#and dove makes fun of him
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cyril refuses to yawn in front of dove because dove will then drag him to bed by the arms so he just ends up making really weird faces trying to hold in yawns lauriet
#can you tell i love making these#i believe in sleepy cyril supremacy#reverie audios#reverie cyril#reverie dove#and dove makes fun of him#and narrates him trying to hold in a yawn like sports reporter#like#ladies and gents and all those in between and around#will he be able to hold it in#or will this be the moment thee cyril laurient sucumbs to slumber
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i personally have very complicated feelings on the Gotham Knights video game and the routes it takes with characterization. i think it has a charm to it and it goes in an interesting direction with everyone (especially within the confides of the plot of the game) but it does have certain moments that veer painfully fanon for me. (such as: the dialogue where Tim drinks too much coffee) it's an interesting story for what it is but i don't view it comics-based for characterization and therefore don't care to interact with it much for like. fanfic purposes.
that *said* though. i do have to give the game some kind of credit for giving one of the top five JayTim moments that lives rent free in my mind. every since i played the game, the cutscene lives in my mind daily. it's the specific cutscene where Jason and Tim are arguing about whether or not Jason's non-lethal bullets are too dangerous for the field, and the argument leads to TIm *standing in front of the target* Jason is shooting and telling Jason to shoot him. it lives rent free for me. i never stop thinking about this.
the absolute certainty Tim has that he is in no danger standing in front of Jason, who has a loaded gun pointed at his face. the way Jason *hesitates* for just a moment before lowering the gun. he thinks about it for just a second. Gotham Knights JayTim seem to get along very well and can rely on each other, but Jason still clearly holds a bitterness about his death and Tim that flickers through in some lines of dialogue under the guise of jokes. especially since this game deals *heavily* with concepts of Pit Madness causing an altered state of consciousness, i think it's believable that occasionally, Jason fights the urge to fight and hurt Tim for the feeling of being replaced.
i like their tension so much in this canon. they get along but you can *tell* Tim is afraid of addressing Jason's trauma or even addressing Jason head-on, and Jason leans into spooking Tim about it. which isn't very comics feeling in their dynamic, but it is an interesting way to place their dynamic if you're playing with a more timid Tim who's newer to the role of Robin. (which he seems to be in-game) he really doesn't want to offend Jason, or worse, piss him off. but he'll still face Jason head on for things like this, while completely aware of what Jason could be capable of.
and Jason seems very protective of Tim and respecting Tim as a Robin in typical Jason fashion. if Tim pushes, Jason *will* relent. he knows this is a kid who's proved himself and should be treated with equal respect, sometimes even more than Dick and Babs do in-game.
so for all that to culminate in Tim stepping in front of Jason's loaded gun that he *knows* is on the edge of being too dangerous, just to force Jason to listen? it's the most unhinged way Tim could've gotten his point across in this scene. he was literally daring Jason to hurt him and playing with a very dangerous fire. but he did it anyway bc he believed he could make Jason heel just at the thought of hurting Tim. and he was *right*. they're gay and i'm feral ty.
#necrotic festerings#jaytim#tim drake x jason todd#gotham knights game#i hate their character designs for what it's work#BUT the size difference. jesus.#anyway i could write a gotham knights jaytim fic i think#i'm *very* unsure the ages intended for these characters#bc tim certainly seems to be intended to be a teenager#whereas jason seems in his 20s so i think it's a gap that's bigger than the comics#which also makes it fun. usually you don't get a ton of age gap with jaytim they're just under 2 yrs apart#but this tim is definitely still a teen and jason is an adult.#and seems to enjoy being a bad influence on tim in the game so#there's such good fodder for some dead dove shit#anyway the funny thing is i like this game#you don't want to know how many hours i've played it#it's just best treated as a seperate iteration of the characters than being an adaptation of anything#esp since they're *so* vague and waffly on jason's backstory#as well as not giving a ton of info on how tim became robin#you assume it's similar to comics but some details leave gaps in the timeline. so idek#probably not somehting meant to be thought about too hard.#but i'm an overthinker at heart.#my point is they're gay. this is gay. it baffles me ppl don't look at this as the gayest shit alive.#tim daring jason to shoot him is the most tim drake thing in this game#well that and tim wanting to make a talon in the belfrey.#also NO one say a word about the gif quality /lh#i had to make it MYSELF#i do everything around here to show off their gay shit#sorta tempted to just make a masterpost of “every gay ass interaction between jaytim”#bc i've seen some clips from the titans show
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hi! just discovered this blog from your hearing loss post, which i ADORE. throughout it you mentioned pawspeak, and i was wondering if you had any sources/posts about it, or could describe its fundamentals very simply? sorry if youve already answered this!!! youre very cool
There's not too many fundamentals to share, really! Pawspeak is just the fandom term for a Clan cat sign language. Most people have their own takes on it.
Some people like to make it use two paws, other like to do a single paw in tandem with ear flicks and tail movements, some have omitted paw movements entirely and just use ear and tail signs. Most people aren't my queer ass who worked with a friend to ACTUALLY create a full Clan cat language with its own grammatical structure; so likewise, they're just making a cat approximation of a sign language.
So there's no rules! Do as you please! You can just adapt ASL or BSL for cat paws if you want, the same way no one bats an eye when people animate the cats lipsynching to English.
I would just try to remind you, and recommend, that your sign languages evolve from deaf people.
It's both a misconception, and insultingly common for media to show hearing people inventing sign language for the benefit of their deaf friends and family, when that's not how that happens. Deaf people have agency, theyre not just waiting for an abled person to bestow language on them. Deaf communities, and communities with high rates of hearing impaired people, come up with unique sign languages if they don't already have one!
These languages are often studied by linguists as examples of "isolate" language families, which mean they evolved without ANY genetic 'relation' to another language. Nicaraguan Sign Language is a neat example of that!
(The "hearing people invent sign" thing is perpetuated by the myth that Francosign, the language family containing ASL, was invented by one really nice philanthropist. It wasn't. The man took a bunch of words from an existing deaf community in Paris, which was likely a language under the BANZSL family, didn't care to record or learn what they were ALREADY speaking, and made up his own clunky system called "methodical signs" to make a "signed version" of French. This was practically useless for casual use. Actual deaf people mixed this with the languages they were ALREADY using to talk to each other to make new ones; one famous example of this is actually ASL.)
For BB I actually plan to show Pawspeak evolving as an isolate language after the Clan's move to the Lake. It's going to be born out of Gatherings and Aftergatherings-- while Clan cooperation has actually lead to a period so peaceful that it's allowed a proper community to form. Now with a stable population of hearing-impaired cats of all Clans, each of them bringing new signs and phrases home, it can standardize into a true language around the lake.
So then I can show how most of the signs come from RiverClan, mix with the signals WindClan uses to communicate across the moor, show how violent signs tend to be tail-based because they come from battle commands, etc.
It fits the themes of BB, and gives me a chance to show how fascinating sign languages really are. Even though it'd make sense for them to already have one, tbh, I think it's worth it. (Or maybe have Lake Pawspeak basically be a language that combined the several 'pawspeaks' of the various clans.)
#Stonewing is part of Berry's cats in canon. But I think in BB I need to make him a Heartstar loyalist#Because there's no way he wasn't close with Strike and Dove#Even in canon he was spotted with Strike a lot but in BB I've explicitly made Stone deaf#So Stone Strike and Dove are like a little community in ShadowClan#When the arc is over I'll sit down and sort the Shadow cats into camps. But tbf Heartstar's controversial but VERY popular with supporters#So it could be fun for Stone and his mate to end up on separate sides of that conflict#bone babble#pawspeak
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It's Golden Sun here, Golden Sun there!
Finally did something good for my boy Alex.
#sugar dove drawings#Alex#Goldensun#Golden Sun#GS#It's not the first drawing for him by me but it's the first one to look actually good XD#I love Alex he is simply fun but sometimes feels slappable :D#I want to make more fan art for GBA games I love though#Have a sweet day y'all 💗
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I had this idea ages ago for a Professor Layton sequel/spin-off centred around Luke called
Doctor Triton
Set about ten years after Lost Future.
Luke is back from America, studying zoology at Gressenheller and is completing his PhD.
Layton is semi-retired. He still lectures but has decided to leave most of the mystery-solving behind so he can (finally) focus on his students.
Luke now solves mysteries with Flora in his spare time.
Flora is always calling Luke Dr Triton, to impress their clients, and tease Luke, and Luke always tries to correct her that he’s not a doctor yet but he just gets flustered and embarrassed.
Katrielle exists in this universe, but she’s not related to anyone. She’s a massive Professor Layton fan and believes she is a better ‘heir’ to the Layton legacy than Luke.
As a result, Katrielle forms a one-sided rivalry with Luke.
She’s always popping up when they least expect her, like Chloe in Touch Detective.
Emiliana replaces Chelmey as the Scotland Yard representative. Hastings is her Barton, though he outranks her since she is a newer member of the force.
Emmy reappears, perhaps with a mystery for Luke to solve.
Clive is out on parole (I realise due to his crimes he probably wouldn't be but let's pretend ok), but he’s unable to find work after the whole trying to destroy London thing. So, he turns to Luke and Flora to ask if they’ll give him a job at their mystery-solving office thing or whatever. Luke accepts since a true gentleman always forgives others.
Clive will have his colour scheme be mainly green since blue (Luke), orange/red (Layton, pink/red (Flora) and yellow (Emmy) are already taken and purple won’t suit him (though maybe it could…).
Flora has learnt fencing from Layton.
Flora is feisty and tough, but still has her cuteness and sweetness.
Luke is more mature and he tries to act like Layton would, but is still a bit of an idiot. He tries to avoid going to Layton for help if only because he wants to prove himself
Clive is the one who balances the group and is usually the one who stops arguments between the two.
Alternative idea:
Layton has taught Flora his mystery solving skills and decided to retire from mystery solving.
Flora, unfortunately, ends up with a case she is stuck on.
Luckily, Luke is back to complete his doctorate in zoology at Gressenheller and Flora forces him to help. It turns out that Luke’s ability to talk to animals comes in handy and they make a breakthrough.
Luke ends up becoming an ‘animal detective’: his clients are animals who lead him to mysteries that need solving.
#Professor Layton#Luke Triton#Flora Reinhold#Clive Dove#I actually think Katrielle is pretty fun but her game is not#Like watching the anime she works#but her style just doesn't work for a 'Layton Game'#Buuut... if you make her a minor antagonist instead...#Her 'annoyingness' feels more appropriate#even with NWOS I feel this could still work#in fact if Luke has a reputation in America it'd make more sense why people are approaching him with mysteries#or we could even just have the mysteries be set in America#this was planned back when L5 were all 'We can't imagine him in America'#It'd provide a good excuse for why Layton isn't available#and Emmy could be a part of the trio perhaps instead of Clive
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wholesome snow au snippet………... they’re brothers :)
#this is from the fiiiirst chapter of the next fiiiiic#and i want to put it here. for myself mostly. i love snow au posting it’s fun i need to do it more lol#things that grow in the snow au#dsmp#bird writing#dove talks#this section is fun because they’re actually mostly happy :]#and ranboo is able to joke around and say he won’t do things people want him to! which is some Growth!#considering he’s. you know. the guy who washed dishes even though it makes his skin melt.#granted he can only really do that with tommy because tommy is incredibly unintimidating. but it’s still growth#and tommy is doing okay in this too. he’s got some of his self respect back#secret upcoming content involves him no longer being absolutely fucking terrified of wilbur lmao#he’s still a little uneasy. but he’s doing better :]#someone please talk to me about snow au tommy and ranboo they are so important to me#also having snowtommy be an artist was such a big brain idea honestly. it suits him so much#and also opens up fun bonding/parallel potential between him and his brothers (who are also artists in their own ways)#it’s just so smart. im so good at writing characters#changed it 2 screenshots bc the post was too long for my taste. idk
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Shy!reader and post prison Spence - the first time he calls her a pet name? I love that your Spencers always use “honey” or “dove” or “love” and we know she’d be a mess.
P.S. completely agree with how much I love the gentleness of your characters. The way you write Spencer in love is literally my favorite
ty for requesting <3 fem
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
Spencer holds a hanging strap. You hold your own, core tense with the movement of the train. “I think I would’ve mentioned it before you got on the train if it weren’t.”
You nod, glancing around the traincar at the other passengers. There's a stout lady wearing a large fluffy sweater, turquoise with two white kittens at her chest nuzzling one another in knit. A man with three bags of groceries sits just beside her. Further down, a teenage girl listens to music through leaking headphones, her phone reflecting blue light on her cheeks.
“But are you sure I won’t be an imposition?”
“You aren’t usually. I guess we won’t know until we get there.”
“Maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.”
“Y/N, I’m kidding. You’re not an imposition, it won’t be a problem. There’s enough room at my apartment for you to stay however long you want. Between all the books, that is.”
It’s just not something you pictured asking him for. Your kitchen flooded in your apartment and the landlord had to put you up in a hotel until he could get someone in to make sure the stove wasn’t about to explode or catch light. But the idea of a hotel is rough torture —somewhere unfamiliar, living out of a suitcase, surrounded by people you don’t know without a door that locks properly. Spencer caught you sweating over it at your desk, pulling the story from you in reluctant drags with a hand on your shoulder.
It’ll be okay, he said, you can just stay with me.
Which is relieving and somehow a new can of worms to deal with. At least at a hotel there was no chance of seeing Spencer in a towel. Spencer seeing you in a towel, in your pyjamas, without your formal office protections.
The worst part is the excitement.
Terrified he’ll see it on your face, you stare at your shoes next to his. Spencer… Everyone told you he was a dork. When you joined the team in his absence, not once did you get the impression that the man who’d be coming back was like this. You feel like he’d been infantilised. Which isn’t to say he isn’t a dork, he is, he tells you the strangest things, facts or statistics to accompany each topic of the day, and he has all the manners and chivalry of someone who knows what it’s like to be as painfully shy as you are. But he isn’t shy.
Autistic, he’d confided once. Probably. I’m better at dealing with it now.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Nervous.”
“I know.” He grasps your arm as the train screeches on tracks, turning a tight bend. You’re grateful, but immediately flushed with heat.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You couldn’t. I think I know you too well already.”
“You’ve known me for less time than the rest of the team, but you were the first person to offer me a place to stay.” You clench the rickety handle of your suitcase. “Thank you.”
“That’s okay, angel.” He says it simply and softly, like you really are an angel. Something breathless to wait with.
Angel, you think, heart skipping a beat, pulse slow and then suddenly ramped.
His arm slips behind your back. “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel if it’s going to scare you. Besides, it’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.” He laughs. And you, despite your flush, heat sinking across your chest like a bruise, manage to laugh back. “I’ve never had one before.”
“What?”
“Never had a sleepover. I didn’t have any friends in school, and I haven’t had a girlfriend stay the night before.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, expecting a retraction. Not that you’re my girlfriend, not that you’re anything like that at all.
He smiles at you. “Should we get takeout?”
“What were you thinking?”
“There’s an Indian restaurant between the station and my apartment? We can stop in. Or we can order something to come. Or I can cook, if you want home cooked.”
“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to cook–”
His lips turn to a quizzical pout. “I don’t mind.”
You want him to call you angel again. You want him to take you home, make you dinner, and you want to sleepover. Like a girlfriend, you want to wake up in his bed.
“Sorry,” you breathe, “I think I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure?” You nod. “Alright. I was worried you didn’t like the pet name, but your pupils dilated when I said it–”
You can’t escape him. One hand in the hanging strap above, the over on your suitcase handle, you have no choice but to stand there with his arm around you to keep you from falling, face so hot with it that you’re sure you’d be feverish to the touch. “It’s fine,” you say, too afraid to look at his face that you end up staring at the nice shape of his throat, his black and purple tie. “Call me what you want. Um, I think we should get Indian.”
“Good choice, angel.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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the redbull princess
max verstappen
tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, mad!max, rough sex, chokehold, jealousy, jealous!max, slutty!reader, threats of baby trapping, dirty talk/degrading language, bruises & bites
everyone adored you. the angel, the dove, the princess of redbull. beloved by fans, drivers, even the british press had a soft spot for the princess. you even made the likes of toto wolff feel soft with your sweet smiles and positive demeanor.
max had the (mis)fortune of being your teammate, after checo's retirement you were scooped from alpine and given the sought after seat. you were magnetic, charming in ways that made you a darling, even when you failed to win a race. but, you were a winner. a princess in her chariot passing all the others on the track.
max just simply thought that a princess deserved her prince.
"maxie." you pouted as you leaned up against your teammate, "whatcha doing?"
max looked up at you. he was currently on his knees as he tried to set up his sim-racing for the weekend. he asked, "how did you get into my room?"
you shrugged, "don't think about it too hard. i wanted to see what you were doing! you didn't to lunch, so i got... worried." you gave a small laugh. there was a look in your eyes. you weren't here to check on max. not when you were dressed in a tank top, shorts with that thin gold chain around your neck. you played with it between your fingers, "you look like you need a break."
there it was. max chuckled as got up from being almost under the desk. when he stood up, he eventually had to look a little down at you. red bull's princess wasn't the angelic virgin that many assumed. you had a dark streak to you.
you had most of the paddock wrapped around your fingers. charles, george, alex, even horner. and especially max. a simple look got you everything you wanted. a laugh had many men a little flustered. so of course max couldn't help but wrap his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to him. he looked at you, his eyes were so blue.
you licked your lips, "what do you say, maxie... let's have a little fun before our weekend begins.' then leaned in to give his a kiss square on the lips.
the kiss didn't last long before max pulled away and held you by the back of the head. he looked at you, something jealous crossed his expression, "i know what you're trying to do. you think that you can get out of this with a few thrusts of your hips...it's cute honestly, thinking that you're so much smarter than you actually are."
you swallowed and realized that you were playing with fire at that moment. you felt your pulse quicken when he put an hand around your throat. not enough to choke you, but enough to get you looking at him. he smiled and you wondered what he had planned.
you really shouldn't have flirted with max's secondary rival. you shouldn't have been smiles and giggles with lando days prior. you whispered things into the brit's ear and giggled when you pulled away. you didn't get too far, he pulled you in and in a quiet privacy, he kissed you on the lips.
max could've killed lando over that.
you pouted a little more, "i said it was sorry, max. you can't be mad at me forever!" and max crowded your space a little more and looked down at you with something in his eyes that spelled danger.
he said, "no, i can't. but i can try." he took you by the hair, "so i guess you'll just have to make it up to me." and soon you ended face first on the bed. red bull's prince was often possessive of it's princess as he got into bed with you and pulled down your shorts. he pressed his weight up against you to keep you pinned down to the bed.
you moaned, "fuck, max. i'm sorry! i mean it! i mean it!" you tried to squirm out from under him as he got your shorts off of you and near ripped your panties off of you.
max frowned as he got his shirt off over his head, "sorry isn't going to cut it. you are such a whore, you like having all these drivers' eyes on you. i bet you've fucked top to bottom the grid." he raked his nails down your sides and watched you try to get out from his touch.
you whimpered, "no! no!" you knew that was a lie. if max wasn't going to fuck you tonight. you had a few other keycards in your back pocket. you were that charming. max was just lucky to be your first pick.
and you knew that he wouldn't give up the chance to sink into your poor cunt tonight. give you something to scream about. he stripped you of your clothes, tossed them off the bed before he was fully nude as well. he bit into your shoulder roughly as he sank his teeth in your shoulder and pressed himself further against you.
the indents of his teeth promised a bruise come morning. and he held onto you tightly as he moved at a quick pace. his voice in your ear with his chest against your back. there was no escaping max verstappen, "you know you can be a good girl, right? i know it's in you. the press think you're so perfect princess and you could be that if you just stop being a goddamn whore. i see right through the act, i know after a race you want this cunt stuffed. you want to squirm on my cock, you want it to hurt. because you are a glutton for pain. a disgrace to all women in the sport. you set them back by being a stupid, cock hungry slut." his words burned in your brain and you felt the heat pool in your gut.
you gasped into the covers and said, "please, max. holy shit. ah!" you knew that max was the best fuck in the grid. at least to you. most gave you the princess treatment or were worried about being too rough. you found them boring unless you were in a bit of a pinch.
but not max. the current world champion fucked you until there were sparks in your vision. he left your pussy soaked and your brain empty. he made all his degrading words ring true, you were nothing more than a soft cunt for max to fuck. that was why you always came back to him. he had that effect on you.
he was your favourite. not that you'd let him know that. as he thrusted up into you and left you feeling the pleasurable heat in the back of your head and down your shoulders. it was the buzz that left you shaking. it was the heated want that left you panting into the covers.
you were the princess, but max knew better than that. the smiles were all part of your little performance. if you had it your way, you'd be doing interviews with runny mascara and cock down your throat. but, you were still very capable on the track. one of the best they ever had, you just enjoyed having your world flipped inside out and upside down due to orgasm after orgasm. that max was more than happy to provide.
"please, max. fuck, please max!" you gasped loudly. your back arched, but you didn't get too far. you were rather stuck under max as he fucked up into you. the headboard rocked against the white wall of the room.
"you don't deserve the princess treatment they give you. the press give you. you don't deserve any of it! you deserve whatever you can get it. you let men much more powerful than you do terrible things to you." he wrapped his arm around your throat and continued to fuck up into you. the bed moved every more as he jackhammered his cock inside of you. your body bounced with each of his movements.
you felt stupid as he fucked you. your tongue hung out of your mouth a little as his cock hit against all against the right areas. he knew exactly how to make you crazy. how to make you feel so much dumber with strokes of his hips.
"but you're mine." he said, "in the end your mine. i let you play your silly little games, be the charming little flirt i know you are." he tensed up his arm around your throat as he continued to slam his cock in and out of you. the pace was brutal and the movements made your heartbeat hammer in your ears. he could feel every inch of you as he fucked you with a fierce fever.
you tried to say something, but the words died in your throat.
he chuckled and kissed the side of your face. then he pushed your face further into the covers. he still held you in a choke-hold as he fucked you roughly. he said quietly as the bed squeaked under you, "i'm not stupid, princess. you think i'm some idiot, but i'm not... maybe tonight's the night we end these little games. what do you say? maybe tonight you and i should make a baby... end these games and finally make you all mine."
you whined and tried to get out of his grasp. but he was simply much stronger. he chuckled and kissed you on the face once more as he quickened his pace. it left you feeling on cloud nine as he really worked himself inside of you.
the princess was at his mercy. such a shame.
with a few more heavy thrusts, you came around his cock. your noise was a high pitched as you clawed at the covers. you panted heavily and felt so pathetic under him. and he loved the sight of you, you looked beautiful. angelic. he had you all to himself.
"see, you can be a good! make such a good mother to my children. that'll fix you right now." he buried his face in your neck as he continued to fuck you roughly. he didn't last much longer, a few more heavy thrusts of his hips and he was finishing inside of you with a hot groan in your ear.
he kept his arm around you, a hold to keep you still while he fucked his spent cock inside of you to push all the cum further inside of you. the over stimulation let you feeling dizzy. and when max finally let go of you, you laid out on the bed like a dumb little toy.
he slapped your ass before he panted heavily beside you. you curled up next to him, there was a reason why he was your favourite fuck of them all. he took you by the jaw and you looked back at him.
"going to behave now?"
"yes, maxie."
-
max heard your giggled nearby and his head whipped around.
you looked at max out of the corner of your eye before you went back to kissing lando deeply. you smiled against the kiss before you said to lando, "why don't you come visit me tonight, we could have some before the weekend?' and winked at the other driver.
max clenched his fists and exhaled deeply. like hell lando was going to your room tonight. because by the time he got there, max would already be keeping those greedy holes of your filled.
he knew the last thing you wanted was the princess treatment. <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one smut#f1 smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen#max smut#mv33 smut#mv1 smut#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x you#red bull racing
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https://www.tumblr.com/necrotic-nephilim/761747687384252416/i-dont-care-how-much-you-hate-me-you-need-to?source=share
so i'm imagining that tim gets free
(maybe it's steph who's on the outs with tim and doesn't believe him about bruce but sure as fuck doesn't approve of whatever the hell this is or maybe it's damian who's jealous that tim is getting any so much of dick's attention despite the fact that he's the heir and robin)
regardless tim gets the fuck out of gotham and goes on his international art theft adventure to find bruce
unfortunately for everyone dick processes to lose his shit and now damian (and steph to a lesser extent) is doing for dick what tim did for bruce
also a lot of heroes are drawing parallels between this and b reaction after jason died
anyway tim gets his proof (and get saved by jason bc jason's looking at dick all "this is really creepy actually and i don't want you anywhere near tim despite how bad our relationship is")
tim then goes to green arrow with his proof because he knows that man would call dick out no matter what costume he's wearing and he actually does an ok job with all the kids he picks up
there's a jla meeting and dick sees tim and is just as unstable as tim guessed he would be and it's pinging everyone's radar as A Problem now
but obviously they get bruce back and no this is his problem bc literally everyone in the league is like "pls keep dick away from tim, his behavior has passed weird and gone into extremely unsettling"
i can't see what happens next bc i can't imagine bruce actually being help but i can see him being a disaster when he tries and that would be funny
this is SO good anon i love all of these things based on that fic so much aaaa
personally when i was writing it, i imagined Jason being the one to break Tim free. not out of wanting to save Tim or anything, but more so seeing it as a chance to make Tim owe him, and just to fuck with Dick. Jason will cause problems because He Can, and while i don't think he would particularly care for the moral implications of Dick holding Tim hostage (Jason was morally all over the place during Dick's Batman era i fear) he's just morbidly curious. that said the idea of Steph being the one to do so is also fun, because for her it *would* be the moral issue as well as caring about Tim. i think the most fun option is somewhere in the middle, where Jason and Steph are forced to team up, each with different end goals and not trusting each other whatsoever. so when they succeed and get Tim safely out of Dick's hold, there's a deep disagreement and slight scuffle over what to do now, Jason trying to manipulate Tim further against Dick and onto his side, whereas Steph is just prioritizing Tim's safety. i think it's fun if Tim is slightly mentally broken, just from how long he was held captive and the realization of Dick's feelings at the end fo the fic. so he's distrusting of anyone he's once trusted, even Steph, that he just slips away to focus on getting Bruce back, leaving both Jason and Steph trying to chase Tim. and course, Dick.
because Dick would of course try to get Tim back, again and again. Damian is trying to reel Dick back, just because he wants Dick's attention and he does sort of believe they should focus on Gotham. and then Steph is also trying to distract Dick to protect Tim. so everyone's tail spinning in the most complicated game of cat and mouse. Steph and Damian are forced on the same side, trying to get Dick to focus on Gotham instead of Tim, just for now. Steph is promising to keep an eye on Tim, Damian is insisting Gotham needs Dick's attention and combined, they're able to at least keep his immediate focus away from Tim, giving Tim time to find his proof. Jason having to save him is just *fun*, because it reinforces how sort of helpless Tim is. he's not up on his training and his become soft and with Dick's need to catch up to him eventually, it puts him in a vulnerable spot he would *hate.* he'd despise needing to be saved by Jason of all people. it'd fuck him up so bad, because all the bad things Jason is saying about Dick are technically true and somehow, the world is so flipped upside down that Jason is the reasonable one. i think it'd make Tim isolate more and more, distancing himself from the Batfamily, even the ones he should trust like Steph. sure, he's on the outs with her (likely still upset from the Search For A Hero arc) but she's looking out for him. and maybe he knows it, deep down, but Tim is just terrified of trusting anyone associated with the Bat name.
and since he can't go to the Batfam with his proof, him going to Oliver is *so* fun. i adore any concept where Oliver is the one to notice something is very wrong in the Batfam i swear anon it's like you're connected to my BRAIN. because sure Oliver doesn't *like* Bruce, but even Oliver knows this is fucked up. the story Tim tells him is a horrifying one. Oliver has always done right by his kids, or at least tried his best to. so to know what Dick pulled is horrifying. there's this implicit trust the entire hero community has in Nightwing that would get badly shaken up and i think that's fun. the Justice League meetings about it would be a shitshow. someone like Clark who's as close to Dick as he is would want to at least hear Dick out, try to understand his point of view. maybe Dick was in the wrong, but he had to have been doing this out of a place of concern and Tim's just twisted up about Dick's intentions. at the very least, trust in Dick is shattered but no one can agree on what to do, if they can do anything at all. it's agreed to keep TIm safe and away from Dick and long talks are had with Dick, but Dick is disturbingly good at being charming and manipulative, convincing them all he's sorry and he knows he took it too far, it's just the stress of the mantle that got to him.
and Bruce coming back would further complicate things in such fun ways. because Bruce will *always* protect and side with Dick. yes, he's worried about Tim, but he refuses to let any negative blowback hit Dick for this. because sure, Bruce would've never done that, but also, Bruce has done equally shitty things so, he's also not going to fully question it. Dick made a judgment call in the heat of the moment, and now, Bruce is going to defend his right to do so. it sends the League even more out of control, because they didn't expect Bruce to be so deeply on Dick's side. the phase "what would Bruce think?" got thrown at Dick a lot by all of them and now, well. they look a bit like fools for it because Bruce has made it clear what he thinks is that Dick had the right to make the call he thought was best as Batman. so while Dick is socially exiled, he doesn't face any *real* consequences. he's still in hero society and is respected as Nightwing and allowed to exist on the League. Dick just patiently waits for it all to blow over because eventually, there's always something more important to focus on that will make people forget about this outside of just a weird bad mistake Dick made.
and the longterm for TIm is fun. because I think he'd keep his distance from Gotham and Bludhaven, mostly keeping around Oliver, given Oliver is one of the few League members still refusing to let it all go, and it gives Tim some kind of safety net. but i think Dick would still try to pursue Tim. Dick would convince himself he just went about it the wrong way, he came on a little too strongly and he can still fix it. he keeps harassing Tim and trying to get Tim to like him back, making it clear he has no real regret for his actions. i think it's fun if Tim is forced to fake a relationship with someone else to get Dick to leave him alone. maybe Jason, maybe Steph. (honestly, this being JayTimSteph could be fun) and that fake relationship ends up developing into something more real, which would make Dick *insanely* jealous. i'm torn between Dick actually taking it too far (possibly forcing himself on Tim) or keeping his distance because both are fun. i'm partial to him forcing himself on Tim, just for the fucked up non-con that Tim has to cope with, knowing nothing he does will get Dick to leave him alone. he learns the best ways to stay safe, but it essentially kills his ability to have a vigilante career bc it puts him too out in the open. he takes a more Oracle-esque role (Tim working with the Birds of Prey could be a lot of fun) and always lives in some kind of fear of Dick catching up to him. it's so fun and fucked up that even when Tim escapes, he doesn't really and he knows it.
#necrotic answerings#dicktim#potential jaytimsteph#dead dove do not eat#batcest#this is SO fun anon you had so many good ideas#sorry I took a second to answer this#I couldn't decide if I wanted to write a fic for it#the answer is I don't have time rn#but I may come back to it!#bc you brought up such good concepts in all this#I just love Tim getting out but not really ever being free yk?#he's too on edge to relax even if dick does finally give up#it's crunchy.#anyhow I need to shower bc i'm busy as hell today. I'm getting drunk lads.#saying that at 6 am is concerning.#anyway I like the idea of like. everyone knows it's fucked up but no one is willing to make dick face Real Consequences#esp when Bruce is backing him up#so fucked up and fun I tell you
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i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)
previous
You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.
He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—
(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)
The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.
“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.
“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.
He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.
So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.
“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.
“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”
You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)
“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.
“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”
“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.
A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.
But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.
“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”
“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”
He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.
It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.
Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.
“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”
“I know you are,” he says.
He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.
“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”
-
No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask
#answered#price x reader#price x you#price x y/n#captain john price#john price#price smut#john price x reader#john price x you#mwritesprice#madi writes#one more of these and I’ll have to make a master list
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⸺ baby's favorite
✦ dragon!sylus x reader contents: myth/dragon sylus, dragon baby!, fluff wc: 586 notes: scrappy and kinda sloppy but i needed girldad!sylus AND dragon!sylus, whats better than to just put them together!
“i told you to watch her while i was gone.”
“and i am watching her.” sylus hums lightly, ignoring the slight tone of annoyance in your voice as he dangles their rowdy daughter by her leg. he’s laying down with one arm propped to hold his head up with the tip of his long tail wrapped around her small, chubby ankle. regardless that his tail was covered in hard, jagged scales, their daughter, dove, squeals happily. sylus playfully swings her side to side, smiling when her loud giggles echoes throougout the cave.
ever since their daughter was born, their little cave seemed to glow a little bit brighter. warm, comforting, and baby proof. soft leather pads replacing the hoards of gold and jewels, candle lights burning brightly whereas the only source of light was once the gap above for the sun to shine through. you truly try your best to make this cave safe and sound for your daughter… except things become difficult whenever you get reminded where half of her blood comes from.
dove was a hybrid, yet… looked like an exact copy of her father. silver hair, black scales, ruby red eyes, and recently, tiny black wings have sprouted from her back, along with an uncontrollable tail that knocks down everything in its path. you can only handle her when she’s willingly. nowadays, sylus has to practically wrestle her to keep her in check.
‘you’ll make her dizzy, sy.” you scold him for a second time as you set down the small basket of goods you bought from tarus city.
“i’m simply entertaining her so she doesn’t… fly off the cliff again.” sylus chuckles lightly, ignoring the way you glare at him for laughing. it’s been twice now that dove has somehow rolled herself off the cliff. small, weak wings flapping for a moment before is sylus swooping in and catching her mid air. he swears up and down that it’s always accidents, but you can’t help but think sylus just wants her to be able to fly with him and see her spread her wings.
must be the dragon in her that makes her so rowdy and eager to run off with him. makes sense considering her father is the only one who can truly handle her.
you come over and quickly turn your daughter right side up, pulling her from the grasp of his tail. dove whines softly, complaining as she makes grabby hands for sylus.
“no no no, your daddy is a bad influence.” you say in a faux serious tone, wagging your face in front of dove’s tiny face. her red eyes track your finger before pouting, as if she understood your words.
“bad influence?” sylus repeats, coming behind you to look over your shoulder at her. “mommy doesn’t like when you have fun with me, isn’t that right?” he scoffs, smugly smirking when dove immediately lets go of your finger and makes grabby hands towards him instead.
you don’t even have time to comment before he suddenly reaches in to take dove out of your arms. sylus throws the tiny dragon baby into the air, smiling when she bursts into a fit of giggles. you watch with a defaeted smile as he spins and throws her around, letting her float her way back down, baby wings fluttering.
“look, can mommy make you laugh like this?” sylus taunts playfully, “hm i don’t think so.” his ruby eyes flicking from dove to you as her laughter warms the cave a little.
#h4venpha#sylus#love and deepspace#sylus lads#lads#sylus myth#love and deepspace sylus#lads fluff#sylus fluff#sylus x mc#love and deepspace fluff#✮₊ H4VENPHA COLLECTION#⟢ love and deepspace works
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.
“What is it?” your coworker asked.
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.
author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.
#—written by jade 🌿#jujutsu kaisen writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#satorugojo#gojosatoru#jjk#jujutsukaisen#gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#gojo#gojo jjk#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#bratbby333
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remus x his girl with sleepy girl syndrome.
at a friendly gathering and she is trying SO hard to stay awake.
love u and ur work pls take care of urself
Thank you angel!
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 516 words
Remus watches you from the corner of his eye. You’re drooping, elbow propped on the table and chin propped on your hand, watching James and Sirius tell a story through half-lidded eyes. Remus leans over to speak to you at a murmur.
“Want to go home?”
He immediately regrets phrasing it that way. You sit up straighter and look at him with forced attentiveness. “No,” you say, lips tilting upward for his benefit. “I’m having fun.”
Remus doesn’t think you’re lying, but enjoyment and exhaustion aren’t mutually exclusive. Dinner has gone on longer than either of you expected, dusk turning to true darkness and streetlamps flickering on outside the pub. He thinks you’re probably barely keeping yourself awake.
“We could go, though,” he suggests gently. “I’m starting to feel ready for bed, too.”
“Let’s stay a while longer,” you say, though you loop your arm through his, leaning against his side. “I want to hear the rest of the story.”
That last part is said just a bit more intentionally. Remus follows your gaze down the table to James, whose attention has caught on you. He doesn’t seem to know what’s passing between you and Remus, is too far away to have heard your small conversation, but he smiles anyway at your last words.
It’s a lucky thing that his gaze wanders from you as he gets deeper into the story again. Soon your head dips until it’s resting on Remus’ shoulder. He keeps still, only wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you tucked up against his side. Your eyelids droop and then shut.
Remus strokes slow lines over your ribs with his thumb as James and Sirius wrap up their story. The length is somehow unaffected by how fast they tell it, voices overlapping and obscure details added between bouts of laughter, but eventually it’s done. Lily smiles into her drink, watching you.
Cute, she mouths to Remus.
He gives her a smile in return that says he knows.
“Sweetheart.” He kisses your hair. “Let’s go, yeah? Let’s go home.”
“Mm?” You come awake with a remarkable job of acting, pretending as if you’ve never been asleep at all. “No, I’m good.”
Remus grins down at you. He reaches for your coat. “You made it to the end of the story. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“I did?” Your brow furrows, and Remus realizes you really hadn’t known you’d been sleeping at all. “Oh, shit. M’sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he laughs, standing and encouraging you along with him by your elbow. “I think we’re just ready to get some sleep. Here, dove.”
He helps you into your coat, the both of you saying goodbye to your friends before leaving the warmth of the pub for the cool night. You attach yourself to Remus’ side instantly, arm wound through his.
“Think you’ll be able to make the walk home?” he asks, only half teasing but wholly fond.
Your reply is less jocular. “Yeah, I think so. Might lean on you if you don’t mind, though.”
Remus tuts, kissing your head. “I never mind.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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How about 141 taking care of reader who has painful cramps/ periods👁️👁️
Get this: within about six hours of me posting the first of these double drabbles to ao3, I started my period. Clearly, it was meant to be. All of these are fluffy and sweet, but Soap's a little...flirty. I had a lot of fun with this one! Thanks for sending it in!!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Presented in four double drabbles.
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, brief suggestive themes, flirting, forehead kisses, all comfort no hurt
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
“You need to eat something.”
“I’d rather not,” you mutter, turning your face into the pillow beneath your head.
John places his hands on his hips. He’s not annoyed with you, but you can tell from his facial expression that he’s unhappy with your answer.
“I know your stomach hurts, love,” he says sympathetically. “I know you’re in pain.”
“Do you?” you counter, wanting to be stubborn just for the sake of it.
“But you’re losing iron. And you haven’t eaten,” he checks his watch, “in almost twenty-four hours.”
You scoff. “Keeping tabs on me?”
“Always,” he replies.
It’s not a lie. John almost knows your habits and routine better than you do. He’s the one constantly reminding you about one thing or another.
“Bleeding from your vagina will do that,” you reply sarcastically.
John’s response is a deep sigh. It almost—almost—makes you laugh.
With a groan, John goes down on one knee, bringing himself to your level. “Dove,” he murmurs.
“Don’t,” you warn. John never calls you “dove” unless he’s about to tell you to do something.
“You can stay here. On the sofa. But you’re going to eat.”
“Am I?”
“You need to fuel that body.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“That can’t be comfortable, love.” Simon’s voice is gruff, but laced with tenderness.
You’re face down on the living room floor, curled up in a fetal position. With both fists clenched, you press them sharply into your abdomen. It’s dulling the pain a bit.
“I’m perfectly fine on the floor,” you mutter, voice muffled by the carpet.
Simon sighs. You aren’t sure what he’s doing until you see movement in your peripheral. Simon gets down on your level. He’s flat on his stomach, arms crossed with chin resting on top.
“You mind if I join you down here?” he asks.
“No,” you reply, turning your head to look at him.
"How is this not hurting your back?"
“It does. But the cramps are worse.”
He starts rattling off options. “Ice pack? The heating pad? Tylenol? A shot of vodka? Your favorite takeaway?”
“All of the above,” you answer with a deep sigh.
“Aces,” groans Simon, rolling onto his side.
Simon disappears. Returning, he places a chilled bottle of vodka with a shot glass next to your head along with extra strength pain relievers, an ice pack, the heating pad, and a glass of water.
“Takeaway will be here in thirty.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“You want cuddles?”
“No.”
“Kisses?”
“I’m fine.”
Johnny scoots a little closer on the bed. He lays on his side, one hand propping up his head as he stares down at you. You are on your back in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. The hood is up, strings pulled taut. Even with pain relievers, the ache continues.
“I read somewhere on the internet—”
“Johnny,” you warn.
“—having an orgasm or two can help.”
“Oh my God,” you mutter, closing your eyes, breathing through your nose.
He shrugs. “Don’t mind a bit of blood.” You side-eye him but Johnny continues to talk.
“Not on my face.” He gives you his best smile. “Or my dick.”
“If you touch me, I might punch you,” you deadpan.
Johnny nods slowly and then flops onto his back. “I’ll bring you the heating pad.”
“That would be great,” you murmur, staring up at the ceiling.
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, simply lingering in the silence. You try to focus your breathing, to inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. It’s almost relaxing.
“So,” begins Johnny. “You want that orgasm?”
“Please shut up.”
“Heard.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You are cocooned in soft blankets, wrapped up like an overstuffed Chipotle burrito. Everything hurts from your abdomen to your lower back. The pain and discomfort radiate outward. Your head throbs.
A pair of legs step into your line of sight. You glance upward and find Kyle. He stares down at you a moment before slowly sinking to the floor, taking a seat next to the couch.
“Brought you a hot water bottle,” he murmurs, presenting it. You open the blanket just enough for him to slide it in. “I’ve got the kettle on. I’ll bring you a cuppa once it’s done.”
“Thank you,” you reply, voice a little scratchy.
Kyle places a plastic bag in his lap and opens it up. “Bought you some of your favorites.” Reaching in, Kyle takes snack after snack out, lining them up on the coffee table. “I also picked up some pain medicine. Not sure which you prefer so I got one of each.”
Balling up the bag, Kyle rests his chin on the edge of the sofa. “Love you,” he whispers.
“Love you, too,” you say, just as softly.
Kyle lightly kisses your forehead. “I’ll come check on you in a few.”
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— THE THRILL OF THE HUNT.
♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann literally hunts down the reader, Small outburst at the end, and a lot of bullshit talk about hunting because I like it, DEAD DOVE. No violence was used.
Synopsis: You escape from Johann, he has to track you down. WORD COUNT: 1.6k
Johann wasn't exactly the thrill-seeking kind. He always preferred a slow-paced life, not filled with many excitements or tragedies. He wasn’t an adventurous spirit or a fiery soul in search of greater meaning. In his head, the only thing he needed was you.
And maybe that’s why this exact moment made his blood boil with newfound rapture, he could swear for a moment his skin bumped at the feeling of his heart throbbing so quickly against his ribcage. The thrill of the hunt, like his father used to say, made mere men become beasts, some because it was vital for their survival, others because of the rush of power it gave them.
But he couldn’t quite understand it until now. For him, hunts weren’t that exciting. The game was always too easy to track down, the footsteps effortlessly concealed. The gun didn’t feel heavy enough. His breath didn’t quicken at the mere chance of letting his prey slip away; he’ll always find a way to reach them again, after all. Animals have their habits; they’re easy to decipher once you know their true nature.
This is the type of hunt he’s been craving for so long. Johann had to press a hand against his mouth to prevent a low chuckle from escaping. Oh, how right his father was. This was truly trilling to the core, the kind of thrill that made a foreign heat rise towards his head and seep into his very brain tissue.
Humans aren’t like animals, their behavior is a little more erratic, animals can be divided between highly intelligent beings and straight-up dumb ones, but humans? All of them had their quirks, you couldn’t easily guess how prepared someone could be under certain circumstances. “Isn’t that so fucking interesting?”
Lowering himself to the ground Johann reached to touch the freshly shaped footstep that his precious prey left behind. If they’re leaving such a pretty trail behind they’re expecting me to find them, what a tease.
“You know what kind of animals roam these types of terrains?” His voice was loud enough to carry its sound through the extremely quiet, when the hunt begins, the forest goes quiet, no need to scream. “Bears, moose, sometimes even wolves. Had to detangle a lot of ‘em from traps before, not without properly securing they won’t be able to bite, ‘course.”
His heavy boots made the rotten wood and debris scattered around the forest soil yield under their weight, no need to change onto more quiet shoes, his bunny wouldn’t be able to hear him coming, surely their heartbeat was the only thing resounding inside their ears. Reaching into his pocket he took out his watch, starting a countdown. “I’ll give you two minutes to gain distance, cover your tracks, you can try hiding if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend staying still, it makes you easier to spot.”
“Once the two minutes are done I’ll begin searching, I'll make a bird calling each 45 seconds, and once three minutes pass by, I’ll stop making bird callings and hunt in earnest, ‘kay? Just want to make the game easier for you, it isn’t fun if I’m the one with the upper hand all the time even if this is my subject.”
With a deep sigh, he crouched down again, his hands fidgeting inside his pocket until he found a cigarette, the last one actually. Grabbing his lighter he lit up the tip, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke escape from his lips.
His free hand reached to grab the gun he always had with him, it was an old friend of sorts, stuck by his side in all the worst situations, a lot of people meeting their death at the end of this same barrel. Maybe it should have your name, after all, people do name their guns sometimes.
The forest grew more eerily quiet, the sun setting down in the distance while Johann quietly awaited the starting gunshot of the race, he didn’t really need to put the time on his watch, he could already count the time down to the millisecond inside his head. “Forty-eight, forty-nine…” His gloved fingers tapped against his lips, hands tightly clad in leather gloves, perfect for the harsh Austrian winter.
A part of him wished you didn’t even make the effort to run away, maybe finding you curled up against a rock or a tree just waiting for him to find you was more exciting than actually pursuing you, after all, that meant you truly gave up on the idea of leaving him behind—still, another part of his brain screamed for you to run, so he could find you and make sure you won’t try pulling up bullshit like this again.
Slowly he stood up, the watch making a low beeping sound before he began to walk, settling the gun back onto the strap around his thigh. Holding the cigarette in between his lips he began to prepare the clothes you were going to use once he caught you, after all, little you decided to escape both barefoot and barely dressed, the worst thing in this forest beside him was the cold. Holding the spare jacket he always brought with him inside his bag and a blanket he continued to walk nonchalantly, not even sparing a single stare in any direction that wasn’t just dead front and center.
Johann's stare drifted onto the floor, a little disappointed that you didn’t take his recommendation into account, there, clear as day, were your pretty little marks for him to follow like a bloodhound. Johann even took the time to carefully make sure he didn’t accidentally step into any of them, not wanting to overshadow the loving tracks you left behind for him with his heavy boots.
He knew very well he was taking all of this too lightly, this was a high gamble where he could lose everything or gain all, but still the elated sense of happiness and bubbling excitement made him more self-confident, too sure you wouldn’t get away too far, and even if you did, he’d stay in the damn forest all the time necessary for you to realize you need to go back onto his loving arms.
Stopping dead in his tracks he turned around as he heard a small sound coming from behind a fallen stump, dead bark peeling off the tree’s corpse. There you are.
And there you were indeed, curled up in a ball, back pressing against the rough bark as you held your arms around your torso, bracing yourself from the harsh winter cold, from the shiver that ran down your shoulders towards your legs or the sight you so pathetically defenseless made him smile, a blush creeping up onto his features.
“You didn’t even run far enough to let me do any bird calls, are you that tired, baby?” He kneeled down in front of you, but as soon as you jolted up in surprise Johann’s hand shot to grab your wrist with unnerving quickness. His dark eyes bore into you, a small smile gracing his lips, but there was no emotion behind that expression of his. “That’s okay, next time I’ll give you some proper equipment, some shoes wouldn’t hurt.”
His thumb caressed the skin of your wrist, while his other hand threw away the now almost half-smoked cigarette that Johann held in between his lips. Eventually he reached to grab your head in between them, rubbing your cheeks with such tenderness that it could be even soothing in a different situation. “There, you did good. Not good enough to grant you a reward, but you did have me a little scared back there.” His smile widened as he lied through his teeth. You frowned, tired, freezing cold and also breathless, but still with enough energy to try and pry his hand away from your wrist, it was useless, he was latched onto you like a handcuff. “Fuck yo—” Before you could even finish he reached to clasp his free hand onto your mouth, the sudden movement making you stumble backward, head pressing against the tree. “Fuckin’ language.” He whispered between his teeth, staring at you dead in the eyes. “You should be grateful I didn’t put a damn bullet in between those pretty eyes of yours. Runnin’ away from me like that? After all I did for you? I let you away from my sight for just a second and you go jolting away like a fucking rabbit.”
Taking a deep breath he lowered his head, slowly pushing his hand away from your mouth, his face leaning closer to you, the only warm feeling gracing your warm body being his hot breath against your face. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He pushed your lower lip with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss onto your flesh as some sick and twisted kind of apology.
“I won’t be as lenient next time, ‘kay? You know I care about you a lot, meine Liebe, don’t want you getting hurt.” He forced a smile, leaning his forehead against yours, but again his voice was masked by the thumping sound of your heart against your ears. “Let’s get you back to the car, I’ll get you all warmed up and cozy.”
You just let him grab you, his hands effortlessly grabbing you and carrying you bridal style as both of you made your way back toward the car, you stole a few glances at Johann’s face, finding a small smile and that darn blush in his cheeks that showed how much he enjoyed himself, maybe a twisted part of him was truly pleased by all of this, even if it just started as a rebellious act of trying to escape from your part.
“Hear that? It’s a White-tailed eagle. Birds of prey, always hunted them with my father as a child.” Suddenly the forest wasn’t so quiet anymore, the hunt has ended.
#ah yes#is that#“the author's thinly veiled fetishes“ moment#anyways hope u guys don't mind me nerding about hunting...#male yandere#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#chrona... writes stuff?#johann the bastard
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team furries twoooo. And scalies. And whatever birds are.
please share and donate to this family of four, the youngest being only 2 1/2 years old. They need funds to safely cross to Egypt. If you donate something, send me a message with proof and I’ll draw you something nice as a thank you :)
Species and concept art under cut!
Sniper: so for some reason I was under the impression that Crocs were native to new zealand. They are not. Uh. Well. yup. 👍 it fits his personality. snappy n dangerous but real easy to get around if you just zig-zag. Why the long fa
Spy: Grey Fox. I was gonna go with a wolf because of his fursona but fox fits better wahhhh. Also means that scout is half fox! I’ll show that in more detail one day. Probably.
Medic: just like his Doves! The tail coat is actual his real tail. Featherrrrrs. Why are his nasty claws out? I don’t know he’s kinda weird like that.
Demo: TIGER!!!!! He’s always kinda reminded me of Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes :) why did I draw him so cute. Somebody stop me before I draw them all adorable ough.
Engineer: the bulllllerrrrrrrrr. Sorry. He’s a bull, with a nose ring. Epic. Hooves for hands, gunslinger would look like a hoof too, gotta design that later.
Heavy: big badass brown bear. Love him. Instead of bullet he has honey sticks. It costs four hundred thousand dollars to harvest honey… for 12 seconds.
Pyro: fucking dragon. hell yeah. In pyroland they see themselves as a unicorn. Baller.
Scout: Bunny scout truther over here. You can thank @/teamfurtress for that. Please check them out, commissions are open! In my version he’s a hare but that is significantly less fun to say lol. Jackrabbit kinda guy.
Soldier: regular ole dog. ouppy to da max. He’s the most dog of the alol time and I’m tired of pretending he’s not. THE STRAPS ON HIS HELEMT ARE HIS EARS. HIS BIG TEETH AND OPEN MOUTHED SMILE. THE WAY HE MOVES. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!???!??????! That’s a grown man with dick n balls what am I doing
Some designs for the side characters that I couldn’t be arsed to finish. Saxton is kangaroo because of corse he is. Admin is a bat because she never leaves her room, Pauling is mouse because is cute, Zhanna is bear like big brother, Merasmus is praying mantis, and Gray Mann + Olivia Mann are vultures! She’s so fluffy oh my god
Concept time. I fell in love with wrinkly floppy dog sniper. Adorable. Unfortunately I already had a dog so he had to go </3 kangaroo sniper was also axed. rip girl. Lots of diff designs for admin! Curtesy of @stangeranfanficion (thank u for the ideass) eagle soldier because it’s funny. Also zebra Pauling! I really like this one. If I make a horse au she’s going to be a zebra.
#tf2#tf2 fanart#furry#furry art#tf2 medic#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#tf2 soldier#tf2 sniper#tf2 pyro#tf2 demoman#tf2 engineer#tf2 heavy#tf2 whole team#furrification#lol#tf2 saxton hale#tf2 administrator#miss pauling#zhanna tf2#merasmus#gray mann#olivia mann#ruths doodles#Holy crap that’s a lot of tags
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