#begging for a single thought to enter my brain

[redr0sewrites]

Can I request hcs about the batboys being a top/switch/bottom please? 💕

🥀A/n: YESSSSS!!! btw i will be yapping ab the differences between sub/bottom and dom/top 💀

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

🥀Cw: smut, dom/sub dynamics, implied switch!reader, switch!character

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson:

i feel like Dick is a pleasure dom, he cares a lot about making you feel good and that often leads to him bottoming while still being dominant. he likes when you ride him and take what you need, but he simultaneously wants to be in control

out of the three, Dick is probably the most naturally dominant and is the one to prefer domming the most- i think he's a bit of a control freak like that, he won't outwardly show it but submitting is just something that doesn't come naturally to him

however, i do think he gets worked up a lot and needs to get his mind off of things, so that would be an opportunity for him to enter a more submissive role. that would take a bit of time, but once he trusts you, Dick will definitely be down to sub.

prefers to be a subtop, he likes rutting into you desperately and having you coo and tease him for taking you so desperately

as i've previously stated, when he's domming, Dick is a pleasure dom. your pleasure comes before his, and he's very adamant about making you feel good. while he's down to try anything that you want, he wouldn't be into physically hurting you or super hardcore bdsm, but i do think he can be a bit mean at times. he's a HUGE tease with insane stamina and will edge you for literal hours until your begging, then overstimulate you until you cry

however, when it comes to subbing? he's either a whiny brat or a genuine sweetheart.

when he's bratty, Dick will tease you and mock you for not fucking him hard enough, he wants you to be mean to him and fuck him absolutely stupid until theres not a single thought left in his brain

he's also into kinkier things, he wants you to treat him like the mindless slut he knows he can be. its kind of a corruption kink, in the sense that everyone always views him as the perfect golden child. you're the only one who gets to see how needy and horny he actually is, and he genuinely views subbing as an opportunity for him to be as kinky and depraved as he would like without judgement. it's actually kind of sweet that he feels safe enough around you to show you that side of him

speaking of sweet, Dick is not always a brat when subbing. sometimes, everything is a bit too much, and instead of wanting to be fucked out of his mind, he just wants to be taken care of. these days, he's more clingy during sex, needing your praise and attention at all times. Dick is a lot more susceptible to slipping into subspace during these times, in which he'll cry and cling to you, desperate for just one more climax.

a lot of the time his brattiness will slowly melt into his softer, needier side, and theres an important distinction between the two. when he's acting out and being bratty, Dick craves your attention, and enjoys being degraded and mocked. however, when he's more emotionally vulnerable and soft, he can't take any degradation without crying.

after subbing, Dick is a lot clingier during aftercare as well, especially if you were being mean to him. please reassure him you didn't mean anything that you said when degrading him, he's still in a sensitive state of mind and needs that reassurance

overall, i think the sexual roles Dick falls into most are pleasure dom and sort of a pillow princess sub (yes ik thats a wlw term but idk how else to describe it im sorry 😭) and he's overall very versatile during sex

Jason Todd:

bottom 🫵🫵🫵

in all seriousness though, Jason is a very versatile switch in my opinion. he's a lot more inclined to subbing than the others, and is actually more comfortable bottoming than topping. he's a strong guy, he's fucking huge, and he's constantly afraid of accidentally hurting you. when he's bottoming, its eases some of his worries about accidentally crushing or hurting you

Jason is either a strict dom, a power bottom/dom bottom, or a genuine sub in my opinion.

some days he's a strict dom, and s but of a brat tamer. i also see him being a bit of a sadist, but only if you were 1000% into it and if you had established safewords. he's whispering filthy words in your ear and talking to you like your trash, but treating you so sweetly that your brain goes fuzzy. its just so confusing when he's fucking you so well, and every thought is engulfed by the rising pleasure in your abdomen.

Jason is any type of dom that you need, if you're tired and needy and want his attention, then he'll gladly take care of you and be all sweet and gentle. however, if you're acting out and being bratty on purpose to get a rise out of him, then he'll treat you as such.

he's a bit meaner like this, and while he's still prioritizing your pleasure, he's definitely the one in total control. however he's very insistent on using safe words and making sure your comfortable, he would never everrr want to hurt you

i think Jason would enjoy battling for dominance, especially if your a switch as well. theres something very carnal and attractive about you both struggling to stay in control, and seeing which one of you will end up on top

i also see Jason as a power bottom though, in all physical senses he's subbing but you both know he has control. this also makes him feel a bit safer about hurting you, as your the one taking what you need and controlling your position, however he still is the one calling the shots. he's sweeter like this, praising you and cooing sweet nothings as you ride him.

i do also believe he can be a sub tho. he prefers simultaneously subbing and bottoming, because while it is more vulnerable, it also gives him the opportunity to relax. when he's a sub and topping, Jason is often too fucked out to pay attention to how tight he's holding you and whether or not he's hurting you. being on the bottom assures him that he won't have to worry, and that he can just let his mind go blissfully blank. Jason is very comfortable subbing with someone he trusts, and he can be a bit of a masochist at times.

Jason is a very needy sub, he wants to be taken care of and fucked out of his mind. he's a lot more vocal when subbing, but still prioritizes your pleasure and comfort over his own.

overall, once he feels safe with you, Jason is comfortable in many different sexual positions and will honestly usually just let you take the lead and decide how you want the night to go

Bruce Wayne:

again, another switch. i feel like Bruce is the most mellow out of the three, especially as he's older, and isn't as up to date with sexual roles and things like that. he's familiar witth some of the basics, but in all honesty he's down to try whatever you would like

whether or not he doms or subs truly depends on his mood, and he has no preference about topping or bottoming

when he's pent up or irritated, Bruce prefers to dom, taking the lead and making love to you. i think he's a brat tamer more than anything else, if you act out he'll treat you as rough as you like but if you want him to, he can be soft as well.

Bruce is a very attentive dom, taking note of everything you like and dislike while observing your reactions. he only really doms when he feels like it, so he's a little bit miffed if you try to take control. Bruce is the biggest control freak out of the three of them, and wants everything to be perfect when it comes to you both sleeping together. this often leads to him overthinking and getting into his own head a little, however that can easily be remedied

when he subs, Bruce is a little shy. it may seem out of character, but admitting to weakness is not something that comes naturally to him and so he tends to clam up and wait for you to take the lead. that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying himself, he just needs some time to adjust

it took Bruce SO long to realize he was a switch like he spent most of his life internalizing his desires because people always assumed he was a top/dom. once he's dating you, he becomes increasingly interested in subbing, but you'd probably have to be the first to initiate that kind of thing

because he's never had the opportunity to sub for most of his life, Bruce starts to develop a preference for it. that doesn't mean he doesn't dom anymore though, and he's definitely still very much a switch.

with the right partner i can definitelyyyyyy see him being bratty, but most of the time he's pretty tame. Bruce is often very tired when he's subbing, and takes it as an opportunity for him to relax and let you take the reins. i think he's the type to slip into subspace VERY easily and become very talkative because of that. he's not vocal at all leading up to that, but once he slips into his own little headspace he's suddenly moaning like a pornstar and getting all clingy and needy!

all in all, i see Bruce as a switch leaning sub who is more than willing to accommodate any of your sexual preferences

this got, like, weirdly deep and analytical for what was supposed to be smutty hcs 😭😭😭 anyways!!! hope u enjoyed!!! i really cannot tell if i like this or not so plspslplssss lmk what yall think ♥️

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Puppy Boy Wants to be Your Good Boy

[Yandere! Puppy Boy! Boyfriend x GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You and Evan have been dating for about a year now. You met in freshman year of college, and seemed to hit it off really well. It kind of amazed you at first that you'd managed to snag a total hunk like Evan.

Evan was the epitome of jock bro: Always working out at the gym, goofing off with his fellow jock friends, and watching tons of sports on TV. Meanwhile, you were a skinny nerd who was at the college on an academic scholarship since you practically lived in the library.

Still, Evan proved to be a great boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, loving-- a total catch. Plus, he was muscular AF!

Then one day, you saw an ad online that sparked your interest, and you couldn't resist purchasing the advertised dog collar that was leather with little spikes adorning it. Once it arrived in the mail, you approached Evan in your shared apartment.

He was on the couch in just his boxers, playing video games. He eyed you, seeing the smirk on your face. "What's up, Babe?" he grunted.

You blushed a little bit. "I just wanted to try something tonight... if you're cool with it?" you asked. Your sex life with Evan was not lacking whatsoever, but it was still healthy to spice things up every now and then.

You pulled the dog collar out from behind your back, holding it up.

At first, Evan laughed. "You want me to wear a dog collar?" he snorted.

"If you don't like it, we can take it off," you shrug, walking up to fasten it around his thick, muscular neck.

The way the leather collar with the spikes fit around Evan's neck made him look really tough, but he felt ridiculous at first. His face was bright red.

You thought he looked kind of cute. "Aww," you cooed, "who's a good boy?" You playfully ruffled his hair.

Good boy...

Something clicked in Evan's brain as soon as you uttered that phrase, and he felt his entire wiring being redone, as if every single instinct he possessed was being reshaped.

Evan's face broke out into a smile alight with zeal, and he dropped onto all fours in front of your feet. "Me!" he happily gushed. "I'm a good boy!"

Holy crap!

You were shocked at how quickly Evan's mind had changed. You weren't sure he'd be into it at all, but looking down at him now, he seemed to be having the time of his life. His muscular pecs heaved with excitement as he sat on all fours in front of you, eagerly awaiting a command. His boxers were already tented out too, damn!

"You're my good boy!" you chuckled as you leaned down and gave your boyfriend some head pats.

"Woof! Woof!" Evan excitedly barked.

That night, he showed you that he was a pro at doggy style, even howling when he came inside of you. The collar was definitely $14 well spent, in your opinion.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Much to your surprise, Evan loved being a good puppy boy for you. Well... "loved" is probably an understatement.

Evan refused to take the dog collar off, even wearing it out whenever the two of you left the apartment for date nights. At first you thought at it was just him exploring his sexual side some more... but as time went on...

Every time you entered the apartment from work or classes, Evan would excitedly bound over to you on all fours, barking happily and begging for head pats and belly rubs. With his massive bulk, he easily pinned you down, refusing to let you move until he got his pets.

Evan would pin you down on the bed, leaning down to kiss you-- but now his versions of kissing were like puppy licks. He'd lap his tongue all over your face, barking with glee despite your annoyed expression.

You'd be sitting on the couch, trying to watch TV when Evan would crawl over to you (he's been constantly walking around on all fours), wearing nothing but his spiked dog collar. He'd mount your leg and start humping it, whimpering as he rutted his hard cock against you like a dog would against its toy. (You had to apologize to your friend, who was visiting, for the awkward sight.)

You'd be trying to fall asleep after a long shift at work feeling so utterly exhausted when Evan would whimper at the foot of the bed. "Whaaaat?" you'd groan.

"Am I a good boy?" he'd whimper, his voice cracking like an injured puppy's.

"...damn it, yes, Evan. You're a good boy," you'd mutter, getting fed up with this quickly.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Your friends were starting to pick up on your change of mood, seeing that you were more irritable throughout the day, and not wanting to leave work immediately.

Sensing this, they invited you to the bar after work, to which you happily agreed.

You loved Evan, of course, but you were totally over his new puppy persona. And despite how many times you tried to tell him, all he'd do was tune you out, and beg for pets.

You really needed a break.

"Y/N?" your coworker, Joshua asked, noting how you'd practically downed your cocktail in one gulp. "What's up? What's bothering you?"

You didn't want to be one of those people who go to others whenever you had relationship problems, but you felt lost. "It's just Evan..." you muttered.

Joshua, who was actually a genuine friend who just so happened to be a guy, put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure things will get better," he smiled at you.

A large part of you felt guilty since you were the one who'd purchased the damn dog collar in the first place, but you couldn't stand the thought of Puppy Evan and having to listen to his barking or him chewing on his squeaker toys for one more night.

Before you could say anything else, a low growl made you jerk back.

Evan stomped into the bar, still wearing the studded collar, his eyes narrowed at Joshua as he bared his teeth at him.

"Grrr..." Evan bellowed out a deep growl, all of his large muscles tensed up, making him look big and ferocious.

Joshua immediately retracted his hand from your shoulder, backing away quickly.

"Evan? What are you...?" you try to ask as your puppy boyfriend wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you roughly into him.

"Mine!" he barked at Joshua, tightening his grip on you.

You were stunned.

He stopped growling when he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered. "You didn't come home," he whined, nuzzling you. "I had to come find you."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, and instead threw you over his broad shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his head up with pride, as a dog does whenever they find a cool stick at the park, and carried you all the way home.

You were mortified, wondering how you were going to show your face at work after that. All you could do was seethe with anger as your puppy boyfriend took you home.

Once you were inside, Evan got down on all fours and whined at you. "Wasn't I being a good boy?" he asked. "Why didn't you come home? I missed you all day!"

"Evan, stand up--"

Evan whimpered like a puppy, nuzzling his head against your hand as he asked for head pats.

That was the final straw for you (a small one, but it was like death by a thousand paper cuts).

"I'm done," you finally huff, walking down the hall so that you could pack up some clothes and leave.

"D-done?" Evan yelped, quickly crawling behind you. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?"

I grabbed your suitcase out of the closet, trying not to look at your puppy boyfriend as he begged in the doorway, perched on his legs with his arms out in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading.

Annoyed, you turned to sneer at him. "No!" you spat. "You've been a bad boy!"

"I'm a bad boy...?" Evan yelped.

You kept your back to him as you packed up your suitcase. Just as you were almost done, you heard that eerie growl again.

"Grrr..."

You quickly turned around and paled when you saw Evan on all fours, standing in front of the door. He was baring his teeth at you and growling deeply, his chest muscles puffed up and making him look all the more menacing. The pissed off glare on his face was akin to a feral dog, and he snarled in your direction.

"E-Evan, please g-get out of the way," you trembled, taking a small step towards the bedroom door so that you could leave.

Evan barked loudly, stomping his hand/paw onto the floor forcefully as he steeled his stance. He continued to snarl at you, lunging forward to scare you.

It worked and you stumbled back, falling onto your ass. You tried to back away from him, but Evan quickly crawled over to you.

He pinned both of your arms down onto the floor above your head, unleashing a loud snarl and he pushed his angry face up close to yours.

"Am I a good boy?" he snarled, baring his sharp teeth at you. "Or am I still a bad boy?"

Your heart raced in your chest. Evan is much stronger than you, and you knew you couldn't fight him off. Plus, the way he bared his teeth at you and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat was much more dog than man, making you shudder.

"Y-yes!" you stuttered. "You're a good boy, Evan!"

Instantly, Evan stopped growling and his broke out into a joyous smile. "I'm a good boy?" he asked, his muscles tensing with with excitement. He still kept you pinned down.

Hell no!

But you didn't want him to maul you or bite out your neck with his teeth. So instead, you slowly nodded.

"You're the bestest boy," you cringed.

Evan's smile grew wider. "'The Bestest'?" he repeated. "I guess if that were true... then you'd never, ever leave. Right?" He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

His chest rumbled as a growl began to form, warning you to answer correctly.

You force a smile onto your face, but it's pained.

"O-of course not," you stammer, your heart falling as you sealed your fate. "You're... my, *gulp, good boy."

Evan smiled widely as leant down to lap at your face as he gave you puppy kisses. "I'm a good boy," he playfully growled as he began to rut his hardening cock against you.

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, penetrative sex, mentions of oral sex, deception, dubcon, slight perversion

my au where i create timelines and this makes sense ok

geto suguru was always gentle with you in every sense of the word. he never raised his voice at you, always holding a soft tone even in argument. he never snapped at you, never chose a reason to fight, and never found a reason to be upset with you.

suguru was gentle in bed too. when your lips were wrapped around his cock, he never pushed you enough to choke you. instead, he’d softly hold the head of hair you had, never guiding, but holding it there in assurance. when you rode him, he’d help you when your thighs began to burn and you got tired, hands lifting you up and down his length until you found your own sweet pleasure. and when he was overtop of you? he was pressing gentle kisses to your chest despite the way he’d fuck you to the point in which you wouldn’t have a single thought to worry about

suguru was a really good boyfriend.

when he had people to meet that took him into the late hours of the night, he’d be quiet when walking into your bedroom, a small grin leaving his lips as he sees the lights turned off. the only light in the room was coming from the screen of your phone that you were laid in bed, scrolling through.

he changed into pajamas, something he usually wouldn’t do, but he had a long day. finding comfort in a soft pair of pants that you’d bought for him, deciding on a plain black t-shirt to accompany it.

and before you knew it, he was sliding into bed, big arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him while he kisses the back of your neck.

"missed you," suguru says, hand hesitating a moment before creeping under your shirt to rub your tummy, trying to get a touch of every inch of skin he was able to on your abdomen.

and you felt it from the moment his body made contact with yours, he was hard and you let out a laugh. "i can tell," you speak, and suguru let’s out a deep laugh, continuing to kiss the outline of your neck until he’s pressing kisses across your shoulder.

the man knew your body like the back of his hand, knowing where to kiss, where to touch, and how to get you a begging mess in a matter of seconds. but he didn’t want that now, he only wanted to lull you into sleep, fuck you till your brain is only begging for sleep and your eyes, to close.

the soft moans that creep their way between your lips in the quiet hours of night are music to his ears. giving him a green light that he was doing things right, that his hand was allowed to find the waist band of your pajama shorts and that he was allowed to pull them down your thighs.

"gonna make you sleep good, how does that sound, pretty thing?" he says, sliding down his own pants and then moving to find your entrance. your soft moan of approval against your pillow case makes suguru smile. you really were pretty.

his hand moved to find your wetness, running a finger from your clit and down to your entrance, moving back to rub circles into the bud that has your legs trembling. suguru appreciated how sensitive you were for him. though, he couldn’t tell if you were sensitive, or he just knew how to reach all the right spots.

he was still learning.

the rough, calloused pad of his finger tip continues rubbing soft and slow circles, aided by the wetness he collected from your heat. and once he hears you moaning out his name, he retracts his hand to take hold of his cock.

he gives a few teasing rubs of his tip against your slit, running it back and forth while it grabs some of your slickness. then in one fluid motion, he’s pushing himself into your hole. slowly, painfully you can feel his head push you open, slow enough that you can feel every inch of his entering your gushy walls that accept him with some effort.

god, suguru loved the sound of your voice. the voice that grew an octave higher, a tone louder as he pushed further and further inside of your tight entrance. it was something that he’d make sure to never forget, bottoming out finally, and sitting there for a second.

his palm holds the skin of your hip that’s exposed from clothing, but still under thick blankets. he allows you to warm his cock, to get a good feeling of his size and length as if it was the first time you’d felt the man in his entirety.

but, whether he was doing it for your pleasure or his, he couldn’t exactly figure out.

"how does that feel, hm? could just sleep like this, baby. let you fall asleep all pretty on my cock, huh? how does that sound," he whispers, lips moving against your earlobe before biting it softly. "squeezing me so good, could fall asleep and dream of that pretty pussy," he says, though it sounds more like a growl from the depth of his voice.

half awake as is, your hand drops your phone against your sheets as you whimper softly at the feeling of your lover bottoming out inside of you. reaching that sweet depth that suguru doesn't have to try to touch, the weight of it as light as a feather as he touches it, the tightness in your stomach coiling as he presses deeply within you.

"need more," you moan out, moving your hips against suguru's backside in an attempt to grind against the man. while the thought of cockwarming the man to sleep didn't seem awful, your tired body was begging for release.

the release that suguru wanted as well as he began lazily fucking himself in your pussy, pulling out and pushing back in without quickness. he wasn't in a hurry, loving the way your heat sucked against his walls.

and even in his slow and pacing movements, the way your pussy pulled his length inwards made wet sounds underneath covers, and the man behind you can only laugh against the soft skin of your neck. "you look so pretty," he kisses your neck, though he hasn't caught an actual glimpse of your face once. only tracing the silhouette of it that the moon was helping illuminate.

and when you begin to turn to face the man, his hand is quick to move from your hip to your jaw, making you face the wall that you had been. "finish first, honey. then you can kiss me all you want," he teases, holding your jaw until your resistance falters with a nod. "close," you whisper as he continues fucking your cunt.

suguru had the ability of finishing as soon as he entered you, the feeling sweet enough for him to fill you with his seed. but he wanted to finish with you.

the hand that holds your jaw moves downwards, sliding under your shirt to squeeze at your breasts, pinching your nipple which elicits groans from you and the clenching of you walls against him. suguru smirks.

"that's my girl," he says. and you appreciate the way he's being more verbal than other times you'd had sex. usually keeping his voice at a minimum to hear you. but, you weren't complaining against the words he breathed into your skin.

his hand moves to your other nipple that hadn't received attention, pinching it before flicking it, and that's when you're pulling all of suguru's seed with your pussy, a mixture of cum filling your pussy. your eyes close, grinding against his length to ride out your high, your hand moving behind you to find suguru's thigh, holding it as your finished your high, coming down and grounding yourself with help of skin that you'd grown accustomed to.

the skin that wasn’t soft, but wasn’t rough. skin that you’d love feeling in intimacy and in public, holding hands and arms.

both of you took breaths, coming down from your high with eyes closed as tired and calmness settled over your bodies.

you’d begun to turn around, chest rising as falling in attempt to catch your breath. grin still spreading across your lips as you turn to face your lover. he was good at what he did, making love to you the sweetest way he knew how to, putting your eyes at rest as they fell half lidded, eager to be filled with sleep instead of him.

it’s only when you’re fully turned, facing suguru that your eyes widen. the moonlight that fell into your room shining on the face you had grown to love, the face you’d pressed kisses to hundreds of times. the face that you fell in love with, the one that was destined to you for life.

the face that had a new scar resting on the forehead of the man you’d called yours. a scar stretching the horizontal expanse of his forehead, a scar that told you one thing and one thing alone.

suguru hadn’t made love to you.

but, kenjaku couldn’t help himself when he had read suguru’s soul. couldn’t help but flash through memories with the pretty lady that had caught both his and suguru’s eyes, apparently. couldn’t help but examine the body you held underneath those pajamas you currently wore.

he couldn’t help himself but to envision you on top of him, the countless times you had fucked yourself against your lover. couldn’t help but to watch all the perverse images that didn’t belong to him.

kenjaku couldn’t help himself when he’d decided to touch you on his own time, as a sort of tribute to the body he was in. the one who’s no longer able to touch you the way it had before.

the body that wasn’t his, capabilities near endless. especially when he’s already got you in front of him.

"what’s wrong, pretty thing? i’m still me."

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

https://twitter.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1738661113154220340?t=VYLoAeMTbPq_UQ-a7lMuVA&s=19

You were both so horny but you just ran out of your birth control and didn't have any condoms so Simon said he'd pull out only to have you riding him and refusing to get off of him and begging him to cum inside you

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

READ IT HERE

9-1-1, yes hello? There is an attempted murder in progress. Yes, it is on my sanity, thank you.

Seriously, you guys are trying to kill me, right? Because there is no way in hell I am supposed to read that and stay sane. I'm gonna have to take a minute just to get through the rest of this post after the flood of images that just entered by brain.

But damn if it ain't a pretty scenario to think about. I am mean come on, just thinking about you and Simon being so fucking out of your minds horny for each other that you are willing to risk everything is hot as hell. Just him heavy breathing in your ear, telling you how good he wants to make you feel, the vibration from his voice making your clit throb as his lips leave trails of tingles along the side of your neck from the warmth of his lips.

Just the feeling of you under his fingertips has him panting as he tries to shove his hands in your pants, in your shirt, or both if he's lucky. He needs to make you come, it's the only thing he cares about in that moment; he needs to know that he has the power to make you fall apart and it consumes him until it is agony.

Probably wouldn't even make it to the god damn bed before he is ripping off your clothes as fast as those thick fingers can get into them and then immediately throwing your legs on his shoulders and thrusting inside you the second he can; he'd just drag you onto the floor with him and spread your thighs wide. That massive, virile man isn't going be able to create anything more than a few coherent words before it's all grunts like an animal in heat.

"We'll be careful. Com' on, sweetheart...Mmmm fuck... swear I'll fuckin' pull out. Just need ta be inside ya."

(I can feel the flames licking at me right now just for thinking about this lol).

Then you end up on top and Simon is on cloud fucking nine watching you completely lose your mind at how good it feels that the minute you start begging him to come inside you, that promise he made to you about pulling out flies out the fucking window without a second thought. You pleading with him to fill you up is going to awaken that feral part of his brain that he will not be able to control and it's gonna be all over.

"Christ, can't say no to ya ever, pretty girl. Ya want it inside ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

He'd be so out of it, high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that he will not even fight you on it. He isn't even going to hesitate to keep going all the way until you both are a whole god damn mess and you are leaking his cum. Shit he'd make sure you got everything you want by keeping your hips locked together with his tight grip as he begins to slam up into you harder and harder, loudly grunting from the strain through that point of no return. The risk would be 100% worth it at that point.

And you'd be so gone with his cock shoved so far in you that your brain cannot even create a single thought other than to come on it. So what if this hot as hell romp leads to an oopsie; he'd make a great dad, right?

Don't worry, he's thinking the same thing and he's fine with it.

"Jus' don't fuckin' stop."

Give me a bit to write this all out cause I really really REALLY need this to be a full fledged fic.

[gorgeys]

kinda pervy!queen maeve x femsupe!reader

sorry this is so long but i finished season 3 and had to get this out of my system. maeve come home the kids miss you.

and pls more ppl write for her 🙏🙏

she doesn't want to be like this.  she really doesn't.  but as you sit down at your new seat across from her at your first seven meeting, all of her morals fly right out the window.

you're smiling up at homelander as he introduces you, but all maeve can see are your hands attempting to pull the low cut neckline of your suit up to cover more of your tits.  your suit's brand new and, like starlight's, shows more skin than your previous one which takes some getting used to on your end.

vought's costume department also made quite a few mistakes so your new suit is basically a size too small.  it's the world's best push-up bra, giving maeve so much to look at.  but it's the small opening of your suit over your rib cage that really gets her.  it shows just the teeniest big of your underboob and it's already driving her wild.

you're already not leaving up to imagination, but still, she wants to reach across the table and rip the black leather right off of you.  she wants to run her cold hands all over your chest and make your nipples turn hard under her thumbs.  she wants to grope and squeeze your tits and watch as your face morphs between pain and pleasure.

when you look over at her, you finally notice that she's been staring at you with what appears to be the meanest death glare you've ever seen.  she's leaning forward with her elbows on the table and a clenched jaw as if you're her next target.  you look away quickly, already scared of her.  you just hoped she didn't hate you.  she was your idol after all. oh, if you only knew what she was thinking.

you're too pre-occupied to notice, but every time you leave the conference room after a meeting, she always walks behind you.  of course, it's not an accident.  nothing she does is an accident.

she notices that whenever you walk in front of one of the boys (especially the deep), your hands constantly rest along the hem of your skirt which barely covers your bare ass, ready to pull it down and obstruct their prying eyes.  but with her, you don't seem to care.  it's probably because you think that you're both girls so you don't have anything to worry about.  little do you know she's the worst of them all.

her eyes constantly peek beneath your skirt, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.  a couple times she does get lucky and sees a bit of your white or pink cotton underwear.  one time she gets really lucky and instead catches your black lace panties and wonders who you could be wearing those for.  it's moments like those where she hopes you know she's looking.  she wants you to wear those for her, no one else.

but most days she's not that fortunate.  instead she just watches the sway of your hips and ass as you both walk over to the elevator.  again, she wants to run her hands all over you and feel every single curve.  she visualizes herself squeezing your ass and whispering in your ear how soft and smooth your skin is.  then she imagines bending you over something so she can see all of you.

but then you enter the elevator and turn around and smile sweetly at her.  having spent enough time in the seven, you know she won't ever smile back, but it doesn't really bother you.  you've accepted that's just who she is.  meanwhile, she contemplates pressing the emergency stop button, slamming you against the wall, and shoving her fingers so far inside of you that your brain goes fuzzy and tears are slipping down your pretty cheeks.

it's that same thought that keeps her awake at night.  she can almost hear your whines and moans echoing in her head.  she can hear you begging to cum all over her face and promising you'll be a good girl for her.  you're so loud in her head that she can't help but reach under her shorts and rub circles on her clit as she whispers your name into her pillow.  she thinks about fucking you so often that, to her, it feels like it's really happened.

one time she comes back late from a team-up and, on her way toward her room, peeks into the training room to find you practicing moves on a punching bag.  she stops and just watches through the window for a second.  your back is to her but your hair is up and she can see the sweat dripping off your neck, some of it hitting the mat beneath your feet.  she wonders what it tastes like.  probably salty, but also sweet because it's you after all.  she'd lick your sweat right off your neck in long stripes.  she'd probably lick it off the floor too if she was feeling extra thirsty.

she's torn.  she's tired and you look tired and if homelander catches her, he'll know something strange is going on.  but as you turn slightly toward her and use your tank top to wipe some sweat of your forehead, she makes her decision.

"hey" she says, leaning against the door frame.  you whip your head around and are more than surprised to see her of all people with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug half smile.  "need a training partner?"

you weren't going to say no to this uncharacteristically kind offering, even if you were just about to head upstairs.  so you're jumping around the mat at nearly midnight, dodging her blows and getting in a few licks of your own.  you're a pretty good fighter, but not as good as her, so it's not long before she has you pinned to the mat with one forearm against both your shoulders.

your chest is heaving beneath her arm and your mouth is slightly open.  she's never been this close to you before.  she feels like she's on fucking fire, feeling herself on top of you like this and feeling her skin against yours.  she would've been able to control herself if you weren't staring into her eyes like that, looking a little dazed but excited.  who can blame her for closing the distance and kissing you like there's no tomorrow?

you're beyond shocked.  more like stupefied.  you'd never even had an inkling that she had thought of you in this way.  in fact, you assumed she wanted to kill you sometimes.  but the way she kissed you so hard and dug her teeth in your bottom lip made you want her so badly that you could feel your panties growing wet.

with your little crush on her, you thought about this moment sometimes and assumed she'd be rough but my god she was rough with you that first time.  she barely let you move, keeping you completely pinned to the mat with one arm while the other snuck beneath your skirt.

"you don't even know how long i've been waiting for this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers push your panties to the side.  she's instantly assaulting your clit in fast, tight circles, leaving you writhing beneath her, though there's not much wiggle room between your bodies.

"maeve, what if somebody sees?" you ask between quiet whines.  what a suck up you were, constantly trying to gain points with the other members of the seven in hopes of gaining more power.  she especially hated the way you sucked up to homelander, always grinning at him and laughing at his stupid, gross jokes with hearts in your eyes.  a small part of her wanted him to see her fucking you so good.

"you'll keep taking my fingers, goody fucking two shoes," she says through gritted teeth before shoving a finger inside of you with no warning, causing your back to arch up and off of the mat.  "good girl, baby."

after that night, there's less staring and imagining but more touching and doing.  her hand grazes your ass when you pass each other in the hallway.  she pretends to swat a fly away from your chest and ends up smacking one of your tits.  it always ends with that same no-good smile.

you try your best to only end the night in maeve's room if homelander's out on a mission, but she grows impatient.  you're an addiction and every little taste she gets leaves her wanting more.  she especially gets handsy when you've spent a lot of unnecessary time with homelander.

"y'think he can fuck you like this?" she asks, her strap buried deep inside of you.  you're sat on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around her waist and hands tangled in her hair as she relentlessly pounds into you, pushing you toward your third orgasm.  you moan a "no" into her shoulder before biting down on her skin.  "yeah, that's what i thought.  if i see you touching him again, i swear i'll strip you naked and fuck you in front of him.  now cum before i change my mind and don't let you."

she once threatened to make you wear a vibrator to one of the seven meetings after you came back from a team-up with homelander's arm around your shoulders.  but, after a lot of begging and time spent on your hands and knees feverishly eating her out, maeve finally forgot about the idea.  he would've probably seen it anyways.

but, one of, if not her favorite time fucking you is on a random sunday when homelander's out doing day-time talk show interviews.  she drags you into the seven conference room and sits in homelander's chair at the head of the table.

"feels good, does it, baby?" you say, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her, reaching underneath your skirt and shimmying your panties off.

she sighs a sigh of accomplishment and leans her head back against the chair without taking her hungry eyes off of you.  "feels fucking fantastic."

then she's rolling her chair forward, locking her arms around your thighs, and pulling your pussy toward her mouth.  you lie back on the table with your legs over her shoulders and moan maeve's name as her lips enclose your clit and suck harshly.  she shushes you but with her lips against your cunt, the vibrations only leave you struggling to compose yourself.

the rush of power from eating you out in homelander's chair makes her hungrier than ever and she laps you up quickly, collecting your juices on her tongue and swallowing proudly to avoid leaving behind a mess.  "you taste better than ever, baby," she says, licking her lips before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss.

everything's going well until one fateful meeting when homelander's getting on your ass about some dumb little thing you said in an interview that's been twisted by fans and is now trending on twitter.  he was talking to you like you were a mentally unstable infant and it was starting to piss maeve off.

"hey, cool it, homelander," she interrupts him mid-sentence as he ranted on about your "tiny pea brain."  he turns his face, which was inches away from yours, toward maeve who was coolly leaned back in her chair.  they had a stern staring contest for a few moments before something inside of him snapped.

"just cause y/n's slutting herself out to you doesn't mean you have to be her lesbian knight in shining armor, maeve."  maeve was far better at hiding her shock than you were.  "yeah i fucking knew about you two.  don't think you can hide anything from me."

and that was when your secret arrangement turned into a very public one.  you would be lucky to escape this situation with your life.  luckily maeve would never let you go without a fight.

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

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

In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving

[pixlpxie]

I often watch seonghwa live streams to fall asleep cause he's just so comforting

his voice is so calming and soothing that even if I can't fall asleep I'm at least able to relax and be at peace

except for that one time when I was watching one of my favourite live streams of his (it's a vlive where he's laying in bed with a bear plushie)

where I just got really horny from his raspy sleepy voice.

THE LIVE IS SO WHOLESOME

why am I like that

brain empty

no thoughts

just seonghwas ginormous tongue

You shouldn't have said this bc now all I think of rn is somno (?) with sleepy seonghwa 👹👹

Like just imagine cuddling him while sleeping, he'd be spooning you and suddenly he'd wake up feeling horny af bc you would accidentally keep rubbing yourself against him during your sleep.

He'd be too sleep deprived to be able to think clearly, so instead of helping himself he'd just try to wake you up by whining your name into your ear with his raspy voice. Your deep sleep would be disrupted and before you could even understand what was going on, you'd hear his desperate voice, almost begging you as he reached down to your bottoms:

"Angel, please... Let me... ugh..." His words wouldn't even be coherent because of how sleepy he was. You wouldn't understand what was he asking you, maybe he was talking in his sleep. But the moment you realized the way his already hard dick was pressing against your ass, you'd understand his desperation. You would mumble some words under your breath as well, but to be honest, neither of you would understand a single word.

He wouldn't have the patience to get rid of your clothes so he'd just pull your panties to the side, and slowly start to enter your warm pussy, making a small moan escape from your lips. His movements wouldn't be as fast as he usually was, instead they'd be slow and sloppy because of his sleepy state. He would hear your small whimpers and moans as he fucked you in your sleep. His free hand would start playing with your tits under your shirt like it was a natural instinct for him. You would hear him whimper in your ear with his rough sleepy voice, "Thank you baby... mmh so good..." Even in his half-asleep state, he would worship you.

As you both would get closer to the edge, he would switch his hand from your tits to your clit to make you cum before him. He would already be so close, and finally he would cum into your pussy. But you both would fall asleep right away, so he wouldn't pull away from you. You would keep sleeping while cockwarming him and keeping his cum inside you till the morning as he kept hugging you from behind. Not that either of you would complain...

[vampirehoon]

bathroom tiles ࿔*࿐⋆

w.c. ⟢ 1.4k

pairing ⟢ yeonjun x afab!reader

synopsis ⟢ a party in which you dragged your other half, yeonjun, and find yourself finding peace and quiet in a bathroom stall. yeonjun finds you after not seeing you since you went off. here you and yeonjun are, on the bathroom tiles - confessing how much you enjoy spending tonight with each other.

genre ⟢ best friends to lovers (fluff)

a/n ⟢ hi! this is a story i had prepared for if i got my tumblr account started and it has! (ty, i’m never gonna stop thanking) and i hope whoever read this, they will enjoy it. <3

⋆ ·˚ ༘ *

choi yeonjun hated parties.

but because of your popularity of getting invitations, he was always dragged to them. of course he never complained but after every single one, he would express his pure hatred for them walking home together.

you promised that this one would be different, and yeonjun hoped you were right.

he always liked walking to the parties; partially because the parties are always close by but also it gives him time to speak with you clearly before having to yell at each other through the blasting (horribly remixed) music.

“whose party did you say this was?”

“a girl in my biology class?”

he looks at you, unimpressed.

“y/n, do you even know her name?”

“no.”

yeonjun scoffs, and you can’t help but laugh at his disappointment.

“but this party promised good service” you attempt to defend your decision.

yeonjun doesn’t bother responding as you two get to the beginning of the stairs that lead to the party doors.

the music is already giving him a headache, he takes your hand.

“why don’t we have our own party?” he invites you two to get out of this party.

“yeonjun, I promised people I'd be here.”

“break a promise for once.” he begs.

“nice try.” you grip yeonjuns hand and haul him up the stairs to enter the party.

yeonjun and you enter the doors and are immediately taken back. the whole gym floor is covered by students in bright outfits. yeonjun’s black tux and your deep blue dress are giving bridesmaid and groom-man.

by the squeeze of yeonjun’s hand, you know he’s not into this.

“food will make you happier.” you say to yeonjun.

a mumble escapes his mouth as you bring him to the food table. sparkling cupcakes and a chocolate fountain catch your attention first.

yeonjun sees you testing out the chocolate fountain. you cover a marshmallow and bite it. it’s so good!

you can’t enjoy your marshmallow chocolate sensation when yeonjuns thumb rubs the side of your lip.

his furrowed eyebrows made you laugh.

“don’t have too much fun.” he cleans your chocolate on your lips and looks into your eyes.

“well, you’ll realize it’s worth it,” you grab a marshmallow, coat it, and bring it to yeonjun lips. “when you have it yourself.”

yeonjun knew you’d shove it in his mouth if he didn’t accept it, so he opens his mouth and took it.

you watch him closely.

his puffy cheeks were adorable as he enjoyed the marshmallow. you knew he was resisting to admit it was good when his lips shook away a small smile.

“it’s kind of worth it-“

“yeonjun!” you swat his arm, he breaks out in a laugh.

“okay, it’s worth it.”

“you’re being annoying tonight.”

he sighs. “it’s annoying you brought me.”

you two eat a few more marshmallows and then a song you two know well turns on.

“oh?” you look at the dance floor.

yeonjun wipes his hands and looks over also.

“do you want to?” you look at yeonjun.

he meets your eyes with a nod.

you two travel to the dance floor, the music getting louder.

he first dances small and when you begin doing a ridiculous sprinkler. his laughs become music to your ears.

both of you laugh and smile while dancing. he looks at you everytime the song increases in bass.

maybe even 2 minutes in the song you pause. yeonjun dances in front of you without noticing.

the headaches that feel like your brain is bruised, you have only ever heard about from yeonjun, is happening to you. i need to go somewhere quiet, you thought.

“yeonjun, i’ll be back.” you yell.

yeonjun raises his eyebrows.

“bathroom!” you yell.

he gives you a thumbs up.

through the crowd you exit, your headache grows more. you hit the door with your arm and then finally get out into the hall.

yeonjun found no reason to stay dancing so he returned to the snack table. drinking a sweet drink as he waits for you to return.

pounding, your head is pounding. the music was further away as you went down the bathroom stalls. you open the last door and rest on the wall to rub your forehead.

5 minutes, and yeonjun was just by himself. he wondered if you left. yeonjun first decides to check the bathroom.

as he approaches he’s weary to enter the girls bathroom but knew he needed to see if you were in there.

a creek in the door, he pops his head in first. surprisingly, this bathroom was dim. most likely from the bright energy consuming party, yeonjun thought.

he enters and looks down the bathroom stalls.

“y/n?” he first whispers.

he kneels down to see if he can see anything and when he sees the deep blue dress of yours, he heads to the stall.

yeonjun knocks.

“y/n?”

you stood up to open the stall door. yeonjun’s hand stayed in the air from knocking and dropped when you gesture for him to enter.

“why are you here?” “did you go to the bathroom?”

“no.” you sit back in your original spot and yeonjun finds a place in front of you.

resting on the back of the wall, yeonjun asks another question.

“why did you stay in here?”

“the music was killing me. i had to leave.”

“we could have ditched together,”

“but you were having fun..”

he scoffs which grabs your attention.

“fun? i was having fun with you.” “i stopped dancing after you left.”

you don’t say anything, just thinking.

“sorry.” you say.

“what for?”

“this whole party. i’ve never asked you if you want to go or if you like coming to them with me.”

yeonjun rests on the wall, his suit flowing over him. you look at his tie and he adjusts it.

“i don’t mind,” yeonjun confesses.

you furrow your eyebrows. yeonjun has only ever told you how much he hates them.

“we are talking about parties yeonjun?” you ask, in case he’s talking about something else.

“yeah i know.”

yeonjun’s eyes meet yours. he looks at you for a second before speaking again.

“of course i hate them, but spending time with you is so fun.”

“so i don’t mind them.”

you swear he looks like a dream. his suit fit him well and looked very attractive on him. you wonder if it’s because of the headache you are feeling this way.

yeonjun laughs under his breath which interrupts your thoughts. you look at yeonjun, and he sighs.

“you’re not falling for me right?”

you burn up instantly, pink cheeks you attempt to cover.

“what! no!”

“i’m teasing.”

his soft smile grows as his eyes move to the ground. could he read your thoughts? you want to say something but the music is heard through the walls again.

a faint popular love song.

you adore this certain song and it always makes you think of an ideal kiss with someone in your fantasies.

you sigh, fixing your dress “if only my headache went away, then we could return to the dance floor”

“why?”

“so we could, at least, remember tonight..”

“i mean we still can.”

you look up at him and meet his eyes.

the bathroom becomes suffocating, you feel your heart race as yeonjun looks into your eyes. reading your exact thoughts.

as cliché as a romance movie, time slows down in favor of the tension between you two. he’s leaning into you slowly with the chorus of the song leading up.

as he sits up and makes his way to you, his hands crawl on the tile and stop right next to your hands.

yeonjun’s right there. so close that you could count how many eyelashes he has.

“may i?” yeonjun asks, just in case you don’t want this.

but you want this.

“yes.”

the way his lips fit yours, and his hold on your lips made your body go weak. your hands go to his face, cupping him to deepen the kiss.

his hands are comfortably holding your waist. his fingers tickle you as he brings you closer to him.

and to make it better, the song just made the kiss last forever. the passion between you two grows with the flow in the song.

you would have never expected to kiss yeonjun, let alone make out with him.. in a bathroom. this party turned out better than yeonjun anticipated.

𓉸ྀི ©vampirehoon

[zombiigrll]

LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

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── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────────────

it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon Riley (Priest AU) - Forgive me, Father.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,203

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ Sacrilege, priest, mentions of prayer and common language used in confessionals - overall religious content that may upset some. Abuse of power. Mentions of being used and somnophilia. Cussing. Masturbation (Simon & reader).

Summary: After having improper thoughts weighing guilt on your mind, you decide to resort to confession. Simon has methods of how you can be forgiven.

Notes: Um, well, yeah. I’m not sure what to say. Writing this whole thing was a 'damn, Catholicism ingrained in me fr' moment from how I literally closed my eyes to remember how I would walk into church & what would be said in confession. Ha. Anyway. Minimal proofreading, I felt too dirty to re-read.

find my masterlist here

You weren't a frequent churchgoer. After years of Catholic school, it all became tiring and felt almost forced at this rate, but you went for the holidays like Easter & Christmas - at your grandparents request to be fair.

But, old habits die hard and one day you find yourself pulling into the parking lot of the church. Maybe it was the Catholic guilt ingrained in you that drew you to go today. 

The large wood doors creaked as you opened them and walked into the church. Every Catholic church looked the same to you - the stained glass, the architecture, the same old wooden pews either their original wood or coated in layers of white paint refreshed over the years. And every church you had ever been to was always so cold - why?

Every single move was like muscle memory. Your fingers dipped into the font that contained the holy water, quietly whispering as you did the sign of the cross and genuflected. 

Your eyes scanned the church, noting the layout as you located the confessional. Once you entered and sat down, you rang the tiny bell to indicate your presence. Heavy footsteps outside getting closer as you heard the priest enter the other side of the confessional, the divider sliding open so you can only make out the figure through the tiny holes.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." The words are spoken in unison. His voice is clearer to you now as he only speaks now, "May God who has enlightened every heart, help you to know your sins and trust in His mercy." In response, you quietly whisper 'amen' in return.

Clearing your throat and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you prepare to speak. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was 5 years ago. These are my sins.." The list of sins are far more minimal in nature such as disrespecting your parents, gossiping, lying and so forth.

Then, you finally get to what has been weighing on your mind like a ton of bricks. "And impure thoughts.." Your words trailing off, the sound of the priest shifting on the other side noticeable from the close proximity despite the divider separating you both. "In order to truly know the severity, what do these impure thoughts include, my child?" He asks, your body tensing as the question catches you off guard. "Ah, regarding premarital sex acts, Father."  You respond, fingers fidgeting with the rings on your hands. "Explain." This is all he says before the silence lingers in the small space before you speak again. "This is only to help your absolution." His voice urges you to continue, the words trying to ease you to come clean. “Well," Swallowing the lump in your throat, your cheeks burning from embarrassment despite your identity being unknown to him. "The thoughts consist of being used at will by a man. To be degraded and fucked until I'm begging for him to stop, but my whines only encourage him to continue. I don't want him to stop.” Your voice is strained, as if you're scared to admit it out loud. And truthfully, this was the first time you had admitted the thoughts out loud.  Your thighs squeeze together as your brain digs deeper into the thoughts you’ve been suppressing for a few months now. 

The sound of the priest clearing his throat pulls your attention back. “Surely that isn’t all, my child.” He says, and you shake your head in response even if he can’t see. “N-No. That isn’t all.” Rings spinning around your fingers as you continue to fidget from nerves. “Please remember, I need to know everything to offer you absolution.” Nodding, you swish spit in your mouth to coat the dryness to some extent and swallow. 

“I-I think about being woken up in the night, the man already buried deep in me. My body  doesn’t resist the feeling and clenching around him as my consciousness regains from sleep.” The heat between your thighs grows as you now shift in the seat, one leg moves to cross over the other in an effort to control the sensation.

The sound of a zipper coming undone is undeniable as your ears pick up on it, your lips parting slightly from shock as you process what’s happening on the other side of the confessional. “Father?” Your voice barely whispers, wondering if you acknowledge it, then he would stop. “Are these thoughts about anyone specific?” He mutters, his hand palming himself through his boxers. “No, just general desires, Father.” 

He inhales a breath and exhales before he speaks. “Have you acted on these thoughts?” No, but you fucking wish. “No, Father.” And maybe it was your own thoughts warping, but you could have sworn you heard him mumble the words, ‘Forgive me, Father’. 

On the other side of the confessional, unbeknown to you, the priest had now pulled his cock free from the constraints of his briefs. Biting back a groan, his hand comes up to his mouth as he quietly spits into his palm before he wraps it around himself. “For your penance, you must do exactly as I say, understood?” He speaks, his voice sounds low, demanding in a way. 

“Understood, Father.” You reply, your chest rising and falling slowly as you anticipate what he is going to say next. “We must rid you of these thoughts. You need to release them.” He murmurs, his hand slowly pumping up and then down. “Be a good girl and spread your legs.” 

Oh my God. Like actually, oh my God. Your brain rings in your head, doing as you're told and spreading your legs. Hearing the movement, he continues to speak. “My child, what are you wearing?” The question is simple, your hand already sliding down to the exposed panties your dress reveals once your legs are spread. “Knee length sundress.” You respond, your head leaning back against the wood of the confessional as your fingers rub the fabric covering your already wet cunt. “Hmm, and I suppose that length is useless as your legs are spread. Exposing yourself like a good girl, but such a slut.” The word slut drips from his mouth like venom, the tone of his voice sending excitement through your body. “Slide the panties off.” He orders, and you obey as you reach for the waistband and slide them down to your ankles, shaking them off to the floor of the confessional. “They’re off, Father.” You whisper, glancing at the divider. Never in your life did you want to be seen more than in this moment. “Father Simon.” He corrects. “Call me Father Simon.” 

“Father Simon.” You repeat the name he asked you to call him. A quiet groan travels to your side of the confessional and you can’t help but move your fingers to rub between your folds. The fact he was groaning to you just saying his title was causing your stomach to tie into knots. “What do I need to do, Father Simon?” You beg, wanting him to continue directing you. “Such an eager girl to be forgiven. You wouldn’t need forgiveness if you weren’t such a slut.” He hissed. “But you come into this confessional and speak of how you wish to be used. To be degraded. Do you think you can be forgiven?” 

“I-I want to be forgiven.” Your fingers build up your excitement, teasing your folds as your fingers move to give your clit some attention as you rub it gently. “I’m sorry, Father Simon. I’m sorry.” You choke out, almost forgetting to breathe amidst the pleasure. “Just because you’re sorry does not guarantee forgiveness.” Simon’s own hand continues to pump his cock, his thumb brushes over the head as some pre-cum oozes out. “You sound stupid saying sorry. Saying sorry while I can hear your hand moving as you touch yourself. Take those fingers and fuck yourself with three of them.” The order coming out of his mouth leaves you breathing shakily.

“F-Father, three?” You ask in order to clarify his demand. “R-Right away?” You needed time to adjust, even with your own slender fingers it took time before you could even have two. “You heard me.” He responds, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t disappoint me, sweetheart.” Simon’s hand starts to pump his cock faster, his free hand moves to massage his balls. 

While you’re already wet, just to be sure you take your index, middle and ring finger to your lips. Your mouth wrapping around the fingers, sucking and swirling your tongue to coat them in saliva. Pulling them away, you carefully position them, teasing your entrance before you push into yourself. Your free hand covers your mouth as you feel them stretching you slightly. A moan muffled by your hand is the additional sound mixed with your fingers starting to pump in and out of you, the wet stickiness filling the confessional. “Oh, sweetheart. You must look so beautiful spread out fucking yourself with your fingers.” Simon coos through the divider, his breaths shallow. “I wish I could bury my cock into that wet, tight cunt. Let me hear you pray to God for that.” 

Closing your eyes as he speaks, you imagine the priest grabbing your hips and forcing himself into you, despite having no idea of his appearance. Your head against the wood of the confessional again as you try to hold your moans in even with your hand over your mouth, scared if anyone else were to enter the church they would hear you both behind these curtains. “I don’t hear you.” Simon growls, glancing at the divider to barely see the movements of your hand as your body moves in response. “G-God, please. I want Father Simon’s cock.” He hears you whimper quietly, a grin forming on his face. “Oh..such a good, good girl.” Simon’s voice acknowledging your compliance. Your fingers curl inside as he praises you, allowing yourself the small reward. “Father Simon, I-I’m so wet.” 

“Mmph..those pretty little fingers must be slick with your juices.” Simon’s own head leaning against the wood of the confessional now, eyes closed as he pumps his cock faster and pushes down hard. The image of his cock disappearing in between your folds making his thoughts spin. “Keep pumping those fingers. We need to make you cum. Release the thoughts that are rotting your brain.” Simon’s teeth grit together, a soft hissing sound coming out as his pump down puts pressure on him.

Not trusting yourself, your hand is back on your mouth. The sound of your wet cunt getting pumped with your fingers fills both your ears and Simon’s, the squishing sounds push him closer to his own release. And for you, the thought of his cock instead of your fingers pulling you closer to the edge before you jump off and release. Whimpering into your palm, you clench around your fingers and pump a few more times before releasing around them. Your thighs immediately squeezing shut as you try to control your shaking. “S-Simon.” You cry softly, lips parted as you pant softly. “F-Fuck.” He groans, the hand not pumping his now cum covered cock fists and hits the confessional wall. The release that had been building up in him for months now. 

“In addition, you leave your panties behind. Along with that, I expect you to recite twenty Hail Mary’s and twenty Our Father’s after your release. Make an act of contrition.” His voice strained from his recent climax. Dazed from your own climax as well, the words come out of your mouth without hesitation, “My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good…” Pausing for a brief moment, you swallow a lump in your throat. “I have sinned against You, whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with Your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, suffered and died for us. In His Name, my God, have mercy. Amen.” After the words leave your lips, you catch your breath again.

The sound of Simon readjusting and zipping himself up is the only sound you hear in response. “F-Father?” You say softly, awaiting for him to absolve you. “My child…” Simon’s voice sounds like it did when you first sat in the confessional. “God cannot give you pardon and peace as of today. Therefore, I cannot absolve you of your sins. Come back in five days after I’ve had some time to rest and ask God for a final answer.” 

And with that, the sound of footsteps fill the church once more, followed by the door to the sacristy opening and closing indicating he would not be seen by you when you left. The response leaves you stunned for a few moments, before your legs get the strength to stand up and exit the confessional. The hand you didn’t use to finger yourself gently dips into the font as you leave, the sign of the cross spoken softly as you walk out.

[snowsinterlude]

˚ ᜔ ࣪ gone girl. 🪽 ͣ ͣ

(coriolanus snow x reader)

summary: coriolanus snow, your dear husband, was the prime suspect ever since you disappeared.

c.w: short, short fic, drama, mentions to cheating, mature content, coriolanus pov, mentions of blood and crime scene.

a/n: i may keep this idea alive if it doesn't flop. this is just the first part of the movie/book and will probably be a looong fic. thank youu

when I think of my wife, I always think of her head. In her shape, first of all. when we first met, it was the back of the head I noticed, and there was something lovely about it, about its angles. like a hard, shiny grain of corn, or a fossil in a riverbed. It was what the victorians would call a beautifully formed head. you could imagine the skull quite easily.

I'd recognize her head anywhere.

and what was inside it. I also think about this: her mind. her brain, all those spirals, and her thoughts darting through those spirals like fast, frantic centipedes. like a child, I imagine myself opening his skull, uncoiling her brain and searching through it, trying to capture and understand her thoughts. what are you thinking, Y/n? the question I asked most often during our marriage, though not out loud, not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions hang like dark clouds over every marriage: what are you thinking? how are you feeling? who are you? what have we done to each other? what will we do?

standing outside of our home, by the trash cans, i decided to enter our home. asleep, she didn't bother waking up and greeting me, kissing me goodbye. I thanked her for it, for giving me the place to be the caring husband of a tired wife.

making my way to the clothing shop I owned with my cousin, I was forced to move back to the old penthouse in Panem when she called; grandma'am was sick.

“Tigris, I'll come back home. you don't have to take care of everything alone.” I said. she didn't believed me- i could hear her sighing on the other side of the line. “I'm serious, Ti. and why not? there's nothing for me here.

“And Y/N?”

I haven't thought about it. I simply thought that I could wrap my capitol wife with her capitol interests, her capitol pride, push her away from her capitol parents and everything would be fine. it wouldn't. of course it wouldn't. 

but would I admit it? of course no.

“Y/N will be fine. she..” I stopped myself before saying that she loved Grandma'am. she didn't. every encounter they had was a shock to both of them. Y/N would spend days dissecting a single conversation they had. “— and what does she mean with…” as if my Grandmother was a stranger to the Capitol, as if she was a beggar who was begging for something that wasn't offered in the first place.

and yet, with her wanting nothing to do with my family, i still thought it was a great idea to bring her to the other side of where we lived on the capitol.

“well, hello, your majesty.” Tigris said, sprinkling water on my face.

“your majesty doesn't like getting wet.” I said.

“yeah, fine. what's up, snowflake?” she asked. I didn't answer.

“i cheated on her.” i blurted out. 

“on who- on y/n? coriolanus are you crazy?”

“what- no! i'm not. i was tempted and-”

“and nothing. y/n loves you– or so i think. do you know what women do when they discover something like that?” Tigris looked at me angrily, and for the first time i felt fear- true fear. the more i thought about it, the more i felt dumb. my wife would go through heaven and hell if it meant she could have her vengeance on something that hurt her. “you better pray for her not to find out. we both know y/n is not that simple to deal with.”

🪫

it was our fifth year aniversary when i woke up with my breath warming the pillow this morning. i walked barefoot to the edge of the stairs and listened, playing with my toes on the thick wall-to-wall carpet that y/n hated on principle, as i tried to decide if i was ready to join my wife. y/n was in the kitchen, oblivious to my hesitation. she hummed something melancholic and familiar. i struggled to figure out what it was—a folk song? a lullaby? — and then i realized it was the theme song to virgins suicides. suicide is painless. I went down the stairs.

nothing is happy with her.

y/n spied the crepe sizzling in the pan and licked something off her wrist. she looked triumphant, the typical married woman. if i held her in my arms, i would smell red fruits and powdered sugar.

when she saw me looking at me in my old boxer shorts, my hair standing on end, she leaned on the kitchen counter and said:

“hello, handsome.” fear filled my throat. i thought to myself: okay, go ahead.

💋

i was very late for work. my cousin and I had done a foolish thing when we returned to our grandma'am house. we did what we always said we wanted to do. we opened a bar. we borrowed money from y/n for this, eighty thousand dollars, an amount that had once been nothing to her, but was then almost everything. i swore I would return it, with interest. i wasn't going to be a man who borrowed money from his wife — I could feel my father grimacing at the mere mention of the idea. well, there are all kinds of men, was his most damning sentence, the second half unspoken: and you're the wrong kind.

but it was actually a practical decision, a smart business move. y/n and I needed new careers; that would be mine. she would choose one someday, or not, but in the meantime, it would produce an income, made possible by the rest of the nest egg. just like the ridiculous house I had rented, the bar appeared symbolically in my childhood memories — a place where only adults went, to do whatever adults did. maybe that's why I insisted so much on buying it after being deprived of my livelihood. it was a reminder that I was an adult after all, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I had lost the career that had made me all those things. I wouldn't make that mistake again: the once-vigorous herds of magazine journalists would continue to be slaughtered—by the Internet, by the recession, by the Panem public, who preferred to watch TV, play video games, or electronically inform their friends that, like, rain It sucks! But there was no application for a rush of bourbon on a hot day, in a cool, dark bar. the world will always want a drink.

we called the bar The Bar. “people will think we're ironic rather than creatively bankrupt,” my cousin reasoned.

yes, we thought we were smart in a New Panem way—that the name was a joke that no one else would really get, not like us. don't meta-sack. we imagine the locals turning up their noses: why did you call it The Bar? but our first customer, a gray-haired woman in bifocals and a pink tracksuit, said, “I like the name. like in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, where Audrey Hepburn’s cat is called Puss.”

we felt a lot less superior after that, which was good.

I entered the parking lot. I waited for a strike to sound at the bowling alley—thanks, thanks, friends—and then I got out of the car. I admired the surroundings, not yet bored by the sight: the squat, light-brick post office across the street (now closed on Saturdays), the unassuming beige office building just below (now closed, period). the city was not prosperous, not anymore, not by a long shot. I dared myself to dream about the long-lost dream i had when i was young; dreaming that i'd be the president that would make Panem great again. that was something that had always been stuck to me. with me.

but now, watching the blood of my wife on the floor of our house when i arrived on our fifth anniversary, a chill went up and down through all my body as i searched for her, my eyes didn't even blink while i searched for anything that prooved me that she's alive; that she's there. and that it was just a prank; but she wasn't. the more i looked for her through the house, the more i saw her, but not physically. i saw her in the small things she put there and there when decorating our house, even on my office there were small things that reminded me of her.

i would never escape her. loved her too much to escape.

so, when the police arrived and searched through all the house– now, a crime scene– and determined that I was the prime suspect, i threw up.

[miirohs]

get up [b.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader wc: 3.4k cw: reader is sick, chan is slightly toxic, reader gets grabbed, I can’t write hurt comfort 😻 an: pls pls pls once again i do not support any sort of criminal activities and anything in this fic is meant to be treated as a work of fiction !!! Inspired by nwjs get up !

You ran down the slope down the street, heels in hand as the train of your dress flew behind you.

The night air cut into your cheeks and arms, cold and wild as it whistled into your ears. It had slipped your mind to bring a coat, but your first priority was to get out. You were sick of the party and its suffocating air.

The whole evening was a blur of insincere conversations with the fakest smile you could muster, and the growing feeling of being trapped. He wouldn’t stop ignoring you, but the straw that broke the camel's back was when he snapped at you for talking to someone else in the middle of the dance floor, leading all the eyes in the room to you.

You had begged and begged Chan not to bring you in the first place, but he was relentless. You never did well in social events anyways.

However being on the streets alone might have been better than being forced to stand there for another minute.

Your head pounded as your footsteps echoed in your ears, a scraping noise that hurt your brain. The street was dimly lit by golden lights, and as you looked ahead you could see the glimmer lights of the valley. It was buzzing with energy, a stark contrast of the neighborhood you bumbled through.

It was quiet, and yet the sounds of the town still reached you.

The cold was not helping any bit, leaving you shaking as you huddled yourself closer. Your vision blurred slightly when you stopped, bones aching as you stared into the distance.

For a while you were sure you were being followed, but the clattering of something metal behind you confirmed everything. Slowly, you took off your heels, holding them before you took off.

You ran for a while, breath caught painfully in your throat as you tried to hack out the cold air. You came to a stop on a bridge, hands on your knees as you panted. There seemed to be no indication of them, and you finally relaxed, dropping the straps of your heels.

There were two resounding shots in your direction all the sudden, and you stumbled over your train, hitting your knee weirdly on the ground as you tried to run.

The aggressors finally caught up, pressing something to the back of your neck as they muttered to each other in voices you could barely recognize in your dazed state.

From your place on the ground, the lights seemed to blend together. Your body ached, and tears seemed to slip from your eyes as you faced the ground.

“Oh god she’s crying- Minho, what the fuck are we suppose to do?”

“I don’t know Changbin. I think we should let Chan take care of her-”

Minho was immediately cut off by the sound of a car rolling up. The doors opened up and they both went silent, the person holding the gun to the back of your head moving back as another pair of footsteps joined the scene.

“Why is she crying? I thought I told you to bring her back without a single scratch.”

“It’s not our fault she started running! She’s the one who should know better!”

“Watch your mouth Lee Minho. We may be friends but that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

You stiffened, hanging your head as he got closer, feeling his presence directly behind you. You didn’t say anything as he lifted you up, placing you in the car before slamming the door shut to talk to Minho and Changbin, who gave the car a slight look of concern before turning back to Chan.

Minutes seemed to turn into hours as he talked, your shaking slowly ceasing. The sudden change in temperature seemed to make the headache worse, and you gripped your head, curling into a ball. Your knee also didn’t help your case.

Finally he entered the car, stern silence spiraling as the driver started on Chan's command.

He finally broke the silence, tone cold and clipped as he watched you squirm into the corner of your seat.

“Do you know how much trouble you caused me back there?”

He was staring at you with an accusatory look when you looked away, staring at your hands to avoid his face.

"I... I didn't mean to cause any trouble," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tsked, expression unreadable as city lights passed by in a blur.

His voice was measured when he finally spoke, his words punctuated as you sped down the lane. "You didn't mean to cause trouble? Yet here we are."

You curled back into a ball, wincing when your knee jerked a little from the sudden movement. When you didn’t reply, he wrenched you forward slightly, causing you to let out a whimper.

“I hope you know the consequences you caused for me. I had to put three very important deals on hold because you just had to run away. Now, I expect you to be on your best behavior when we get home, and you better not interrupt me unless it's important.” He hissed, a dangerous look in his eyes.

He let go of your arm and leaned back, staring out the window. You rubbed it, throat heavy as you tried to say something back, eventually settling into the uncomfortable silence.

When you arrived home, he immediately left the car, handing his coat to an attendant left behind to handle you. You watched him disappear into the depths of the house, a sense of isolation settling in.

You felt so incredibly shitty, and it wasn’t just the cold, but the guilt and embarrassment racking up in your stomach.

"Come, let's get you inside and warmed up," the attendant said softly, guiding you gently towards the entrance of the huge mansion. The house seemed to settle into a quiet rhythm, the noise of the world outside a distant echo as you settled down for the night, heart heavy.

Whatever it was you had only seemed to worsen over the next few days though, the soreness of your throat and muscles only getting worse. It was constantly cold and your knee seemed to be acting up despite the care you tried to give it.

You managed to keep the symptoms under wraps, but you were so tired, barely catching a wink of sleep as you wandered aimlessly in the halls.

To add injury to the insult, Chan seemed to be ignoring you, avoiding you at all times of day and barely allowing you to catch a glimpse of him. As you tried to approach him, he’d always direct you to the nearest member, walking away with the others and leaving the both of you in an awkward situation.

It was the fourth day, and you were already tired of it. Again, it went as you predicted, with Chan leaving after a curt nod to poor Jeongin, who seemed tired of being sacrificed to the tension between the both of you.

You stood in front of him, wrapping the blanket tightly around you as Jeongin watched you awkwardly.

“I don’t bite,” you joked, voice raspy from the acheness of your throat.

“I know… I know I'm… just worried? Are you okay?” You blinked for a moment, processing the question before nodding vigorously as you could.

“Yep, mhm, totally! I’m going to be okay, now do you mind walking me to my room?” You said, looking at him expectantly.

Relaxing slightly, he signaled towards the hall, holding a reluctant hand out. "Of course, let's go."

Slowly, you both made your way through the mansion's corridors, your steps slow and deliberate. You think you had a cold but it was taking far too long to recover from whatever it was you caught.

You stopped in front of your door, and Jeongin let go, a passive look on his face as you opened the door with a whooping cough. The dizziness has returned, so you’d try your best not to make a spectacle out of it.

“T-thanks Innie, i’ll be fine," you managed to say, your voice rough and strained due to the coughing fit. You gave him a weak smile, sincere despite the physical discomfort.

Jeongin returned the smile, though it was faint. "Make sure to rest well and take care of yourself," he advised softly.

You tried to reply back, but suddenly the lightheadedness that was impending hit you, causing you to collapse. The sensation was disorienting, the black ebbing into the corner of your eyes. You could hear Jeongin yelling and shaking you, but you were too tired, closing your eyes in hope your rest would be at least a little nicer now.

——————

It was warm. Soft too.

You nuzzled your head into a pillow next to your face, groaning slightly. Everything felt heavy, and you barely felt like moving from the cocoon of warmth. You rested there for a couple heartbeats, curling into the blankets.

It was useless though, as the light of the room coaxed you out of your drowsiness. You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes as you felt your knee. There was a thick bandage over it that you hadn’t remembered putting on, and it wrapped tightly so the pressure would alleviate the pain.

“You’re awake.” Your eyes snapped open again, looking wildly around the room. “Over here,” You turned your head to the doorway, Chan leaning against it, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. He had a bag in his hand, if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he had been casually walking by when he decided to visit.

Suddenly, the thing that was bugging you hit you like a flash, and you took a good look around the room. “This isn't my room,” You whispered raspily, looking back down at the black sheets, “what am i doing here?”

“Jeongin saw you collapse, when I came in they told me you were dehydrated and sick. I told them to bring you here so that I could monitor you instead of forcing you to stay confined to your room,” Chan stated, putting down the things he’d brought in with him.

You fell silent as his revelation, picking at your nails as he shuffled around the room.

"I brought you some stuff to help with the cold," he said, voice rough. "You should try to eat something, even if it's just a little." You could have imagined you had heard a hint of remorse, but even if it was there, it was gone in a blink.

He sat down next to you, reaching over the blankets to pull you forward. You looked at his arm, covered in tattoos and faint scars. You could almost trace them from memory, having gone over them multiple times.

He immediately noticed you doing so, palm up and fingers spread, almost as if offering to let you trace his arm once again. You didn’t take him up on it though, only staring at him with a blank look on your face. Quickly, he drew back his hand, coughing into it to cover the awkwardness of the situation.

After a while, he broke the silence, tone slightly annoyed as he eyeballed you.

“So. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You muttered, confused as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Tell me that you were-” He paused, running his hands through his curls with a certain frustration that seemed to roll off him. “That you were sick. You could have avoided this if you had just told me-”

“Who was the one that avoided me?” You said, glaring at him as he turned to you, face slowly contorting from the look of shock to audacity. His eyebrows furrowed as if your words had taken him by surprise. "What do you mean I avoided you? If you had told me-"

You cut him off, anger rising as he pranced around the topic. "You know exactly what I mean, Christopher. You've been avoiding me for days now. When was the last time you even said a small hi to me? You were being childish.”

He winced, obviously unpleased by the usage of his whole name.

“Look, we all mess up baby, and I'm sorry you can’t stop clinging to a mistake i made once-” You groaned, head once again pounding as you stared at his unapologetic face.

“You just don’t get it do you?”

“Excuse me?” Chan shot back, anger flaring up as he shot up out of his chair, smacking his hands on the bed.

“Leave me alone Chan, I don't want to hear it from you now! You never listen to me! Ever!” You snapped, breaking into a wild bout of coughs you’d been holding back. He rose up from his seat, nostrils flaring as he stomped over to the door.

“Fine, i’ll fucking leave you alone, maybe that’ll teach you to be nicer,” he spat, slamming the door shut, leaving you alone with the silence in the room.

It wasn't exactly how you could have envisioned the conversation going.

Eventually, the fatigue caught up with you, and you let your eyes close as you rested against the pillows. The pain in your knee that you thought had faded came back, intensifying with each passing moment and you weren’t sure you’d get a wink of rest after all that.

————��—

It was roughly around the middle of the night when you woke up, head pounding. Your eyes blurred with tears, soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

You shivered under the blankets, disoriented and uncomfortable as you looked around the darkened room. The only light source was the opened curtains, the moon casting a shadow on the floor.

The door to the room opened, a soft golden light flooding in for a moment until it closed, footsteps echoing in your head. The lights beside you turned on, causing you to flinch as the light hurt your head even more.

A warm hand placed itself on your forehead, eventually moving to caress your cheek. Your body shivered involuntarily as another chill passed through you, making you feel even more sensitive to his touch.

“Looks like you have a fever, just when I thought you were getting better baby.”

You tried to turn away, but were quickly grabbed back by Chan, who came into your field of vision as he tried to check you.

“Uh uh, baby, don’t do that to me. Get up, I’m not here to fight you, just wanna care for my sick baby. How’re you gonna get better if you don’t let me in?”

You relaxed, leaning into the warmth of Chan’s hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly as you tried to keep it close to you. His thumb continued to caress your cheek gently, his touch soothing in its own way.

“It hurts,” you whined, throat constricting slightly with how dry it was. You couldn’t remember the last time you drank any water. He lifted your head gently, supporting it with his hand as he brought a glass of water to your lips.

"Here, take small sips," he instructed softly, his gaze fixed on your face as you drank. He adjusted the angle of the glass to make it easier for you, ensuring nothing spilled. After a few sips, he lowered the glass, his fingers brushing against your lips as he pulled it away. "Attagirl, that's better, isn’t it?"

You nodded, leaning against him as he sat down next to you. The slight movement of your knee from its resting place had pain jolting through your leg, causing a slight squeak to come out of your mouth.

Chan's brows furrowed as he noticed your discomfort, reaching out. "Easy there," he said softly, his hand moving to place the pillow next to him under your knee, caressing it lightly. "Don't strain yourself."

You watched him as he moved around, blocking out the sound of plastic rustling by focusing on him.

“Where were you?”

“I was just getting something done on base baby, there's no need to worry. Came here as soon as i was done,” he said, turning around to you with something in hand.

It was a couple tablets, along with another glass of water.

You reeled away slightly as he came closer, hand outstretched to offer you the medication.

Chan seemed to sense your hesitation, his expression softening, "I promise you, these are just pain relievers to help you feel better. They'll make the pain more manageable." Still you drew back, turning your head to the side.

“No. They taste weird. I can’t swallow.”

“C’mon baby, please. Do it for me at least.” Chan cooed, scooting closer till he was in your ear. “I don’t want to,” you coughed, clutching your mouth to avoid allowing your sickness to spread any further.

“Fine,” Chan muttered, turning around, “At least have a cough drop.”

As you turned around to respond, his mouth was on yours, kissing you roughly. You felt his warmth against your lips, a soothing sensation that momentarily made you forget your discomfort. For a moment you melted into it, before you felt something getting shoved into your mouth.

You didn’t even have a chance to spit it out, as Chan placed a hand over your mouth, rubbing your throat lightly to get you to swallow it. The bitter aftertaste seem to rest on your tongue, causing you to actually gag a little as Chan forced you to lie down once more. The gentle touches continued to your head, running fingers through your damp hair, untangling it as best he could with one hand.

“I promise you’ll get better baby. I know it tastes bad but you gotta trust me here, you can sleep once the medicine has taken effect and you’ll feel better.”

You nodded weakly, not having the energy to argue further. His concern was evident, even if his methods were a bit forceful. You closed your eyes, shivering slightly at the cloth he put on your forehead. As you lay there, the room seemed to spin slightly, and you held onto the blankets tightly.

The medication began to take effect, dulling the pain and making you feel drowsy. The room felt cocooned in silence, the soft rustling of the curtains and the occasional murmur of voices from outside the door creating muffled noises.

"Rest now," he whispered, almost a soft man lullaby in the darkness. You let yourself succumb to sleep in his arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you under once again.

——————

The light disturbed your sleep once again, forcing you to lazily open your eyes, looking around on your side. Chan was asleep against the headboard of his bed, mouth open slightly as he snored.

You took the opportunity to trace his arm, running circles in his arms as curled into his warmth. Even in his sleep, Chan's awareness stirred, and his fingers curled around your hand, intercepting your exploration halfway up his arm.

“What are you doing baby?” His voice was a sleepy murmur, laced with a hint of amusement. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, his other hand moving to your forehead, now pleasantly cool to the touch.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as you looked at him. "For taking care of me, even when I’ve caused you so much trouble."

In a moment he seemed to be wide awake, looking at you with such a fragile look you felt you might have cried a little.

“It was never your fault Y/n, I shouldn’t have let it get there,” he murmured, helping you sit up against him.

"I'm sorry," he continued, his gaze unwavering as he hunched down to your level, "for not being there when you needed me. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process."

Tears started to fall even as you were unaware, staring at him as he brought you closer.

“You cry a lot, you know.” And he kissed you.

Your tears mingled with the kiss, a mixture of joy and relief, even as you tried to push him away.

“What? Do you not like my kisses anymore?”

You shook your head as you buried it into the crook of his neck, squeezing him tighter. “Mhh. I don’t wanna get you sick.”

He chuckled, pulling the blanket over both of you as you clung to him.

"You think a little cold would keep me away?" When you didn’t respond, he shook you, getting a little jump from you in response.

“Sorry. I’m just hungry.” You muttered, groaning into his neck. “I’ll order some soup, that sound okay?” Chan offered, rubbing your sides with extra precaution.

“So long as it’s the one I like. That’ll serve as an apology enough.” You yawned, curling up against him once more.

“I missed you Chan.”

“Missed you too baby.”

[stars-obsession-pit]

(Another) Ghost in the Machine

DP x Hellblazer (the original John Constantine comic)

Ritchie Simpson continued to search frantically for the connection out of the computer and back to his body as he begged John to explain what he meant by saying “Goodbye.���

Had John disconnected him? He knew John’s sense of humor wasn’t the lightest, especially after Newcastle drove them all a bit insane, but that felt too far even for him. Nah, he’d probably just gotten himself a bit lost in the wave of energy he’d experienced in the Tongues of Fire network and was accidentally looking for his body in the wrong spot.

He pulled himself back and let his mental connection to the digital world expand outward, probing the rest of the machine for the connection. He knew he was in the right system, so as long as he looked thoroughly he’d definitely fi—

Everything flashed a surge of blinding white and then was replaced by pure darkness. He thought he screamed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. Couldn’t even feel his own thoughts. Trapped in one single instant that stretched for indeterminable eons. Then, eventually (or was it immediately?), awareness began to trickle back.

He was still in the computer, though it felt… different, somehow. His thoughts still weren’t entirely in order. The first possible hints towards his location he found were the sound voices trickling through from the outside world. Voices he didn’t recognize. Young voices.

“I’m happy to help, Tuck, but I’m not really sure what you expect me to do here. You’re way better than me at this computer stuff than me.”

“By all means, feel free to keep complimenting me, but this has been frying my brain, man. I got this thing secondhand, and the system should be quite powerful, but there’s something using up a ton of its processing and I can’t figure out what. I was hoping you could do your ‘enter into the computer’ thing and see if you see anything.”

[whichwaywest]

Gaz x f!reader

TW: Some NSFW below cut

Gaz is a pretty boy. I mean come on! He makes me want to giggle and swing my feet. He deserves to go viral on TikTok, just saying.

MDNI

The first thing to hit your brain when you meet Kyle “Gaz” Garrick is how damn pretty he is.

Like, combat is obviously ugly. The base you work on is mundane at best. So it throws you off to see Gaz at your med bay. He should probably be working in entertainment or something.

And maybe in a past life, he did. Because he’s working pretty hard to make you crack a smile while you work on stitching him up. His smile, by the way, is dazzling. You wouldn’t normally think that about someone, but it’s true. Doesn’t even feel as cheesy as it should.

You begin to notice him around more frequently. You try not to notice yourself searching for him in every room you enter.

Gaz offers you friendly conversation. He speaks with an easy confidence. He’s thoughtful - sometimes pauses for a second before answering when you ask him a question about himself. Chooses his words carefully.

You find yourself relying more on his visits. Especially on the harder days.

He tells you that you make him think of things outside of his work. That he appreciates it. You wonder if he realizes that he’s become one of the brighter spots in your routine.

The first time he kisses you, you’re left breathless. He smiles - definitely dazzling - and tells you how pretty you are. Look who’s talking, you think.

Gaz is just as thoughtful when he fucks you as he is when he speaks. He’s constantly checking on you, asking if it’s good, giving you words of encouragement. Thats it love, you’re doing so well for me. Taking it like a good girl - that feel nice?

Sometimes it seems like he’s holding himself back when he covers your body with his - like he wants to crush you to him, but he treats you like something delicate.

You like the rare occasions that he loses himself a little bit. He’ll grip your hair in his fist and hold you down with his other arm, letting you do nothing but gasp for breath as he bottoms out in you (you’d almost roll your eyes at the fact that of course he’s got a big dick if you weren’t reaping the benefits of said dick).

He swiftly masters reducing you to nothing but moans and incoherent babbling in what must be record time.

He shushes you when he sucks a mark into your neck - tells you no one but him will notice. That it will make him happy to think of you seeing it in the mirror and thinking of him.

It’s like he takes mapping every square inch of your body with his lips as a personal challenge.

He’s especially diligent when he kisses between your legs. Eats you out with such single-minded focus that you’re sometimes left begging for him to give you a minute after he’s pulled yet another orgasm from you.

He’s especially pretty, then. Smiling up at you, his face wet with your arousal. Tells you that he’s sure you can give him one more, please, couldn’t he just try?

When he looks up at you like that, you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to.

[lukabitch]

I say really dumb things when I'm nervous... how would Wesker, Ghostface, Trickster react to a survivor accidentally calling them "Daddy" mid-trial 😭

I’m at a loss of words. Mainly because I would do this. Thank you so much for the request! :)

Tw: Suggestive stuff because the reader is nervous and said something stupid. :(

Wesker:

Oh my dear this man’s god complex is off the charts.

He wants to take you right then and there but he had some amount of self restraint.

He would have his hands all over you after that. He might even tease you a bit with the Uroboros.

He practically makes you call him daddy from then on out. He simply refuses to let you call him anything else.

He’s definitely a lot more flirty anytime he sees you even outside of trials.

He would make you feel things you never thought you could feel.

You messed up and now you’re his cute little boy.

You were running through the swamp in a panic. Wesker was right behind you in hot pursuit. He was starting to lose his patients and brought up the Uroboros. In a second you were being slammed into the rotting wood of a boat. The force of the sudden attack forced a scream out of you. Unlucky for you it was the worse thing you could say. “Daddy!” When the words left your mouth it was shocking to say the least. “I quite like that pretty boy. Say it again.” He kept you pinned and that’s exactly where you would stay.

Ghostface:

Oh? OH! You like that huh?

This man is over the damn moon. He can barely contain himself.

Those words leaving your mouth like that. The fear, the embarrassment, the slight quiver of your lips.

It took all his strength not to pounce on you.

He’s practically begging and demanding that you call him that from then on.

He wants you to pick out a cute pet name for yourself. He even gave you a list he already made!

He eventually gives you the pet name of sweet thing or puppy. He thinks it suits you just fine.

Doing generators was so boring and meticulous. You wanted to just doze off but that would be way too risky. With a killer somewhere you should be paying attention. The feeling of cold shot through your body, it could only mean one thing. Acting quickly you left the generator not even checking where he was. You ran right to him and with a single hit you were on the ground. The shock of the attack scaring you so much your brain went into autopilot. “Ow daddy god damn!” You hadn’t even noticed what you said. Unlucky for you Ghostface did. He lets out a sickening laugh. “Oh sweet thing I didn’t know you were a masochist! I wonder how much you can take.” It was going to be a long trial.

Trickster:

It’s certainly not his favorite name but he’ll take it.

He’ll tease and make fun of you. What can I say he likes humiliating you.

He would have you strung up on a hook and hear you say it again. He restrains himself though.

He throws his knives at certain places to hit you just right.

When he gets his hands on you expect to get a few extra cuts while he begs for you to say his name.

It’s official your his little songbird! You better get used to the pain.

He loves the thrill of chase mainly because he gets to hear their screams. You hadn’t spotted him entering the room and with a small laugh he took aim. The knife pierced your soft skin. The scream that left your mouth wasn’t what he was expecting. “Fuck daddy!” It was obvious that you weren’t think about it. You ran as another flurry of knives hit you at rapid pace. Your beautiful cries sounding heavenly to his ears. “Oh dear baby boy you can’t leave now! Not when I’m just getting started!”

[tmntkiseki]

So this is one thought that has rotated in my brain ever since I watched through the entire 2003 series for the first time, but as much as I love Donatello and consider him my favorite turtle, there is one not-so-tiny thing that bugs me and that's the fact that he does probably go through the least character development of the four turtles despite going through some genuinely terrible shit.

When I think of some of the stuff Donatello goes through during the series, the stuff that makes me think "Good lord, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO MY BOY," the three incidents that stick out the most are the Triceraton Mind Probe from the Space Invaders arc, the entirety of Same As It Never Was, and the Outbreak Saga/Good Genes Arc. The Triceraton Mind Probe scene is one that is physically painful to watch. Don is writhing and screaming the whole time as the probe rapidly picks through his memories trying to find information on Professor Honeycutt's whereabouts, and it's clear that at one point he becomes so scared that he begs for help from his father. Fortunately, his spiritual connection with Splinter allows him overpower the device and short circuit it, but if he hadn't had such a strong bond with him, who knows what would have happened.

Same As It Never Was... what needs to be said at this point? Donatello gets transported to a bad future where the Shredder rules the world, Splinter and Casey are dead, and the turtles have disbanded after their version of Don disappeared 30 years prior. Donatello watches all three of his brothers die protecting him, and at the end of the episode laments the fate of his poor brothers and just how nightmarish the world is before he's warped away. And that's just the tl;dr version.

Good Genes arc, though, oh my god. I feel a major reason why this arc is so good is because it plays on an idea presented on Same As It Never Was--that is, Donatello, with his level head and ability to come up with ingenious solutions to problems the turtles encounter, is what's keeping the team together. As a result of the Outbreak virus, Donatello undergoes a secondary mutation that turns him into a violent, aggressive monster and it's stated because of reactions with the Utrom mutagen already in his blood, his body is breaking down; if he's not cured, he will die. The knowledge that Donatello may perish if nothing is done is bad enough, but even just not having their brother there mentally is enough to mess up the entire team dynamic. In their desperation to save him, they go so far as to make a deal with Bishop, who Leonardo openly compares to the Devil himself, and their actions ultimately lead to the events of the Ninja Tribunal arc the following season. It was the single most dire situation the turtles were in since Exodus, and it wasn't even an entire galaxy at stake; just their beloved brother.

But despite all that, Donatello doesn't actually change much as a result of these events. That's because, more often than not, the stuff that happens to him is more used to fuel his brothers emotional reactions and development than his own. Good Genes is probably the best example of this because even though Donatello is the one physically suffering during the arc, it's Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo who get all the interesting emotional reactions to their present situation; Leonardo finds himself almost completely lost on what to do without Don, and Raphael and Michelangelo, who are absolutely devastated over Don's transformation, spend much of the arc eerily quiet when compared to their usual selves. The only thing we get in terms of Don is the fact that he doesn't remember what happened while he was "sick," and is thus frustrated by how much his brothers end up coddling him in the wake of the incident (which unfortunately isn't all that important since we're about to enter the Ninja Tribunal arc.)

It really is unfortunate that Donatello doesn't go through much development because I otherwise love everything about him. Besides his intelligence, techno savvy, and ability to quickly pick up skills that might be useful to the team (I'm also very biased towards his Bō not due to its strength as a weapon, but it's amount of utility both in and outside combat), I'm absolutely floored by just how nice and gentle he is. He's still got plenty of sass hidden in his shell and can be quite snippy when he's annoyed, but he shows a lot of emotional sensitivity and is very empathetic; this is especially shown in his sibling dynamics with Raphael and Michelangelo, whose relationships tend to be the most...tumultuous? Of the turtles. I don't have a better word for it.

As an aside, I genuinely feel like The King doesn't get enough credit where it's due because yeah, it's a touching tribute to the late Jack Kirby, but it's important as a Donatello-focused episode because it's not focused on his status as the genius inventor of the turtles; instead, we look at his nature as a kind, friendly individual who is very sentimental and doesn't take loss very well. He quickly strikes up a friendship with Kirby, who is one of the few humans not to reject Donatello just because he's a 5'2" mutant turtle, and they end up having a fun adventure in the alternate dimension where all of Kirby's drawings end up disappearing to. Unfortunately, Donatello is unable to pull Kirby back through the portal in time as it's closing; the alternate ending, which is closer to original Mirage issue the episode is based on, really hammered in just how deeply this affected Don, since he absolutely refuses to talk to Raphael and walks off to be by himself, gazing solemnly at the drawing Kirby was able to send through the portal. "Life at best is bittersweet. Take care of yourself."

God damn it, my poor son.