#and no one knows everything right off the bat

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Psychic (kinda, not really)

Dpxdc Prompt #4

holy shit i am so fucked right now

That's all that was on Duke Thomas's mind as he stood in the middle one of Bruce Wayne's (Batman! because apparently the butts do match) ball rooms, ready to be the entertainment for a gala.

how did my life ever come to this point?

At least he had an answer to that question. What do you get when you throw Danny Fenton and Duke Thomas together? An accurate psychic team that can bullshit their way into making enough money to keep themselves off the streets.

Honestly they hadn't really planned for it, but they made a pretty accurate psychic team. Danny could go invisible and intangible which was very helpful in gathering information about clients. He could talk to ghosts as well and if they weren't you know trying to attack him on sight (which was apparently a thing? that ghosts did to Danny?) they were pretty good sources of info. Finally, he new how to do all the generic psychic things like palm reading, tarot cards, tea leaves, ect.

"My friend Sam taught me!" he said, when they were realizing this plan could actually maybe work. "She never believed in it, i didn't, still don't, believe in it either but it could be useful if we actually decide to do it."

If Danny was the one with all the psychic knowledge where does Duke come in you may ask?

Danny couldn't tell a lie to save his life and couldn't get through a palm reading without bursting into laughter because of how crazy it sounded. Duke had a good poker face, learned quickly to lie on the street, and most importantly could see Danny when he was invisible thanks to his own meta ability.

They bought a tent, a deck of tarot cards, a cheap crystal ball (that was really just plastic), and some psychic-ish robes that were warm enough to double as blankets.

And so Danny and Duke started their farce, telling people scarily accurate visions and advice. They started getting invited to more events, high society ones at that, to serve as entertainment. They paid well (no matter how much the condescending nature of everyone attending irked Duke to no end) and everything was great.

They got an apartment, could actually eat 3 meals a day, and had a steady source of work.

Then Duke told someone who murdered their wife and the Bats were interested in him.

Duke and Danny, of course, didn't know this at the time so when they got invited to a gala at Bruce Wayne's (the richest man in Gotham) manor they accepted without a thought.

And then when Danny was scoping out the place after they arrived he found the Batcave because Bruce Wayne was Batman and invited Duke soley to investigate him.

Man did he wish that he could turn invisible like Danny. Maybe then Batman's piercing stare would go through him instead of straight at him.

[isaadore]

JACKED AND KIND NICO HISCHIER

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing nico hischier x reader

SUMMARY you convince nico to do a tiktok trend, even if it’s a little out of his comfort zone. word count 0.7k

warnings pure fluff, fem!reader, use of y/n

note i hope you guys know what trend i'm referring too 😇

MAIN MASTERLIST NH13 MASTERLIST

IT STARTED WITH a lazy morning and the familiar routine of scrolling through TikTok. One particular trend kept popping up: boyfriends effortlessly lifting their girlfriends while Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” played at the line, “Jacked and kind.” It was sweet and oddly endearing.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that would be with Nico.

It wasn’t like the world didn’t already know about your relationship. Between games, post-practice dates, and subtle Instagram posts, it was all out there. A quick, harmless TikTok would be a fun way to keep things interesting.

You walked into the kitchen, still in your pyjamas. You were immediately hit with the smell of coffee and pancakes. Nico was standing at the counter in his sweats, carefully stirring sugar into his mug. His hair was messy from sleep, and his movements were slow and relaxed.

“Morning, liebe (love),” he greeted, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile.

“Morning,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe. For a moment, you debated whether to bring up your idea. Nico was still half-asleep and probably enjoying the peace of a rare day off. Did you really want to disrupt that?

Then again, Nico always had a hard time saying no to you.

“So,” you started, dragging out the word as you stepped closer.

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you with a knowing look already on his face. “What’s that tone?”

“There’s this TikTok trend,” you explained, trying to sound casual.

He groaned softly, though his smile didn’t waver. “Of course, there is.”

“You’d just have to pick me up. Literally for two seconds,” you added quickly, holding up your hands like you were presenting a deal. “No weird costumes or anything. Just you being, you know, jacked and kind.”

Nico paused, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. “And why do I feel like this will end with me looking like an idiot?”

“Because you’re dramatic,” you said playfully. “Come on, it’ll be cute!”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Pretty much.” You grinned, batting your eyelashes for good measure.

“Fine,” he relented, setting his mug down with a resigned laugh. “But only because I know you’ll keep bugging me until I say yes.”

“Thank you!” you exclaimed, already setting up your phone on the counter.

After breakfast, Nico followed through with the plan, though he grumbled a bit.

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as you positioned him in front of the camera.

“Obviously,” you replied, stepping back to check the angle. “Okay, so when I point, you just pick me up. Nice and smooth, like it’s nothing.”

“I’m a professional athlete, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “I think I can handle lifting my girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Alright, Captain Confidence. Let’s see if you can back that up.”

The music started and the familiar beat of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” filled the kitchen. You pointed right on cue, and before you could blink, Nico’s arms were around you. With a single motion, he lifted you off the ground like it was the easiest thing in the world, holding you securely on his shoulder.

“Jacked and kind,” you whispered, half-laughing as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Was that it?” he asked, his grin smug but soft. “That’s all you needed?”

You nodded, laughing. “Yup! Perfect! Put me down before I ruin it.”

He lowered you carefully, his hands lingering. “That’s it?” he repeated, tilting his head. “You were stressing about that?”

“It’s not about me. It’s about the aesthetic,” you shot back, picking up your phone to check the video.

The result was flawless. Nico looked effortlessly strong, the timing was perfect, and your quiet laugh at the end made it even better.

“See?” you said, holding the phone up for him to see. “Jacked and kind. TikTok is going to lose it.”

He shook his head, his cheeks faintly pink, but he was smiling. “As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

“Always,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Though Nico pretended to roll his eyes, you knew he’d secretly check the comments later to see what fans were saying.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ NH13 MASTERLIST

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Hello my beautiful friend! I am SO ready to dive back into this series!

Right off the bat, the sexual tension with the gambling 👌🏻. I don't know what it is, but I always love in movies or shows or books when they have a poker game/card game between two people who are obviously into each other. I don't think it's a trope, but- the sexy smiles over the cards, the bluffing, the flirting, the teasing, just OH GOODNESS 😮‍💨

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm not going to lie, I would have thought this to myself if I was in her situation. At the same time I feel bad for her because she has all this bottled inside and it's probably even worse that she's in close counters with him, just second guessing everything. BUT I also love that you've given us these wonderful domestic moments between the two of them. ❤️

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says. Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

DANG IT DEAN STOP HIDING FROM YOUR FEELINGS! Man really out there chopping wood trying to forget all his problems and relieve some tension 👀, while the reader is inside trying to educate herself🤣

The way you integrated John's journal into this chapter was so good! It adds on to the lore of the story. I'd never read through the official "John's Journal" merch so it was nice to see those little details and honestly made me feel more connected to the reader, because it was the first time that I was reading the entries too!

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

Girl it's okay we can cry together- DEAN WAS IN THE CRIB WITH SAM. Nothing is okay. I am made of tears. INCONSOLABLE 😭

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—” “Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating. “The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

No, NO, No. Dean NO.

Bad Dean!

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

AND he knows that she is supposed to be HIS. For the love of rice krispy treats! SHE HAS A BROKEN ANKLE DEAN. Don't let her leave!!!

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.  Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate? You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Sweetie he's a grumpy old onion, you gotta peel him back one gorgeous layer at a time. 🤣

This bit is also so heartbreaking, because it's literally her meeting her mate and her believing that he doesn't want her, when it's probably all he does. There's something so raw about that. The idea of finding someone who was literally made for you and believing that they want no part of you. Oh goodness my fragile heart😭

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm not going to lie, I wasn't expecting it to be a Bear. I literally thought this was going to turn into Dean saving her from a Wendigo- because of the allusions to her dad being killed by one, but this was such a (un)pleasant surprise LOL

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester: For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach. Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

I LOVE this insight into his head, just a little piece but enough for the readers to see that Dean does in fact care and that he does feel something for her! Not to mention again... HE PICKS HER UP. I've read Dean in so many fics doing that but each time it just makes me *swoon*.

And oh my word, him finally sitting down with her on the couch and allowing himself to let down some of his walls and let the reader in is just so good!! Not to mention now the reader is going to tell him the truth over how she lost her dad! I'm very excited to read the next chapter, but this one was amazing Alex! 🤗

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.” 

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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[nemesis-writer]

Training Wheels

Masterlist TW: neglect, but mostly fluff

Ridin' down, ridin' down My hand on your seat the whole way round I carry Band-Aids on me now For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground Wheels aren't even touchin' the ground Scared to take them off, but they're so worn down Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt If you promise me you'll take them off first

'Come on Jon, hurry up we're almost there.'

You remember the time when you first saw Jon when he was playing games with Damian. Let's face it, you were downright in love with him, you didn't really knew how to deal with it since you've been deprived of that since birth.

You've always thought of him as a night in shining armor. He'd always bring you gifts in your birthday, sometimes give you books to read when you're bored. But it was satisfying for now.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

There's no doubt in the world that you love him. You'd laugh together, sometimes take you to the movies, and even invite you to his farm for lunch during recess. But you, you loved him, you wanted to stick with him forever and didn't want anyone to ruin the moment.

Some might say you're stupid for relying on a boy who is friends with the very people who've neglected and abandoned you. But no one can stand on the way of love right?

Lettin' go, lettin' go Tellin' you things you already know I explode, I explode Askin' you where you want us to go You've been ridin' two-wheelers all your life It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?

You loved the fact that he is dating you, but you'd never know if he felt the same way. So far in your relationship it's based on wishful thinking. Who's to judge a now-legal adult for being in a relationship with a person she's been head over heels for?

But what you didn't know was that Jon truly love you and cherish your memories together. He even has his own job where he can afford a 10 karat princess-cut sapphire ring. (Also thanks from stealing Conner's money.) He prepared your guys future together as parents, while you were prepared to let him go with the assumption that he doesn't love you.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

You'd be surprised with how much he has prepared for your future together.

Damian, on the other hand, paid no mind to you, and failed to notice Jon's past attempts into dating you. He remains completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is dating the girl that no one would bat an eye for.

10 years later...

Your wedding was completely peaceful since it was held in a small chapel in Metropolis. Only the Kents including Alfred and some trusted friends were invited to the party. And by trusted friends you meant the whole damn Justice League without the bats.

'I Y/N take Jon as my lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

'I Jon take Y/N as my lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

Cheers could be heard even from outside the chapel. But the bats never truly knew why the whole League didn't attend the meeting and instead called in sick, out of planet, or family issues.

It was only until they saw in the news:

'MS, or should I say MRS WAYNE KENT JUST GOT MARRIED AND THE WHOLE WAYNE FAMILY DIDN'T ATTEND!'

A/N: this was actually one of my favorites of Crybaby

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@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire

[soxcietyy]

Deal

18+ Yuta x reader

You had the unfortunate luck of being assigned a seat next to your school bully. You dreaded being near him but there was no objectifying the teacher. After being stuck with you during cleaning duty in the afternoon he offered you a preposition.

You sat quietly in class hopping that you would be able to sit next to Inumaki, Panda,Maki or someone normal. For some odd reason the teacher decided to rearrange seats in the middle of class. They did this every so often which gave you panic attacks. You crossed your fingers under your desk praying that a specific name didn’t come out his mouth.

"Y/n, you’ll be sitting next too Yuta."

Your heart sank once you heard those words come out their mouth. He was the last person you wanted to sit next to. Other people would have loved to be seated next to him. He was adored by so many people you knew. When you first got here you would hear girls gossiping about him all the time. He was this mysterious yet lovable guy. He was known to be smart, athletic, kind, funny and overall popular. When you finally got to meet him it felt like everything you were told was a lie.

You could tell he didn’t like you right of the bat. The smile he wore around his friends would disappear every time you approached him. He would make you bring him stuff, make you do his homework and treated you horribly. He would tease and make fun of you whenever he saw you.

Slowly you made your way to your seat. Maki giving you a look of pity. You sat down silently next to him not daring to look at him. As the teacher continued arranging other students seats you could feel his gaze on you. It felt like his eyes were engraving themselves onto you.

You palms began to sweat as you pretended no to notice him. If he figured out that you noticed him he would start talking to you. The more seconds that past the hotter you felt. Unfortunately you couldn’t take off a layer because you had forgotten to wash your uniform. So you had to wear your button up and skirt from middle school instead. Obviously you had grown quite a bit since then so it fit you tight enough for you to deem it a faja. Not wanting to get dress coded you had to hide it by using a thick wool cardigan.

Eventually it became so hot that you had no choice but to take your school’s cardigan off.

You quickly took it off and placed it on your lap. If you pretend he wasn’t there everything should be fine right? Or would he get angry because of it? Class continued for a bit longer until the teacher made everyone partner up with the person next to them. You could hear Yuta chuckle as he sat up from his seat.

"Y/n we’re partners, do you mind doing the work though? Not feeling it today." Yuta says.

He never was feeling it apparently because he always made someone do his work.

This couldn’t continue on any longer, you had to put your foot down and do something. You couldn’t graduate knowing that you never bothered fixing the situation. Turning around to look at him you firmly tell him no.

He was slumped in his seat with his head thrown back when you said this. He snapped up with a look of shock. At first you thought it was because of your response but then you caught his eyes looking at your chest.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He grabs you by the collar to get a better look at your shirt.

He couldn’t believe you were wearing something tight like this. Was it to impress a boy? To grab people’s attention or were you just a slut? He let out a laugh but when he did he tugged on your shirt a little bit too hard. Two buttons flew off your shirt one hitting the wall behind him and the other one falling on his hand. The both of you fell silent and stared at each other. Quickly you put your cardigan on to cover up but the V neck was so low you could still see everything.

Yutas face had turned pink as he looked at you in horror. He acted fast by taking his jacket off and throwing at you. "Cover up." He tells you annoyed.

You had no other choice but to accept it no matter how much you hate the idea of wearing his clothes. Zipping the jacket up you could feel how big it was on you. Yuta put his head down facing away from you. He was surely mad that he had to help someone like you out.

You let a big sigh out as you sank into your chair. Opening your laptop you began to start on the group work. Fortunately it was something very simple that could be done in no time. As you worked the teacher called you to his desk. He had a conversation about how Yuta needed to also do the work. You explained that he wasn’t feeling well and that you were fine doing it on your own.

It didn’t matter what you said because if he didn’t do it you would also get in trouble. Sitting back down into your new seat you slowly nudge him, "Yuta, you really need to participate in the work. Or at least pretend you’re doing something.

"…"

No response.

You both ended up having cleaning duty after school. You grit your teeth as you sweep the class while he watched you. This was all his fault, if he had done something you would have been here.

The school was empty other than people who stayed behind to clean or had some after school activity’s.

As you looked for a dust pan you could feel how the jacket would pull your body down. It was so big and heavy on you that it felt like a work out to wear it. Then again why were you still wearing it? School was over anyways.

Taking it off you hand it to him. He looked taken aback until you spoke.

"You can have it back. I don’t need to be wearing the clothes of someone like you." You put it in his hands and walk away. He didn’t say anything his eyes stayed on you as if he was an animal haunting his prey.

Serching everywhere you thought about the possibility of the dust pan being inside a cabinet. The faster you finished this the better. So you bent down to look for it.

"Pink panties?" You hear his voice behind you as he flips your skirt up. You quickly turn around and tug your skirt down.

What was wrong with this idiot? Yea he’s pushed, hit, and tripped you before but this was outrageous. Wanting to say something you open your mouth but quickly bite your lip as he looked at you.

Slowly closing the gap between you both by grabbing your face. You try to turn your head away but his grip was so strong you couldn’t move. You had no choice but to look right back at him.

"What is it that your planning? Wearing such a tight shirt and a small skirt. Don’t tell me you think getting a boyfriend will stop me from messing with you." He smiles.

"No, that’s not it at all!" You try to tell him but he too busy admiring the breast that protruded in front of him.

"You’re such a whore, such a disgusting slut showing herself off like this. Arnt you embarrassed walking around like this?" His hand glids under your skirt and grabs you hem of your panties. With one swift motion he drags them down. "Move your legs," he says and you comply not wanting to make the situation worst.

When he held your panties in his hand you look away feeling so ashamed of yourself. In the corner of your eye you could see him wrap it around his wrist as if it were some kind of accessory. He looked at it for a few seconds feeling satisfied. With a stupid grin on his face.

"I’m going to wear this tomorrow and tell everyone that they’re yours."

You look at him horrified. What would people say? You would be the laughingstock of the school. Your eyes began to blur as tears formed. You didn’t want to cry in front of him and show his your weak but you could help it. Tears began to roll down as you dropped your knees feeling so embarrassed. You watched as the tears landed on your gray skirt.

Yuta bent down and picked your face back up to look at him. "Shhh, why are you crying? Don’t tell me you hate it that much." He smiles at you softly. "Let’s make a deal. I’ll stop messing with you if you grant two of my wishes."

Your tears finally came to a stop as you heard him say that. Two things and no more bullying after that? Sounded too good to be true but what if he made you do horrible things? Your bottom lip trembled at the thought of it. Maybe he’ll have some pitty on you and they won’t be so bad.

You agree to his propersition and you could see something flicker in his eyes. He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you across the classroom to the teachers desk. He sat down first on the rolling chair and then proceeded to pat his lap indicating that he wanted you there. Slowly you began to sit down on his lap but he stopped.

"Not like that, lay on my lap on your stomach."

You look at him confused but followed along.

"My first wish Is for you to lay here still." He whispered in your ear.

This was an odd wish but you tried to stay calm. Though hundreds of scenario’s played in your head none of them being good. You couldn’t help but holding your breath as you await his next move. Surely it wasn’t a good one because you felt your skirt being lifted up.

"Wait, what if someone sees?!" You try to get up but he places his right arm on your back to keep you down.

Currently you were facing the wall where the windows are in the classroom. Your behind faced the entrance of the room and the small windows that let you peek inside. If someone walked by they would see everything, literally.

"Maybe if you’re a good girl and stay quiet nobody will have to find out. Though I surely wouldn’t mind if they saw you like this." Yuta said.

You open your mouth to protest but instead of words a moan came out. You gasp hearing yourself and quickly cover your mouth. He had just shoved a finger inside of you. You look back at him knowing that sound you just made would fule whatever he had going inside his head. A bigger smile appeared on his face as he worked on you.

He could help but enjoy your quiver under him. How you squirmed and tried your best to stay quiet. It assumed him so much that he couldn’t help but think of never letting you go. You were such a lewd girl, he never thought of you this way until today.

You could feel as your juices covered you and his hand. How your heat was getting hotter and hotter. How his finger curled hitting the right spot. He would switch from fingering you to teasing your clit. Rubbing it in circles and sometimes side to side.

Then he stuck a second finger inside you could feel as your walls stretched to adjust to his fingers. Your legs shook in pleasure as he curled his digits over and over again. You’ve never felt so good and you were ashamed of yourself. How could you be enjoying something like this? You needed to hate this, you needed to hate Him.

"Stop-mh- pleease, I’m begging ah I’m begging you" You begged him to stop as you let small moans slip from your vocal cords.

"Shh, be a good girl and stay quiet." He said as he went back to rubbing your clit.

Your legs acted on their own and spread apart immediately so he could touch you more. "Such a nasty whore. Come for me, I know you want to."

Those words got to you for some reason. The way he called you a whore yet he was slowly morphing your insides to his liking. He wasn’t gentle with you at all. He shoved his fingers mercilessly into you to see you squirm. He really liked how you were this way, timid, whinny, and obedient.

He had you right under his grasp just like a wolf would have had its rabbit right under him. Toying with the poor thing until he decided to eat it.

You babble to him trying to tell him to stop. You could feel yourself getting there.

"Common girl, let’s show the luckyperson that happens to walk by how you cum. Let’s show them how much of a dirty whore you are for these fingers."

You shake your head not wanting that to happen. You try hard to prevent yourself from climaxing but the attempt was usless. The second he felt you clamping down on his digits he started going faster and harder.

You let out a loud gasp and yell out his name as you became undone. Releasing all of your juices all over his fingers. With a satisfied chuckle he brings his hand to his face and licks his fingers clean. Watching you shake under him, trying to regain your composure.

"For my next wish I think we want you to keep this up until graduation." He pulls your skirt down and forces you to stand up.

"I just cleaned you so I assume you can clean the rest of the classroom no?"

AN: found this in the back rooms

[enbyfvcker]

Growing Attached

Wade x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,7k

Tags: fluff, smut, suggestive/explicit content, established relationship, headcanons, animalistic!logan, scent marking, praise kink, slight degradation kink, switch!poolverine

It is ironic to Logan how quickly he got attached to the guy he tried to kill nearly ten minutes after meeting and who annoys him as a daily rotine. But Wade crept his way into his heart and made a home there, slowly tearing his walls down.

Hell, he tried to sacrifice himself for him. And looking back, he would do it all over again.

He's really grateful for how his life turned out after Wade practically kidnapped him. He was miserable before.

He has a home now, a warm place to sleep. Wade is always cooking for him, and beside how he pretends to hate the merc's jokes, he realizes he's laughing way more often. He made new friends, and it hit him that now he's also part of that same family he saw on that picture Wade showed him on the Honda Odyssey, the family he helped save.

At first, staying with Wade and blind Al was supposed to be a temporary thing. But months passed, and he found out that he didn't wanna be anywhere else. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He spent so much time alone, so many years feeling the weight of losing all that mattered to him and being hated for simply existing, surviving.

He doesn't want to be alone anymore. Even if it comes with the risk of losing everything all over again. He'd fight for it with claws and teeth in the bat of an eye. He wouldn't bear to lose everything again.

Al would joke about how Wade tamed Logan. About how, at first, he was all gruff and grumpy and drowned in self-destructive behaviors, always drinking his ass off whenever he could. But now he's softer.

Wade convinced him to lay back on drinking one night when he crumbled on the merc's arms after getting completely wasted, telling him about all the horrible stuff he went through in his universe. Told him about the nightmares, what he seen, what he's done...

Wade would always ease him and calm him down, bringing him back to the present when Logan had a nightmare.

Wade would get him doing stupid stuff like movie nights, painting nails, going out in the middle of the night to go eat cheap street food. One day, he got Logan to play Just Dance, the merc laughing as he and Laura danced to some pop song.

So maybe he can't really contest it. Wade did, in a way, tamed him.

And he feels like it should bother him more, but it doesn't.

At first, his feelings confused him, but loving Wade was easy.

Give hatred and insults at Logan, and it will be reflected right back at you. But give him affection and care, and it is also reflected.

In his own way.

He'd hear Wade's incessant yapping, already used to the merc talking nonstop. He kinda grew fond of it. He knew that when Wade's sad, he gets quieter than usual, and he always seems to know how to ease the merc.

When they'd fight, it would be so much more playful than the first times. They would smile between strikes and stabs and Wade could see the way Logan let him throw him around a bit.

He would go with Wade whenever he would walk Mary Puppins, accompanying behind the merc like a guard dog. Each time someone would even look weird at Wade, he would practically snarl at the person, scowling angrily. And if he heard someone saying any mean comment, Wade would have to stop him from pouncing at the stranger.

The first time Wade grabbed his hand in public, Logan tore it away on automatic, but the sad puppy look in Wade's eyes made him sigh and grip the merc's hand again, holding it as they walked. Then, the next times, it was always Logan that grabbed his hand first, not letting go until they got home.

Whenever Wade would feel self-conscious, Logan would pepper kisses all over his face, trace the shape of his scars, hold him close... In his eyes it didn't mattered how Wade looked when his heart was already so full of love for him.

He would steal Wade's shirts even though Wade bought clothes especially for him. Logan simply likes his scent.

He let his animalistic traits out more often when he's around Wade, getting more comfortable in his presence over time. Wade's heart almost melts whenever Logan rubs himself on him, practically begging to be pet. The way Wade swore he could hear purrs whenever he stroked the right spot on his hair. Or when Logan follows him around the apartment like a puppy, quietly watching everything Wade does and clinging to him.

The first nights Logan spent on the couch, Wade would wake up to see him all curled up, his eyebrows furrowed. But as time went on, he would often find Logan sleeping completely spread out, his stomach upwards as he snores lowly.

And when they started sleeping together, they would always wake up tangled in the morning in Wade's bed. Sometimes, with Logan under the covers because of the sunlight and with his face buried in Wade's chest.

Wolverines are really territorial. Logan started doing everything in his power to rub off his scent on Wade, to mark him as his. Wade would pretend to not notice, but he found it extremely adorable.

One day, when he was grocery shopping, he saw Vanessa and they talked for a couple minutes, hugged awkwardly as they said goodbye. He didn't feel anything, and it made him smile internally. A while ago, he would've been triggered seeing her like this. But honestly, how can he have eyes for anyone else when he has Wolvie all to himself at home?

When he does get home, however, Logan's nose picks up the different scent. He gets closer to Wade as he's storing the groceries, sniffing the merc's neck as he stands behind him.

"Hey, peanut. Missed you too."

"You smell different..." Logan grunts against Wade's neck, his heart racing with a feeling he can't quite place.

"Oh? How so?"

"You smell like ladies perfume."

"Well, I use ladies perfume sometimes, for your information-"

"I know how you smell." Logan snarls, gripping Wade's waist and licking the skin of his neck, biting after, eliciting a gasp from the merc. "You smell like you and me mixed together. And now I smell someone else." His grip gets tighter. "You smell like that dancer girl."

"Vanessa? Well, yes, we met shortly today-" Wade feels a sharp sting as fangs dig into his skin, the sensation making him shiver.

"Gotta mark you again." Wade chuckles at that. He couldn't help it, it's just too damn cute.

"I don't think everyone has your sense of smell, Wolvie. But who am I to stop you?"

"Don't care. Want you to smell like me..."

And then, in the next hours, Logan's all over Wade. Kissing, biting as they fuck, wishing that the bite marks would actually stay instead of disappearing in less than a minute. Their bodies tangled, Logan holding him close, his nails scratching Wade's back as he smirks with the way the pain makes Wade's cock throb inside him. He doesn't stop until his scent mingles with Wade again, until he smells like him and only him, making sure that every time he cums he does it on the merc's skin. And even after they shower together, he can still smell himself all over Wade, and it fills him with an animalistic possession.

Wade loves that feral side of Logan. So he may or may not have googled and found out that Wolverines love cinnamon and it is like an aphrodisiac for them, and then he bought a cinnamon skin oil to test it.

The first time he wore it, Logan went absolutely wild with the smell all over Wade's body, and Wade practically couldn't tear him away even if he tried. Logan seemed to go blind with lust, tearing Wade's clothes away and bullying his way into the merc's hole, his face glued to Wade's neck, sniffing his skin.

"Smells so fuckin' good..."

And Wade definitely started wearing it more often after that.

Wade noticed that Logan slowly began to be less annoyed with his pet names. At first, he would roll his eyes whenever Wade called him "honey badger", "peanut", "kitty cat", "puppy" and others, but then after time, Wade could swear he could see a light tint on his face whenever he called Logan sweet things.

"Can you grab that for me, peanut?"

"Missed me, puppy?"

"Feels good, kitten? Good boy, so perfect for me..."

Logan felt stupid with the way those words made him feel all tingly inside, his heart pounding violently as if it would burst out of his chest and run to Wade.

It was amusing to Wade how Logan could switch from being really rough and intense in bed to want it slow and soft, to crave Wade's praises and care as the merc fucked into him. Wade always seems to read what Logan needs, always meeting the hungry harshness as well as the gentle passion.

"Such a needy little slut just for me, hm peanut?"

"That's it, baby. You're so good, kitten. Such a good boy for me. You look so pretty, taking me so well~ Love you."

Logan's nightmares would slowly fade, never truly disappear, but lose its constance. Before, he could barely have a full night sleep without drinking until he passed out, and now he sees himself curling up with Wade in deep slumber and long naps.

Laura noticed the thing between them two from the start. She probably noticed before Logan could even understand it at all, but decided not to comment on it until she saw they were together.

She told Logan he seemed happier. So different from when they met on the void, in the best way possible.

And he is happier. He hadn't felt that way in a long time.

[axolotl4days]

Batfam fans i promise I'm gonna post part 2 to the "batman Dead Daughter" story soon (I intended to post it after the first part but I keep getting distracted and haven't finished writing it)(i have adhd and autism and I've never actually posted my story ideas before-)

However, part of why I haven't is i accidentally started thinking of a completely different story-

And it's so much angstier, and I haven't decided if i want to actually write it or if it lives in my head forever

It takes some slight inspiration from the "little misfortune" game, but tbh the most it takes is the name Misfortune

Side note:I have no fucking clue how old any of the characters actually are in canon, so for this it's just going off age order rather than numbers the reader would be in between Tim and Damian age wise but thats about it

Anyways here's the idea lemme know if anyone would be interested in reading it

The basic premise:

Backstory: The reader was adopted by the bat at the age of like 6 or 7 after the bat found reader just kinda... wandering Gotham one night covered in dirt and dried blood, when asked about their parents the reader just stays silent so bats like "Well I guess i have a new kid" because what else do you do? Takes the kid homes, cleans em up, and gifts them a scarf to try to gain their trust (he noticed reader kept covering their neck, he sees a pretty nasty scar but doesn't push reader to talk about it)

And the story would basically be the bat siblings realizing they don't know where reader came from (not even tim knows and he knows like, everything about his siblings cause it's tim)

And they don't ask because they're detectives they can figure it out right? But then they start to notice certain behaviors, subtle things that wouldn't normally raise alarm bells for anyone

But they don't get anywhere and after a few incidents (aka moments where they see reader experience ptsd but don't know what caused it) they decide to ask (I have an idea where they don't ask upfront but try to do the thing where they're all talking about their backstories so it doesn't feel so confrontstional) and reader very casually drops a lore nuke and tries to brush it off like it's nothing because "it happened a long time ago I'm fine" (spoiler alert, they are not fucking fine)(i want them to violently start sobbing while telling the story and they don't even realize it until one of the others points it out) and shenanigans ensue as they learn just how not fine they are :D

Because the story has only been in my head I've got a bunch of alternating scenes and plot line ideas so it's hard ti describe what it exactly is about but it mske sense in my head

This one would have a lot of mention to heavy child abuse, death, and other stuff, but apparently I'm sadistic cause I can't stop thinking about it

Depending how it goes it could be considered platonic yandere batfam but it'd get their gradually, but I haven't decided yet

[stars-n-kites]

really an inexplicable train of thought but i feel like taako is the kind of person who in a modren era au would just decide to go to a shooting range and learn how to shoot a pistol for funsies, but would consider learning to spin the pistol all cool like they do in cowboy movies to be his first and foremost priority. like hes already bought a holster and the moment he is given a gun he immediately starts trying to twirl it. the instructor has to tell him to stop or theyll take the gun away from him. he keeps trying to lead the conversation back to it anyway because he really feels like theyre putting the cart before the horse here if hes learning how to shoot the gun before even knowing how to dramatically reholster it if he were to get in some sort of cowboy duel. hes actually really good at the shooting part but he gets kicked out of the class after his eighth guntwirling attempt in which he accidentally flicks the safety off mid twirl and shoots one of their light fixtures

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[nonokoko13]

Rollo Flamme is autistic. I had suspicions about it but after reading his vignette I heard a voice in my head confirming it. God has told me the truth and I must spread the word

He would also be ok with Batman, if he's not his most favoured hero. Oh and he also probably has PTSD and depression. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[angeltism]

EEEEEEH honestly during the time we were mutuals we interacted like a maximum of . two times. perhaps even just once. which is a bit crazy considering all of this now. i was just scared of trying to keep interacting honestly HSJAHDJSHD but if you dont feel like dating after i reveal myself that is completely absolutely alright! i would appreciate having you as a friend just as much! its whatever you prefer and whatever you feel more comfortable with :3

- 💌 anon

oooh well . still honestly I bet uur kewl <3 and yayaya !! thank uu for being understanding , I very much appreciate it . to be faaair , I do . kinda . have a soft spot for uu , y'know ? so even if it isn't immediately . . . the idea isn't something I'm opposed to ^_^

[asiancyborg]

do u guys kno. just how much i screwed myself over

[deprivedofbraincellsandsleep]

wishing so bad that I was a great writer or artist rn

[tonycries]

Kiss Me More!

Synopsis. There’s always something that makes him lose control - and you love pushing those buttons.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough séx, unprotected, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, slight exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s), Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, dacryphília (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.1k

A/N. Bro my laptop crashed thrice trynna write this um.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Raw?!”

Great, Toji thinks, he’s finally lost it.

Because sooner have the words left your swollen lips, all the blood goes rushing to his achingly hard cock - so swollen and already leaking hot precum all over your trembling thighs. Some dark, primal part of himself being poked so dangerously awake.

“Are ya sure, doll?” he breathes, and the words come out ragged - pained even. Like some part of himself wanted you to save no, was begging you to say no - for his own sanity. Because just the thought of your pretty lil’ cunt wrapped around his cock makes him feel lightheaded. “We don’t-”

“I wan’ to,” you give him a determined little nod. Spreading your legs further and oh Toji lets out a hoarse grunt at the heavenly sight. Hanging on your every word as you continue, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

That was hours ago - oh, how foolish you were. 

You never thought that those would be the words that make your poor boyfriend snap. That it would only take him just barely grazing his angry, weeping tip between your puffy folds. Up and down up and down up and- down went every rational thought. 

Too depraved. Too lost in the feeling of finally having you and your soft pussy and you-

“C-can’t believe you’ve been ngh- fuckin’ holdin’ out on m-me.” He was in heaven, making you cum over and over and-

And you were clawing limply at the drenched sheets, the headrest, Toji’s shoulders - just anything and everything for some semblance of sanity. 

“T-Toji-” you sob, “S’too much. I- ngh- can’t anymore-”

“Fuck! Been hah- holdin’ out on me.” he groans, like a mantra. Brows furrowing as he squeezes his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. And if it was any other time then Toji might’ve almost been embarrassed at the way his sentence cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Choking out, “One more- gimme j-jus’ one more.”

“But-” Big, fat tears roll down your burning cheeks as large fingers dip down to toy your sensitive clit between them - no rhythm or rhyme, just to get you off. “You said the p-previous one would ngh- b-be the last.”

Ah, you were so cute blabbering out little pleas. And the only response you get is a devilish smirk, Toji’s darkened, hooded eyes boring into yours as he hums, “Did I? I don’t remember.”

He did remember. Very well, in fact as he pushed you to your nth orgasm tonight. And it took everything in him to hold off his high as he fucked you through yours, whispering out hollow promises about it being the “last time” and just “one more”. 

“S’okay-” Toji nips playfully at your wobbling lips. Salty with the taste of your overstimulated tears. “One more- you can mmpf- cum f’me once more, right?” 

And Toji’s barely-there sense of rationality in him knows he should slow down. Ease up his bruising grp on your hips. Have at least some shred of concern as he fucks your quivering cunt rougher, like his personal sex toy more than anything. 

Yet, no, right now he couldn’t even think straight. Too focused on how your moans were so sweet. Lips so pretty screaming out his name. Snug cunt too fucking heavenly when you cum all over his cock, squeezing him like your slutty lil’ pussy was trying to milk the fucking soul out of him. So hard and addicted that Toji was hooked. 

You mewl a delirious little, “H-hooked?” Batting your hazy eyes up at the monster above you, who seemed well and fully intent on making you cum until you couldn’t anymore. “Y-you’re hooked?”

Whoops, did he say that out loud? Seems you weren’t the only one that was completely and utterly wrecked here. 

“Shhh,” Toji drops his head once more to kiss away your adorable pout - the one that only makes his balls squeeze so painfully. “Just focus on how ngh- fuckin’ food ya feel, pretty.” Fingers erratic on your throbbing clit, just soaked in your sweet juices. Moving deftly to spell out a messy T-O-J-I. Over and over and- “After all, this hah- pussy now belongs to me now, right?”

And it’s all you can do to give a delirious little nod, words slurring together as you hiss a low, “Y-yours- S’all for- ngh- you-” Hips bucking wildly underneath his strong figure. “Close- m’gonna cum, Toji-”

The only response you get is a guttural groan of what sounded like your name - followed shortly by a string of profanities as Toji speeds up his abuse on your cunt. One hand reaching out to grip onto the headboard, so hard that if you were in any better state of mind the two of you would have registered the sharp snap! 

The other almost-feverish on your poor clit - like it hurt to not have you cumming all over his cock now. Spelling his name over and over and-

“Oh I’ll let ya cum-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy now. Sounding like his sanity was dancing away every time his hips slapped bruisingly against yours. “Gonna make you c-cum so ha- hard you’ll forget everything else-”

You’re letting out strangled little gasps in response, hips torn between running away and fucking down for more more more-

“Fuck- hope you’re on the pill, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Painted white

“Whoops.”

Nanami well and fully thinks that it’s your fault he feels less of a man than some monster right now. He acts like it, too, holding back a sultry little smile as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress. 

Close - too close. 

Close enough that he’s immediately pulling out of your snug cunt. So fucking difficult with the way you’re sucking him up so good - but oh was it worth it watching the way your swollen lips drop into a soft oh! Glassy eyes snapping down to catch the way he fucks his fist once, twice. Before spilling all over your swollen folds, painting you such an obscene white over and over and-

“Now now,” you can only keen in response as your husband hums lowly. Fist sliding languidly up and down his angry, red cock. “Guess we hafta hah- do it all over again, my love.” 

Yeah, definitely worth it with the way he had you all breathless and needy, your slutty lil’ pussy just begging to go over the edge - only to tease you at the very last second. God, it’s been like this for so long now. 

“So mean,” you give Nanami a little pout - one that has his still-painfully hard cock twitching so sensitively in his hand. Big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you continue, “You’re being so ngh- mean, Ken.”

Oh, damn that little nickname - the exact same one you’d scream when you’re close. Damn the way you cock your head just right, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him.

Damn the way he snakes his hand down to the sinful little pool of cum spreading all over your lower stomach. Letting it trickle onto his fingertips - immediately shoving them between your lips to shut up those pretty lil’ moans. 

“Mean?” he manages to chuckle. Tips of his fingers pressing right at the back of your tongue. Slapping his swollen cock on your stomach, “Is this what you ah- wanted? Are ya happy now, my love?” 

The sight of you all teary and gagging around his fingers was almost as addictive as the sight of you covered in his cum. Almost. 

He sweeps his eyes all over where you were splayed out so prettily for him. Your glossy lips, the streaks of cum on your stomach, your chin, everywhere and anywhere - except where you wanted the most. 

It had started with an accident, really, when he’d pulled out a bit too early tonight. And fuck if Nanami didn’t think that sight of you all dripping and covereed with him was like the gates of heaven spread wide open all for him. A new, dangerous addiction. 

Which is why he’s pushing his fingers deeper, whispering out a ragged little, “Shit, you’re so messy.” Purposefully dragging his thumb across your lower lip to smear the mess everywhere. Your lips, your chin, inside. “So filthy.” He can’t even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. Dipping down the valleys of your chest, down, down down, to where his achingly hard tip was just kissing your quivering entrance now, “So perfect.” 

And without warning, Nanami’s splitting you apart on his massive cock once more. Jaw falling slack ever-so-slightly at the way you’re taking him up so readily - inch by fucking inch like it hurt to be apart.

“F-fuck,” you moan, the words broken as he starts moving inside - back to picking up that unforgiving pace from earlier, like he never stopped. “Hngh- s’too good- too full, Kento-”

“Awww, what happened to ‘Ken’?” Nanami cuts you off uncharacteristically. Hips slowing down to lazy, mindless little movements that have you gasping in protests. “Was gonna cum on your pretty face this time hah- s-seems you don’t want it, hm?”  

And ah, let it be known that Nanami Kento would burn down the world for his wife. 

But what fun it was to tease you - to have your mouth dropping in disbelief, eyes widening in your delirious state. Babbling out a broken, “No no no, Ken- hngh- wan’ you to cum inside.” Back arching off the bed, grappling pathetically for more more more- “To paint me white inside- Please?”

Oh, did you know how to push his buttons just right. Because how could Nanami deny you begging so prettily like that?

Because the sentence is barely out of your mouth before neat nails are digging into your hips as Nanami pulls your hips closer, milking his cock on your snug cunt - so hard he knew it would leave marks. His heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, nails dragging down his bulging biceps as you moan his name. 

Whispering, breath hot against your ear, “You’re right.” Voice so strained and dark that you almost don’t recognize it as your husbands. “So, so right.”

Nanami’s index finger coming down to draw an invisible line right where he could feel his cock making a mess of you inside. 

“Ah! Ken, W-what-”

“You’re so right.” he’s breathing against your mouth, like a little prayer. Tasting the sweet candy of your lips and himself and you- “The next spot-” Pressing his finger down right on that spot, hard. Like he wanted to feel himself more than anything. “Will be here.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty when you cry

“S-Sugu, are you okay?” you’re looking over your shoulder to ask. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing - except for Geto’s heavy breathing, and the lewd little squelches from down below, his swollen cock just barely sinking into your heavenly cunt. And you know it doesn’t bode well.

You’d be almost worried if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown and just locked on that single, stray tear rolling down your cheek. Such a dark little glint in his gaze that had you wondering whether you should be concerned for him or yourself. 

Yet you manage to choke out a little, “Suguru?”

Ah that snaps him out of his little reverie, suddenly too-aware of your plushy walls sucking the soul out of his hot, angry head. 

With work, it’s been a while since Geto got to fuck your snug cunt - and you needed to breathe, maybe spread your legs more. Relax, because it was so fucking tight and Geto wasn’t even halfway. The stretch way too sinful. Too much. Your lips wobbling at how massive his cock was, and oh- was that another tear going down your pretty face?

You don’t even get to confirm because several things happen at once - immediately, he’s pushing his aching dick in one, harsh thrust. Head dipping down to pool the tears streaming on his hot tongue, groaning at the taste.

“O-oh.” you manage to grit out, feeling like Geto was pushing into your fucking lungs. “S’too big. Sugu, ah!”

“Shhhh, gorgeous.” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, fingers dancing down your body to roll your ravaged clit between them. “S’alrigh- ngh-” And you didn’t know whether he was reassuring himself more than you. “You got it. Y-you’ll take it- you always do, right?”

And he was right - but you’d forgotten how unforgiving Geto’s cock was. How unforgiving he was as he pries away your fingers gripping onto the headrest - trying pathetically to pull away from the pressure down below. 

Hah, he thinks, intertwining them so mockingly with his own, as if he’d let such a pretty lil’ thing like you escape. 

Romantic - the way this was supposed to be. 

Yet, now, Geto was fucking you like anything but. 

“You’re not trying to- fuck- run away,” he’s purring in your ear, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit once. Twice. As if trying to will the answer out of you, “Right?” Not even waiting for your answer before reeling his hips back, all the way till his fat tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “After we hngh- haven’t done this in so-” Slamming his hips down. Harsh. “-long?”

And shit- he was acting like it, too. So depraved and filthy the way he was drinking up your cute lil’ moans, tasting your tears on his lips while he couldn’t decide between bruising your poor cervix and hitting that one spot. “T-too fuckin’ long, gorgeous.”

The only answer he gets is your sweet, simpering whine of “Sugu- Sugu Sugu- oh my god.” Back bowing off the bed because it’s gotten so much. “C-can feel you so deep inside.”

Really, how could Geto even think about stopping himself from kissing down your arched back? Looping two strong arms around your waist to pull you impossibly deeper down his cock. 

“Ah! Oh my god- Suguru!” you keen as he falls back on his knees with you in tow, your back against his muscled front. Spreading your legs to fuck up so mindlessly into you. Jagged, long thrusts, bouncing you like a toy on his aching cock. Rough. “So much- so- ngh-”

Ah, your pretty little cries are just music to his ears. Fuck, he forgot how pretty you looked when you were all breathless and crying on his cock.

“Such a cute lil’ actress.” he coos, voice going up each time his heavy balls smack your ass. Fingers drawing such tight little circles on your throbbing clit. “Love these hah- pretty tears.”

“S-So mean, Sugu-” you’re choking as his thrusts get purposeful - calculated. Hitting that one magical spot he’ll never forget no matter what. Over and over and over while all you can do is cry out teary moans of his name.

Thigh quivering at the sheer stimulation, “Yeah- yeah, jus’ like that.” And oh Geto wishes he could taste down there, too. But instead settles for doing that later - getting those sweet, overstimulated tears out of you. “My gorgeous girl, cryin’ on my cock. Ngh- gonna cum f’me?” Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead - the complete opposite of his hips. “Gonna c-cry while you’re mm- cumming all over my cock?”

And as if he really really wanted to see it - Geto’s only getting sloppier. 

So embarrassing with the way he was whispering out sweet little degradations in your ear, guiding you closer and closer. 

So embarrassing with the way he eagerly watched all your minute reactions.

So embarrassing with how you cum exactly the way he wanted you to - teary and breathless. A quick scream of Geto’s name before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. 

Cunt clamping down so deliciously on his cock. So dizzying that you barely even register the hot tongue lapping at the fresh wave of tears.

“Ah, as perfect as I hah- imagined.” Geto grits out, sounding every bit absolutely wrecked. “Now I jus’ n-need to know if you’ll cry as much when m’filling you up.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just the tip.”

“Hngh- f-fuck, baby.” he whines into your open mouth, strong hands pulling your trembling hips impossibly closer to his. “J-jus’ a bit deeper- only a bit deeper, I promise.”

Ah, if only you weren’t split apart so deliriously on Choso’s cock you might’ve been able to actually form a coherent sentence to- what? Snap at him? Beg him for more?

You don’t even know at this point, because it’s been like this for so long now, and Choso promised it would be just his weeping tip. He promised it would be quick and he just “wanted to feel his girl’s pretty pussy.” Over and over again as he pushed your legs all the way until they were pressed against your tits, heels pressing into the mattress as he slides his massive cock even deeper-

“Cho!” you yelp, feeling the thump! thump! thump! of those prominent veins down the side rub against all the right spots. “You said-”

“I know I know, m’sorry.” he gasps. Brows scrunching as he nevertheless bullies his cock deeper inside your gummy walls. Choso’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful. Dropping his head to kiss your bruised lips, “M’sorry, jus’ a bit more. Jus’ a bit- hah- a bit deeper-”

And oh, he shouldn’t have done that. 

Shouldn’t have let himself that last bit of freedom, because he sinks only a bit more into your heavenly cunt - so dripping wet and milking the soul out of him - that Choso can’t help but think he wants more. 

“Baby…” Choso purrs hotly against your ear, hips thrusting in slow, shallow little grinds - and you already know too well what he’s about to beg for.

“Cho.” you groan, warningly. “You said j-jus’ the ngh- tip.”

“Awww.” he groans. So fucking pretty with his long hair undone, some strands sticking to his flushed skin. Eyes hazy and miles away as he looks at you through those long, dark lashes. “Jus’ a bit ngh- more? Promise I’ll pull out.” As if to support his case, one hand gently tilts your head up to press chaste pecks at the corner of your lips. The other starting to toy with your ravaged clit, “Please?”

And how could you say no to that? 

Especially not when Choso digs his knees deeper into the sheets, rock-hard cock dragging so agonizingly against your walls as he reels his hips back, back, back-

Splitting you apart all in one, harsh thrust. 

It’s all you can do to whine out a pathetic, “O-oh fuck- fuck! S’too deep.” The stretch too sinful, his cock too massive. Tears springing to your eyes as he immediately starts fucking you in quick, ragged movements - not even easing you into it like he usually would. 

“M’sorry, baby.” Choso sounds so fucking wrecked, voice as rough as his hips now. “M’sorry m’sorry. Promise I won’t cum inside. Jus’ a bit more- some- some more-”

And for all the remaining sanity you had left, you didn’t know how promises of “just the tip” turned into empty wishes that neither of you had the patience - nor the sanity - to fulfill right now. 

“Please.” you arch your hips off the bed - and nothing more has to be said, because Choso reads that lust-drunk little plea in your eyes. “Ch-Cho-”

“A bit more.” he lets out a humorless little laugh. Reaching above to lace his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down, down, down impossibly deeper onto his painfully hard cock in a pathetic little cadence to match his. “Jus’ a bit- more.”

It was driving him insane. 

And for all his apologies, Choso isn’t one bit shy when rocking his hips harder into yours. So bruising with the way he leaves marks on your waist, your tits, probably even your poor cervix. Whispering out mindless little promises of pulling out and nonsense about going “jus’ a bit deeper”.

“F-fuck, wan’ you to cum, baby.” The bed is creaking in protest as Choso picks up the pace so sloppily. Hips stuttering and uneven with how fucking good it felt - but hitting the right spots every time. His hands snaking down to roll your sensitive clit between his fingers again. “Cum f’me. Please?”

And it seems that Choso had a penchant for getting what he wanted. 

Because no sooner do the words leave his rosy lips, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. Blood roaring in your ears, mixing with Choso’s broken little praises as he fucks you through peak after peak of your high. 

Over and over and-

“Sorry-” your eyes snap open at that familiar little phrase falling from his lips. One that you knew didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Sorry sorry sorry-” Thrusting, once. Harsh. Twitching so wildly inside you that just one more squeeze and he’d be- “C-can I ngh- cum inside, baby?” 

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A lil’ show

It only takes that first, broken little moan escaping your swollen lips and you already know you won’t make it out intact - nor will Sukuna’s sanity, apparently. 

Because no sooner has that sinful noise left you, Sukuna’s eyes glaze over, jaw dropping so uncharacteristically into a soft oh! Aching dick twitching wildly inside you, hips stuttering against yours as he breathes out, “What was that?”

He doesn’t have the patience to wait for your response - instead, squeezing his swollen cock deeper, fucking all the air - and the words - out of you. 

Which, unfortunately for you, wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 

“Aww, c’mon.” the words are groaned into the crook of your neck, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to your dripping cunt. “Give me more ngh- of those-” Large hands tightening on your hips, shifting you around on where you were sat so prettily on Sukuna’s lap. “-pretty moans, brat.”

So that’s what he wanted.

And this was supposed to be something slow. Something lazy, and languid to get the king of curses off before that droning meeting today with his underlings - to take the edge off so that he probably won’t end up killing them all off.

Something it was not supposed to be was Sukuna spreading your legs so shamefully, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Trying to find the angle that’s just right to rip those cute lil’ moans out of you.

“C’monnnn.” he gives short, sloppy little thrusts up into your heavenly cunt. “Where is-”

Then suddenly you’re wrapping your arms tighter around Sukuna’s neck, “Ngh! Oh fuck-” Teeth digging into his muscled shoulder, hard - hard enough that it might’ve drawn blood if this wasn’t the king of curses himself. 

“Found it.” And it’s all that’s said before he’s reaching down to spread your puffy folds further, eyes flicking between your wobbling lips and the way your tight pussy was sucking him up so good. Watching the way his massive cock was disappearing in and out in and out in and- “What? Not gonna hah- scream my name anymore?”

“B-because, Kuna-” you gasp, face burning at the way your thighs tremble with the effort to pathetically to meet his unforgiving pace. “They- they’re close.”

Humming in amusement, “Who?”

“Them!” you’re keening - and both of you know you’re talking about those footsteps outside, the thought of Sukuna’s meeting weighing much more on your mind than his. So you’re limply grazing your lips against his, trying to muffle those whimpers falling from your lips. “They’re g-gonna ngh- hear?”

“So?”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - Sukuna’s response or the way he’s increasing his pace relentlessly. Trying to pull those sweet sweet moans from you, no care or concern for the ever-closing footsteps outside. 

“I don’t care.” he groans, back arching off the sticky seat of his throne to fuck up into your sloppy hole deeper. “You’re ngh- above them, y’know.” Bouncing you like such a slut on his cock, “So what if they h-hear?”

And God you don’t know who’s more fucked-out right now - Sukuna, who was speaking mindless little nonsense into your ear, or you. Whiney and a mess, tugging on his soft locks - a warning.

One that the man himself blatantly ignores, instead having one hand reach down to roll your throbbing clit between his fingers. 

“Hngh- fuck!”

The moan escapes you before you can bite down on Sukuna’s neck, right above his racing pulse to muffle it. 

“Heh,” shivers run down your spine as Sukuna’s chest rumbles with a laugh. Pulling your lolling head away to crash his lips against yours. Panting into your open mouth, “Sneaky. But they’re only getting closer and-” Rocking his hips harder. Bruising. “-m’only getting more impatient.”

And then he’s fucking up into you with reckless abandon. Smirk spreading at that little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hits that one spot. 

You’re sure that if whatever unfortunate soul was outside couldn’t hear your delirious moans then they could definitely hear the lewd slap of skin on skin. Fast, so unforgivingly loud. His fingers just a blur on your clit. Just taunting those little moans out of you.

You’re gasping at the sheer stimulation, “Y-you’re so-”

“So what?” Sukuna spits into your mouth, “Don’t start ngh- sentences ya can’t finish, brat. Though-” His sharp eyes flicker towards the door, much more aware than whatever hazy mess was left of your senses. “I don’ think you’ll be able f-finish any of them soon enough.”

Barely even giving you the chance to register his words, you’re tilting your head in confusion up at him and-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Oh, shit. 

“Come in.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Blue blue blue!

It’s times like this - your blue lingerie almost in tatters, Gojo pushing you into such a tight mating press, filling up your poor pussy over and over - that you wonder when bones will start breaking.

Well, not that your boyfriend would mind either - he wouldn’t mind having to use a bit of reverse cursed technique on what was supposed to be a lazy little cockwarming session. Instead, too focused on how your cunt was sucking him up so good. His cum inside you so warm, the stretch so sinful, your lingerie too blue-

“Heh, what? C-can’t ngh- speak, sweetheart?” Gojo lets out a humorless little laugh. Fingers deftly hooking under your bra strap to give a sharp little snap! “You’re the one that a-asked for this, after ngh- all.”

“B-But, Toru-” you gasp, and it only has Gojo ramming his cock into you deeper. Awe-struck at how you were already so bloated with his cum, but still taking him so well. “Wasn’t on p-purpose-”

“This wasn’t on purpose?” And you know what he’s talking about - that barely-there fabric - the exact shade of his eyes. Only one glance at it had Gojo feeling like something snapped - possibly his restraint, maybe his sanity. Definitely you by the end of this. “This?” 

And you can’t even act coy - you don’t get the chance to. 

Because Gojo’s immediately got his hands everywhere. On your swollen breasts, your hips, the hem of your panties that he just barely had the patience to slide aside before stuffing you full. 

“Y-yes?” you ask, deliciously. Cunt clenching so sinfully around his throbbing cock in- fear? Anticipation? As he looked down so starved at you. 

“F-fuck. Ya shouldn’t have done this.” Gojo’s dragging his lips down your neck, soft. The exact opposite of how bruising his hips were of yours. “Oh, ya shouldn’t have done this-” Lewd curiosity getting the best of him as he dips his hand lower, pressing down just slightly on your lower stomach. “Because now,” Those blue eyes widening at the way his cum gushes down your legs, down his legs. “-m’not gonna let you go until I fuckin’ ruin these.”

And if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve almost laughed - because Gojo was acting like the soaked, flimsy fabric hanging around your body wasn’t already far, far past any salvation. 

No, he was fucking you like he was going to ruin them all over again. Tightening your legs thrown over his shoulders, folding you in half like some ragdoll as he bends down, down, down-

RIP!

You’re gasping at the sharp tear of fabric, one that you barely hear over the fucking obscene squelches from below. “T-Toru-” you squeal, ankles locking in warning. “These ngh- w-were expensive.”

“So?” And for all the world, Gojo has the audacity to sound so genuinely confused. Whispering a soft oh! as he angles his head just right to catch that sinful little tear in your panties. “Whoopsies.”

But, really, what your unregretful boyfriend was actually focusing on was how fucking illegal it should be for you to look this heavenly - legs shaky and limp, his seed forming a lewd little pool. Marked like you were fucking thrown to wolves, but, no, it was actually Gojo Satoru and he couldn’t fucking get enough-

“Five.”

The word comes out abruptly, strangled like Gojo himself was as bewildered as you as he suddenly blurts it out. 

And at your - fucking adorable - look of confusion, he’s kissing away the pout at your lips, murmuring hoarsely, “M’gonna buy you five more of these.”

That’s all that’s said before he’s only rocking his hips harder, feeling more of a fucking monster than he did when he was on the battle field. Wondering whether he’d have to buy a new fucking bed too with the way it was creaking under the pure power. 

And, well, it made some tiny, sadistic little part of Gojo delight to see the effect it had on you. Sweet moans of his name leaving your lips each time he draws rapid circles on your pretty clit. Hips fucking back down to meet his, so sloppy and needy - exactly the way he wanted you. 

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re bucking wildly underneath him, “M’close- so fucking close.”

He knew - of course he did. If the way your gummy walls were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him was anything to go by. Clit pulsing in a maddening little thump! thump! thump! that set Gojo’s animalistic rhythm. 

“Cum f’me.” he pants against your open mouth. Fingers hurrying on your clit because he wanted - needed - this so badly. “Cum f’me cum f’me, wan’ feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart.” Needed to see if your tight pussy could take one more - to see if she’d overflow onto your poor panties again. “Cum f’me.”

“Ngh- fuck- Toru!”

And then you are - you feel it before you realize it. 

Just that white-hot electricity flowing through your veins, and your nails digging into Gojo’s milky skin. Leaving such angry red marks as you chase your high over and over and-

And Gojo wasn’t any better. Just barely having the sense to pull out as his balls squeezed so painfully and he’s painting your quivering pussy white. Thick rope after rope that the smug bastard purposefully smears all over your panties. 

So fucking filthy.

“Ten.” he’s groaning, and you already know what he means. “M’gonna have to buy you ten more after this.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[pepperyduck]

a/n: inspired by this adorable smau by @k-aay !!! it was so cute & made me think about toji :3 he would absolutely bet on u winning.

“you sure she’s gonna win, ‘toj?”

toji’s eyes cut to his best friend next to him at the table. you had forced toji to come as your date to your friend’s wedding—and to make the best out of the night and the uncomfortable button-up you forced him in, toji bet on whether or not you’d win the bouquet toss. all the boyfriends and husbands pooled their cash, some more than others, into a total prize of almost one grand.

toji didn’t know that you winning meant he was supposed to marry you next. but he figured that money could be used for something of the sort.

“i don’t know if she’d wanna marry you, y’know?” shiu chuckled, doing everything in his power to piss toji off. already married, shiu had nothing to worry about if his wife didn’t win, just a few dollars to lose.

“shut the hell up, she’s gonna win,” toji confidently replied, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. he watched everyone in the room, but especially you, and all the other girls beginning to crowd on the dance floor of the reception area. his natural scowl softened only slightly when you turned around to wink at him, mouthing some words he didn’t catch.

you centered yourself towards the back middle of the crowd, knowing your friend’s strength would probably toss the flowers way back into the crowd. anticipation built as the bride made her way to the front of the crowd, turning her back and counting down.

then, toss!

you watched the bouquet of flowers fly through the air, pushing everyone out of your way—which was unnecessary—to ensure it landed right in your hands. you gripped the stems with all your might and held it up in the air, showing off to not only the other girls, but toji, too.

toji’s devilish smile shone at the realization you had won it, only getting a few seconds to listen to the groans of the other guys before you ran over to him and plopped in his lap. forcing him to hold you bridal style, you shoved the bouquet in his face.

“guess i’m next, huh?” you giggled, batting your sweet eyes at your boyfriend (and hopefully soon to be fiancé).

toji kissed your temple, “i guess you are, doll.”