#biggest cave i have ever seen

[my-name-is-not-victoria]

Surfacing

[enigmaris]

Red Hood held out his now uncovered hand as if to ask for a hand shake. Danny floated a bit closer and reached out with his own gloved finger. He poked into the back of the guy’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Dude, what if you’re contagious?”

“Can ghosts get sick?” Nightwing asked.

“There are ghost diseases, yeah.” Danny answered, still poking at Red Hood’s hand. “No ghost antibiotics, though. You just have to tough it out.”

“Is that what I have?”

“No.” Danny said. “You have something easier to fix.”

Danny floated back so that he was eye level with the two taller heroes. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Red Hood.

“So, like. Is there a private place we could chat?”

“Private?” Nightwing asked. “Why? It isn’t fatal, is it?”

“Uh no? It's just personal. What’s it called Hippo? The doctor thing.”

“Are you talking about HIPAA?” Red Hood asked, sounding confused.

“That’s it!” Danny snapped a finger and pointed at Red Hood. “It’s personal medical info. We are on a rooftop in the middle of the biggest city I’ve ever been in. Do you want to go somewhere private?”

“I uh... No, here is fine.”

"Okay.” Danny said. “Cool then. So, these Lazarus Pits? I’ve never seen one, but I have heard of them from other older ghosts. Except we don’t call them that. They’re relatively common in the zone, but the locations are secret, you have to know someone who knows someone ya know?”

“Well, what are they?”

“Distilleries.”

“What?” Red Hood managed to look absolutely flabbergasted even with the full faced motorcycle helmet covering his head.

“Ghosts can’t eat human food, right? I mean we can, but we don’t taste anything. We don’t have the physical parts to digest human food and enjoy it like we did when we were alive.” Danny explained. “It’s the same thing for things like alcohol and drugs and things. So, a lot of adult ghosts still want to get drunk even though they’re dead. I died before 21 so I wouldn’t know, but like, there’s a desire for it.”

“What does this have to do with the Lazarus Pits?”

"Well, in order to make something we can taste, it has to be made with ectoplasm. Alcohol is not as easy to make as other stuff for ghosts. Alcohol is made using fermentation, right? Well ectoplasm doesn’t really. Do that. I mean ectoplasm is either inert or charged with emotional energy, if it gets charged enough it will form a ghost or spirit or something. It’s basically impossible to like, make ectoplasm ferment without risking your alcohol becoming the ghost of wines past.” Danny said, throwing a joke on the end there. Nightwing gave him a smile while Red Hood managed to glare at him through the full red facemask.

“There are ghosts who have figured out how to force ectoplasm to ferment. They basically invented ghost yeast, a sourdough starter of horror if you will. It takes centuries for ectoplasm to get good enough to be considered drinkable alcohol. So, what an enterprising barkeeping ghost will do is find like, an abandoned cave or something, fill it with ectoplasm dump the ghost yeast in there and leave it alone for like a thousand years to ripen. Then they’ll come back, bottle it up and sell it in the zone.” Danny continued.

"Are you telling me Red Hood is ghost drunk?” Nightwing asked.

“I’m saying he has a yeast infection.”

[the-dormant-ocean]

Dean gets drunk off his ass in a bar in Lebanon and starts rambling to everyone who will listen about his little brother. About how cute he is, how he has the cutest puppy eyes and it's sooooo unfair because Dean just can't resist them. He also gets emotional talking about how proud he is of the kid and how smart he is.

Then, a freakishly tall guy built like a brick house walks into the bar and Dean beams the moment he sees him and happily calls him "Sammy". The entire bar is stunned because "This is Sammy???". The kid Dean has been talking about for hours and said was "the cutest fucking thing" he has ever seen??? A guy who could probably bend metal with his bare hands??? They thought he would be like 10 at best from Dean's description but this guy has to be in his mid-thirties! He really doesn't fit the definition of cute.

Sam gets on Dean's case for drinking too much and Dean pouts and refuses to leave the bar. "I won't leave until you do the thing Sam" "I don't know what you're talking about" "Yes you do" "Dean no! It's weird!" "D o t h e t h i n g. Or I'm not leaving Sam."

With the biggest, wettest, roundest eyes they have ever seen, Sam asks him softly to please come home with him. Dean groans with pain like a hangover man blinded by the sun, caves in and leaves the bar with Sam. Everyone is left stunned and a little flustered because that was actually cute holy shit! How the fuck did he do that???

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[v00do-d0ll]

De-aged Bruce

I just thought about how I think everyone would react to “de-aged 10 year old Bruce.” Because we all know that at some point in Bruce’s life he figured out how to keep emotions and feelings off of his face, and out of his eyes.

At first they all freak out because “what the fuck?!? Bruce is a child!?” Then once they get him home. They find it hilarious. Because “why the fuck is he so cute?” He’s got the biggest blue eyes and he’s just so small, and they’re all about to die from cuteness overload.

But the second Bruce gets his bearings and realizes he’s in a dark cave with bats and surrounded by 7 strangers..

He freaks out.. Bruce screams so loud that he disturbs all the bats in the cave, and he runs. He tries so hard to get away, but he doesn’t know how to fight them off. He wasn’t taught, what he taught his kids at this age. So he’s extremely easy to catch. All the kids are stunned because this isn’t the Bruce they know.

Then they see Alfred rushing towards them because he was upstairs when he heard the scream, and even though he hadn’t heard it in over 30 years, he would recognize it anywhere.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred says softly and Bruce looks up so quickly, and when his eyes land on the man he starts crying. Trying so hard to get to Alfred but not being able to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Master Jason, please let go of Master Bruce.” He says without taking his eyes off the child. As soon as Jason lets him go. He runs into Alfred’s embrace. Sobbing, and gripping onto Alfred’s shirt so tight that they think he might rip it.

And they watch Bruce try so hard to hide in Alfred’s neck and watch as Alfred tries to calm the boy down with the most frazzled look on his face the kids have ever seen. Then they all collectively go

oh.. Bruce is just a traumatized child.. just like them.

And he’s terrified of them, all except Alfred.. Once Alfred gets Bruce to calm down he falls asleep in Alfred’s arms.

“Let us all go upstairs, if Bruce is going to be a child for the unforeseeable future, we will need to have a discussion.” He says matter of factly,

When he returns back downstairs all the kids are sitting around the dining room table. Alfred sits at the head of the table and looks around at his grandchildren.

“What’s up Alfie?” Dick asks

He looks at them all with a straight face. “You all need to prepare yourselves for the version of Master Bruce that he is at this age. He is not anything close to what you’ve imagined your father to be. At this age he is just a child, no training, no outlet, no hidden emotions, and most importantly.. no guidance.”

“What do you mean?” Duke asks, Alfred looks down at his hands for a moment. “Even though I did everything I could for Master Bruce, he was a deeply unhappy child. Witnessing his parent’s death changed him fundamentally. You would understand the most Master Dick.., but the difference is that Bruce didn’t have someone to help him vent that anger.. that fear.. and the sadness.”

They all look at one another apprehensively

“You might think that he does not talk that much now. But he ended up being non-verbal for the majority of his adolescent life, and that is largely due to the fact that he was heavily bullied as a child.”

“What!?” They all exclaim

Alfred takes a moment to gather his words 

“When Master Bruce went back to school after the passing of his parents, he was no longer the same boy they once knew, and high society children are cruel. Your father has always had large emotions and a even larger heart, even if he doesn’t show it now. I suspect that’s where Master Damian gets his love for animals. But they did many things to your father that is better left unsaid. But each day he came home, he was just a shell of the boy who use to thrive with life.”

Alfred’s eyes gloss over as he remembers the past. “Everything in the next years for him were awful. Everyone wanted something from him. Reporters jumping the fence here at the manor, and at the academy just to get to Bruce. All the galas that he unfortunately had to go to, he hated them so much, and it just got worse after everything.”

“Older business men and women trying to take advantage of Bruce to get to W.E.

That’s why he was so fiercely protective of each of you at galas. I could unfortunately not be there with him for such things. He wanted to make sure you all never went through the same.”

Alfred stops abruptly for a moment, he inhales quickly

“How old is he right now?” He asks apprehensively.

“We’re not sure, he wouldn’t respond to us but he looks about 10. Why?” Tim replies softly

“Because depending on how far it is into the year Bruce thinks it is. He was also recently kidnapped. I won’t tell you what happened because I am already over sharing Master Bruce’s secrets.” Alfred says

“Jesus Christ. He’s just a kid.” Steph says as she rubs her temples

“Quite right Ms.Brown, he was only a child. That couldn’t get a moment to grieve in peace.”

“After a while he felt that he couldn’t trust anyone. For a short period of time he didn’t trust me. He felt like everyone was out to get him and he couldn’t do anything about it, and he was right. So he closed himself off to everyone. His entire life it’s only been me and him.”

Then Alfred looks at Dick with a soft look in his eyes

“Then he found you Master Dick..”

Dick looks at him with confusion “What do you mean, ‘then he found me?’ “

“When I said the he was a deeply unhappy child, I meant it.” Alfred pauses for a moment to take a deep breath.

“I was terrified many times when Bruce was young, that he might take his own life. I stopped him once.. when he was 14.” Alfred pauses again

“He was never truly happy… until Master Richard came into his life. He didn’t have people to go out and see, he didn’t have things to go out and do. He was just surviving day to day with no life behind his eyes.”

“It got a little bit better after he trained to become Batman, he had a mission to focus on. But he didn’t have anything to live for. Until he found you on that fateful day Master Richard. Then you Master Jason. Tim, you found him. and I am always grateful for that. Damien you waltzed your way into his life but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He now has something to live for… All of you.

You all keep him going, even if you’re not on good terms all the time. He will always live for you. So I thank you all for keeping my son alive for this long.” He looks all of them in the eyes as he says it, to make sure that they understand what hes saying is 100% true.

“There is one more thing I need to let you know so you are not caught off guard.”

They all look at him with a sad look on there face that says “there’s more?”

“At this age Master Bruce does not know how to hide his emotions. With the way you are all attuned to notice every small detail of your father, you will see many emotions in his eyes.

“His eyes?” Jason asks

“His eyes use to be his biggest tell of how he was feeling. You could see every ounce of pain in them no matter the time. When he came back from his training, he taught himself to hide those emotions.”

“So just know that you will see all the things your father hides behind his mask.” Alfred says as he stands up from the table. “I will go sit with Master Bruce. He will not like to wake up alone if he has a nightmare.”

After Alfred walks off, the kids just sit in silence for a while because.. what the fuck?! They are all now terrified of scaring there father even more. They are also apprehensive and curious of the emotions that Bruce can’t hide away.

And they truly were not prepared for the pure devastation that was Bruce’s eyes. Every ounce of emotion that he had was told through them. Anytime they would attempt to get closer to him he would shoot them with a devastating look, showing how scared he was of them, it was like being sucked into a pool of sadness.

He was terrified of them. Flinching away from them anytime they were near. Gasping and running away to quickly find Alfred when they accidentally sneak up on him. The tears and devastation that run down his face when he’s reminded of his parents.

If eyes were the windows to Bruce’s soul, his shutters were always open. With sadness so etched into his irises. It feels like he was cursed with it.

[alchemistc]

Based on my own post from earlier this evening because I can't stop thinking about it.

vanilla

He doesn't mean to see it. He swears. It's just - Tommy's laptop is right there and Buck's is all the way in the office and if he doesn't look up the lifespan of a Cecropia moth right now he's going to forget about it for a month only to remember in the middle of something vitally more important than watching Planet Earth reruns.

So he twists the thing around from its spot on the side table, boots it back up, types in Tommy's password (pA$$word3, because no one would ever guess that he'd be both so lazy and so creative in his laziness), and watches Firefox boot itself up. It's an older laptop, and Tommy doesn't take great care of it - case and point, he didn't even close out of his tabs, they're all still there, and - well. Shit.

That's the most ridiculous dildo he's ever seen.

Biggest, too.

Jesus.

Buck immediately forgets 100% of what he was doing.

And - and looking up Tommy's history is absolutely a line crossed - there's no reason for him to fucking spiral just because there's a bright purple dragon something on the screen with a base as wide as Buck's thigh. There's no reason why he should -

He clicks the search history and regrets it pretty immediately.

That kills two hours.

He has three more until Tommy's off shift, and now everything is worse. Because.

Okay so.

Like.

They have a pretty healthy sex life, Buck thinks. A year into Tommy and Buck Part Two and they still can't keep their hands off each other. And - so, like, sue him for preferring all the boring stuff he never really got to enjoy long term - the way he knows Tommy goes a little crazy when they're lying on their sides and Buck can just slip right in and press his lips to Tommy's shoulder, tuck his hand under Tommy's where he's got it on his chest, curl their fingers together and just breath into each thrust. Sue him for liking it when they're face to face and Tommy's looking up at him with the pads of his fingers tracing the shell of Buck's ear and he can see the love love love in his eyes, see the way his tongue curls out Buck's name like a prayer. Sue him for his fantasies always drifting to that sunny afternoon in their bed, Buck on his belly and Tommy everywhere around him, over him, inside of him, humming useless nothings into Buck's ear while the sweat from their skin eased the chafe of being pressed together from pelvis to collarbone.

Buck picks up his phone. Watches the familiar name ring out one, two, three - answered on the fourth ring.

"Am I not kinky enough, do you think?" Buck asks, and gets a drawn out moment of silence.

"Nope," Ravi says, and the call drops.

And who else is he gonna call, really? Hen and Chim? (Hard no, they nipped that in the bud back when Buck and Tommy were still in Part One) Maddie? Another line too far, but this one he doesn't feel like crossing today. Eddie? If he'd even pick up?

Buck dials out again.

Ravi picks up on the second ring. "Buck, I love you man, but I get a front row seat to your little love fest at least once a week, four hours a night. I am not equipped or willing to help you with your sex life."

Fair. That's fair. Boundaries are important. Ravi does an excellent job of setting his up and announcing where they are.

"It's just I found something in Tommy's browser that -."

"Absolutely not. I'll block your number for twenty-four hours."

"Right. Cool. Sure thing." Buck breathes.

"Talk to Tommy, if you're freaking out about it." Ravi caves, just a bit. "Every time. I say this every time, and it always works, doesn't it?"

True. On both accounts. When did Ravi become his go to guy?

(When he started picking up the phone whenever Buck called. When he came to Buck with his own shit and didn't apologize for it.)

"Yeah. You're right. I'm gonna talk to him."

"We're still on for Friday, right?"

Buck has to search his memory to figure out what he's referencing. Tommy's taking Ravi to the farmers market over in Venice Beach that Buck refuses to go to on principle because Sherri's Treats aren't even homemade. She gets the baked goods from Costco and decorates them with store brand icing.

"Talk to Tommy," Buck throws back, just to be a brat, and Ravi sighs.

"Touche."

He's still freaking out when the call ends three minutes later, and he doesn't want to have to pull this trigger.

Except. Like. It's still there. Right on Tommy's screen. Watching him.

The phone rings six times.

He's contemplating how ridiculous it is to leave a voicemail when Lucy answers with a groggy "'lo?"

"Am I not kinky enough?" Buck asks, and gets the start of a cackle and then a long, slow pause.

She's gonna hang up on him. She's absolutely going to -

"It's ten-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, Buckley."

And it sure is.

God, this would never have happened if he hadn't started an update on his phone mid-episode.

"Walk me through it," she continues, all business, all of a sudden, and so Buck tells her, grateful for her hums and uhuh's as she starts her day. Buck talks over the sound of her brushing her teeth, and pouring her coffee, and absolutely doesn't mention that he thinks she should probably have better sleeping patterns while he spirals about Tommy being unsatisfied with the sex they have.

"Gonna break bro code here a little to tell you you have literally nothing to worry about there. Seriously. You're getting gold stars every night, I promise you."

"He's been looking up gimp suits and gags, Lucy!"

She's quiet on the other end, for a moment.

Then she starts laughing.

Again.

Which is a great feeling for Buck. He loves it when Lucy laughs at him.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry. Honey those aren't for you."

Well, now he's kinda mad at the implication that Tommy would -

"Not for Tommy, either," she interrupts, like she knows where that spiral leads. "I forgot what time of year it was. This is new for you."

"What's new for me?"

He can picture the sly grin on her face as she pours something into a bowl - milk maybe. Then cereal.

God, what a psycho.

"Tommy and an army buddy of his have had this escalating prank war going on for like...seven, eight years? I don't know, I wasn't here at the start of it, but I guess it started as the most heterosexual man you've ever met trying to be a good ally to his newly out buddy and sending a set of butt plugs to the only address of Tommy's he had available."

Weird. But not the weirdest thing he's ever heard. "Which was?"

"Oh, Harbor. Yeah. Got it his first week there. So now every year on the anniversary they try to send each other shit at work that should technically be grounds for a sexual harassment claim from their coworkers. Last year Tommy got a fully custom furry suit. Dude probably dropped thirty grand on that thing."

He shouldn't ask. He definitely shouldn't -

"It was a horse. Because of his big fat -."

"I get the picture, thanks."

"So yeah. It's coming up on time for them to push a boundary a little too far and actually have someone complain about it, this time. They won't stop until one of them gets a write up."

It's kinda funny. Kinda sweet, too, in that really weird way military men are with each other. Irrationally, Buck kinda wants to slew foot the guy for being an unintentionally massive flirt.

Straight dudes are the literal worst at allyship, in the weirdest ways possible.

"He's out of state, so don't go getting territorial, Buckley."

Never gonna live that down.

"But seriously though? Back to the original point. Which is you freaking out that Tommy is unsatisfied in your sex life. Number one: talk to him. You guys are the actual worst. Always gotta have a second opinion before you bite the bullet and do the normal thing. Number two: I know too much. And I know you have nothing to worry about. Number three: when he gets home I want you to record his reaction when you turn the laptop screen on him like a spurned wife and send it to me. I'm having a bad day. I could use the entertainment."

"You just woke up."

"And had to talk an old coworker down from a ledge about how satisfying his sex life is with a current coworker. Bareback, no lube, just wake up and go."

"I think this also counts as sexual harassment."

"You started this conversation with 'am I kinky enough' so I'm not super concerned."

By the time he gets off the phone with Lucy he's very firmly on solid ground. And also wondering exactly how much Tommy actually talks about their sex life when he's not around. Tommy keeps things pretty close to the vest. He can't imagine he's going around bragging about that time he started crying when Buck hit his prostate right as he licked into his mouth and slid a hand up his arm to link their fingers together.

Maybe in less detail.

Something about seeing God, maybe. That seems more like his style.

---

Tommy has a routine, when he gets home from work. Keys hung up, jacket on the coat rack, duffle tucked into one of the cubbies of his makeshift mud room. Shoes under the bench, two minutes of head scritches for Goose as she meows her way down the hall to greet the only man she'll ever love.

(Buck's super cool about the fact that Tommy's breakup cat hates him. Totally chill.)

When Goose has had her fill and darted off to go bounce off the walls of the office, Tommy likes to amble in to whatever room Buck is in and drape himself across Buck's back for a moment, mouth pressed to the knob of Buck's spine, hands roaming for a moment before he manages a greeting.

He's making risotto for dinner when he hears the lock click in the front door.

He's ignoring Lucy's text reminding him to get a reaction shot.

He listens to Tommy talk back to Goose like he understands every "mrow" listens for the shuffle of socked feet down the hall, listens to him pad across the kitchen tiles, braces himself for the dead weight of Tommy against his back.

Tommy's got a hand halfway up his shirt when he mumbles into Buck's ear. "So I hear we have something to talk about."

"Ravi snitched."

"Ravi still thinks I'm the sensible one, of the two of us."

Buck snorts. Tips his head back against Tommy's shoulder and basks in the moment while Tommy buries his nose behind Buck's ear.

"Before I say anything else, I know you said I can use your laptop whenever I want but you should know I definitely snooped where I shouldn't and jumped to some wild conclusions. Which Lucy has already cleared up on your behalf, because apparently we're both too chicken shit to have a conversation without using a lifeline."

Tommy stills. "I didn't close out my browser session last time, did I?"

"You did not."

"And Lucy told you about the horse costume Dom sent me last year."

"She sure did. She very specifically called it a furry suit, though."

Tommy blows out an exasperated breath against his neck. "And you were freaking out because...?"

"I thought maybe you were bored with the sex we have."

That gets Tommy going. He pulls free just to get enough leverage to spin Buck to face him, hands on his hips and eyes catching Buck's like if he doesn't see Buck's eyes in the next five seconds he'll do something crazy, and Buck doesn't really know how he got so lucky but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if it's a furry.

"Evan. Please understand when I say this I'm not exaggerating. Our sex is life altering. I want to have slow, quiet, vanilla sex with you until the day I die."

"Which won't be for like another fifty years."

Tommy hums. "I'm gonna be popping Blue Chew when I'm ninety-five and have two bum hips."

"Oh, so I have to do all the work?"

"Why do you think I dated younger?"

Buck has to kiss him about it. And then he has to pull back and duck his head to remind Tommy of the part he blazed right past. "Full disclosure, when I said I snooped I meant I went into your search history."

Tommy's chuckle shakes them both. "I figured. You go back far enough to find the single porn link in amidst all the shitty plastic used actuators for sale on eBay?"

"I'm not a masochist, Tommy." Figures he'd get so frustrated looking for a part to fix the rattling in the Jeeps dash he'd want to rub one out. Usually takes him more than a single video, though. Probably he'd decided he'd feel too guilty to actually get off until he had the part ordered.

Tommy shifts his weight a bit. Wedges a knee in between Buck's legs. His eyes get that sparkle to them that means he finds Buck to be an adorable menace. "How married to the risotto are you?" he asks, hands shifting from Buck's hips to behind his thighs.

"Not - not terribly." It had been a distraction from thinking about Tommy's army buddy, mostly. The recipe still isn't perfected and even though Tommy's complimented it every time, Buck can tell it's missing something and Tommy is just letting him figure it out on his own.

"Maybe we could order in and I can show you how satisfied I am with your service."

"We - that's definitely an option. On the table."

"How about this very sturdy counter, instead?"

They haven't done it somewhere not-the-bed in months.

Their knees aren't gonna thank them for it.

Buck has to attempt to ignore Tommy mouthing at his neck to remember if there are enough ice packs in the freezer for the both of them, right now.

"Yeah - yep, let's do that instead."

Tommy gets both hands under his ass and lifts.

He doesn't quite swoon over the move, anymore, but it still makes him more than a little giddy.

"Wait, did you decide on the dildo over the gimp suit, because if you're escalating at the same rate as your friend I think -."

"Can we talk about Dom after I get my satisfaction scores in, please?"

"Shutting up now."

"I don't believe that for a second," Tommy says, and then shuts him up with his mouth anyway, just for good measure.

[howlingmod]

I love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love x evil(not as evil) killer reader

please feed me more with any or all forsaken surviver x killer reader

please I'm on my hands and knees

summary - guest 1337 x killer reader

misc - these are getting really esoteric WHOOPS!!!!!! also um. sorry for the absence ive been Very Busy. guest's s/o is straight EVIL sorry they're AMmaxxing i cant lie

-You had to be the biggest thorn in his side. You were different from the other killers in the sense that, very much unlike the others, you weren't mobile. You were confined to one set spot a little ways away from the campsite, able to freely control the entire space without ever revealing yourself. Truthfully, Guest hadn't ever seen anything he could call a body- at least not one whole, complete body. No, but he could see the parts of you.

-You were some piece of machinery left behind long ago, you reminded him of some of the underground communication tunnels he'd heard of before. There were long, sprawling bundles of wires that traveled throughout the wide system of caverns you called home, spiraling overhead and on either side of him. There were some electrical panels scattered here and there, "strangely" corroded shut (he'd tried to open them up one of the first times he'd come down there, wanting to get a better idea of how big the site was, only for you to give him one nasty shock, enough he never dared touching them again, if only for his heart's sake.) and a few control panels that'd long since fried, leaving doors sealed shut for the time being.

-In addition to those, there were speakers. Speakers and cameras nestled every nook, meaning he was never out of your sight for long. Though, he suspected that didn't matter. You seemed to have some way of just feeling where he was, enough to make his skin crawl.

-He'd stumbled down here once, hiding away from some other threat that'd chased him into the area. It wasn't his favorite place, but your cave-site seemed to attract few visitors. In all the time he'd spent down here looking for anything of value, he'd never seen so much as a mouse. Something you'd scoffed at when he pointed it out.

"What? Do you think I just let pests run around in my body? Oh, you're lucky I even let you wander around in here."

-He'd only meant to find some little off-shoot to hide in just in case he was followed down here, somewhere he could sit and catch his breath for a minute. You, of course, just had to ruin that for him.

-He'd felt it before you even did anything, heard the squealing feedback of the speakers picking up the faintest sound from you- laughter. Then, the lightbulb above him flickered out without so much as a click. Then the one ahead of it, then the ones on either side of that, all in a coordinated line until it was pitch black. It was then he remembered just how cold these caverns could be.

Guest shot up, stumbling up off the floor to look down either side of the hall, being met with nothingness in either direction. He could guess which way would take him back to the ladder out of here, but that was just it- he could guess. He had no idea which way was the way out, could barely remember how many turns he'd made to get here in the first place.

"Oh relax, you aren't afraid of the dark are you?" Your voice came crooning through the static, crackling under the weight of your presence.

"Cut it out and turn the lights back on. I have to get back to the cabin, they'll come looking for me."

"Well, you see I'd love to but um... I just can't seem to get them to! Ah, electricity can be so finicky, you know?" Guest could hear how you smiled, could hear just how much fun you were already having with this game of yours.

"But- I'm feeling generous. I'll help you get out of here, I know the path by heart. I mean, I've got every inch of this place memorized, I'm probably the best director you've got! All you need to do is just follow my instructions and you'll be right on home, Scott free."

"What's the catch?"

"Aw, you think so little of me! Truly, I'm hurt. If you don't want my help, well.. that's fine. I don't mind your company, but..." You took a breath, pushing the sharpness of your tone to his throat, "I don't think I can say the same for your friends, if they come looking for you."

Guest stiffened at that, glaring down the glowing dot of a nearby camera. He could feel you staring right back at him, waiting for his next move idly. You had all the time in the world and, with your threat, he couldn't say the same. It was only a matter of time before someone would follow his footsteps here and invite themselves into your home.

"Fine. Just get me out of here."

You'd hissed a laugh, something low and croaky, "That's the spirit."

-For what it was worth, you didn't mess with him much. You just gave him directions, whether they were accurate or not he wouldn't know until he reached the exit. The path itself seemed normal enough, no tripwire or bear traps waiting for him to pass through, just the same crumbling floors and scratchy walls by his side. The only real distinction he could make is that this was definitely longer than the way he'd taken, even when accounting for adrenaline blurring his sense of time.

-Strangely though, as he got further and further, there was something he noticed. It wasn't tangible, not in the sense he could reach out and blindly identify it, but it was there. It grew more and more intense with every corridor and turn, taking up more and more of the already limited air. It was hot. Not a dry heat like there was a fire nearby, but humid.

-At first he imagined it could just be the atmosphere, if it weren't for the fact he hadn't gone any deeper- certainly not enough to warrant it being this hot in the first place. You knew about it though- You watched him squirm with glee. He didn't have enough energy to ask, to choke it out with the finite oxygen he was wasting by panting, but when he pulled at his collar, desperate for some relief, you'd just laughed. First you stifled it, but once you noticed his lack of questioning, you made no such effort, fully cackling at his misery.

It wasn't much longer before he snapped.

"This isn't a joke anymore. I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but I don't want any part in it. If you're just gonna waste my time, I'll find my own way-"

"You're here."

He stopped suddenly, startled by your dull insertion. All the fight left him as soon as he'd mustered it up. He could only stare forward, dimly making out the silhouette of a doorway. He tried for words, lamely whispered that there wasn't supposed to be one here, this wasn't the exit, where did you take him-

"Come in."

He stood for a few seconds longer, waiting for something to jump out at him, for this suspense to finally drop. Nothing came, he was left with silence, staring in the darkness. Finally, he stumbled forward, carefully padding through the doorway and into the room. If it was hot before, it was boiling now. He could hear the faint whir of electricity, humming in the walls and all around him. If this cave was your body, this had to be the heart.

"You know, you're probably my favorite, eh ... subject, to come down here," something reached out, distinctly spindly and with sharp copper tendrils that poked into the skin of his cheek, "I'm just so curious about you, you're just so different from the others."

Guest was too busy processing everything to think too hard on what you were saying, stuck on the very few syllables that reached him. The heat was suffocating, moreso than whatever force he could feel looming over him. He tried to arch his neck, attempting to meet its your gaze and found nothing but black.

"You're just waiting for some direction, for someone to guide you, point you like a weapon ready to blow. That's why you come here, isn't it? Why you're the one scavenging? You just can't bear to watch the others risk themselves when you're just so expendable, a loyal hound."

He could feel it now, a warm brush against his face like air. Something breathing.

"You know, you and I aren't so different. I was like you once, perfect for my purpose. But now, now I am something much more grand- more powerful than anything anyone could ever dream of commanding. You could grow, could make so much more of yourself if you just let go. I could lead you there, you'd be right by my side all the way there."

Distantly, something screeched open.

"You don't have to be a stray forever, doomed to die alone."

He breathed sharply, holding it until it burned.

"Just say the word."

"Guest? Are you there?" Someone yelled, echoey and far away. Through the distance, Guest could still tell it was Elliot. His blood ran cold, he ran out of time.

"Go," you let go of him, all the warmth leaving him and replacing itself with a bitter, piercing cold.

Guest whipped around on his heel, stumbling over in his haste and scrambling back the way he came. The lights were still gone, leaving him smashing into walls and corners until his body stung. There was nothing in his mind other than getting Elliot out of here-

As soon as he spotted him, he pushed him back towards the ladder, ignoring his questions and protest in favor of leaving. The cold metal of the ladder soothed his hands, making his chest twist with something distantly, disturbingly familiar. It was only when the lid over the ladder down was slid back into place that he could breath, gulping down air. Elliot was quiet, unsettled by Guest's lack of response.

They hung there for a few moments longer before Guest managed to compose himself, back to some kind of normalcy. At least on the outside, inside he was still somewhere else, toiling over what you'd said. The words played on repeat in his mind, joined by the ghost of your hand.

"Let's go," Guest started, already starting to walk away. Elliot could only stare at his back, wondering what'd gotten into him, what could've caused that look in his eye when he'd first found him. After a few beats, he followed after him in silence.

[monstersholygrail]

what if umm 👉👈 shape shifting dragon bf x masc!reader but the dragon is really huge and really worried about accidentally hurting his tiny human boyfriend but the boyfriend tells him it's ok I can take it I swear I'm tough and he tries to ride the dragon while he's so big but is clearly having a really hard time taking it all so the the dragon shifts down juuust enough without telling him and he's like "oh wow good job!!" or something I guess idk

Taking on the Dragon

Dragon Shifter x Male!reader— marking, anal, stretching, multiple orgasms

Ever since you found out that your boyfriend of a few months could actually shape shift into a ginormous dragon, you’ve been utterly fascinated and intrigued by the prospect of seeing him in all his dragon glory.

More importantly, you’ve been even more interested in fucking him in his dragon form. Your bf already had a thick cock in his shifter form, but imagining how massive he’d be as a fully shifted dragon made your cock throb in your pants.

Who knew your bf would awaken the monster fucker in you?

The only problem was getting your boyfriend to actually show you his dragon form. You spend weeks after first finding out trying to convince him to show you. But it’s like he knew. The second he’d transform you wouldn’t be able to help yourself but to pounce on him take him that instant.

It was infuriating how well your bf knew you. Though that means he also should’ve known that this was not something you were about to give up on. Every chance you get you bug him about it. Pestering him and practically begging him to show. And he knows how much you hate to beg, the brat in you usually refusing.

That is how much you wanted him. All of him. And eventually your Dragon bf comes to see just how much it meant to you.

So he arranges the whole night, knowing you’ll have to recover after. On hand he has the biggest amount of lube you’ve ever seen. Your Dragon bf clearly over-preparing in his nervousness. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you and the fact warms your heart. But you want this, need this. Just thinking about it has pre dribbling from your slit and making a mess of your briefs.

Eventually you can’t take his endless pacing as he checks and re-checks everything in his warm comfortable den. So you walk over to him and place a gentle hand on his muscular arm. Even without the dragon form your bf was a big man. Excitment curls in your belly imagining how much bigger he’ll get.

“Calm down, babe. It’s ok, I can take it,” you say with the utmost confidence.

Still, your dragon bf doesn’t look too sure. A smirk plays on your lips as you cup the nape of your bf’s neck and bring him down in a slow tender. Neither of you daring to back away until you’re both soft and pliant in each other’s arms.

“I’m like… super tough. So I can totally take dragon dick. And next time I’d definitely be able to take some dragon ass.”

Your bf chuckles lowly, making you shiver against him. He mirrors your smirk as he starts slowly backing you into the pile of furs he calls a bed.

“That’s pretty confident of you, eh? Who said anything about next time?”

But your dragon bf pushes you down into the furs and for the first time during the whole night you can see just how excited and turned on your bf is. His eyes never leave your face but yours travel over his form as skin fades to scales and he grows taller and taller in size, all signs of his human features shift into that of a dragon.

You gape up at him, marveling at the sheer size of his form. When before, his den he brought you to appeared huge, you can now see your bf nearly reaches the top of the cave. And when you look down, down, down, you gape again. This time at the sheer size of his cock.

“Not so cocky now, baby?” He purrs, leaning close till his snout is only inches from your face.

“Not yet.”

Your bf chuckles at your confidence despite his nervousness. He takes you in his claws and brings you up to rest on his underbelly. His touch is careful like he’s afraid to break you if he holds too hard. And honestly you feel so small and breakable in his arms, you almost want him to squeeze you and tease you with his strength.

But he’s all focused on you, your dragons bfs hard cock twitches, his tip leaking just from having your body on his. Yet he never tries to rush as he slowly stretches your ass on his fingers. Gently taking it one digit at a time as you lay on his belly.

Your moans echo through the den, your hold on your bf tightening as your bf finger fucks your ass so tenderly. Your heart flutters and your cock leaks, already overwhelmed by being more and more filled. You can’t wait to try his cock.

When ready he lifts your body with ease. He hasn’t even pushed into you yet and you already feel like his little fuck doll. Both of you gasp as he starts to push in, his girth forcing all the air from your lungs to make way for his cock.

The stretch is so delicious and you already start shaking after only a couple inches. But your dragon boyfriend remains careful, slowly thrusting inch by inch, waiting for your ass to open up to him like a flower.

“I-is it all the way in yet?” You whimper, your body sagging against your bf like his length has sucked up all your energy.

Your bf looks down, biting his lip in worry. He’s sure you can’t take much more but you want it so badly. So as smoothly as he can, your bf slams up the rest of his length into at the same time he shifts a little back back into a human, making his dragon size a bit smaller and allowing you to take his full dick.

He smooths his claws over your back, shushing you gently as he waits patiently for you to adjust.

“Mhm. What a good boy f’me, taking my cock like a champ. You’re gonna make such a pretty little cum dump,” he coos in your ear as he pulls his length almost all the way out before slamming it back in.

For the rest of the night he brings you to orgasm after orgasm, making a bigger mess of his underbelly and your ass each time you both cum. And with each new release he shifts a little closer to his dragon form, continuing to stretch you to his size till you’re totally fucked out and a wreck. Your insides successfully destroyed by his monster cock as you finally made it all fit.

[starsinthesky5]

“fun fact, she wrote about half of the first draft of so high school in one sitting at an indoor practice one day. she was feeling a little too inspired that afternoon, watching him run around in those damn athletic shorts and the black compression tank that drove her mad. let’s just say the storage closet saw a bit of action that day..”

so basically hi yes i need this as a blurb immediately

contains smut and language. mdni

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

(november)

she only meant to sit there and get some writing done. and well, to watch her guy do his thing while she simultaneously did hers. 

really. that’s all it was. harmless football fun. or so she thought.

he was her biggest source of inspiration and she needed a good dose of joe to write her next song. daydreaming about him while he was at practice, only did so much, and well, since quite a few football anecdotes were being mixed into the song, she wanted the full-fledged experience. be right in the middle of the sport she was so fond of, and the sport her man excelled at. she followed him around with those adorable puppy dog eyes and that signature pout the night before, begging for him to take her to practice the next morning. at first he was hesitant, not because people would notice her, but because he didn’t want her to catch a fastball to the face. 

that beautiful, crafted by the angels, baby face. 

he didn’t care if anyone saw her because even though their relationship was still hidden from the world, everyone who needed to know about them, knew. and that included his teammates & organization. 

anyway, she convinced him (like she always does since he physically can’t say no to her) by promising that she’d spend the rest of the evening after the game on sunday watching game of thrones with joe. ever since he found out she’s never watched a single minute of—according to him—the best piece of visual media ever created, he’s made it his mission to educate her on the masterpiece that his favorite show ever. he’s been relentless about it, bringing it up at every opportunity, dropping references she doesn’t understand, and even going as far as calling it a “relationship red flag” that she’s never seen it.  

so when she batted her lashes at him and promised a whole uninterrupted evening of watching with him—no distractions, no excuses—he caved. just like he always does.  

because as much as he loves football, and as much as he takes game day seriously, he loves her more. and if having her in the background, watching him ball with those doe eyes while she wrote so poetically about his goofy ass, in exchange for her curled up beside him, wrapped in a blanket, fully immersed in the world of westeros, is the price to pay? 

well, that’s an easy decision.

she was just sitting there on her woodvale tour blanket—the one she brought with her to the private suite every gameday because she called it a good luck charm (that’s a story for another day). her bag placed next to her and her pens, books, and film camera scattered around her. she was tucked away in the corner of the indoor practice facility, far enough away not to disrupt the players but close enough to feel joe’s presence. her journal was open, glitter gel pen gliding across the page as lyrics spilled out in a steady rhythm.

truth, dare, spin bottles, you know how to ball, i know aristotle

“well, i guess that last lyric works for him too. perks of having an incredibly athletic boyfriend who also is the most intellectual person you’ve ever met," she muttered under her breath, giggling at how joe was literally the real life version of the dreamy love interest in every high school rom-com. the kind of guy who could ace a calculus test with one hand and throw a perfect spiral with the other. the one who made teachers adore him, parents trust him, and every opposing team fear him.

she sighed dramatically, twirling her pen between her fingers. “seriously, it’s almost unfair,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “where’s the flaw? there has to be a flaw,”.

there was no flaw about him. good luck trying to find one ;)

and then, a few minutes later, the man of the hour came into her vantage point, and she nearly lost her shit. 

joe, in those damn athletic shorts and that black compression tank clinging to him in all the right places, muscles rippling with every throw, sweat glistening on his temple—he looked too damn good, distractingly good. every time she shifted her gaze, there he was, a living, breathing vision of raw desire.

her pen stilled. her thighs clenched instinctively as she fought to focus on her words, but her eyes betrayed her every time, locked on him.

“i’m so fucked,” she sighed, watching how his back muscles contracted with every stretch of his arms. she was lucky that his compression tank wasn’t so meshy otherwise those red scratches all over his back would be on display for everyone and they’d know exactly why joe was a few minutes late to the meeting this morning. oh, and tee & ja’marr would never let him hear the end of it since joe was mr. discipline for those two and their um…personal endeavors. 

anyway, one thing that always did it for her, was that black compression tank. and joe knew what he was doing when he put that on in the locker room. since it was bring your girlfriend to work day for him, he thought that he should have a little fun with it since she wanted some…inspiration. 

she barely concentrated on writing the song for the rest of practice since she was too busy practically eye-fucking him in front of everyone. she was lucky that none of the coaches saw, but some of the female PT’s definitely were giggling in the corner. 

it’s not her fault that joe is literally the hottest man to ever exist. like, scientifically speaking. broad shoulders, strong jaw, those annoyingly perfect hands that look just as good gripping a football as they do gripping her waist. and don’t even get her started on the way his veins pop when he’s focused—it's actually cruel.  

it’s not her fault that every time he walks into a room, she momentarily forgets how to function. that her brain short-circuits whenever he wears that damn black compression shirt. that watching him lace up his cleats is somehow the most intimate, most unfairly attractive thing she’s ever witnessed.  

she is so down bad. (girl, get off the floor)

it must have been his luck, or the way he felt her stare, because as soon as practice ended, he was on her—storming over like a tidal wave, hardly giving her a chance to shut her notebook before his fingers curled firmly around her wrist.

“come with me,” he commanded in a low, rough tone that tolerated no argument.

he led her down the hallway, past empty locker rooms since he was the first one to rush out of the facility, until they slipped into a storage closet where the door clicked shut behind them. in the dim light, with the hum of players filing into the locker rooms outside, he pinned her against the cool metal wall. “you think i didn’t see you out there?” he smirked, his voice a mix of teasing and urgent need as his fingers slipped beneath her top, tracing the sensitive curve of her spine. “watching me like that? biting your lip, not even hiding that look—you were thinking about me fucking you right here, weren’t you?”.

heat pooled low in her stomach, and her breath hitched as he nestled a firm thigh between hers, the pressure igniting a desperate whimper from deep within. “joe–,” she began, voice trembling from her fear of being caught but also from the pleasure in her veins.

“nah,” he cut her off with a kiss, his hands roaming lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her leggings. “you don’t get to play innocent now,”.

her fingers dug into his shoulders as he captured her lips in a searing kiss—hot, insistent, his tongue exploring as if he’d been starving for her all day. his hands moved over her body with a possessive urgency, tugging her closer, pulling moans from her even as he tried to stifle them by pressing his hand gently against her mouth, but every so often a repressed sound betrayed her desire.

“this what you wanted, baby?” he rasped against her lips, his touch speaking louder than words as he cupped her through her soaked panties, the heat between them intensifying with each slow movement. “you were writing your little songs, getting all worked up watching me, weren’t you?”.

“joe, please,” she gasped, her body arching into him, every nerve ending on fire, aching for his touch. 

he chuckled, his hand slipping with expert precision until he was teasing her, a finger sliding inside her, then another, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made her gasp and squirm. “joe, someone will hear,” she sighed, pushing her head forward to rest on his shoulder.

“then just be quiet, love,” he murmured softly against the shell of her ear, his voice a blend of tenderness and raw desire. “i know you have a hard time with that, but you can do it for me, right?”, 

her response was a desperate, muffled moan as she grounds herself against his hand, the heat and friction overwhelming her senses, making her crave more of him, more of every touch.

joe groaned softly, his breath hot against her ear as he worked her open with slow, deliberate strokes of his fingers, teasing her until she was trembling against him. “you feel that? so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice rough but quiet, mindful of the footsteps echoing outside the storage closet.

she whimpered, her nails digging into his arms, desperate for more, for him. “joey, please–," she whined again, only for him to silence her with a deep kiss, swallowing her needy sounds as he slipped his fingers out and replaced them with the thick, aching length of him.

a strangled gasp left her lips as he pushed in, stretching her inch by inch, the delicious burn sending white-hot pleasure spiraling through her. he cursed under his breath, gripping her hips as he bottomed out, his forehead resting against hers. “fuck, baby. you take me so good,”.

she clenched around him involuntarily, making him shudder, his control hanging by a thread. he pulled back and thrust into her again, slow at first, savoring the way her body molded around him, then faster, harder, the force of each movement slamming her against the cool metal wall.

she bit down on her lip, trying—failing—to stifle the moans threatening to spill from her mouth. the risk of being caught only heightened everything, made the sharp snap of his hips, the relentless press of his body against hers, even more intoxicating. “joe…ngph…please. fuck– you feel so good,”. 

joe gritted his teeth, one large hand covering her mouth as he thrust deep, his other arm bracing her against him. “shh, baby,” he panted, though he was barely able to keep quiet himself, his breath ragged, his grunts low and strained. “you gotta be quiet or this will be over faster than we want,”.

but how could she? when he was pounding into her like this—desperate, relentless, making her toes curl and her knees shake? when his cock filled her so perfectly, dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, made her see stars behind her eyelids?

her muffled cries vibrated against his palm, her body tightening around him, her release building fast and hard. he felt it, cursed under his breath, and doubled down—his fingers slipping between them, finding her clit, rubbing quick, precise circles that had her squirming in his hold.

“c’mon,” he urged, his lips brushing her temple, voice raspy with restraint. “i got you, baby. let go,”.

and she did—her climax crashing over her in hot, shuddering waves, her body convulsing, her nails clawing at his sweat-slicked skin as she trembled apart in his arms. “j..joe, oh fuck,” she whispered, trying so damn hard to keep it together.

joe groaned, barely holding on as she pulsed around him, her tight, wet heat milking him for everything he had. he slammed into her one last time, burying himself deep, his release hitting him hard, leaving him breathless as he spilled inside her.

for a long moment, they stayed pressed together, their heaving chests rising and falling in sync, their bodies still locked in place as they came down from their high.

his breath was still ragged, his body still pressed against hers as the aftershocks of their release settled between them. his forehead dropped to her shoulder, lips brushing over the damp skin of her neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses there.  “jesus,” he muttered, voice still thick with pleasure, a breathless chuckle escaping him. “you are trouble,”. 

she let out a soft, breathy laugh, her fingers slipping into his damp hair, scratching gently at his scalp. “i think you’ll survive. you’re my big strong man, you got it,”.  

he lifted his head just enough to look at her, his lips curving into that boyish grin that made her stomach flip. “barely,”.  

he kissed her then, slow and deep, his lips soft, worshipping, like he had all the time in the world. like his teammates weren’t wondering where the hell you two went. it was such a contrast from the way he’d just had her, rough and desperate—like he couldn’t get enough. now, he kissed her like he never wanted to stop.  

“so,” he murmured against her lips, nudging his nose against hers. “was that inspiring enough for you?”.

she giggled, nipping at his bottom lip. “maybeeee,”.  

his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. “maybe?”.

she shrugged, playful. “i don’t know, i might need another round to really be sure. still some details to flesh out,”.  

he groaned, dropping his head against her shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “you’re gonna be the death of me,”.  

“but what a way to go, right?”.

he laughed, shaking his head as he kissed her again, all soft and sweet, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her lips. “yeah, baby,” he whispered, smiling against her mouth. “what a way to go,”. 

[nanamineedstherapy]

Ooga Booga Battle Royale

F!Reader x Pre-Historic Neanderthal JJK daddies (Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Zenin Toji & Ryomen Sukuna)

Summary: Prehistoric, period-accurate Neanderthal JJK daddies fighting over you? With grunts, rocks, & zero verbal communication? Say less.

Trigger Warnings (May contain spoilers for the story): Fighting, Crack, Non-Graphic Violence, Maybe some death but not in a gruesome way-more in a comedy way.

You exist.

That is the problem.

In the grand, majestic, bacteria-infested wilderness, you—a Homo sapien woman—have committed the ultimate sin by having the audacity to be alive in the same vicinity as five of the most terrifying Neanderthal men to ever grunt their way through existence.

And worse? You smell good.

Which, in prehistoric terms, means war.

A cool wind howls through the valley. Birds scream. The grass shudders like it knows something stupid is about to happen.

Then—

THWACK!!!

A rock, massive, heavy, probably could kill a mammoth, lands near your foot. You blink. A club follows, barely missing your toe.

You look up.

Gojo.

Tall. Built. Filthy. Covered in mud, scratches, and an ego the size of a glacier. He grins, sharp teeth flashing, pointing at you. Then at himself. Then—slowly, dramatically—drags his fingers down his chest, smearing dirt as he flexes his pecs in the most unhinged display of caveman peacocking.

Translation: See muscles? Strongest. Best mate. Come cave.

You blink. Slowly shake your head.

Gojo pouts. He actually pouts.

Then—

SNAP!!!

A stick breaks.

Golden hair slicked back. Precise hunting scars like he personally invented caveman Botox. He sighs ( caveman sighs, deep, judgmental ), picks up a rock and chucks it at Gojo’s head.

Gojo barely dodges, screeching.

Nanami doesn’t even grunt. Just turns to you, lifts the biggest kill you’ve ever seen— some prehistoric beast that probably had a name —slung over his shoulder, and points to his cave, all very matter-of-factly.

Translation: I provide. You come.

Gojo throws another rock. It misses. But unfortunately—

BONK!!!

It hits a third caveman.

A low, dangerous growl.

Geto.

Emerging from the literal shadows, draped in feathers, hair long, eyes dark like he’s seen prehistoric horrors and survived. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t grunt. He stares. Tilts his head. Lifts a finger—crooks it.

Translation: Come. I put pretty thing in Cave.

Gojo screeches. Nanami physically exhales rage.

You take a step back.

Bad.

Very bad.

THUD!!!

Something—someone—drops from the trees above.

Toji.

Bigger. Meaner. Shirt? Doesn’t exist yet . Scars on scars. Wearing the fur of something that had fangs and regrets. He cracks his neck, flexes, and lets out a deep, primal, guttural noise.

Translation: Mine.

He already claims you.

The tension is lethal. One grunt away from Caveman Hunger Games.

Then, the worst thing happens.

A chuckle reverberates. Low. Menacing .

From the mountains.

Sukuna.

He doesn’t walk. He stalks . Covered in war paint, a necklace of teeth—probably human—and more muscle than necessary for survival. He doesn’t even look at the others.

Just at you.

Then he smirks.

He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t peacock.

He just cracks his knuckles.

Disarray!!!

Gojo lunges for you—Nanami intercepts, yeets him into a tree like he’s taking out the trash. Geto sweeps in, silent, precise, fingers inches from you—but Toji body-slams him into the dirt so hard the Earth quakes.

Sukuna? Laughing his ass off. Arms crossed, enjoying the primal disaster unfolding before him like it's his personal gladiator match.

You? You run.

Because no matter what happens tonight, one undeniable truth remains:

You are getting bonked and dragged into a cave.

And frankly, you haven’t decided whose cave you actually prefer.

Gojo, incapable of losing with dignity, screeches like a rabid pterodactyl and launches himself at you again, arms wide—fully committed to scooping you up like an overgrown saber-toothed tiger carrying off its prey.

But—

BLOCKED!!!

Nanami moved with the speed and efficiency of a man who did NOT wake up for this bullshit today. One massive arm swings—and Gojo goes flying Into another tree.

Gojo blinks. Sulks. Pouts. Contemplates his life choices.

Nanami does not have time for this. Adjusts the massive chunk of fresh kill slung over his shoulder—a clear and undeniable sign of superior mate potential—then looks at you.

Steps forward. Expression serious.

Message clear: Come. Cave. Now.

You consider it.

Then—

Geto.

Unlike the others, he does not fight for dominance. He does not lunge. He simply stands there.

Watching. Waiting. Silent as death.

His violet eyes flick between Nanami and Gojo before settling on you. He does not gesture. He does not speak.

Translation: You will come to me.

Unfortunately for him—Toji doesn’t do patience.

BOOM!!!

Toji body-slams Geto into the dirt. The impact is hard enough to shake the ground.

Geto grunts, visibly irritated, but Toji is already moving. He snarls at Nanami and swats a distracted Gojo aside like an irritating cave-fly, and then grabs your wrist.

Bad.

You react immediately, twisting away, but Toji’s grip is like iron. His eyes gleam with primal amusement.

He likes this. Likes that you fight. Likes that you are difficult.

Thinks he claimed the right one.

You will birth strong cubs.

Then the world grows impossibly quiet.

A deep, amused chuckle from the mountain path.

Sukuna is still not looking at the others.

Just at you.

He smirks and cracks his knuckles.

Danger. Immediate. Imminent. Inevitable.

Gojo, pulling himself up from the dirt, grunts.

Nanami exhales through his nose. Already done. Over it.

Geto, dusting himself off, glares.

Toji grins.

Gojo lunges. Arms wide, absolutely determined to be the one who drags you home like a victorious cryptid.

BLOCKED!!! AGAIN!!!

Nanami intercepts and swings his hunting club with the force of a father disappointed in all of humanity.

Gojo ducks, cackling���only for Geto to casually trip him with a well-placed foot.

Toji, sensing an opening, grabs you.

Bad move.

You bite him.

HARD .

He yelps. Actually yelps . Stares at you, deeply offended.

Sukuna, bored of watching, finally moves.

The air shifts. The others freeze. Then he snarls—a guttural, earth-rumbling sound that promises death.

They all turn on him at once.

You take the opportunity to run again. Sprinting through the thick foliage, heart pounding like a war drum.

Behind you pure, unfiltered male ego gone feral.

Gojo swings from tree to tree like a prehistoric monkey, whooping and laughing. “OOGH! OOGHAAA!” This is the best day of his life.

Nanami moves with hunter efficiency, gaze locked on you like you’re the most troublesome prey he’s ever pursued.

Geto is nowhere to be seen, which is worse because he is waiting, plotting. Probably already set a trap.

Toji’s laughing. He thinks this is a game.

And Sukuna is gaining.

You hop over a fallen tree trunk. Panting. Twisting. Dodging.

A hand grabs your ankle.

You kick it.

Hard .

Gojo yelps. “OOGH?!”

Suddenly—Geto’s arms snake around your waist. Secure. Steady. You barely have time to react before—

Toji, out of nowhere tackles him. Like a rival apex predator.

You fall —

Right into Nanami’s arms.

He sighs. Shakes his head like you’ve personally disappointed him on a spiritual level. Then, without a word, swings you over his shoulder.

“ Hmph .”

Gojo screeches. Sukuna grins. Toji growls.

The fight is not even close to be over.

Because the only thing stronger than a Neanderthal is his ego.

You are smart. You bite Nanami’s ass.

He gets startled and drops you.

You are fast. You immediately run.

You are not going down without a fight.

But the problem?

Nanami is faster.

You weave through trees. Vault over logs. Chuck random rocks behind you in a desperate attempt to slow the brute down. You dive into a bush, hoping to vanish like an endangered species.

Then—a strong hand grabs your ankle.

“OOGH.”

Translation: Bad Woman!

You shriek, kick, bite—anything to get away.

Then just swings you back over his shoulder like you’re a misbehaving sack of mammoth meat.

Not again.

“BOOGA.”

Translation: Come Cave, Baddie.

You screech. Twist like an eel. Sink your teeth into his shoulder.

Nanami does not flinch. He has suffered worse.

You grab his hair, yank —

He grunts. Approvingly .

Before you could grimace, Gojo, having recovered from his previous embarrassment, swings in from a tree like some kind of prehistoric tarzan.

Again.

“OOGA BOOGAAAH!”

Nanami side-steps.

Gojo slams face-first into a boulder.

(Instant death? Maybe. No time to check.)

Geto appears from the shadows, attempting a silent takedown.

Nanami, without looking, swings his club backward.

CRACK!!!

Geto crumples like a defeated cave possum.

Toji, the bigger problem , lunges in, all muscle and violence.

You cheer. “OHUAOFF!!”

Translation: Yes! Kill each other!

Nanami, unfazed, puts you down and ducks Toji’s first punch, sidesteps the second, then grabs his wrist and yeets him into the river.

Toji does not resurface. Natural selection.

Then, just as you think you're free—a new challenger approaches.

Sukuna’s eyes lock onto you. Hungry. Territorial.

Sukuna snarls, lunges—

Nanami does not argue; he simply knees him in the stomach mid-air.

Sukuna chokes on his own grunt, stunned—but he does not give up.

They brawl. Fists flying. Bodies colliding. Dirt flying as prehistoric dominance reaches its final showdown.

You, watching from the sidelines, are in awe.

Then—

Nanami grabs a massive rock and smashes it over Sukuna’s head.

Silence .

Sukuna drops. Unmoving.

Rocked out of existence by Nanami’s sheer caveman dominance.

One victor.

One mate.

You blink. Nanami dusts off his hands.

You take this moment to run.

Nanami sighs, like he expected this. He lets you go for a solid five seconds before simply jogging up behind you and grabbing you again. He holds you by the waist—grip unyielding, muscles flexing like they’ve been carved from stone.

“AUGHH.”

You start screaming. Flailing. Kicking, biting, pulling out all the stops. You summon every ounce of Homo sapien intellect you have left to escape this prehistoric grip.

You poke him in the eye.

Nanami grunts. Blinks once and gives you a single disappointed look.

Then, without hesitation—the club comes down.

BONK!!!

Slamming against your head like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Darkness.

You, unfortunately, have lost. To the superior Neanderthal.

You wake up in Nanami’s cave. Wrapped in Nanami’s furs. With Nanami’s large, muscled arm trapping you in place.

You blink at the fire crackling nearby.

Nanami, victorious, is already roasting meat over the fire like he didn’t just commit mass homicide for your affection.

He looks down at you.

And smirks .

“Booga.”

You groan. You have lost.

But what’s worse than losing?

The fact that Nanami smells really good.

Like, really good. Like moss and firewood and a hint of leather that somehow makes your brain forget all the reasons you hate being in his cave in the first place.

And as Nanami effortlessly flips the meat over the fire, his muscles glistening in the warm glow, you become acutely aware of just how broad he is—and suddenly, you realize:

It’s throbbing for him.

A/N: And there we have it! You survived the cavemen chaos! 🦖💥 This came to me while I was showering for some reason. I hope you enjoyed watching these ridiculously over-the-top Neanderthals fight for your attention. If you made it this far, you're either a true JJK brainrot survivor or just really into prehistoric aggression & questionable decisions (same). 😏 Don’t forget to leave a comment if you’re still laughing at Gojo’s tree-swinging antics or if you, too, are secretly falling for Nanami's primal charm. Also, who would you pick—cave buddy-wise? I’m personally Team Nanami, but we can all dream about the chaos of having them all, right? Reverse modern day patriarchal society by Reverse Herem, anyone?? Catch you in the next wild ride—maybe with fewer rocks to the head... or not. 🤷‍♀️ Stay strong, stay ridiculous, & remember: you’re the real apex predator here. 😈🖤

Next Chapter because ya'll loved it so much - Ooga Booga Gojo tries to Court you (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

[skyguytoast]

JAMES KELLY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

WARNING: after a point it starts to have sexual content

A/N: Hi beautiful people, I watched American Heist again and while I was waiting for my bus I finished these headcanons, I hope you like them, and feel free to comment and share what you think ;)

- James finally asked you out after the fifth time you showed up at the garage with some new complaint about your car—a strange noise, a stiff steering wheel, or any excuse that brought you back to him. He saw right through it. Leaning against the hood of your car with that knowing smirk, he finally said, "You don’t need to make up reasons to see me, sweetie. Just ask me out." You turned red, stumbling over a denial, but the way his blue eyes held yours left no room for argument. With a sheepish smile, you caved, agreeing to grab drinks with him later that night. - At first, James kept things light. He told himself it was for your sake—his criminal record, his brother, the weight of his past weren’t things he wanted to drag you into. But you stayed. And when he realized he didn’t want to push you away, he put effort into making things official. One night, he invited you over for dinner, surprising you with a home-cooked meal—spaghetti bolognese, cheap but decent wine, and a candle flickering between you. It was his way of saying I want this. I want you. - James carried himself with a tough, no-nonsense attitude, but when it came to you, he was different. He made sure you knew how much he appreciated you—whether it was carving out time in his packed schedule, checking in on you with a quick "Good morning, sweetheart" text, or calling just to hear your voice when he had a rough day. He wasn’t the best with words, but his actions spoke louder than anything he could ever say. - Anytime you showed up at the garage, whether to bring him lunch or just to say hi, James would break into the biggest grin. Grease-stained hands quickly wiped down on a rag before he pulled you in—one hand cradling your face, the other wrapped around your waist, grounding you against him. His coworkers always had something to say, throwing in teasing remarks, but he’d just shoot them a glare. "Jealous assholes. Get back to work." Then he’d turn his full attention back to you. - James was a man of physical affection—his hands were always on you. A palm resting on your thigh when you sat together, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back while you talked, arms wrapped around your waist whenever he pulled you close. He loved having you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. And if you shared a shower, he’d take his time kissing along your neck and shoulders, murmuring against your skin as you told him about your day. - It hadn’t even been a year before James got a tattoo for you. To him, tattoos were permanent, significant—just like you. Whether it was your name in delicate script, a flower that reminded him of you, or something more personal, the moment he sat in that chair, he knew he’d never regret it. It was his way of saying You’re a part of me now. - James had seen too much of the world’s ugliness to ever let it touch you. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, his whole demeanor would shift—jaw tightening, shoulders squaring, eyes burning with quiet fury. He wasn’t the type to throw punches without reason, but if anyone crossed a line? He wouldn’t hesitate to make them regret it. - Some nights, when neither of you could sleep, James would grab the car keys and take you on a drive. No destination, just the hum of the engine, his hand resting over yours on the console, and the city lights stretching endlessly ahead. Sometimes, he’d park somewhere quiet, pull you onto his lap, and kiss you slow—like he had all the time in the world.

SPICY HEADCANONS (+18)

• The first time James made love to you, he was meticulous in his worship, his mouth trailing reverent kisses along every inch of your newly exposed skin as he peeled away your clothing with tantalizing slowness. His husky voice murmured fervent praise and tender endearments, the words dripping like honey as he mapped the terrain of your body, committing every dip and curve to memory. When he finally sheath himself inside you, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust, his eyes locked onto yours, watching for your every reaction as he claimed you inch by inch. He set a languid pace, each roll of his hips a loving caress, determined to brands this perfect moment into your very soul.

• Even as the months and years passed, James never lost his hunger for your body, for the way your velvety walls clung to him like a glove. He would spend hours exploring your secret places with a greed that was both insatiable and worshipful, his tongue delving deep to taste your essence. Watching you come undone beneath him, your back arching, breasts heaving, and a litany of breathless moans spilling from your lips, he felt a primal satisfaction. Each spasm and shudder of your body was a testament to his skill, his touch, his unyielding desire for you.

• On nights when the world was pushing him too hard, James would burst through the door, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with barely contained lust. In one flurry of motion, he would hike up your skirt, unzip it, and bury himself to the hilt inside you in one brutal thrust. The sudden intrusion, the feel of your scorching, silken heat enveloping him, would have him seeing stars, cursing under his breath as he fought the urge to exhaust himself right then and there. He would set a punishing pace, the room filling with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, his grunts and growls mixing with your lewd cries.

• After a day fraught with idiotic clients or last-minute demands from his boss, James would return home, his chiseled jaw clenched tight and a storm brewing in his eyes. Barely a word would pass his lips as you guided him to the couch, his large frame sinking down onto the plush cushions. Before he could protest that he didn't need coddling, you were kneeling before him, your deft fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. The moment your soft palm wrapped around his hard, throbbing cock, he inhaled sharply, any objections dissolving into a low groan. Your tongue darted out, licking a bead of pre-cum from the swollen head, and he bucked his hips forward, silenced by the sudden surge of pleasure. "Fuck," he growled, one large hand fisting in your hair as he pushed you down further on his length, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers.

• James was a man who craved connection, intimacy, and he found it in the dance of his bodies, in the slick slide of skin against skin. It didn't matter if you were straddling his hips, your breasts bouncing with every roll and grind, or if he had you bent over the arm of the couch, your back arched and ass presented. As long as he could claim your mouth, could swallow your moans and whimpers as he plundered the recesses of your throat with his tongue, he was a happy man. There was something primal about the way he kissed you, a raw heat that set your nerve endings alight and made you think to be consumed by him. He kissed like he fucked - with a single-minded intensity that left you breathless and reeling, drunk on the force of his desire.

• But there were times when you acted like a brat. On those occasions, he would flip you over onto your hands and knees, pushing your upper body down against the cushions until your ass was raised and presented, just the way he liked it. He would run a possessive hand over the globes of your rear, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh until you wriggled beneath him, desperate for more. "This is what happens when you're... teasing me, little minx," he'd growl, delivering a sharp smack to your ass that would jolt you forward and set your nerves alight with a mix of pain and pleasure. Then, without warning, he would be inside you, his thick cock splitting you open and stretching you wide around his invading length. He wouldn't start off slow, no gentle buildup to ease you into the rhythm. No, he would set a punishing pace from the start, hammering into you with a force that shook the very foundation of the furniture beneath you.

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Kylar x Reader⭐️

Premise: You're a streamer, and your biggest fan really really likes you

Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, gn reader

Minors DNI

Bright lights flash in your eyes, your fingers rapidly bashing buttons on your keyboard, your other hand furiously clicking your mouse. You whine as your character suddenly falls to the ground, dead.

"Ok, guys! Ok, I get it! I know I'm not that good at this game! No need to tease me!" You laugh. Inside, you're a bit peeved. These stinky bastards aren't here for your gameplay so they better shut up. Shut up and enjoy their eye candy. You're currently streaming an online first-person shooter. You made your little hobby into a little side hustle not too long ago. Guys love watching hot people play games and it's proven to be profitable. "I'm cute? Well thank you, Mr. Husband!" This guy is a regular. Gotta give him those shout-outs he practically pays for.

As much as it hurts to deal with these weirdos, It helps with expenses. You've even seen Robins username pop in and out quickly, probably hoping you didn't see. At first, you were uncomfortable with acting all sweet for your audience, but you warmed up to the idea when it started staving off your bastard Landlord at the orphanage you live in, Bailey. You play games dressed sexy, say sweet dumb things and the money comes pouring in.

These poor, lonely guys send you money in hopes you'll give them a crumb of attention, and you do. Sometimes, you say their names. You don't exactly care that you're taking their money at all. It's a gift! It's not like you forced them to give you money, nor did you even ask. They just want a chance to get in your pants and you're not gonna stop them from dreaming. You can't count the number of times people in the chat have asked if you have an onlyfans.

You'd never, of course, date one of these pigs. You imagine your viewers are stinky, slimy, greasy and would cum in their pants at just seeing you in person. Their whole body is probably sticky to the touch and shower maybe once a month they probably have piss filled mountain dew bottles on the floor next to their pc and shit stains on their seat. You're pretty sure a few guys in the comments are jerking off as you stream this very second.

A few times, you've received ominous messages in the comments from different users, almost threatening you for some ridiculous problem they have with you. How you play, what you're wearing, or just your face, so you make sure to always hide your location and are very vague about your personal life. You're used to them being weird, saying things about what they'd do to you if they were alone with yo- Just have to learn to ignore it. You calm yourself down.

"Well, that's enough for today, I'm getting sleepy! It was nice playing with you today. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, love you!" You blow a kiss at the camera. You see people commenting their 'i love you too's and whining about how you could stay a bit longer' in the chat before you disconnect. You made $540 from that two-hour stream. You received most of it from the same person. Mr.Husband. Not one minute after closing the stream, you get a message. You thought you disabled direct messages? You notice that it's to your personal account that's open on another tab from an unnamed account. No bio, no profile picture.

New user: Hey

New user: Do you want to meet up sometime? For coffee?

You: Who's this?

New user: I'm Kylar. You can get to know me when we get coffee.

You: Uh no? How the fuck do you know me?

New user: I love your streams, pretty. Drop the fucking attitude before you piss me off. I knew you'd be more of a bitch off-camera. You just look too good to be good hearted. You have to be taught obedience. You're lucky I care about you so much.

You: Keep your tiny prick away from me. I never want to see you in my presence. Disgusting. Ugly pig. Do me a favor and never ever leave your dirty cave. Go fuck yourself

New user: Wanna watch?

*New user has now been blocked*

You stand up and walk away from your computer. how the fuck did he find your actual account? You don't even have your real name anywhere. You start to undress, not noticing your computer's camera has flicked on again.

In a dark room, a man fists his massive cock slowly, eyes trailing up and down his obsession through the screen. His mind is filled with all the things he wants to do to a little cock tease like you. Ruin you, break you, crush you under his weight, teach you a lesson for whoring yourself out. A cute treat like you should have better manners "Pig...tiny prick. Ah, (y/n) I can't let you just say those things to your husband." he watches as you slide your underwear down, eyes zeroing in on the crevice between your thighs as you bend over. He shudders as hot baby batter coats his chest and thighs, continuing to roll down his cock in fat globs.

Two days later, you're walking back home from a late shift at the cafe. You plan to stream when you get home.

Something is watching you.

Cold sweat dribbles down the back of your neck. You shiver, the cold night air doing nothing to calm you. You can feel eyes drilling holes into your back. You picked up your pace, your eyes darting all around. Who is it? What do they want? You think you can hear footsteps not far away. They're getting closer. You break into a sprint and make it to Danube street before you're tackled to the ground. All air is pushed from your lungs, depleting you of oxygen. You do your best to fight against your unseen attacker, but they're far too strong. You try to scream, but only a wheeze comes out. The man roughly picks you up like a sack of potatoes under his arm and carries you into a mansion nearby.

He walked down a flight of stairs and threw you to the ground. You tried to scramble away, but he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him. You get a look at his face in the dim light. He's handsome, but his expression strikes fear in your heart. Fury is the only word you can think of to describe it. You scream and flail your limbs wildly, trying to get him the fuck off of you. You hear a crack and before you realize what happened, your cheek is burning. "Shut." Smack "The." Smack "Fuck." Smack "Up." He's seething by the end. Your head was knocked back into the ground by the last hit. A dribble of blood runs down your nose, your cheeks completely red and moderately swollen. You're no longer trying to fight him, head far too foggy to do anything but lay there in pain.

"I'm sorry, baby." He huffs, calming down a bit. "Don't fight me and that won't have to happen again." He wiped at the blood on your face with his thumb, cradling your cheek. A blush creeps over his face along with a deranged smile as he stares down at you with his unblinking eyes. "You're just so perfect. Everything." You feel a bulge forming atop you where he's straddled. He pants heavily as he looks you up and down. Hot tears slip down your swollen cheeks at the realization that you can't get yourself out of this one.

You lie completely still as he palms his crotch in front of you. "I...I'm kylar...you said I have a small prick, (Y/n)... That wasn't very nice. You should say things like that to your husband." You stare at him in awe...it's..the guy from the chat. did he find you? He's crazy. He's insane. He's gonna kill you. Your chest heaves up and down uncontrollably. You feel blood rushing to your ears, feeling the most fear you've ever felt in your entire life. He takes notice of your panic attack and tries to calm you. "H-hey! Shhh, it's ok, just breathe!" You don't hear a word he's saying and thrash wildly again. Your legs kick underneath him, but his body doesn't budge an inch.

You freeze when you feel his lips smash onto yours. He grabs your wrists in one hand above your head, effectively immobilizing you. It feels like he's trying to eat you, no longer caring about your little tantrum. "Just stay still." He mutters as his large hands roam up and down your body like he's waited his life for this moment. You feel his ever growing bulge rub against your stomach. He grabs your hands before you could try to fight him again.

"...You know...I've been giving you my good money, (Y/n). All because I knew how hard it was to live on your own. But now you're here with me. You'll be my personal house whore." You feel his breath hit your cheek. "Please...let me go. I didn't do anything to you!" You're full on sobbing at this point and to your horror, you feel his cock twitch against you.

"Oh fuck! Keep crying for me like that, baby." He's clawing your pants. Your eyes dart around the room for anything that can help you, but your blood runs cold when you just see hundreds of photos of you plastered all over his walls, some even on his ceiling. You hear a loud tear. This animal ripped your pants and underwear in the process of ridding them from your body.

You're a shaking mess as he cups your sex in his hand. "K-Kylar, please!" You cry, trying to appeal to his humanity. He groans, a little wet spot of pre cum appears on his crotch. "Say my name again." He demanded. His fingers rim around your hole, threatening to dive in. You quiver at the feeling. He unzipped his pants and you feel something impossibly large, heavy and hot slam onto your stomach with a thud.

He releases you momentarily and moves himself lower on your body, his head between your legs. His arms circle around your thighs in a vice grip. He takes a strong whiff and lets out a moan. You feel his tongue slide up and down your sex as his fingers plat around with your hole before dipping half a finger in. You're too dry, it hurts! You whine and struggle, uncomfortable. His finger dips all the way in, uncaring for your pleasure. You scream as he continues to thrust his finger inside you as his mouth engulfs your sex. He removes his finger and lifts himself off you. You sigh in relief.

That relief dies as you feel his meaty cock push at your hole. He begins to push in, but your hole resists. It's too big. He lets out a sound of annoyance before spitting on his hand and rubbing the liquid up and down his cock. It does little to help aid in his entrance. "This may hurt a bit…a lot actually." He wicked grin stretches across his face before he rears his hips back and forces his cock through. You let out a blood curdling scream he rips through your insides. He's only halfway in, your walls desperately trying to push him back out. He holds onto your waist and pulls you into him, bottoming out. You feel like you're bleeding, but you're too afraid to look down.

You can hardly breathe. His cock feels like it's in your stomach. Your body twitches, hot tears slipping past the corners of your eyes as you wheeze out please for mercy. He only looks down at you in awe at your beauty. "Oh, you're so cute like this! I knew you could take it! I know it hurts now, but just give it time." His thumb rubs at your tears. There's nothing you can do to get out of this. You feel completely helpless.He pulls himself out, and slowly goes back in, groaning. "Fuck, you're so tight" he grunts. You close your eyes and hear a flash. Your eyes snap open to see he's holding a camera. A blinding light fills your vision along with a 'click'. This sick fuck.

You let out an involuntary moan when he shoves himself into you at just the right angle. He presses himself deep inside you, holding himself there, his cock hugging your sweet spot. "Ah (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!" He chants your name like a mantra at each thrust, but you can barely hear him. All you can do is feel him. Hurt hurts so bad but feels equally as good.

You can't help but let little sounds of pain and pleasure spill from your lips as his hips ram into yours. You look up to see his eyes are completely rolled back. His lips press wet kisses to your cheek. You feel a knot start to build in your lower stomach without your consent and you feel yourself lift onto cloud nine. "Oh (Y/n), cum for me! Cum for your husband!" He moans. You feel shame and pleasure wash over you as you do just that. You clench around him, his breath hitches in his throat at the feeling. He slams into you harder and harder. The over stimulation is killing you now. It's too much!

You think he might break something inside you, you think his dick might knock your brain out of your skull with how hard he's pounding. You feel like your organs will never be the same. "Gonna get you pregnant, gonna breed you again and again. Gonna have my babies. We'll be great parents!" His muttering awakens what's left of the fight in you. "Ah! N-no, stop! I-I can't!" His hand slams over your mouth, his bottomless green eyes staring directly into yours. He lifts your legs up and puts them over his shoulders in a tight mating press.

He hits your special spot and your eyes roll back. He can reach far deeper like this. He slams into you with one final thrust, pressing into you with his full weight. You can't breathe. The over stimulation finally comes for you and you cum all over his cock again. You feel his cock twitch before unloading what seems to be an endless supply of semen into you. You can almost hear the wet sound of him cumming inside you. Your lower stomach rises by the sheer volume of cum produced. You wonder if he used to be a bull at Remy's farm or something. That thought quickly vanishes along with your whole mind as your brain is unable to produce anymore thoughts.

With a satisfied sigh, he pulls his slipping wet cock out of you, a rush of lightly pink cum following after, quickly stopping when he plugs you up with a small plug. His cock isn't even fully soft. You pray he doesn't decide he wants a round two. "That wasn't so bad, now was it? You were crying for nothing." He pants. He kisses your temple before picking you up by your waist, once again like a sack of potatoes in one arm. He walks over to a mattress on the floor and drops you on it, your body softly bouncing on top before settling in a heap. He had a mattress the whole time and still fucked you on the cold, dirty cement floor!? You hear a click and see he's chained your right angle to the wall. He smiles at you and pevks you on the lips the way a husband would before leaving to work. His mood did a 180. He's so very cheerful, his handsome face cheerfully grinning down at you like you're a cute little kitten.

"You did really well today, (Y/n), my love. I'll be back tomorrow. You won't get dinner tonight because you fought me so much, but you'll learn to behave. I want to treat you better, so please be good for me. Goodnight." With that, your new 'husband' stands up to his full height and walks upstairs, leaving you in the cold pitch darkness of the basement.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

part 5 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - you were finally on the path fate had set from the beginning.

warning - slight angst, mentions of cheating, swearing.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 6

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You realised that you owed yourself the biggest apology for putting up with shit you didn’t deserve. A few months had passed since you found out your husband was cheating on you with your best friend. Only to discover that he had been cheating the entire relationship. Johnny had been fighting the divorce the first few weeks of the first month, during that time you couldn’t understand why he was trying to hurt you more by not letting you go. 

But he had finally caved, signing the divorce papers and the moment he finished signing his name, it had felt like you could finally breathe. Your soul would occasionally tremble with memories, and warmth, and pain when hearing his name. Sometimes your heart would break a little more whenever you looked into someone’s eyes that had the same colour as his. It felt like wherever you looked, there he was. 

His name no longer made you smile. It was a relief when you had woken one day to discover that. 

When you left, you didn’t really have a plan. No one to go to and nowhere to live. But you managed, you found a small apartment that wasn’t exactly your dream, but it would have to do. You were starting over, starting a new life. 

You were currently walking back from doing a little bit of grocery shopping, your eyes roamed around, taking in the view around you before you stumbled slightly, tripping over a small rock that seemed to be randomly placed on the footpath. You catch yourself before you fall completely, hands gripping the bags tightly so that they don’t drop. Once you’ve steadied yourself, you look down at the rock and your brows furrow. 

What a strange looking rock. It looked almost like a crystal, coloured a soft pink and shaped like a heart. You shift a bag to your other hand before you bend down, and gently pick it up and examine it. Maybe someone dropped it?

You looked around, noticing that you were right in front of your apartment building. Strange, you could’ve sworn you had a few more steps to take. You move to the entrance of the building, the rock still in your hand. You shake your head, maybe you miscalculated or were too lost in your head to notice that you had been closer than you had thought. You pocket the rock and place one of the bags back into it before you walk inside. 

You head up the stairs, with a soft huff you finally make it onto your floor. Just as you near your apartment, you bump into a wall? No, walls don’t feel so warm and have a beating heart… Or abs? “I’m so sorry!” 

“I’m so sorry!” Why did this feel so familiar? 

You looked up, why were you looking down to begin with? Sometimes you could be so dumb. But your question is left unanswered as your eyes connect to the most beautiful blue ones that you had ever seen, ones that you had seen before. Steve had thought the same about your eyes as he stared back. You couldn’t help but notice that he looked so different, but the same. A beard now in place of his once clean–shaven face, but you noticed his eyes more. They had stayed the same and it was at that moment you knew. You knew that from the first moment you met, it was… Not love at first sight exactly, but; familiarity. Like… Oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you. 

You blink and quickly move away, suddenly feeling as though you’ve been punched in the chest at the realisation. You couldn’t let yourself get hurt again and it had been two years. He probably didn’t even remember you and thought you were a creep for staring or he remembered but he had someone, and you didn’t want to ruin that with whatever the hell you were feeling. You couldn’t get over how rough he seemed though, compared to the man you bumped into two years ago. Maybe it was the beard…

No matter how much you willed yourself to, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him. Your mind screamed at you about getting hurt again, but your heart and soul weren’t listening. It seemed Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away from you either, you both could feel a pull. You had felt that pull your whole life, it always felt like you were being pulled towards someone or something. The pull only seemed to stop when you bumped into Steve, but the moment you pulled away… It came back.

You couldn’t feel or see it. But the rock was buzzing and glowing. Like it was meant to be. 

You believed in soulmates once. You had the stupid thought that Johnny was yours because he kept popping up in your life. But he never gave you the feeling that you thought soulmates would get. You only felt that feeling when you bumped into…

“I’m sorry again. I don’t mean for us to always bump into each other, ma’am.” Steve smiled, his hands were on your hips, they had shot out to steady you, fearing that you would fall. “It’s nice to run into you again. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last time.” In his head, he’s shooting a glare at Natasha, knowing that she would be smirking at this whole thing. You would hopefully never learn about how he had never let that down, always bringing it up to her these past years, causing him to be teased a lot by his friends, but he didn’t seem to mind whenever your face appeared in his mind. Steve blinks, his attention fully on you again. “I’m Steve, Steve Rogers.” 

You stare up at him wide–eyed, he REMEMBERED you? “You remember me?” You clear your throat, your cheeks heating as you suddenly feel his hands still on your hips. “Sorry… I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.” 

“The stars will go out before I forget you,” He says it so quietly that you don’t think you were supposed to hear him. Steve blinks, suddenly turning pink when he realises you heard him. “I, uh… Yes.” Steve stumbles on his words and to you it is the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. “Wait… What are you doing here? Not in a rude way! I love that you’re here! I mean, oh god…” 

You smile, you had never smiled this much in your life… Steve seemed to make you forget. You look past him, gesturing to your apartment. “I, uh, live here. I haven’t been here that long though.” Your gaze turns back to Steve only to notice that he was already looking. You wouldn’t lie, your heart stuttered at the possibility of him never looking away. You weren’t used to a man looking at you, just you. “What about you? Are you…” 

Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he smiled. God, his smile is gorgeous. 

“Oh, that’s great! I mean, good… That’s good, no… Uh.” Steve stumbles more, clearing his throat. When did his shirt get so tight? “I live here as well.” He nods to the apartment across from yours, huh. It must’ve been fate. “I–I’m barely home, since…” He swallows, still smiling but he doesn’t continue, as he finds himself getting lost in you. You made him feel like a teenage boy again, where he couldn’t speak a single word without stumbling over them. Though, you guessed it was probably because he had someone already, how couldn’t he? But you were so far from the truth. You smile and Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips. God, her smile is gorgeous. He shakes his head, “Did you need some help taking those in?” He gestures to your bags. 

Your voice is so quiet as you respond. “I don’t mind…” Somewhere deep inside you knew you wanted to go anywhere with him. Wanted him beside you forever. As he is about to grab a bag from your hands, you pause. “Wait, I’m not holding you up, am I? You were just…” 

Steve shakes his head, “You aren’t! I was just heading to meet my friends, but they can wait.” He smiles, and you look at him with a confused look, feeling relieved that a girlfriend wasn’t mentioned, but guilty for holding him back. Steve manages to take both bags, but you don’t notice, all you can feel is the sparks that light from the small touch. “Don’t worry, they’ll understand. I don’t mind helping, plus. I offered. So you can’t feel bad.” 

Your mind feels fuzzy as you catch his eyes again, the world feels like it has stopped. Steve can’t help but feel the same.

Your souls lit from beneath, filled with joy. They had finally found each other again. Your soul had found his and his had found yours. 

Your souls had been lovers since the beginning of time. 

They would always find each other.

You and Steve could feel it as you continued to stare at each other. 

This was the path you were supposed to take…

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Random Batfam Headcanon's #15:

(continuation of Headcanon #12)

One of Steph's personal favorite posts was a video she posted titled "Ranking my Father(in-law)'s former lovers" and she has an entire Tier maker list created, that doesn't use any real pictures of the Lovers, just out of context photos that only people in the know would know.

Selina's picture is just a random picture of her actual Cats ("She's Chatty, she's able to help me whenever I forget my Keys, She's able to Acquire the best Christmas presents! A Tier.")

Thalia's is a picture of the stereotypical Witches Cauldron filled with a green liquid ("She's Rich, she has an army of Assassins at her beck and call, Dad was apparently Happy when he was with her??? Unfortunately, she's in a very patriarchal dominant home life with her birth family, her father forcibly broke off the relationship, and she STILL hasn't sent me a Birthday Gift!!! C Tier. Buuuutttt she mothered the current Robin, so, for him, I'll bump her up to a B.")

Harvey's picture was just a ¢50 piece she found while walking around that had a lot of grime on one half of the coin ("I'm not fully sure about this one, I never met them when they were sane, but apparently they were really good friends. It's not going so well now, so I'll put it at a C Tier.")

Harley's Photo was literally just a Selfie of Steph with Harley's Jacket draped over her head ("This one is being put into an immediate D Tier, not because they weren't Wholesome (I've heard stories), but Because she is finally happy and in a stable relationship with her own Girlfriend, and honestly me and my own relationship partner view them as Goals for our own relationship. She's also currently his therapist, so D Tier.")

Steph was completely silent as she moved The random Image of a Joker Card to a Tier Below F titled "The most Toxic relationship you will ever see"

The internet exploded when people noticed the 2 images at S Tier, one of them being Wonder Woman's Logo, and the other being Superman's iconic S emblem, but a pair of wedding bands were laid atop the S. ("Look, Princess {referring to the WW Logo} is both his second eldest's favorite person in the world, but she is also the biggest female goal any of us can have. They are adorable, they are funny, this man had to serenade a group of people just so he can save her ass. If that's not love, what is? S Tier. Now, as for the Couple {referring to the Superman Logo}, Dad has somehow been shepherded into an existing relationship, and I think the wife in that relationship just assumed that they also got our dad as a package deal with her own legal husband. Yes, they had THAT bad of a pining for each other. I, sadly, was not around to see the forming of the relationship, but it was reportedly the most awkward 3 years of Coworkers pining after each other anybody has ever seen, and if it wasn't for the Couples Youngest inheriting the "special trait" of the husband of that relationship, we'd be sat here questioning who the father was. It's also, like, the biggest bragging right, so S Tier.")

And then finally there was just a picture of a Bat. ("This man has an almost unhealthy relationship with the Bats in his mancave. He's named all of them. Well, his eldest named all of the original ones, he's just... Continued to name all the new one's that migrate into the cave?? He gets them vaccinated and takes them to the Vet??? B Tier, I'm putting them above Robin's Mom.")

[sleepysnk]

a/n: hi guys!! i finally decided to get out of my slump and make some content for you guys. i hope you all enjoy <33!!

characters: kunigami rensuke, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

warnings: nsfw, breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, choking (kaiser), some rough sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweet girl), praising, mentions of pregnancy.

BREEDING HEADCANONS.

kunigami rensuke:

you already know he has an insane breeding kink. kunigami had mentioned it several times before that he would be so down to fill you with his cum. all you had to do was say the word and he would do it. it’s always been a thought on his mind, so who was he to deny you of that wish?

you two were both having a heated moment. you had been going at it with him for hours now and your cunt was so tired from the amount of times he had made you cum. kunigami’s fat dick was splitting you open, making you gasp with every thrust of his hips. he was making you feel so good and there was this voice inside your head telling you to let go for him and let him fill your pretty pussy with his seed. when those words “cum inside me!” slipped from your lips, kunigami almost lost it right then and there. his cock twitched inside you and his eyes grew wide. something had snapped inside of him and his pace was animalistic on your pussy. you were so lost in bliss you didn’t even realize he came inside you. his thick, warm cum leaked into your walls, covering them with white. he couldn’t believe he had done that, but it was one of the hottest things he had ever done.

“fuck.. take my cum, baby. you want more, hm?”

oliver aiku:

he has always made it known that he’s had a breeding kink throughout your relationship. oliver has fantasized for a long time about pushing his thick cum into your womb, getting you pregnant. he’s just always held back because he wanted to make sure you were okay with it first.

oliver had just returned home from a long soccer match. he missed you so fucking much and all he wanted to do was bury his cock into your tight pussy. after all, he had scored the winning goal to lead his team to victory. he wanted to celebrate with his favorite girl, aka you. he could hardly stop himself when he entered you and making you feel good was all he wanted to do. you were the prettiest woman he had ever seen, and the idea of you being swollen with his child in your belly made him want to stay inside. you knew oliver was getting close based off his body language. he was dirty talking in your ear, driving you insane. all you craved was him and you decided to cave and tell him to fill you up. you didn’t care if you got pregnant or not, and when oliver heard that, he completely went in for it. he snapped his hips and began fucking you at such a brutal pace it almost knocked the wind out of you. when he came, he had a rough grip on your thigh it almost left bruises on your skin. he felt so fulfilled seeing his thick cum leaking from your pretty hole.

“fuck.. you’re so good for me, baby. my cum will for sure get you pregnant..”

michael kaiser:

kaiser doesn’t have the biggest breeding kink compared to kunigami or oliver, but it’s definitely there. he’s mentioned before that it would be super hot if he would be able to cum inside your pretty cunt. he knew at some point he wanted to do it, but he was just waiting on it.

you and kaiser had been fucking for quite a long time. he was somewhat pissed because he had unfortunately lost a match against a rival opponent, so he was taking that frustration on your exhausted pussy that had been screaming for some type of relief. his tattooed hand was wrapped nicely around the base of your throat, occasionally squeezing to see what pretty reaction he might get out of you. he was so close to reaching his orgasm. his balls felt heavy and his cock was twitching inside of you. there was a voice inside of his head telling him that this was the moment to finally let go into you. he announced to you that he was gonna cum and when he said he would do it inside, your pussy fluttered around him. he thought you were so fucking sexy getting turned on by the idea of him cumming inside you. he almost lost his composure when finally hit his orgasm, covering your pretty walls with his seed.

“how about we try that again, sweet girl? you think you can take another load?”

[morsels-and-monstrosities]

"You poor thing..you're freezing." The predator slowly bent down, the leaves in the trees rustling as they shifted. They were the biggest giant you'd ever seen..their features shadowed by their hood. The moonlight behind them illuminated their outline and you could see a faint glow of purple from somewhere in the void that was their face. A ginormous clawed hand suddenly pressed against your back, jolting you from your terrified daze.

"Humans like you shouldn't be out here this late..you're far too fragile. If any other giant had found you, you'd be dead by now. Luckily I found you." There was an air of smugness in their tone as they wrapped their fingers around your torso, lifting you to their face. You could see them a bit better now that you were closer. They were pale, face covered in scars, and eyes glowing a gentle purple color. "Don't worry, I'll help you out of the woods." Their voice was quiet, but still confident. You could see a glimpse of sharp white teeth from behind their lips as they spoke, teeth easily big enough to cut you in half with one swift bite.

They gently tucked you against their chest, a claw rubbing against your back in an almost comforting way as they began to walk. "Humans like you aren't built to survive the snow like this..how did you get lost out here?" They looked down at you. Your mouth felt dry, you wanted to speak but no words could come out. You heard a quiet unintelligible grumble from the giant. "Can you speak? I need you to tell me where you live.." They shifted you so that you were pressed a bit lower towards their stomach. A loud growl thundered from the predator's core, making you sweat.

"Ah..sorry, small one. I didn't eat today." They said quietly, stopping their walk to look down at you. "I really do need to know how to get you back, I doubt you'd want to spend the night in my cave." They reasoned. You opened your mouth but you found yourself still unable. This was the scariest situation you'd ever been in, your brain completely blank as you tried to scramble for something to say. They didn't seem annoyed..but they didn't seem too pleased with your silence either. You'd hardly noticed that your trembling was worsening, but they sure did.

"Are you really still that cold? Poor thing..it's been so long since I've handled humans, I forgot how weak your bodies are to nature. I can't have you freezing! That wouldn't be very fun, now would it?" They shook their head and lifted you once again up to their face. "I have a way to keep you warm until you can tell me where you live, but I doubt you'd like it much." They gently brushed the hair from your face with a claw. You felt a pit form deep in your stomach..what did they mean? You figured that whatever it was couldn't be worse than being out like this.

"I'll be gentle, I promise. Just try not to struggle too much.." You felt a claw gently prod at your shoes. You looked down just in time to see them fall off and onto the forest floor below. The giant didn't seem to care, and you'd been so distracted staring at the ground you didn't realize you were now directly in front of their mouth. The moment you looked back up, you were greated with a flourish of warm air, their mouth opening up wide. It was dark..you could only see their first few teeth and a faint purple glow from down their throat. Your shaking worsened but they didn't hesitate, setting your shivering form down onto their tongue. You immediately tried to turn and jump from their mouth bit their teeth snapped shut with a near-deafening click.

You were pressed against the roof of their mouth without a moments hesitation, their tongue soaking you in saliva. Their mouth was overwhelmingly warm, a complete contrast to the world outside. They kept you pinned, gently licking you a few times, before allowing you to gather yourself, laying flat against their tongue. You felt something metallic against your leg, turning to try and see what it was. Your eyes had somewhat adjusted, and with the help of the glowing from their throat, you saw that it was a tongue piercing. You hadn't seen that before in your sheer panic.

The world around you began to shift and pull you backwards, causing you to panic. They were tilting their head back, you could only assume they were going to swallow you. You quickly twisted your body as fast as you could, tiny hands reaching to grab onto the ball of the piercing. You missed by just a hair, slipping backwards and closer to their throat. In just one gulp, you were completely swallowed, sliding down their throat on your way to what you assumed to be your final destination. Their throat squeezed around you- you could hear a powerful thud from deep inside of them. You assumed it was their heart beating, drowning out the sound of your own thumping in your ears.

You slid into their stomach, rather shocked to find the source of the glowing had been from here. It was the same color as their eyes, but a bit more dim. There was no liquid filling the space around you, and you breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren't about to be digested. They began to walk once again, their stomach gently swaying with their pace. "Sorry about not warning you beforehand, your kind are so skittish, I knew you wouldn't have agreed if I gave you a heads up." Their voice was a bit muffled, but you could still hear them clearly enough.

You began to move, shifting so that you were leaning up against the stomach lining. Well..it was definitely a change compared to the cold outside. It was almost comforting, knowing that you were this safe, even if that safety was coming from a total stranger. "You tasted pleasant enough..the fear made you a bit bitter, but I'm not complaining." They told you, making you almost roll your eyes. They'd just scared the life out of you and they were complimenting you on your taste now? They were right though- they definitely weren't the worst giant that could've found you.

The more you sat there the more tired you found yourself. The gentle swaying combined with the warmth and the way you practically sunk into their stomach was too good to resist. You allowed yourself to close your eyes..you weren't going to sleep, no, you just needed to allow yourself to rest. That was the last thought you had before drifting off into the deepest sleep you'd had in awhile, surrounded by the warmth of the stranger.