floor. He was there as you cried and shook them and tried to stop the blood spilling through your fingers, but you were unsure where to start. After all, how can someone make a decision between stopping the flow seeping from their father’s chest and the one from their mother’s throat?

He had been there to pull you away, was there to catch the last dying light of your father as he stroked your cheek before making eye contact with Bruce. "Look after my kid." he had whispered, something Bruce had nearly missed under all your screaming. Bruce pulled you away while he called for the GCPD, and from one father to another, he made sure to keep that promise.

Your relationship had been rough, clearly distraught at the way you lost your parents. You were older than he was when the same had happened, but you were still young. You had clung to Bruce the day he said he was going to take you in, and he had managed to soothe you with a soft hand up and down your back. Yet as the tabloids got worse and the gossip began to grow, you began pulling away from him and seeking the comfort of your room instead. He had done his best to protect you from the media, paying money to have articles removed and when that didn't work, he threatened to sue. It made the Gazette pull their head in a bit, but it still failed to be enough. Evidently, as there was now an empty bedroom on the third floor of the east wing.

All he could do was sigh and blink away the images of the children he had hurt, in the name of Robin or otherwise. He had to rub away the death of Jason that he reflected on in sombre moments when he thought no one was looking. He had gotten you into this mess, attached you with his name and all of its subsequent burdens. So, it was his duty to get you back and get you back safe.

Yet three days later, he had nothing.

The cave had been a buzz of activity for all three days, and Bruce, no, Batman, was acting close to a slave driver. Tim and Barbara hadn't left the caves computers in days, Damian and Steph constantly scouring the rooftops. Dick was concerned, hell, everyone was. Even the gruff Jason had been called in, and reluctantly he had answered.

"You find anything?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall with his younger brother. Jason was still suited up, coming back from the patrol around Bristol area. He removes the mask and shakes his hair free, sighing.

"Nothing. Areas come up empty. No sign of 'em."

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. "God, there's nothing on my end either. The Docks and all Southside of Gotham are clean, no traces. Any signs pointing to who it could be?"

Jason shrugs, helmet tucked under his arm. "No idea, as it stands, the kid's just gone missing. If Bruce isn't able to scrounge up a lead, I doubt I will. Not my forte. He should give Tim a break and send him out."

"Yeah, like he'll do that. He's got him tied to cave duty." Dick scoffs back. He feels bad, talking like your kidnapping was a causal affair. He didn't treat it like one, his heart stuttering when Bruce had called him in a haze and all shaken. It didn't a genius to see how attached Bruce had gotten to you in such a short amount of time, but sometimes Dick worried that Bruce was projecting his own trauma onto you. But still you were his younger sibling, a part of the family now. He had met you with a warm smile and a gentle hand the day that you moved in, coming in from Bludhaven to make the house a bit more lively while you got settled in. God, he knew what it was like moving in alone into that empty house, with only Bruce and Alfred to warm the halls. He had eaten dinner with you, took you out for walks in the garden when your grief allowed you move more than a few paces. He did his absolute best, and he knew that with time he could be a big brother to you.

Yet you hadn't been given the time, snatched away before Christmas even hit. He doubted you knew that Bruce was the Batman, or that the rest of the family had an interesting array of night lives.

Jason was the same in the way that he hadn't interacted with you much.

Honestly, he was awkward with kids, since the last kid of Bruce's he had met was the devil spawn who spat at him like an angry cat every chance he got. You were thankfully much older and easier to understand, but that still didn’t mean smooth sailing. Jason hated even coming back to the manor, and he and Bruce had been having one of their ongoing fights during the time he took you in, meaning he missed seeing you often. Yet he still talked to Dick (more so that Dick called him to make sure that he was okay) and the older man had seen you plenty. He felt like he knew you from Dick alone, but he wasn't oblivious to your story printed in the newspapers shoved under his apartment door. He pitied you, understood the grief that you must have been going through at the sudden violence that tossed your little world upside down. Sure, you had gone from luxury to luxury, but Gotham was unkind to everyone. it was the same violence that Jason strode to clean off the street, and his heart ached deep down that someone like you had managed to get caught in its claws.

"Do you think it could be the clown?" Dick asks quietly. "He'd do something as ballsy as this."

Jason tenses, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Not likely. That bastard likes to make a spectacle of things. No doubt he would have contacted the Bat the second he took the first victim or aired it like some twisted game show. It's not like him to lay quiet."

"So, it's someone else. It's unnatural for Gotham's villains to do something in the dark like this. I mean, it's been three days since they were abducted, and they're the fourth kidnap victim. There hasn't been a ransom note, a demand, a body. Not a peep for any of the captives. It's unnatural."

Jason hums in agreement, but they both jump as Bruce storms through grandfather clock entrance.

Everyone present turns, watching how Clark trails after him. Five sets of eyes watch the livid way the Bat cuts a path through the cave and gets into the batmobile, breaths too anxious to be released. Without a word the car screams out of the cave, and they all turn to Clark. Barbara casts a glance to Tim and then to Dick, who just shrugs, worry deepening on his face.

"What the hell's going on?" Jason growls, pushing off from the wall. Clark turns to face him, dressed in his Superman suit.

"We’ve found them." Clark says, face grim, and Dick shares a look with Jason. However, when Dick meets the eyes of Superman, he can see the flicker of worry in the Kryptonian. "Well let's get going then. Why did he leave alone?" Dick asked, slipping the domino mask back onto his face. Clark opens his mouth to speak but is cut off as Damian steps out behind his broad figure.

"Because it's the League." the younger boy says, green eyes boring in Dick's. "It's grandfather."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Bruce drove like his life depended on it, which wasn't fair when it was yours on the line instead. He could see the dots on his monitor indicating that the others were following him, and he had assumed that Clark had proceeded to fill them in. He had asked his old friend to look after the city while he sped towards the outskirts, just in case the League decided to do something while he had his guard on the city lowered. His com crackled to life, radio filling the otherwise silent car.

"Oi." snapped the voice of Red Hood, modulated and grainy. "Don't leave without telling us what's going on. Aren't you the one always spewing that 'feel-no-emotion' bullshit? To not let it cloud your judgement? Cause from the way I see it, you're acting kinda hazy."

"I trusted Clark would fill you in." he says back, voice tense. Red Hood scoffs.

"Yeah, and he did. You called us. You tell us what the hell you want us to help with, otherwise don't bother calling at all. Don't drag us out, get us invested then not let us help when it comes to it. What was your plan, beat the shit out of Ras and taken them back by yourself?"

Bruce falls silent, and there's a slight huff from Jason on the other end.

"Honestly? not the worst plan you've had, and I respect the enthusiasm, but you still should have looped us in. I want to get a hit in too."

Bruce turns his head to the direction of the radio, snapped from his concentration on the road momentarily and it's like Jason can feel his confusion through the commlink.

"Don't give me that silence." he groans. "They're family, aren't they? I'm not opposed to a younger sibling, you know." he huffs irritably. "But do me a favour and control Nightwing, hey? He's looking as coiled as you. You might have to fight him for the first hit."

Bruce doesn’t say anything before the comm cuts off, leaving him in the silence once more and eyes going straight back onto the red dot mapped onto his GPS. You.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When you awoke the first time, you couldn’t feel anything. Your hands were tied to your ankles behind you, black cloth wrapped around your eyes. what you did know was that you were lying somewhere concrete, face pressed into the dusty cement. You knew that on the day that you woke and they had brough you were, that there were other people thrown in the same cell as you. You also knew that those other people were dead.

You had heard them scream, heard the way that they begged for their lives when they were dragged from the pen you were in. One a day, until you were left alone with no one to talk to. They had all been kidnapped like you, affluent people that you recognised the names and voices of. You had heard some of them at events you parents had hosted and attended, and when you traded names, they had remembered you immediately. You weren't dumb, you knew that you had all been taken here because you were rich. That was the only thing that you had in common with the heiresses and finance brokers that had shared the cells with you, huddled up against the cool metal.

Now the only thing left was you and the stickiness that crept under the bars of your cage, grateful that the blindfold was on so you didn't have to see what it was. At first you thought that you were alone, that your captors had left, but you knew better. You could sense them all around you, quiet and watching. They were like an uncomfortable prickling on your neck, the ghost of fingertips across your skin. Yet the hours and minutes had bled into days, and now you didn’t care if they were there or not.

You knew that they wanted to kill you. They had killed the rest. You had been given small amounts of food and water the first day or two, but today there had been none. Your mouth was dry as you lay on your side, lips cracking with the desire to drink. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you swallowed, and the silence that you were met with when you called out only made your panic and helplessness rise. You had lost the ability to cry, body sluggish. It felt like everything was shutting down, the pain in your stomach unbearable and tongue heavy in your mouth. As the heat crept in and pulled sweat from your unwilling skin, you began wishing that they would kill you.

You supposed that your wish was answered when the creak of your cell signalled one of your silent observers had come for you, and the tug on the ropes binding your limbs together made you lurch forward. You kept your face pressed down, too weak to struggle against them as they dragged you out and gripped your hair, making you shift onto your knees at an awkward angle. For the first time in days, you heard someone speak.

" So, this is Bruce's new...child." Your captor hummed. You could hear the way that their boots scuffed as they walked, coming to stand in front of you. You could faintly feel the swish of fabric, long and tickling the floor. "I wonder if he was planning to hand the title of Robin over so soon.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but your barely functioning brain fails to process what he's saying.

"Are you aware of your family's lineage?" comes the voice from above you, commanding and deep with a hint of something malicious in the undertone, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. “Your real family, the ones who claimed to practice a just and fair law. Not Wayne.”

 You manage to shake your head weakly, grimacing as the image of your parents covered in blood flickered into your mind.

The voice above you tuts. "The sins of the father shall be bestowed upon the son," he recites softly. "And you are to pay the penance. Gotham will be purged, and the bloodlines of the corrupt shall be the first to burn, aware of their sins or not."

You don't even get a chance to ask what he's saying, the words sounding like biblical rambling. A scream is ripped through your throat instead as a sharp hot pain erupts through your shoulder, the sound of your own skin bubbling making you sick. You wail, body aching to thrash but the fatigue and weakness preventing you from doing such. The hands on your shoulders hold you still as the sensation is repeated across your body, stray tears leaking from your eyes despite your dehydrated state. It's only when you feel like you’re about to cross over, embrace the light spilling behind your eyes that you realise that the hands have left your body and that you're lying face down, discarded on the concrete floor.

You can feel the ache all over your body, a stinging and writhing pain that makes your whimper involuntarily. You can now make out that there is sound around you, echoing off the empty walls and causing your head to throb after days of silence.

For Bruce however, the world was silent despite being in the thick of the fight. They had pulled up the abandoned building on the edge of Gotham and Bludhaven, thankfully located by Clark and his x-ray vision after days of searching. He had stormed into the building with Dick, Jason, and Tim on his heels, his hands filled with a shake only the trained eye could determine as rage. The world had dripped into the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat as soon as he saw you, kneeling at Ra’s feet and being held by league assassins. He had hardly any time to process the way that you curled up and into yourself when you were dropped so carelessly, head thudding lifelessly against the floor. Forlorn, he eyed the way your body was covered with cuts and stabs, burns from the red-hot sword still held in the hands of a soldier. He hadn't known when the league had decided to dabble in torture, but Bruce felt like joining that night.

Jason and Tim were dealing with the assassins, the younger male finally freed from desk duty. He didn't know you as well as he would have liked considering that you lived under the same roof as him, but you had been warming up. He had really hoped that you could get along, but now he feared that this was going to push your back into the shell you had just started to crack, and that frustration was evident in the whistling of his bow staff as it cut through the air.

Dick had gone after Ra’s immediately while Batman raced for you, Dicks escrima sticks going for the head. Dick was fast and agile, muscles more tensed than usual as he sent well placed blow after blow. Yet Bruce wasn’t an idiot, he knew the limits of him and his team, and he knew the limits of Ra’s. That's why in what limited time that Dick bought for him he dropped to your side, slicing through your bonds with a batarang and letting your arms and legs fall free from their cramped position behind you. You groan lightly as he cradles you to his chest, weakly crying out as he justles the many wounds. He loosens the blindfold from your eyes, and your blink up at him a few seconds later, squinting against the light.

Your skin is sticky with blood both your own and not, flecked across the apple of your cheeks. He eyes the burns, the warped and rippled skin that blistered angrily and would surely get infected if not treated soon. He observes the many cages set up in the corner, the one he presumes was yours wide open and empty. He feels sick seeing the dead bodies in the other ones, imagining that it could have been you in there, dead like some caged animal for slaughter.

You make a weak whimper when he stands, and he has half a mind to join Nightwing in beating Ras so badly he'd need to use the pit again.

But he doesn’t.

He rises to his feet with you in his arms, and he calls for a retreat. You cry and moan as he hurries out, Jason and Tim covering your exit while Dick flips into the rafters and out of range of the Demon Head. He wants to fight; he wants to put them in their place for hurting his family. But the moment he had met your eyes again, it was like that day in the alleyway. You had seen him as Batman too that day, but as he laid you hurriedly in the back of the batmobile and patched Oracle in to prep the med bay, he knew that something was different from that night.

Because unlike the day you lost your parents, he had made it in time.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey feel free to ignore this if its too dark but could u do ford x reader where he comes back from the portal and finds out reader died while he was gone

The moment Ford uttered you name he should’ve known something was wrong, especially the way Stan eyes didn’t meet his, his face was set in a look that told him that whatever happened to you he still wasn’t in complete acceptance of it.

‘Stanley,’ Ford said as he stepped closer to his twin brother, who has evening uncharacteristically silent the entire time, ‘where’s y/n?’

Stan fiddled with his fez hat as he debated whether or not he should tell Ford a lie, or tell him the truth that to this day he himself was still very much in denial over, but he decided that his brother should know regardless even if it did hurt him to admit it. ‘Y/n’s dead Stanford.’ Stan finally said and could hear Ford gasp in the silence that followed afterwards.

‘What? When?’ Ford asked, looking over at his desk and at a framed picture of you and him in your youth with a hairline fracture on the glass cutting across your face. He wished this was some joke but Ford knew his brother well enough to know that he’d never joke about you or death in the same breathe, you were their friend since childhood, and his childhood sweetheart; So to find out thirty years later that you were no longer living hurt Ford in ways he couldn’t fathom, it was like his heart had been violently ripped out of his chest and smashed into a million pieces, the air left his lungs as quickly as the news came and he had to find something to sit down on.

‘They died last this day last month…they held out hope that you’d come back one day, said they had something they’ve always wanted to tell you but before I could ask what…they passed away…I’m so sorry.’ Stan told him as he went to sit next to his brother who had tears silently streaming down his cheeks. You and Stanford meant a lot to Stanley- and a hell of a a lot at that- you were the only person in New Jersey who didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, or being labelled as weird because of your association with them, you just didn’t care enough about those things and instead encouraged them to keep being who they were without shame.

Stanley also knew that Ford had a thing for you and still has from how he kept things you left at their parent’s house when you were younger, it was fun to tease him about it until he started actively encouraging Ford to say something to you, anything! Lucky you did go out for a bit but it wasn’t until everything blew up between and only then did your relationship fracture and fall off. With Ford dedicated all of his time and effort to his work rather than your crumbling relationship, it had gotten to the point where you just left without a trace, assuming that he’d be off in the woods on his latest monster chase.

Stan tried to keep telling you to hold on, just until Ford came home, but your health had rapidly declined so severely that there was nothing anyone could’ve done to prevent it. It hurt Stan to loose his best friend and his unofficial but in his heart of hearts official in law, he couldn’t help but think of how Ford would react upon hearing that the person he still longed for had died with a heart heavy with regret. You wanted to marry Ford, it was your biggest hopes for the future but unfortunately that future didn’t come nearly as soon as either you or Stan would’ve liked.

‘And we ended on less than satisfactory terms too.’ Ford said sombrely, feeling deep within his chest that something was missing, he felt hollow and empty knowing that he had missed out on setting things right with you. He had missed the chance to marry you happily like he saw his alternate self did in a dimension that he visited briefly, and looking back at it now only caused Ford more heartbreak. ‘There’s so much I have yet to tell them,’ he trails off as he looked to Stanley who had now started to tear up at this point, ‘I still love them Stanley.’ He admits and Stanley clenched the fabric of his pants within his firsts. ‘I know and they loved- no-still love you too, right until their very last breath all they could think about was you.’ Was all he said.

‘I wanted to marry them Stanley.’ Ford said weakly as all the future prospects he had for you and him slowly slipping from his grasp, one by one.

‘I know.’ Stan replied.

‘I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them.’

‘I know, they did too.’

‘I wanted them.’ Ford cried

‘And they wanted you just as much.’ Stan said as he brought his brother into his side as he wept while clutching at his chest as though his heart was burning him from the inside out. it hurt Stanley to see his brother in pain, such pain that it brought him to his knees, begging and pleading for a god that doesn’t exist to bring you back to him. Stan hated knowing that you and Ford could’ve had a happy ending, only to end up with a tragic one instead; So he remained by Ford’s side in solidarity as he cried and shouted until his throat was raw and he feel asleep due to exhaustion.

‘You deserved better,’ Stan said to no one in particular, ‘you both did.’

[anyasathenaeum]

Guide (Inexperienced!Choso x Reader smut)

A/N: This is another thing nobody asked for, but... listen, I have a pantheon of anime husbands and Choso is WAY up there. So yeah, uh, have this inexperienced!Choso x flatmate!reader piece because I love him and my husband deserves nice things and sMASH SMASH SMA- Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms and body parts are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), rough sex (a bit? not really, maybe if you squint lol), overstimulation, swearing.

Choso couldn't sleep.

3:24am.

The red, glowing numbers on the clock face by his bed seemed to mock him, reminding him of his inability to sleep and drawing his attention to the feelings coursing through his body. The very same feelings he was trying so very hard to ignore.

Choso may have been over 150 years old, and yet, this body, HIS body, was new to him. Its needs, its functions, the feelings it caused, every little detail was new. Despite his 150 years on this earth, he was still new in almost every single way.

Thankfully, you had been there for Choso every step of the way as he learned to understand his body and what it meant to be human. Besides being the person with whom Choso shared his apartment, you were also undoubtedly his best and closest friend, his favourite person outside of his family and the person around whom he always felt at peace and... happy. You were always open and accepting of him and his seemingly endless questions about the feelings and sensations in his body, never brushing him off or making him feel bad about his lack of knowledge or understanding.

But this... this was different.

Choso's brain suddenly seemed to be lacking an off switch, his mind conjuring up all sorts of images that he couldn't understand. Why was he constantly picturing you underneath him, your cheeks beautifully pink, your body bare and your skin pressed against his? Why did Choso want nothing but to rip the clothes straight off of you every time he saw you now? Why did picturing these things make his whole body feel like it was on fire, as if pure lava coursed through his veins? Why did his pants around his crotch suddenly become very, very tight every time those images flashed in his head? Why did it feel like you had become his very center of gravity?

Why? Why? Why?

Choso didn't understand this constant, desperate, aching need inside him. He didn't understand why you triggered that need every time he saw you or caught your scent. And so, despite it being the early hours of the morning, he decided that he would do exactly what he had always done when he didn't understand something about his body - he would ask you.

Slowly, Choso got out of bed and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. He knocked on your door loudly enough for you to wake, and he could hear you shuffling slowly in your room for a few moments before your door opened.

The sight of you before him, all sleepy and cuddly-looking, made Choso's heart squeeze in his chest for some reason. Your expression was scrunched up in confusion as you gazed at the man in front of you, stifling a small yawn before speaking to him, your voice thick with sleep.

"Choso? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for waking you, (Y/N). I couldn't sleep. I'm experiencing some new feelings and they don't make sense to me. They're keeping me awake. Could you help me?"

Your eyes widen a bit as you hear his explanation, and the small, warm smile that appears on your face makes Choso want to grab your face and smash his lips against yours while tugging each scrap of clothing blocking him from feeling your warm skin off of you. However, he restrained himself, his hand tightening into a fist as he struggled to keep himself in check as you invited him into your room.

'Why? Why do I wanna do that?' The voice in his head inquired, but Choso simply brushed it off before following you into your bedroom.

The moment he crossed into your room, it was as if a haze came over him. Your scent seemed to envelope him, clinging to his skin as he walked behind you, filling him to the brim with a fire that seemed to burn in his very bones, refusing to be quenched no matter what he did. He watched as you snuggled back into your bed and patted a spot next to you, inviting him to sit with you and explain whatever was bothering him.

Carefully, Choso sat next to you in your bed, his body stiff as he tried to find a comfortable position without making you uncomfortable. However, you never complained when he brushed up against you, instead just snuggling in a bit closer, your warmth radiating against him and warming him in a different way than the fire in his bones did.

"So..." You spoke gently, gazing up at your best friend, "What's troubling you?"

Choso took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express what he was feeling to you. After a couple moments, he began to speak, his voice low and almost embarrassed as he tried to explain his situation.

"Well... my body seems to feel like it's constantly filled with fire. My brain just seems to race constantly, showing me all sorts of images that make my body feel hot. Once I get hot, I feel this... pressure inside me, almost bordering on pain, sometimes. My pants tend to get tight and I feel some kind of desperate need. I don't know what my body wants, but there's usually a throbbing feeling and hardness between my legs that comes with it. I don't really know how to explain it or how to make it stop. It only seems to happen around you, (Y/N). Am I... sick or something? I don't understand what's happening to me."

When Choso looked at you, he was surprised to see that your eyes were wider than he had ever seen, your expression one of completely shock and surprise, as well as something he didn't quite know how to describe.

As Choso explained this new sensation, you felt your heart beginning to race in your chest and heat rising to your face as you realized exactly what he was talking about, and you pointedly tried to ignore the heat that suddenly throbbed between your thighs. You blinked a couple times as he spoke, trying to figure out if you were truly hearing him right.

What Choso was experiencing was sexual attraction. To you.

"(Y/N)?"

Choso's voice was now worried, and when you looked up at him, you realized he was watching you attentively, concern evident on his face as he no doubt waited for your reply. You quickly cleared your throat and sat up, trying not to let your own emotions stop you from helping Choso understand.

"Sorry! So, uh.... w-well, you're not sick, Choso. What you're feeling, u-um... is pretty common amongst humans."

You found yourself struggling to get the words out, even more heat rushing to your face as you tried to continue your shaky start of an explanation. It didn't help that you had Choso's undivided attention, his eyes trained on you with surprising intensity and interest. You took a deep breath before continuing.

"What you're feeling is sexual attraction. It's basically your body signaling that you're interested in somebody in a sexual sense and that you'd essentially like to... um... mate with them, I guess? That's probably the simplest way to explain it. It's thanks to your instincts, really. Of course, most people just refer to it as being "horny"."

Choso's eyes were wide as you finished talking, and he looked at you curiously for a couple moments before asking bluntly, "So that feeling is my body wanting me to mate with you?"

Your face felt like it was on fire as you tried not to choke on your own spit at his question. After taking a second to recover, you simply shrugged, acting as if this was a totally normal conversation to be having at 3 in the morning with your best friend that you had secretly been pining after for God knows how long.

"I guess so. H-Have you felt that for anybody else?"

"No," Choso replied immediately, studying you carefully as his emotions began to take over his words, "You're the only one who ever makes me feel that way. Being around you makes me want to do things to you, with you. Being around you makes me want to hold you. Kiss you. Rip the clothes off your body because I can't feel your skin when you wear them. And..."

He trailed off, looking down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at you, his pale face now flushed with colour and his voice dangerously low.

"And it's all driving me crazy. You, (Y/N). You're driving me crazy."

Your heart all but cheered in your chest at his admission, and you couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips as you felt a surge of relief, happiness and desire course through your veins.

"Do you want me to help you with those feelings, Choso?"

In any other circumstances, you wouldn't have been brave enough to be so upfront in your question, but the part of you that had been longing after the dark-haired half-cursed spirit for so long had taken over and thrown caution to the wind. You would be damned if you would let this moment pass you by.

Choso's beautiful honey-coloured eyes widened at your question, nodding his head immediately in reply, "Of course I do. I don't want anybody except you, (Y/N). It's..." His voice faltered, falling to so quiet a whisper that you almost missed it. "It's always been you."

Before you could stop yourself, you shifted forward and gently pressed your lips against his as your heart sang in your chest at his confession. As you kissed him, you were careful not to overwhelm him by kissing him too hard or too passionately right from the start, knowing that this was definitely his first kiss. However, regardless of this being his first kiss, Choso was kissing you back immediately with enough energy and passion that he just about knocked you backwards into your bed.

His taste was addictive, and you found your hands burying themselves into his dark hair as you shifted closer to him, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as though asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You happily allowed it, relishing every second of the kiss with the man you'd been quietly yearning for. You gasped softly as Choso lifted you with ease, as if you weighed nothing at all, and placed you in his lap, never once breaking away from you or stopping your kiss.

Now that he finally understood what he was feeling for you, and to see that you felt the same way about him, Choso felt truly happy. His soul itself was filled with a warmth that he hadn't ever felt before, not even for his brothers. These feelings he had for you were something else entirely, powerful in their own right and a different entity than the love he harboured for his family. Sure, there was the sexual attraction you had described to him, but his feelings for you weren't comprised of just that. This was something more, and while Choso didn't exactly have the words to describe it just yet, in this moment, he didn't care. He had you, and that's all he needed.

You pulled away from Choso suddenly, both of you panting and with swollen lips from the intensity of your kissing. A soft whine escaped him the moment you stopped, an adorable pout appearing almost immediately on his lips as he leaned towards you, clearly wanting nothing more desperately than to continue kissing you.

"No... (Y/N), please don't stop..."

You wanted to coo at how sweet Choso was, and you fought hard to resist the temptation of kissing him once more, instead moving backwards a bit and grinning at him warmly.

"Now, now, patience, Choso. You'll get more kisses, don't worry. I just want to do something else for you first. I'm going to take your pants off. Is that okay?"

Choso pouted a bit at not being able to kiss you more, but gave you a nod in return, the colour in his cheeks darkening. With his consent, you gently brought your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, where there was a very obvious tent. Gently, you tugged the sweatpants off of his hips, pulling them down oh-so-slowly as you revealed more and more of Choso's bare skin, his treasure trail, and eventually, his dick finally sprung free. Your eyes widened as you stared at his cock, at its angry red tip, already dribbling precum from its slit and how it seemed to throb gently in time to Choso's heartbeat. While it wasn't super big, it was definitely much thicker than you expected and your pussy positively throbbed at the thought of having his cock deep inside you, stretching you out in a way nothing else ever would.

"I-Is it okay?"

Choso's voice quivered a bit, giving away his nervousness as you continued to stare at his cock with wide eyes. He couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious at being bare like this before another person for the first time, let alone it being you.

"You're beautiful, Choso."

You response was breathless and sincere, your eyes glimmering as you looked up at him, the warmest smile you could possibly give him on your lips. The small whimper that escaped Choso at your response made your heart flutter, and you could see his cheeks darkening as he looked away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You said softly, watching Choso carefully to ensure he was comfortable with you proceeding.

With another small whimper from Choso and a quick nod of his head, you gently reached your hand out and wrapped it around his shaft. The moment your soft, warm hand made contact with the silky skin of his cock, without you so much as moving, Choso suddenly shuddered and let out a loud whine. In the same instant, to your surprise, warm cum suddenly dribbled from his slit and got all over your hand.

"H-Hah... hah, fuck, 'm sorry... 'm so sorry, (Y/N)... i-it just... felt so good... I've never felt anything like that before..."

Choso couldn't meet your eyes as he whimpered out his apology, his cheeks a deep shade of red, embarrassment and a hint of confusion clear in his expression. Your heart lurched in your chest once more at just how sweet he was, and you couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Don't apologize, Choso. You came, that happens when you feel really good. It's normal. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact..." You smiled seductively as you looked him in the eyes, feeling more playful than before, "I plan on guiding you through it all and making you cum a few more times before the night's over."

The look on Choso's face was absolutely priceless, his eyes wide in surprise and his the colour in his face somehow darkening even more than before. Wiping your hand with a face cloth, you helped him get more comfortable, letting him rest against your headboard as you wriggled off his sweatpants the rest of the way followed by his shirt, revealing his toned and muscled torso, his defined abs, arms and back.

You could feel your own slick soaking through the pants of your pyjamas just at the sight of Choso naked in your bed, and you struggled to restrain yourself from touching yourself throughout all of this. How badly you wanted to sink your fingers into your weeping pussy, just for some hint of relief. Or better yet, have Choso use his long, thick fingers to make you see stars. But this was about him, now, and ensuring he had a good first sexual experience. So, you kept yourself in check and just focused on him, getting yourself comfortable as you laid between his thighs, once again taking his still-hard cock into your hands. You heard Choso let out a soft hiss and felt his dick throb and twitch in your hands at the contact, making you smile softly - he was so sensitive.

"Ready for the next part?" You teased gently, gazing up at the beautiful man before you.

"Yes, (Y/N)... p-please... more," Choso whined softly, squirming slightly beneath your touch as his cock twitched once more, his desire obvious in his voice and in his eyes.

Without so much as an answer, you leaned down and took the tip of Choso's cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly. Choso positively mewled at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and the feeling of your tongue teasing his sensitive tip and slit, his orgasm already building once more as you continued.

"(Y/N)... o-oh, fuck... o-oh, yes, please, more! Please!"

Hearing Choso beg you for more made your pussy throb and drove you to take more of him in your mouth, taking his cock as far down your throat as you could as your tongue traced the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. More beautiful sounds came from Choso as you did this: moans of your name, curse words and soft whimpers and whines filled the room, until suddenly-

"'m gonna cum! F-Fuck, (Y/N), 'm gonna cum! (Y/N)!"

You felt a large hand tangle through your hair and push your head down a bit as Choso bucked his hips upward, forcing his cock just a bit deeper and making you gag slightly and your eyes water a bit as copious amounts of cum gushed down your throat. You squeezed your thighs together at the unintentionally rough treatment Choso had just given you, his fingers still tangled in your hair as he pulled you gently off his cock, his eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or be rough, (Y/N). I'm really, really sorry."

Even in the midst of recovering from his orgasm, Choso was still worried for you, which made your heart flutter and your pussy practically gush. You shook your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before answering.

"It's okay, Choso. Don't worry about it, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, it was just a little surprising, that's all."

Relief coursed through the man's veins as you confirmed that he hadn't hurt you or gone too far, a shaky breath escaping him as he leaned back against the headboard, still panting softly as he tried to regain his wits after his second orgasm of the night.

As you took in the sight of Choso naked in your bed, sat against your headboard with his arm slung over his eyes, his dark hair loose and his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by him. He was truly the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. It also did not escape your attention that somehow, even after two intense orgasms, his cock was still rock hard. Just how much more could he take?

Without much more thought, you found yourself stripping off your pyjamas, leaving you naked at last. You shivered and felt goosebumps erupt as you felt the cool night air brush over your skin, especially the skin that was positively soaked on the inside of and between your thighs.

"Choso," You called softly, wanting the man to look at you, to see you like this.

When Choso lowered his arm from his eyes and caught sight of your naked body before him, his honey-coloured eyes widened and became bigger than you'd ever seen before, his mouth dropping open slightly and his cheeks flushing once again.

You were so beautiful. Choso couldn't have even begun to imagine this kind of beauty, and to see you like this made his heart race frantically in his chest. He took in every detail of your body, his gaze lingering on your breasts for a few moments before continuing down your body. You looked so soft, your skin lit by the soft glow of the moon, and Choso wanted nothing than to touch you, hold you, stroke you, caress you and never let you go. Not even for a second.

Yet, when his gaze got down to your thighs, where he could see the slick coating your skin and the way it glistened, the scent of your arousal just barely teasing him, something inside Choso snapped. Gone were the thoughts of simply holding you or caressing you softly, instead replaced by a burning, all-consuming need. The same fire from before, multiplied a millions times in intensity, coursed through Choso's veins, and all he could do was give in to his instincts as they took over.

"Choso? Are you oka-ah!"

You yelped as Choso practically pounced on you, pressing his lips against your passionately as he flipped you into your bed so you were laying beneath him. You moaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeper and more hungrily than you'd ever been kissed before.

Following his instincts, Choso rolled his hips, letting his cock drag through the soaked folds of your pussy and against your clit, making you moan out loudly from beneath him. You arched your back to allow him to keep grinding his dick against your cunt and clit, reveling in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you. Pulling away from your kiss, Choso brought his head down so his lips were by your ear so you could hear him panting softly.

"W-Want you," Choso whined, pressing desperate kisses to the side of your face and down your neck, "W-Want you so bad, (Y/N). Wanna... wanna be inside you."

As he whined those last few words, you felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, making you gasp and jump slightly at the feeling. You could only bring yourself to nod your head, unable to speak as you felt Choso gently nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. Without any other words, you felt him press his hips into yours, driving his cock into you slowly, inch by inch.

The stretch stung, a small hiss escaping you as you felt your pussy adjusting to the size of him. You'd never felt a cock as thick as his, and you let out a low moan at just how full you felt.

You could hear the man whining and whimpering your name over and over as he continued to slowly press himself into you to the hilt, the feeling of your warm, tight, spongy walls clenching around his cock and the way they seemed to pulse driving him dangerously close to cumming already.

"C-Cho... C-Cho..." Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to form coherent words, "Feels s'good... you're... so big..."

Just feeling him inside you, pressing perfectly against that spongy, gummy spot, made you see stars. It felt as if you were made for each other, with him filling you just right and making you feel things nobody had ever made you feel before. However, before you could open your mouth to guide Choso through the next part, his instincts took over and he pulled out until just the tip was left inside you before thrusting back into you. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, your back arching in response and pleasure erupting through your veins as Choso observed you, his eyes trained on you carefully despite him panting softly. When he saw how you reacted, he took it as a sign to continue.

Without hesitation, Choso began to thrust into you almost desperately, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over, his fingers intertwining with yours and holding your hand close as he fucked you into the mattress.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N), you're so tight... pussy's so good... so wet..." Choso whimpered, his movements suddenly stuttering and a low groan escaping him, "(Y/N)... g-gonna cum... gonna-!"

With a final thrust, he slammed himself to the hilt inside you, spilling himself and letting his cum fill you to the brim, coating your walls and pulling a moan of his name from your lips.

"C-Cho... God, th-that felt so good... so-ah!"

You cried out as Choso suddenly continued to thrust into you, slamming his hips against you even faster and harder than before, driving his cock deeper into you.

"'M sorry, (Y/N). 'M sorry, need you. Need more. 'M sorry, need you. S'good, 'm sorry, (Y/N), can't stop," Choso babbled in your ear as he continued to thrust into you, his large hands coming up to grasp your hips with a nearly-bruising grip.

The way Choso angled your hips allowed him to hit even deeper, that perfect spot being massaged continuously by the head of his cock, likely without him even realizing what he was doing to you. All you could do was focus on the feeling of him inside you and just good he made you feel.

Your nails dug into his back as you felt yourself coming close to cumming, your whole body tensing as you practically sobbed out, "'M gonna cum! C-Cho, 'm gonna cum! Cumming!"

Your orgasm hit you like a train, overwhelming you and washing over you in wave after wave. The way your pussy spasmed around Choso's cock made him cum again, yet unlike the first time, he didn't stop his thrusts. Instead, he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm despite overstimulating himself.

You thought he'd stop once your orgasm subsided, but how wrong you were. Choso kept going, fucking you relentlessly and cumming inside you over and over again, apologizing, whining and moaning your name until he was babbling complete nonsense and tears coursed down his beautiful face from overstimulation. He'd made you cum countless times, and you found your whole body feeling like your bones as disappeared by the time he'd finally pulled out, too tired ad overstimulated to continue.

Neither of you had the energy to get towels to clean yourselves off, but you couldn't care less as Choso collapsed into your bed next to you, his face red and his chest heaving from his exertion. As soon as he laid next to you, you found yourself being pulled into his arms, your face coming to rest against his bare chest as he held you close, your skin pressed against his. Gone was the intense, aroused Choso from earlier, instead replaced by his usual, tender and gentle counterpart. You could feel Choso nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent as he held you close, endorphins surely coursing through his veins like crazy at this point.

You sighed as you snuggled in against him, your voice no louder than a whisper, "Jeez, Choso... I don't think you really needed me to guide you."

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped him, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple as he answered softly, "Yes, I did. You helped me learn, (Y/N). Thank you." His expression fell a bit as he continued, "Was it too much, though? I'm really sorry. I just... couldn't stop. Something in me just... wanted to keep going."

"No," You giggled softly, looking up at him with a smile as heat rushed to your face, "It was amazing. I just wasn't expecting you to keep going like that."

Choso shrugged before leaning forward, a lazy grin on his face as he whispered lowly into your ear, "What can I say? You drive me crazy, (Y/N). And now that I know that this feeling is me wanting you, I'll only ever want you more and more than ever before. You're mine (Y/N). And I'll always make sure you remember that."

[boltwrites]

logan absolutely acting like a starved man eating your pussy PLEASE i’m taking whining groaning BEGGING for you jesus christ

A/N: hello yes. also love that out of the 6 requests i received, 2 of them are about logan giving oral. we have Expectations for this man.

anyway, i'm kind of out of practice when it comes to smut, apologies lmao

By clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

"Come on-"

You stumbled back, shins colliding with the foot of the bed as you fell flat on your ass, scrabbling against the sheets to prop yourself up on your elbows. You didn't want to miss a damn second of this. It was your fault, anyway - why Logan was acting like this, why he looked like a man starved - you'd been teasing him all night. Not even subtly, like you enjoyed at times. No, this had been filthy. Scandalized. It had left him open mouthed, practically panting. Sending you hungry, sinful looks from across the room. Shifting his weight from one hip to the other as he tried to look casual adjusting his jeans. And you just kept pushing.

Well, he'd pushed back. Pushed you right through the door of your room, until your ankles smashed into the box spring and your ass hit the bed.

You couldn't help but stare at the man. His pupils were blown wide with lust, chest heaving and hair rumbled at the front, little beads of sweat gathering at his brow. If you didn't know him better, you could have mistaken it for anger, for rage -

But you knew better. You knew that look for what it really was - pure, feral lust.

He stalked forward, with all the danger and power of a predator. The door slammed behind him - when had he grabbed it? - and he didn't even bother to lock it. Trivial things like that - he didn't have time for them. Not when his gaze was locked on you.

You pressed against the rumbled bedcovers with the flat of your palms. Even if logically you knew he just wanted to fuck you, you still responded instinctually to that primal urge inside you to put distance between yourself and danger. Your heels dug into the edge of the bed, to try and crawl further back - but Logan cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised and gaze narrowing.

"Now... where do you think you're going?"

This was about the time of the night when all your bravado flew straight out the window. All the tools you'd used so far tonight - a tactical flutter of your lashes, the drag of your instep across the seam of his jeans under the table, a filthy, depraved scene whispered against the shell of his ear - they all shattered in an instant when he finally, finally got a chance to act on those fantasies. Because you knew it would be better.

You stilled - you likely looked every bit the deer in headlights as he closed the gap between you with two measured strides, calloused hands wrapped around your calves and tugging.

You gasped, ass dragging along the bed until you were flush with the edge, Logan looming over you like an oncoming storm.

His eyes locked with yours, fingers squeezing tighter as his jaw clenched, flexing the muscles there as his gaze flit from your lashes to your lips, then, to the anxious, excited bob of your throat.

"All night whispering filthy shit in my ear and now you're speechless. That's how it goes, isn't it?" he smirked, then. A devilish, wry thing that stirred something low in your stomach.

"I-" you started, and he shook his head, nudging your knees apart with his own.

"Oh no, you don't need to start now," he chuckled, low and conspiratorial. "You just need to do what I tell you to. Take your pants off."

Oh god. You shivered - you recognized that tone, the glint in his eye. You'd pushed him just far enough for this - for a side of him you only glimpsed on the rarest of occasions.

Usually, when you teased him, he'd rip his shirt off and toss you onto the bed, tug your hair and handle you with that sweet, rough touch. You craved from from him, when he'd been gone for too long or you'd been too caught up in your own work to care for either of your needs.

Rarely, you'd push some invisible button and he'd channel that energy into torturing you with the concept of pleasure - nudging you to the precipice of release and pulling you back over and over and over until there were tears running down your cheeks and it was all you could do to cry his name, beg for that release.

But this - this was more. You'd pressed further, led Logan through the thralls of insatiable carnal desire and set him down just beyond that. Here, the heat of his own desire had been dulled as you teased and taunted and smirked, denying him the attention he needed over and over until the craving for his own release had been pruned, supplanted with the bone-deep hunger for your pleasure, to leave you ruined, so drunk on his touch that you'd wonder why you would have ever chosen social norms over his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

Obviously, you played this game because you were a gambler. Rolling the dice hoping you'd come across the very same looking in his eye you were staring at in this exact moment.

Jackpot.

You nodded - hands shaking with anticipation as you unlatched the button of your jeans, unfurled the zipper after. You sat eye level with his belt buckle, the denim below it straining with how hard he was for you. Maybe if you just reached out and -

"Off," he hissed. He was in control here. You'd had that chance earlier tonight, and you'd squandered it on dirty talk with no destination, no point or purpose.

You obeyed his request instead - slid your hands under your clothes, wiggling your way out of everything that covered you -

And Logan fell to his knees - no grace, no poise as he gathered the fabric that had pooled around your ankles and threw it to the far side of the room, eyes dark and determined.

Oh, was he -

He clawed at your thighs, your ass - dragged you to the edge of the bed before he splayed his hands flat against your thighs, strong fingers spreading open your legs as his focus narrowed down to the slick mess you'd become.

Oh, fuck.

He breathed, ragged - shoulders shaking as took a last, gasping breath before he dove into you.

You cried out - how could you not, as his nails dug against the flesh of your ass, damn near lifting your hips off the bed. You fell back, spine arching as his sideburns scraped the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, at the junction of your legs and core. But that was nothing compared to his tongue - the tongue he use to carve his way inside you, lapping at you like you were all that could sustain him. It massaged you from the inside out, laving along your walls like some insane perversion of a kiss.

You keened into his touch - tried to use what little leverage you had to roll your hips against his lips - only to be stopped by his fierce hold on your ass, your thighs. It was all you could do to dig your nails into the sheets, your other hand threading through his hair and scraping along his scalp, tangling in those tresses and tugging, as if you could bury him inside you like this.

And he did his damndest. He was ravenous - you couldn't tell through your own cries of pleasure, but you could have sworn you heard him growl. He kissed and suckled against you, pressing himself ever closer -

And you keened as his nose grazed against your clit, thighs shaking with need as his eyes - that had previous been closed in reverent, absolute focus - snapped open to find your own as he leaned against that hand in his hair, and ground his nose to your throbbing clit.

You damn near screamed, bucking against his lips, his vice-like grip on your hips, his damn nose - as he all but nuzzled you to completion, drinking in your release like a fine wine even as you twitched and gasped for air in his hold.

But he wasn't anywhere near done. The noise he made as he dragged his tongue out of your folds was absolutely obscene, and you damn near sobbed at how, even though you'd just come, you still ached for him.

And he knew it. He hummed - low, pleased, as he removed a hand from your shaking thigh to trail through the wet mess he'd left, teasing them just at the edge of your entrance so you could feel every ridge of his callouses. The texture of those fingers had a soft, desperate noise leaving your lips as he finally dipped them into you - so slow that you could sob from it.

And you did sob - more like you screamed when hot breath washed over your clit, followed by the flat drag of a tongue.

"Fuck! Logan-!" You cried, thighs clenching around his jaw, heels digging into his back. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him closer or kick him square in that adamantine skull. You squeezed around his fingers, tight and needy, but that attention on your oversensitive clit sent sparks of pleasure-pain up your spine, your core flexing as you tried to take it.

But that was the thing - he knew you could take it. Knew that with his fingers inside you, with his lips wrapped around your clit, that soon that little flicker of pain would fade to crashing, blinding pleasure. He knew you loved it when he ate you out like this - lapped against your clit, sucked it until you were spiraling over again. That the first round was just a test to see how easily he could get you off. He had you now. And he wasn't letting you go.

He hummed against you, tongue narrowing to a point as he curled it around your clit, peppering you with sloppy kisses as he worked you through the sparking fire of too much, too soon. His fingers helped to calm the sting - he massaged against your walls, rocking in and out until he found that spot inside you with a slightly altered resistance, and then he set to work.

His free hand vacated your hip. Instead, he splayed it low across your stomach as he curled those fingers inside you. You cried his name - needy and desperate as he somehow managed to make two fingers feel like so much more.

All that, even while those circles he was drawing with his tongue tightened, adjusting to the way your hand pressed over his on your stomach, how the fingers curled in his hair loosened just slightly, drifted lover to scratch along the scruff of his jaw as you relaxed under him, until the little jitters of that muscle in your thigh were few and far between.

Then he wrapped his lips around you and sucked.

You screamed - actually, truly screamed his name. Your hips jolted, your nails dug into his skin as his tongue ravished you, cheeks hollowed as he worked you over like a practiced musician at his preferred instrument. His fingers curled - oh god, when had he added a third - and your back arched, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

It wasn't frantic and ever present, like your first orgasm - that had been simple work after a night of teasing, of purposeful denial. That had been a foregone conclusion. But this - this was careful, calculated, expert - and the pleasure built like floodwater against a dam, as he worked you just so he knew when you did come, your vision would blur at the edges and you'd shake apart harder than anything else.

His fingers curled, his wrist snapped as he thrust them into you, as his palm flattened against your stomach, his tongue flicked over your clit, his lips so tight, so perfect -

You don't remember what you screamed. It might have been his name, it might have been a plea for mercy - or maybe it was just a scream.

No matter what it was, he worked you through it with his tongue, his fingers, his lips.

And when you blinked up at him, bleary, corner of your mouth wet with either spit or tears - you caught that look. That feral look.

He wasn't done with you. Not even close.

[ghostofskywalker]

More Than The Persona

Tyler Owens/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,248

Summary: Tyler Owens is the poster child for storm chasing, his videos often leading to viewers glamourising these drastic weather events. As a first responder, you're no stranger to the death and destruction that tornadoes leave in their wake, so the two of you don't exactly click the first time you meet.

Note: i saw twisters yesterday and i was pleasantly surprised with how much i enjoyed it, since i also love the original 1996 one. as far as why this was written, i’m procrastinating writing zine fics right now and that's the only explanation I can offer lol. i'd love to write more twisters fic in the future though, i did have fun with it

As you stepped out of the ambulance, you could see destruction wherever you turned. Countless houses were razed where they stood, their contents strewn all across the street. Even the structures that had been lucky enough to only get clipped by the tornado were still damaged beyond repair, in some cases with their entire facades ripped off, now laying somewhere smashed on the ground. No matter how many times you had seen scenes like this, the gravity of the situation never got lighter. For almost all of these people, recovering would take months, if not years. 

Crowds were just beginning to collect on the streets as some emerged from storm shelters, but you knew there were some who hadn’t been afforded that luxury. You shared a knowing look with the other members of your team as they began to step over the debris in search of those that might be trapped under rubble. 

By the time more pickup trucks pulled up to the scene, you had set up outside one of the ambulances, hard at work treating the wounds of those who could make it over to you. The crates of water bottles next to you were quickly diminishing, but the line of people in need of medical care never seemed to, which was a sitaution you were unfortunately used to finding yourself in. 

As the newcomers fanned out through the area, you weren’t the only one who stared. Although not a fan yourself of the self-appointed “Tornado Wrangler,” you unfortunately recognized the man who led a small group down the street. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turned your attention back to the person in front of you. There was nothing you could do about the fact that some wannabe celebrities were trying to profit off of the disaster by getting in the public’s good graces, so you would just have to suck it up and hope they eventually get bored enough to leave.

Hours later, you were still in that same spot, and there was still so much to do. Some of the ambulances had left temporarily the scene, taking those whose injuries were more intense off to the closest hospital. Right now, your priority was getting immediate medical aid to those who needed it, even if you could feel your eyes drooping with fatigue. As you gently bandaged up the arm of a young girl, someone tapped on your your shoulder. “Take a break,” and you could hear the sound of your best friend’s voice even if you were looking at him. “I can tell that you need it.” 

You shook your head as the little girl walked off in the direction her mother was standing. “Don’t worry about me Isaac, ‘m fine here.” 

“I don’t believe that,” he responded. “At least get some water and take a few moments to eat something.” 

After a few more passes back and forth, Isaac practically shoved you from your post. With a water bottle in your hand, you wandered around the area, mind racing as you tried to find a way you could help once you had taken a few minutes to yourself. But of course, you were not granted solitude for long. Right as you had raised the bottle to your lips, a voice interrupted your thoughts. “Need anything?” 

Tyler Owens was standing a few paces away, a small box in his hands. The cowboy hat on his head looked pristine, a stark contrast to the way that your work clothes were already too grimy for your taste. “I’m okay,” you said, sending a tight-lipped smile his way and hoping that he would get the message that you weren’t interested in conversing right now. “Thank you.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked, clearly not having picked up on the signs. “You’ve been out here for hours and this is the first time you’ve stopped for any kind of break.” 

Your gaze hardened slightly as you regarded him. “And how would you know?” He was correct of course, but you had no plans to admit that, especially not when he acted as though he knew everything about you. 

“It was just a guess, but I can see that I’m right,” he said, a smile crossing his face that you hated to say that you found attractive. Why did the best looking people have to act as dumb as they did? 

By the grace of the universe, a colleague called you over to them right as you opened your mouth to respond, and Tyler didn’t follow as you headed over to help once more. The whole time, you found yourself thinking about him and his team. What were they even doing here, besides getting in the way of those actually trying to help? 

***

After that time, it felt like you ran into Tyler Owens at least three times a week. He and his team showed up to the sites of destruction with their video cameras out as they surveyed the damage. Multiple times, you had to shoo them away from you as you worked, tirelessly bandaging cuts, scrapes, and other lacerations that people had suffered from the winds of the storm. Despite the fact that your initial conversation with Tyler had lasted less than a minute, he apparently felt that it was enough to bother you again, and to act as though you were much closer than you were. 

This time, you were bandaging up an older woman when you heard his voice interrupt your focus. “Hey medic!” 

Resisting the urge to sigh, you turned to look at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Unfortunately, the smile on his face didn’t shift at your tone. “Helping, of course.” 

“And how exactly is annoying me while I’m just trying to do my job considered helpful?” 

“I’m convincing you to take a break,” he said. “I’ve seen how hard you work, and the way you put others first so many times. Sometimes you need to take care of yourself to take care of others.”

Sighing, you finished gently wrapping gauze around the woman’s leg before speaking. “Nice try, making it seem like you have any concern,” you said. “But I don’t have any interest being on in your  YouTube videos, and I can take care of myself perfectly fine.” 

His smile dropped slightly as he registered your words, the first time it’s happened since you met. Every other time, your words seem to pass right over him, no matter how annoyed you sounded as you spoke, but not this one. He mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before stepping away, and you felt your heart sink slightly in a way you didn’t expect. 

“He’s right you know,” the woman you had just bandaged said as she got up from the chair in front of you. 

“What?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the conversation with Tyler.

“You need to take a break at some point. If you’ve been out helping like this after all these recent storms, it’s going to take a toll on you.” 

You nodded, knows that both her and Tyler were right. “I will, I promise.”

“Good,” said. The woman left after giving you another knowing smile, and you flagged down Isaac to take your place for a few minutes. 

It always felt strange, to sit down on the ground and look at the tornado’s destruction. Children’s toys, blankets, and even the skeletal remains of furniture were on the street now, no telling which homes they had once belonged to. You stared out as the wind picked up a photo and pushed it away from you, before it was eventually grabbed by someone. 

As you took a sip of the water bottle in your hands, Tyler appeared from the crowds once more, his hands up in mock surrender as he approached you. “I see you took my advice.”

“I see you’re still dead set on bothering me wherever I go,” you said, but the tone was halfhearted. 

“It’s not my only goal in life, but it’s one I get to work on often,” he said, sitting down next to you. 

“Why?” you asked, finally gathering up the courage to voice the question that had been swirling around your mind since you first met him. “I don’t know you. No offense, of course.” 

A small snort of laughter left his mouth. “I don’t know, I think at this point we could be longtime friends.” You raised your eyebrows at him, and the smile on face grew as he realized that this was once again lighthearted teasing. “I keep bothering you because I can tell you need someone to tell you when to stop.” 

Immediately, you got a little defensive. “No I don’t.” 

“Come on, I think the only time I’ve ever seen you take a break is when someone else said something, and I doubt it’s ever done without some kind of denial.” You looked down at the ground, slightly embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head. “People all across the community are going to be incredibly grateful for the hours you put in to help them, but it wouldn’t matter as much if you’re neglecting your own care.” 

You stopped, staring once more at the destruction in front of you. “Just because I’m not smiling and laughing for the camera doesn’t mean I’m not taking care of myself.” 

“Going hours without even a sip of water doesn’t exactly back that statement up you know.” 

“Fine,” you admitted. “Maybe you’re right, but it certainly doesn’t help when people like you show up to these scenes to sightsee all the destruction and try to get some clicks out of it.” 

His face changed in an instant, growing more somber than you’ve ever seen before. “Is that all you think we’ve been doing?” 

You nodded slowly, not sure what to expect from his change of attitude. 

“I suppose the way you’ve treated me makes sense now.” 

You stopped. “So you’re not just here for fun?” 

“Half of what we do can usually be considered stupid, I’ll admit that,” he said, looking over at you. “But it’s not all fun and games, I promise. See over there?” He gestured to where a group of people were standing around a table outside his team’s camper van, the reason for their presence obscured by the growing crowd gathering there. “A portion of our our t-shirt sales is put towards disaster kits, and my team over there is handing them out. Free of charge of course.” 

As your eyes focused on the scene, you could see he was right. There was no exchange of money as the team of people handed out boxes of food and bottles of water. You could see a stack of T-shirts sitting to the side, but even those were being handed out to the those that asked whenever requested. 

Immediately, you were overwhelmed with embarrassment at the way you had always perceived him, when all this time he had been doing so much to aid those who just had their lives disrupted. Maybe if you had taken the time to look past the thrill-seeking attitude you could have seen that, but instead you had been so wrapped up in your own life and work. “I’m so sorry for the way I saw you,” you said, turning towards Tyler with a sincere look on your face. “You want to help just as much as I do, and I let my opinion the ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona get in the way of understanding that.”

He smiled in a way that was more genuine than any of the others you had seen on him. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “But don’t worry about it, you’re not the first person to make the assumption, and you probably won’t be the last. I willingly drive into tornados for fun, it’s not exactly something you do if you’re not a little bit crazy.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, as a medical professional I really can’t condone that.”

“Most people would probably agree with you.” 

The two of you sat there for a few minutes more, a comfortable silence enveloping the air before you had to get back to work. There was still so much more to be done, and the daylight hours were slipping away. 

But as the two of you got up and you began to walk away, Tyler’s voice stopped you. “Hey.” 

Turning around to face him, a quizzical look overtook your face. “Hmm?” 

“I’ll see you around, alright?” 

You smiled, the cautious fluttering of tiny butterflies taking hold of your stomach. It was only a matter of time before this happened, you supposed, but you tried not to let anything show on your face. “Yeah,” you said, a genuine smile breaking through any attempt you made to remain nonchalant. “See you around.” 

***

That night, as you laid on the couch watching TV, you saw a text pop up on your phone from a number you didn’t recognize. 

It’s Tyler. Before you get mad at me, Isaac gave me your contact info. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, making a mental note to confront your friend later, that perceptive bastard. 

Do you wanna go out for drinks sometime? I don’t wanna have to wait for another tornado to see you. 

Sure, was the response you typed out and sent off, but on the inside, you were a lot more excited. 

Okay, maybe you didn’t have to be that hard on Isaac.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[henza-hex]

My Husband's Secret 4

Edward's POV

Leo came back from work yesterday a little aloof, he didn't talk much and spent most of the time reading something on his phone. I quickly got bored and went to sleep mad that he didn't give me any attention, and woke up even worse now that he's not on the other side of the bed.

I got out of bed and went stomping downstairs, he would hear a lot from me, don't wanna know how busy he was.

When I got to the kitchen, where I heard some noise, I couldn't help but gasp to this view:

Sagging, cheeks almost eating his underwear, and a slobby demeanor. Leo is not usually like this, even in our intimacy, although hot, I found it weird.

While he was trying to find something on the lower shelves, he noticed me.

"Finally youre awake, bro. I'm so hungry this morning that I almost thought of making ny own breakfast." He says, as he makes himself comfortable in the chair, putting his feet on the table. "Now you can make one for me."

I was very outraged. Horny, but mad. What is this? It's like he opened my secret diary and read all my fantasies.

"I'm not your bro, baby! What are you talking about? Can't you make breakfast for yourself?" I ask.

He gets up and look me straight into the eye: "What's the point of having a roomate then?"

When he said that, I got chills. So he was playing that? I remember having a roomate way before I met Leo. He was very hot, but wasn't one straight out of those 'alpha doms' fictions, so I could only imagine... and now finally becoming true? I decided to play along.

"The point of a roomate is to keep this house balanced together!" I say as I knock his feet off the table.

He got out of character just for a second to acknowledge that I got it. That stupid smirk.

He gets up and tower over me. I can only feel his hand grabbing the back of my head, burrying me on his hairy pits. How is he so sweaty this hour in the morning?

"The balance is you beneath me, gotcha? If I cook our breakfast, you are eating it straight of my feet." He said in a dominating tone.

Ugh. The same time his pits are warm and damp, I nodded with my head in agreement, cause the stink was too much.

"Good boy. Eggs, bacon, and milk."

"But you-"

"Don't wanna hear about my intolerance, or else youre down to the pits again."

I made our breakfast while he waited scratching his balls.

"Not gonna wash it?" I asked just to tease, and recieved a smash of his hands on my face.

"Clean, haha." He mocked and started to eat. Before I could grab anything, he took my plate too, and that left me a little pissed... play or not, I had to eat.

"Hey! That was mine!" I said with some anger this time. He completely ignored me, and finished his meal by chugging the glass of milk.

EEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

He shamelessly belched, patting his belly. "Oh, you want some? Here." In a quick move, he got up and turned around, taking advantage that I was sat, and my face was on the level of his ass. Hos cheeks molded all over my face, as he rubbed it to try to pry my mouth open.

"Eat that... HNNNG-"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

RIght on my mouth. It rumbled deeply by it's bassiness, and I can't even start with the taste. Terrible. I gagged and suffocated, passing out slowly, the last words I heard were: "Bon appetit, loser haha."

Leo's POV

It worked! Now quick, before he wakes up, I need to get the next character ready...

I was never a bully, but yesterday I found his old diary, and he wrote about that a lot, luckily I practiced some sports and still have some of my team's old gear... at least smells like it's not washed since high school too, good lord.

I check myself on the mirror, and those are so tight too, got so much bigger. Pretty sure he will love it.

I come back to where I left him and see that he is waking up. Think of something bully-ish...

OOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!

I easily rip a monstruous belch that takes him out of this lazy state in a second. Aa he opens his eyes, I make sure this the first thing he sees:

"Where am I?" He loosely asked.

"Where are you? In the locker room, loser. Now begin to do your job and sniff it!" I didn't give time for him to respond, I did. I sat on his face, full on his face. It kinda felt good to sense his nose finding his way into my crack, speacilly that I know he is secretely taking a big whiff of that... I could get used to this.

"Yeeah, take a big whiff of that..." I said as I felt my stomach churn wildly because of my earlier breakfast. Now was time for his real lunch.

HNNG.... FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT... it bubbled and rumbled so disgustingly that I felt bad for his poor face.

Me, not the bully Leo. "No, no, no, I got a lot more..." I said as I refused to give him a breath of fresh air and push another nasty one... PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT...

I lifted my ass a little just to have a look at his face and see if he is alright. Sweating, teary eyed, red from suffocating, and even though he managed to wink at me. Top tier bastard.

He was about to say something, and bully Leo took control. I descended my ass on his face again, and...

"Shouldn't have kept your mouth open, loser..." I enjoyed his feeble attempts to take me off of him, as I knew the next one was going to ne serious, I clenched my fists, closed my eyes and pushed real hard

"FART BOMB!" PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Edward's POV

The last one felt like a punch, I'm never feeding him milk and eggs at the morning, I fear for my life. But let me ask again...

"Where am I?" I hear footsteps into the room, and he comes in... now in a suit. I'm sure he wants to kill me.

"Mr. Rogers, you failed the last exam. I'm afraid I'll have to punish you."

"P-punish me? But I can assure you I'll study harder fir the next one, please!"

"If you get the answers right, I won't inflict you any punishment."

"But if I get it wrong?" I knew the answer and of course had to ask. He slowly descends to my level, face to face, answering me with long and deep belch.

OOOOOoooOOOOOUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrppppppp...Phoooshhh

And blowing it all afterwards.

"Understood? Now let's begin." Leo turns around and points his ass to my face. "Mr. Rogers, could you answer about..."

He proceeded to ask, and the only thing I could pay attention was this:

"Unfortunately oogling at my ass is not the right answer, mr. Rogers." He finished his sentence with a bang, farting full and real loud on my face.

FFRDRDRFFFFFFFRFRRRFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Couldn't ask for a better punishment...