#he's not manic guys i swear

[ruuggs]

Joel smallishbeans Hermitcraft intros

This is why im here to watch hermitcraft for the Joel smallishbeans bean hermitcraft intros

where else could i watch such a creative and interesting and amazing and fun hermitcraft intro

[summerroseart]

Happy late birthday to my girl ✨️

[momo-de-avis]

Just so you know LGBTQ catholics organised a mass and fanatics interrupted it, marched into this church hoisting crucifixes, and began chanting "heal the gay away" type of prayers.

This group had initially planned to hold mass in another church that had to me changed because they got so many threats.

You're all hypocrites. I spent an entire day listening to shitheads chanting about finding love in the arms of Jesus and loving your brother and sister and yall take this event to spread hate and threaten. A trans person is not provoking shit, you're just a little pissbaby who's so easily insulted by someone's existence you're seething at the mouth until you control everyone's lives. How insignificant life is for you people that you have to spread hate and make people miserable because they're doing the same thing you are, worshiping god in a respectful and venerable way, but they're different. Fuck you oversensitive little cunts.

[rheebydeeby]

.

[nomsfaultau]

Dark sbi where Tommy accidentally kidnaps Philza, not knowing he’s a crime lord. And he swears it was an accident! He just, you know, panicked. Tommy and Tubbo were just minding their own business slapping graffiti on a building (practicing their art skills, you see) when a cop started screeching at them, apparently not an appreciator of the fine arts. And since Mrs. Innit would KILL him if he got arrested, Tommy panics and takes a hostage, shouting at the cop not to take a step further or he’ll kill the random civilian he’s ducked behind so he can’t get shot.

Meanwhile Philza isn’t entirely paying attention, and realizes there’s suddenly a small child sheltering behind him from a cop. He gives the cop the nastiest look imaginable, which causes them to back off enough that Tommy thinks his plan is working. Once the negotiations start Philza is baffled by who would have the gall to kidnap him, and so poorly at that. Frankly it’s an umbrage to face the work of an amateur.

Well, till the abductor asks his name. “…do you not know who I am.?”

Tommy squints at the guy. His suit looks kinda fancy? Is it better or worse for him if he managed to randomly capture some Wall Street schmuck? “Hell no,” he hisses. “And I don’t care. I’m a dangerous guy alright? You don’t know what I’ll do to you.”

Philza’s laugh causes the cop to advance, wagering the situation isn’t intense. But because Tubbo’s ‘Yes And’ game is a force to be reckoned with, he casually pulls out a nerf gun (painted to look real for a prank on Ranboo) and trains it on the cop. Philza is positively delighted as he realizes just how amateur his abductors are. Oh this will be a riot to watch.

With more bluffing than Tommy knew he had in him, promising the hostage 20 bucks if he pretended to go along with it, the pure manic chaos bleeding from Tubbo’s eyes and ample gun waving, and creative use of spray paint in the eyes of the chasing cops, Tommy and Tubbo somehow manage to book it. For some reason the hostage keeps up with them instead of escaping. Huh. Can you develop Stockholm syndrome that fast? Tommy would ask, but he’s panting from sprinting. And as they live in an unjust world, hostage guy isn’t even breaking a sweat despite the three piece suit.

“You’re not going to get far on foot,” Philza murmurs. As corrupt and useless as the cops are for most things in this city, he doesn’t imagine there’d actually be that much fuss over a random man being kidnapped, but he wonders what they’ll do if spooked a little more. It’s been amusing thus far. The boys bicker, then elect to force him to drive as neither have licenses. They don’t ask him to drive to their homes, instead some secondary location. Smart, albeit Philza will definitely know both addresses within the hour.

While Tommy is busy ‘threatening’ Philza about the consequences of not getting them there, Tubbo just leans over from a bag of chips he’s munching on and offers them to Phil. Tommy rounds on him, less for showing exploitable kindness to the hostage and more for eating the Doritos that were meant to be his. Philza almost chides them for revealing each other’s names, but decides it might just be easier to hand them notes at the end of this. So far they aren’t getting a passing grade in abduction. But he has to admit it’s far more entertaining than the ‘business’ meeting he was planning to attend.

(Techno, meanwhile, hasn’t heard from Philza and is going BALLISTIC trying to figure out who kidnapped him. From the police report Phil just kinda went along with it, and looked terrified after a private exchange with the abductor, which has to mean the threat is ungodly to convince the Angel of Death to submit. Techno’s about to have a panic attack imagining the unthinkable horrors happening to his best friend, and is only holding it off by doing atrocities about it. This is the THIRD secret criminal organization he’s ripped apart in the last two hours and PHILZA ISNT HERE EITHER!?)

Philza has decided he likes his kidnappers. They’re not experienced in the slightest, but they make up for it with bravado, determination, and a certain lack of rationality that is necessary in the line of business Philza is in. Yes. They’ll do nicely if given a little guidance.

It’s half an hour before either of them notice Philza is driving aimlessly and they don’t recognize the city around them at all. “Hm? Next time I don’t recommend you give the hostage control of the vehicle. I could have immediately driven to the police station.”

Tommy frowns, almost more nervous at the implication the obvious blackmail would go unused. “…why didn’t you?”

“There’s no love lost between the cops and I. And even more importantly, you amuse me. I like your…potential.” He grins at the soft click of Tommy covertly trying the handle and finding the car doors locked. “Getting out at this speed is almost always fatal, Tommy.”

Tubbo lifts the muzzle of the fake gun towards him. “Let us go right. now.”

Philza leans over, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. The teen gulps at the glimpse of the holster Philza’s jacket was hiding, sharing a wide eyed look with Tommy. “I’m not exactly scared of foam bullets, mate.” He chuckles lowly at the tension freezing both of them. “Relax. You’ll be home by dinner. After you went through all the effort of kidnapping me to avoid trouble with your parents, I don’t intend to ruin it. I like you two; you have spunk I don’t see often. After all, it takes a lot of guts to kidnap the leader of the Syndicate.”

[sunnebeam]

"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)

Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.

After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.

An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.

"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.

Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.

"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"

The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.

"Shit!"

The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.

"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.

"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.

"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"

And you're out the door.

Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."

Holly barks.

"Huh? What was that?"

Holly barks.

Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.

"She forgot her lunchbox?"

Holly barks.

"Fuck."

Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.

He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.

But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.

"What's your occupation, sir?"

The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.

"Househusband."

They stare at him.

"What?"

Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.

"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."

They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.

"...Agust D?"

No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!

They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.

"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"

"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.

A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.

The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.

"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."

And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[princessbrunette]

toxicex!jj who sees a guy talking to at a party and then walks over talking about some; “ oh yeah dude her face is pretty i know. i remembering cumming on this thing for the first time “

- 🌟

✉️୨ৎ🐻‍❄��ྀིྀི⋆⭒˚｡🤍

for like ten minutes of you talking to this guy you have to ignore jj’s eyes on you. you feel a little bad, because whilst you could tell he’s pissed, he also just looked sad.

his friends are trying to engage with him, trying to gain his attention and drag him into conversation but they may aswell be talking to a brick wall— all of his attention devoted to staring this guy down.

he downs his drink, deciding enough is enough and swaggers over — plastering on that same jj confidence that everyone knows and loves, clearly a masquerade for the deep insecurity and rage he was harbouring in that moment.

“hey, howdy there. uh, who’s your friend? introduce me.” jj grins, but it’s clearly malicious and you shrink a little— averting your eyes from the confused guy infront of you.

“hey… man. you know him?” the guy you were previously flirting with juts his thumb to jj, the blonde clenching his jaw at the gesture. you open your mouth to answer but the blonde speaks for you.

“oh yeah, yeah i know this beauty inside out. emphasis on uh… emphasis on the inside, dude.” jj stares him down, squinting his eyes a little at the gesture.

“right.” the guy responds awkwardly, clearing his throat.

“jj was just leaving.” you speak up, desperately trying to ease the tension and he smirks, throwing you a look.

“you kiddin’? i’m just gettin’ to know your new friend here, you were totally hittin’ on her right?”

“uh—”

“yeah, yeah nah i don’t blame you. don’t blame you at all man, real pretty face. yeah. remember cummin’ all over it like it was last week. wait a second, oh that’s crazy — it was last week!” his manic grin remains, but now he’s turned his attention on you, closing in on you to look down at you. you shove at his chest, huffing and the guy excuses himself — muttering something about how he didn’t wanna get in the middle of anything.

jj pays no mind to his exit, yanking his hat off his head to run a hand through his hair with a clenched jaw. “are you forgetting i bring my gun with me everywhere? you know i’d hate to shut this party down but that dude was practically beggin’ for it.” he scoffs.

“your gun? jj are you crazy?” you explode, yelling over the music with wide eyes searching his for a shred of humanity. when he smirks and peels his shirt up between pinched fingers, revealing his gun tucked in his waistband your breath hitches in your throat. you despise the way it gives you butterflies.

“always strapped, baby. always ready.” he stares you down and your brows furrow, shaking your head.

“whats your problem? we aren’t together anymore.” you stress.

“okay? i’m looking out for you. you’re welcome. dude was looking at you like you were a piece of meat i just couldn’t allow that!” he argues and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“oh, because telling him about how you came on my face was just such a classy move, jj. you’re a real gentleman.” you’re practically pouting, crossing your arms over your chest.

“not my finest moment, i’ll admit.” he holds his hands up before stepping into your space. he presses his body to yours and you can feel the shape of his gun pressing against you at his waistband. you shiver. “lemme make it up to you mama. i’ll drive you home, alright? i swear i’ll keep my hands to myself.”

jj was many things, but truthful wasn’t one of them.

✉️୨ৎ🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི⋆⭒˚｡🤍

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Suspicious

G/N. So so stupid.

Your boyfriend is indulging in suspicious behaviour.

More and more, you catch him smiling sweetly at his phone, chuckling. At times you think you might have heard a squeal. He's always staring into it late at night, first thing in the morning, hiding his screen away from you.

Which usually would put you on edge if he was anyone else. Leave your imagination running wild, cause your insecurities to rise to the surface.

But you know Goo. He would have no problem kicking you out of his bed, his apartment, his life if he didn't want this anymore.

Except this isn't that. He's still as clingy as ever, still a mischievous menace. A brat, feral and needy, showing his own brand of affection and fondness.

You're almost certain that if you asked, he would shave his head for you. His precious blonde locks. That's how much he loves you.

However. The behaviour is peculiar, odd. You don't know what to think.

.

.

He's engrossed in his phone even more than usual this evening.

He didn't hear you come through the door, pad through the apartment, sneak up over his shoulder, almost breathing into his ear, eyes briefly scanning over his screen until-

"What's this?"

Goo yelps. Jerks away violently and with such force his glasses clatter onto the floor.

"Shit!" You hear him mutter under his breath as he tries to discreetly click his screen off and bend down for his glasses.

You're pretty certain you saw what you think you did.

…Really? Is this what he's been hiding from you?

Tentatively, because it's obvious this guy is touchy as hell about this, you ask, "Is that-"

"Nope!" He snaps, a very uncharacteristic blush blooming over his cheeks.

"Goo," You grin, eyes crinkling. "Are you embarrassed?"

He puts his glasses back on, adjusting them as he peers over haughtily at you, regaining some of his composure. "No cupcake, I don't get embarrassed."

You put your hand on your hips, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. That's why you've been sneaking around with your phone."

"I have not been sneaking."

"Sneaking."

"I-"

"Sneak. Ing." You emphasize each syllable, then ready your fingers at his forehead. "I may have thought you were up to no good." With that, you give Goo a light flick that he grossly overreacts to and screeches.

"So what?" he rubs his forehead with a pout, "I'm always up to no good."

That's true. You admit it with a sigh.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, clicks it back on sheepishly. "They just... They love each other."

"I know." You tread carefully, not sure which of his manic moods he's rapidly approaching.

"And they both die in the manga." You swear you see Goo's lip wobble, "I just want them to be happy."

Ok, that was definitely his voice cracking you heard there as he shows you his browser, tabs upon tabs of fanfiction open-

Really, goddamn. That is a lot of fanfiction. Although you understand the grip of a hyperfixation all too well.

Maybe you should have seen this coming. You know Goo loves his manga and anime, and you know he loves this particular one. You just didn't know how much. You didn’t realise he indulges in fandom activities.

But-

Did he not realise you loved it too? The amount of fanfiction you gorge on? That there was no need to hide this from you? You wouldn’t have ever made him feel ashamed of this.

"Hey,” You give him an encouraging smile and a nudge, “Did you read the college AU one? Where they're both-"

"PROFESSORS AND MARRIED!" Goo interjects, eyes widening in realisation. 

"Cupcake!" He purrs, any embarrassment or hesitation a thing of the past. The distant past. He throws his arm around you. Ecstatic at finding new common ground, starts to ramble and talk about his favourite fics, his least favourite. The tropes he loves, the tropes he hates. Mouth running a mile a minute.

When he finally pauses to take a breath, he smooches you on the cheek. Reading between the lines, as a way of apology for his suspicious behaviour.

And continues, until you interrupt him and tell him that your favourite ship is actually these other characters and-

"Ugh. Tasteless." Goo scoffs, removing his arm from you and stepping away as if your terrible taste will infect him.

[slut4daviii]

character: t.shigaraki

pt: 01/01

cw: face-fucking, praise, degradation, yandere-themes, vibrational quirk, body worship, dark DARK themes, fingering, marathon cumshots, sexual torture, strong submissive/dom themes, sir/daddy kink, hate-fucking

summary: Shigaraki kills [names] gf then kidnaps him, wanting a relationship but gets something much more…pleasurable.

a/n: this shii is straight ass. i jus finally got over my writers block😻. i swear to you guys, the next smut i write will be 100x better. trust me pls.

title: [name]’s BITCH

wc: 1200-1700

────────────────────────

────────────────────────

it was dark.

utter obscurity.

hushed voices whisked around you, echoing into the silent background that was yourself.

you tried to move— tried to undo the bindings around your wrist; they only tightened, burning your skin in an agony you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

you let loose a hiss, somehow putting the whispers to rest. you could feel eyes dart to your body, feel their sting against your revealed skin.

you turned your head away, cursing lightly. ‘where the fuck am I?’ you weren’t asking anyone in particular, just trying to calm your racing nerves.

“finally awake, hm?”

you listened intently, perking your ears to hear better. the voice sound so familiar, as if… you’d known him for years.

“not a talker, huh?”

you continued to listen; trying to make out whom you were speaking with.

“are you mad at me, [name]?”

you gritted your teeth at the question, hissing again at the increased pressure on your wrist.

“oh, please don’t be mad at me [name]! I swear I don’t mean to hurt you! I just couldn’t stand to watch her take you away from me any longer.”

you reeled back, eyes darting aimlessly around the darkness still plaguing your vision.

“I had to do it [name]! if I didn’t, she would’ve took you away from me and became your wife! then you wouldn’t realize how much you need me and not her!”

the words weren’t making sense, ramblings from a person you knew but couldn’t see. through his manic dialogue, you’d figured out one thing— he was the one who killed your girlfriend.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

his mumbling ceased at the sound of your voice. replacing itself with a suppressed moan. “ye—yes sir?”

the words came out jumbled, unformed and quick. breathy and quiet. they made way to your ear, quelling the anger inside of you.

“you killed [gf/name]?” your tone was heavy— deep and rough, sending pleasure running down Shigaraki’s spine.

“she was taking you away from me—! I had to do something to get your attention, please don’t be mad at me!”

you stayed quiet, closing your eyes to slow your breathing.

“s—sir? are you— you mad at me?”

the word ‘sir,’ he kept using it. despite him being in control of the situation. he kept referring to you as the… dominant one; making it clear that he wanted something from you, something that seeing your girlfriend have, made him go crazy with jealousy.

“c’mere.”

Shigaraki moaned softly, his body moving without instruction. he stood over you, awaiting your next command.

“take off this mask and the ropes around my arms”

he hesitated, shaking with anticipation; “b—but sir, you’ll try to le—leave me!” he began begging you, “anything else! please! I’ll do anything for you!”

“anything?”

“yes, yes please! anything!”

“take. off. the mask. and these ropes.”

Shigaraki let out a gasp, sharply inhaling before removing the burlap sack that was attached to your shoulders.

your vision was glared, blurry and unfocused behind the florescent lights overhead. you stared up at Shigaraki, waiting for your vision to clear. when it did, Shigaraki shimmered— his eyes were lined with unspilled tears, his body shivered with emotion, and he looked… ravishing.

“now the ropes.”

tears flooded his face, and an expression of pure despair overtook took him; shoving his pride to unconscious depths.

he did as you said, pulling the ropes from your skin before standing back; waiting for you to leave.

you looked at him, watching at tears ran downwards, falling to his chest. you smirked at this— reaching for his hips and pulling him unto your lap, simultaneously activating your quirk (vibration).

he moaned breathlessly, back arching to a near perfect crescent. “why’re you crying? I haven’t even put it in yet.

before he could answer, you slid your left hand down his back— slipping your fingers into his pants and pass his already prepared hole.

“you’ve already prepared?” you began vibrating your fingers, repeatedly smashing into his prostate.

“GHAK!! [n—name]! yo—you’re nhgk! so fuhgking deeep!”

“oh? do you not like that?” you began thrusting— adding a third in the process. Shigaraki screamed into your neck, cumming instantly.

“ju—just cuhm, came! s—st—stop! too much!”

you tilted your head to the side, smiling up at the fucked out male. “I thought you wanted this? you killed my girlfriend to take her spot right? well now you have it, all to yourself babyboy.”

Shigaraki’s eyes rolled back, his head following suite. you smiled at him, placing your hand on his back and leaning forward to bite his adams’ apple.

his body convulsed, cumming inside his pants once more. “damn, again? usually [gf/name] can last longer, you know? actually make me nut first.”

you withdrew your fingers from him, pushing him onto the floor. he heaved— gasping for air. his body still shook from his previous three orgasms, twitches of pleasure running circles across his nerves.

you laughed, leaning down to grab him by his throat. he went almost completely limp, only smiling as you brought his tear stained face closer to yours.

“do you want daddy’s cum? want me to fuck your face until you pass out?”

Shigaraki eagerly nodded, hands coming up to grasp and grip at your clothed cock. “wan—wanna make s—sir p—proud.”

you felt your cock twitch at his nature— slutty and submissive, a complete 180 of his public figure: cold, heartless, and brutal. you kissed him, passionately swapping your tongue into his mouth.

“open your mouth.”

he obeyed, sticking his tongue out in the process. you grinned and spit into his mouth, “don’t swallow it.” your fingers gripped his neck, digging into the skin, “understand?”

he convulsed, on the verge of another orgasm.

“fucking slut.” your tone was dipped in laughter, mocking his lustrous appearance. you let go of his neck and moved to your own pants— undoing the jaw strings of your sweatpants and pulling out your cock.

Shigaraki looked on with awe, admiring every vein and bulge that lined your beautiful cock. you jerked yourself once or twice, feeling pleasure instantly fill your mind. you looked at Shigaraki through lidded eyes, smirking inward. “you ever taken a dick this big?”

he looked like a bitch in heat: rubbing his thighs together, panting, drool rolling down his chin, eyes glossy and tear-stained.

you clicked your tongue, motioning him closer. he obliged, moving so that your balls were touching his lips.

you lifted his chin, holding your cock at the base. “is it pretty?” he nodded impatiently, sticking his tongue out to lick your tip. “aht aht.” your slapped him with your shaft. one time on the left side of his face, then once on the right. “answer my question first.”

Shigaraki pouted, trying to connect your cock with his tongue. you rolled your eyes and pulled away, slapping your cock on his tongue instead. he moaned endlessly, trying to fit your tip between his lips. “plu—please [name]! fuck me! pound me until I can’t take it! I’m your slut! I’m your slut! pleasee!”

his desperation was evident, making it difficult to keep your composure. yet, you persisted. “how much do you want it?”

Shigaraki groaned, back arching painfully. you tsk’d and grabbed a handful of his hair, shoving your cock into his throat. he choked, spit running down your balls and up your pubes. you pulled him away, giving him a second to breathe before your shoved him back down, going even further— making him take you to your base.

“how much do you want my seed?” you pulled him off and waited for a response.

through spit and drool, he held up his hands, “I’d kill my own family for it! I’d—I’d—I’d leave all for one and the league of villains just for a taste of you! [name], I’d kill myself for your amazing— he began kissing up and down your shaft— beautiful, hard, thick, glorious— he shoved his face into your balls, sucking the skin skillfully— ghod sihzed purfecet dhick!!”

you took pride in what you could do with your cock, and Shigaraki’s begging only intensified your ego.

you pulled his hair, lifting him to your tip. he used his tongue to align it with his mouth, sinking to the base immediately. you sighed blissfully, letting your head fall back, indulging in all the thoughts of what you would do to ‘the king of villains’

you looked down at him, watching as his slid up and down your length, his tongue lapping over even inch of skin and his cheeks hallow enough to pull your soul out.

“what’s your name, Tomura?”

he slowed, coming to your tip with an echoing pop. spit and precum fell from his mouth in an adulterous fashion, a line of spit still connecting him to your tip.

“[name]’s bitch.”

[brucewaynehater101]

Hear me out for something Silly. Jack is not Tim's biological parent. Jack, Janet, and Tim all know this. So does Tim's biological parent. Tim does have contact with his Biodad and they do get along wonderfully. When he has time off from his very busy job and thinks it's safe, he will 100% drop by Gothem to see his son. Even if they can't see eachother a lot, Tim and his dad are still very close.

As for how this happened, Janet and Jack had a three way with a *very* interesting stranger about the time Tim would have been conceived. Since he didn't exactly look like Jack, they did a DNA test and then called the guy and asked him to do a DNA test. He told them he would but only if he got his DNA back after the test. Just one of his weird quirks that worked as Rizz on the pair.

Honestly though, it's nothing short of a miracle that they got The Question of all heroes to do a paternity test, but then again. He has always wanted to be a dad and this is an opportunity that just fell into his lap! And the day he walked into his son of 7 years old standing infront of a corkboard covered in pictures and string? It was the proudest day of his life. He had little Tim talk him through all of the strings and explain his theory and Tim started by smacking his little hand on the board and saying in the most manic voice, "BATMAN IS BRUCE WAYNE."

By the end, Question was pacing around the room as Tim also paced around the room, both rambling at eachother as they used Bruce's connections to uncover who well over half the leauge are. Does Question feel a little guilty about finding out his coworkers identities? Maybe. But he doesn't care, he's bonding with his son! His son is brilliant!! Not even he knew who Batman was!!! He could never have been prouder and it nearly made him cry.

Years later when Tim became Robin, he freely told Question about it and while Question didn't approve fully, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop his brilliant, wonderful, adorable, *stubborn* son. Tim could out stubborn a hundred mules, just like both his mother and his father. Maybe he could even out stubborn the both of them, as evidence by Question being the one to cave first. He caved on the condition that Tim get *proper* training and go to a few people of his choosing after he trains under the people that Bruce wants him to train under. Tim agrees and gets a few extra teachers in his time away.

Tim does not tell the Bats that Question is his Dad, simply assuming that if he could figure out who they were at 7 years old, they can figure out something as simple as who his parent is. Turns out, all of the Bats think that Jack Drake is his father and he doesn't find this out until Jack dies. When he does so, Bruce asks where Tim is going to stay and he replies, "with my Dad and his wife, obviously." To which there is quite a bit of confusion until Tim scoffs and crosses his arms as he states, "Jack Drake was never my father. He and Mother were very open about the fact that they had a 3 way and the other guy there is my biological father. I've been in contact with him regularly since I was 3. Sure he's not there all the time but he makes sure to visit minimum once a month. Usually at least twice a week. He's a good person and I'll be fine living with him and his wife. Hell, he's been trying to get me to move in with him for years anyways! Honestly, I thought you already knew this Bruce. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see my Dad." And simply walked out if the cave.

The Bats. Don't know who his father is. Nor for lack of trying though. His dad is The Question that man leaves no evidence of anywhere he has been and never walks into cameras. He leaves just enough that they know he's real. Jason has seen the man with his own two eyes and swears he is a red head, but the man vanished before Jason could say a word to him. However Damian saw Tim talking to someone with black hair and and blue coat on patrol, but didn't get a look at his face. The guy was gone before Damian could get there and Tim tells him that it was his dad doing a mid patrol check in, which he does sometimes.

There is nearly a very big fight about civilians and identity hiding until Tim snaps, "HE KNEW FROM THE DAY I KNEW. HE HELPED ME WITH MY FUCKING EVIDENCE BOARD AND ENCOURAGED ME. BESIDES, HES NOT EVEN A CIVILIAN ANYWAYS!" And before anyone can question it, he goes on a long rant about how it can't be that hard to piece together who his dad is because they haven't been hiding it from them At All and how disappointed he is in them. As he does so, he is texting someone and when asked who, Tim snaps, "my Dad! I'm telling him to come to the Batcave because you're all idiots who couldn't find the link between us!" This leads to Bruce getting angry about inviting strangers to the Batcave and Tim scoffs about Bruce having invited his dad there before.

30 minuets later, when The Question walks in and says, "Hello Batman." Bruce turns to him to ask why he's there but Tim cuts in and says, "finally! Dad, can you believe that none of these idiots put it together?! They have no idea were related!" And Question just says, "but. We've been living together for nearly a year. I've known you all your life and you are the greatest thing I've ever helped to create." And Tim blushes a bit at the last part but plays it off by insulting The Bats, "right? And they call themselves Detectives!"

They spend the next hour roasting the Bats together and also mentioning off the walls crazy theories that are actually true.

Years later when Tim goes on the Brucequest, he doesn't go alone. He shows his evidence to his dad and Question and Huntress both come with him to help. Tim doesn't loose his spleen thanks to them but they do have to team up with the LOA because they have Tam held hostage. They also blow up the leauge but all credit goes to Tim and when they get Bruce back, they try to give credit to Tim but the Leauge just points at Question and Huntress and says, "those two did it."

Holy shit. This AU is fantastic.

I do not know nearly enough about Question, and you've pointed out the errors in my ways. I should know more about him because you are absolutely correct (also, AUs that speculate who can be Tim's bio parents are hilarious to me).

Fuck. I just binged some of his content (a very small amount), and I swear to gods this man is hilarious. His dry wit, conspiracy theories, humor, and overall demeanor is grand. I should find more.

Anyways, I absolutely love how Jack, Janet, and Question are peacefully coparenting. There's no drama or tension. Jack isn't jealous or mad. They just raise Tim together.

Tim and Question bonding over theories, research, stalker tendencies (referencing when Question said he goes through everyone's trash), and pin boards is adorable. This is a friendship/mentor bond I didn't know I needed in my life until now.

I'm also vibing with Question messing with the Bats while Tim us legitimately confused how they haven't figured anything out yet.

I'm also imagining post Jack's funeral (if this is a good dad Bruce AU), that Bruce turns to the newly orphaned Tim. He has adoption papers metaphorically behind his back and does a blue screen at realizing that Tim has been hiding even more parents all this time. It seems his adoption addictions were stopped this time, dagnabbit.

[vaaaaaiolet]

This summer, you're a swimming instructor. The cute lifeguard that rescued you from drowning in the deep end of the pool last week invites you out for a romp on the beach and you end up getting a little in your head.

Lucky for you, Leon's a dab hand at his job. Especially for you, even if he's off duty.

f / m, fluff, romance, body image issues, banter, tw: eating issues, reader is awkward and body conscious :( but leon is a sweetheart and a TOTAL flirt, slight?? afab nsfw

a/n: title from "my fun" by suki waterhouse! i'm finally reaching the end of my manic writing streak, and since summer's in full swing, you all better know that you look STUNNING no matter what!! your incredible support means the world to me <3

this fic belongs to sketches for my sweetheart the drunk, a collection of bite-sized fics to stretch out my writing muscles :) i hope you enjoy!

word count: 662 // read on ao3

Can’t do it, nope.

You skitter back under the shade of an umbrella blooming on the beach. The water’s beautiful today. Incessant little waves lap at your feet, coaxing you into the turquoise coast. 

The sinking feeling in your stomach outweighs any of its appeal.

He spots you on his way back from his truck. You’re swaddled in a towel big enough for the both of you, buried in a book that you find super interesting (once you turn it right side up), and just as you get into the nitty gritty of how to win friends and influence people, your reading gets swiped up from right under your nose. “Hey!” 

Leon blinks innocently, twisting his wrist to read the cover, “You’re into this kinda stuff?”

“It’s how I’m so winning,” you cross your arms over your stomach, whatareyousaying?, “and influential. To people.”

“To people.” He repeats.

“Uh huh.”

Way to go. If the cute lifeguard didn’t think you were weird for asking if he knew how to swim, he’s definitely going to think you’re weird now. What kind of swimming instructor doesn’t swim at the beach?

And as you think you’ve screwed it all up with the only cute guy who’s asked you out all summer, Leon just chuckles, hunkering down on the sand next to you. “You’re influential, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ll put my swimming off until later too.”

So Leon saves you again, like he did at the deep end of the pool last week.

“Toss me something from the cooler?” he asks.

He shucks off his shirt, revealing a set of well-earned abs. Jesus, they ripple, they’re waves. You’d happily take a surfboard to his six-pack. 

Sadly, you settle for handing him a Coke instead.  

“Is something the matter?” he asks after a bit. Leon almost sounds shy, his cheeks a sunkissed pink to match as he sips.

You shake your head no as winningly as possible.

“Are you sick? Cramping?” Oh, he’s a sweetheart, “‘Cause we can go anywhere you want. I just thought since you teach swimming…” His fingers inch towards your towel-covered thigh. 

“Seriously,” you laugh, “it’s not a big deal, you go swim.”

“Really? Cause I’m thinking the pretty girl I finally convinced to go to the beach with me is going to run the other way the minute I turn my back.”

Your face sears with heat as you open your mouth and nothing comes out. 

“Kidding, I swear. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You wrap the towel a little tighter around your stomach, and Leon’s brow pinches. “What’s that all about?”

“Just not feeling like I look my best,” you admit, glancing over to the picnic basket you brought along, “It’s just for today, I don’t like how I look and maybe I should go easier on the food-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The sharp pitch of his voice snaps your eyes back up as he plucks a nectarine out of the basket and slips it into your hand. He won’t take no for an answer – did he see how shaky your legs were at the pool this morning? 

“You spent all day chasing your swimming class around; you need energy to kick my ass at Chicken like you promised, remember?”

“Come on, it’s not that serious. I just missed breakfast.” You’re mumbling now, sounding not at all influential or winning, “I had enough energy for today’s lesson anyway.”

“You’ll lose your boobs.” Leon shrugs, sinking his teeth into another nectarine before you smack him on the shoulder. A scandalized gasp tears out your throat as he laughs.

“That’s a stretch!”

“I don’t make the rules. Eat. Land or water, you’re gorgeous both ways.”

And there he was again, doing what he does best. The sinking feeling lifts with each bite you take of the fruit, and just maybe, you might not have messed this all up.

“Attagirl.”

You meet Leon’s grin with an idiotic one of your own. “Charmer.”

“Pretty girl.”

fun fact: i once got flirted with like leon does to reader at the end but that guy did it much worse and it was a total ick 💀 lowkey i might not keep this up either AHGHG

click for my full drabble collection, and find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care!

[queeneamidala]

𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

{𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎}

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Joel never knew what summer felt like. Until he met you.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fluffy fluff fluffiness. Pining!Joel. Jackson!Joel. Post-Outbreak. Soft!Joel. Some alcohol consumption. (Age gap or no age gap, you decide). Close proximity. Joel is disgustingly in love. Light swearing. Coffee consumption. Flippin’ POVs like a burger at McDonald’s. Slow burn. Like, slooooooooow. Sort of kind of proofread (don’t hurt me). F!Reader, but has no description of any kind, so it’s all you bby <3

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: <3k

ᴬ/ᴺ: Baby’s first fic!!! God, I’m so nervous. I really hope you guys enjoy it! This literally came to me while I was manic as fuuuuuu- and it was inspired by a Taylor Swift song (don’t judge!) So far I’ve written 2 1/2 parts, I think I’ll post part 2 this Sunday? Theres a LOT more to unpack in part 2, so stick around… Please let me know what you think!!! Likes, reblogs, comments, anything and everything is appreciated!! Thank you and happy reading <3

~*~*~

Joel was eating idly in the cafeteria when he heard Ellie’s voice. He glanced back, and noticed her talking to a woman he had seen around the town of Jackson. She was a friend of Tommy and Maria’s, he knew that much. But, he hadn’t spoken a word to her.

She was beautiful, but that was just a general observation.

You were beautiful, and he had made this observation several times while passing you by in town. He had noticed you speaking to nearly every person in town. You had a very easy going air about you, friendly. Open.

So, he steered clear. Forming personal connections outside of immediate family was not something he was keen on. He has had a life fraught with grief, seen and done unspeakable things. He wasn’t meant to be loved, not after everything he’s done.

But, the way you talked to Tommy, Maria, and now Ellie more and more often had Joel at an uncomfortably close proximity to you. Your presence was drawing near, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He sort of didn’t want to stop it.

But, just when he thought you were going to approach the table to sit, you broke away from Ellie and walked to a different table. He felt something drop in his chest. Was that really disappointment that he felt?

“Makin’ friends?” Joel questioned as Ellie sat down, and she snorted.

“Right. ‘Cause I have friends.” She said dryly, and Joel cocked up an eyebrow.

“Looks like it.”

“You could use a friend.” Ellie replied, and Joel shifted a bit uncomfortably.

“I don’t need anyone.” He said into his food, and Ellie made a face, rolling her eyes.

“Everybody needs at least someone.”

Joel’s eyes shifted to you sitting at the table just across from them. Your smile was radiant, and he felt something twist in his chest.

No.

He wasn’t meant to be loved.

~*~*~

Winter was coming, and the people in town were preparing. You were busy but still managed to make time for people. For everyone really. Joel was almost envious about how easy you talked to people. He didn’t have the same talent, and he was fine with that.

So, one day, when he was called upon a house to help with some faulty wiring, he was taken aback when it was your house he was called to.

You didn’t need help. Not really. You were fairly self sufficient, and made your own way through town. Joel knew this, and it made him nervous when you called upon him specifically to make sure you were prepared for the wintertime.

But, he took his toolkit and went to your place. The door was open, but…

You weren’t home.

He felt disappointment in his chest again. He shook it off though and walked to the side of the house outside. He opened the box and began to work diligently, his mind wandering to other things.

“You look so serious.” A voice said, and Joel jerked back like he had been electrocuted. His head swiveled to the side and he saw you standing there, leaning against the side of the house with your arms crossed. You looked so effortless and cool, and-

How long had you been standing there?

“Job’s gotta get done.” Joel said, gesturing to the box, “as you requested.”

You nodded, and a smile creeped into your face that he hadn’t seen before. He had seen you smile plenty of times- laughing and talking with the people in town, with Maria, with Ellie. But this felt different. Or was he just imagining it?

“Yeah, you came highly recommended.” You said, and Joel scoffed, turning back to the box and tried to get back to work. But, he was horrible at multitasking, especially when it came down to you while he was preoccupied with something else.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Ellie was insistent that you were the best the town had.” You said, and Joel lost his concentration and nearly dropped the screwdriver he held.

Christ, I’m gonna kill that girl.

He furrowed his brow like nothing happened and kept working. He was definitely going to talk to Ellie later. The last thing he needed was the whole town to be depending on him for maintenance.

But for you…? Well, it wasn’t so bad.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to receive you. Work held me up.” You said, gesturing behind you. Joel finally flicked a switch and the box buzzed to life. He felt himself deflate a bit. Guess it was time for him to go.

“No worries.” He said, putting his tools back in the toolbox and stood straight. He held the box in hand, and regarded you with soft brown eyes. You pushed off the corner of the house, and smiled that smile of yours.

“You… let me know if there’s- if there’s anythin’ else.” Joel said, trying to keep it drawn out but it sounded rushed to his ears. He nodded minutely and you stepped out of the way.

“Thank you. It means more to me than you know.” You said, and shifted, your shoulders brushing by accident. Joel simply nodded, and made his way home.

He rubbed his arm after a few minutes of walking, and swore he felt warmth there.

~*~*~

Tommy and Joel were sitting at the local “bar” (if you could even call it that) and were talking over a few drinks.

You had requested Joel’s help two more times now. Both small and trivial, but Joel was more than happy to help. You weren’t there the second time he came, but when he was there the third time, you offered him coffee. He was an idiot, and turned you down. But, that smile never wavered.

“Next time.” You said.

Next time, Joel thought. There was going to be a next time? He hoped so.

“I see you’re helping some people out. Good for you to get some socializing in.” Tommy noted after taking a sip of his drink. Joel shrugged,

“It’s fine, I guess. Just doin’ my part.” He said. Tommy nodded, and regarded his brother with a peculiar expression. Joel felt like he was plotting something, but didn’t have time to really think about it before a voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Well, you two look like you’re having fun. Mind if we cut in?” Maria questioned, and Joel barely looked up, until it registered in his mind.

We?

You settled into the seat beside Joel while Maria took the one by Tommy, boxing the boys in. Joel instinctively stiffened, and hoped you didn’t notice. If you did, you didn’t show it.

“What are we drinking tonight, boys?” You questioned, and Joel glanced at you. He cleared his throat, looking down, and held up his glass slightly.

“Whatever they’re trying to pass off as beer.” He said, and you looked at him. He felt like a deer in the headlights, watching you look at him. It felt like time was suspended, and he gulped. But, you smiled like it was nothing and turned to the bartender.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” You said, jutting your thumb at Joel. The bartender slid the glass into your hand with ease. Joel thought everything you did was effortless. You certainly made it seem so.

It dawned on him that Tommy and Maria were knee-deep in their own conversation, promptly blocking off you two. Joel felt put on the spot, under your eye.

“Thanks for all your help by the way.” You said, taking a sip of the beer. Joel nodded, his brown eyes casting down to his beer.

“Anytime.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It wasn’t lost on you that Joel was slowly becoming a bigger part of the community. He wasn’t just keeping to himself, but helping others with house repairs or such. You hadn't seen him offer such services until you had reached out to him.

But, he didn’t do it for them. He knew that deep down inside.

He did it for you.

“I gotta say, Mr. Miller, you’re an enigma.” You said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, and felt his stomach lurched at you saying his name, even if it was his last name.

“A what?”

“An enigma. You know; a mystery, something hard to explain.”

“I ain’t no mystery.” He said, shaking his head. You grinned, and tilted your head to the side. Joel felt his mouth go dry, so he took a sip of his beer to quell it.

“Okay, okay.” You said, shrugging and turned your gaze across the bar. He felt your elbows becoming achingly close. If he just shifted just slightly, he could feel you against him.

But, he’s not meant-

“Mind if I stop by tomorrow?” You said so abruptly that it threw his thoughts off.

“Sorry?”

“I got Ellie a new book. Something about space and aliens and shit. Something I think she’d like.” You said. Joel felt a twinge of appreciation there. So, somebody was looking after Ellie besides him. He liked that. It warmed his hardened heart.

“Sure. You can drop it off.” He said, and he stole a glance your way. You were grinning, but trying to hide it. You took a sip of your beer to try to mask it, but he could see the way the corners of your lips quirked up.

“I’ll be there then.”

~*~*~

Joel had waited for you for a day or two. He found reasons to stay home, claiming he wasn’t feeling well, that he was sick. So, when you finally knocked on his door towards the end of the second day, he was surprised to find you holding a dish in your hand as well as the book.

“Heard you weren’t feeling well. Made you a little something.” You said so casually it was like you were talking about the weather. But, Joel was floored. You heard about him, and went out of your way to do something for him?

He felt bad for faking his illness. But, the fact you did this? It made him… feel.

“Thank you.” He said, and went to take it but then paused. You laughed,

“I don’t care about getting sick. Here.” You said, and handed him the dish, barely crossing over the threshold. He took it gingerly, and looked down at it. Whatever it was, it looked damn good.

“Do you… would ya want to come in?” He offered. You suddenly beamed, and god, if that wasn’t a sight to see, Joel thought there wouldn’t be anything better in the world.

“If you want.” You responded, and Joel moved to let you inside. As you passed, he could smell your soap, or personal scent- whatever it was, he felt lightheaded in the best way. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen, you following him along.

“I also have the book. Hope Ellie’s not too mad it took me so long.” You laughed and set the book on the kitchen table. Joel walked to the other side, setting down the dish.

“‘M sure she won’t mind.” He said, and his eyes shifted to you. You and all your beauty, your kindness, the way your eyes smiled even while you were sharing a passive look.

“Do you want some coffee?” He questioned, and there he went, sounding rushed again. He just wanted you to stay, to share you sunlight with him just a bit longer.

When you agreed to it, he got busy. He nearly knocked off the mugs off the counter trying to prepare everything. You sat at the table, and glanced down at the book. Joel looked back to see your attention on something else other than him, and felt a little more at ease.

“I got a patrol coming up.” You said, and Joel poured the dark liquor into one of the faded mugs. He turned and carried it to you at the table, sitting across from you.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. This will be my first one.” You said, and he could see for the first time something else in your expression- anxiety. Fear.

He didn’t like it, to see you facing such emotions. He wished he could wrap them all up and throw them away. Whatever it took to see your smile again.

“Who’ya going with?”

“Jim Harris.” You replied with a nod, and Joel sat up a bit straighter. He didn’t like Jim, he always came off as loud and imposing. He didn’t have the best reputation when it came to women, either. He was rude and disrespectful, and there had been some complaints about harassment made against him.

“I see.” He said. Why did anyone assign you with Jim Harris, of all people? They knew of his ways and his complaints. The last thing they needed was to put you with him, all while alone.

No, he wouldn’t stand for that.

“I’ll get ‘em to switch things around. I’ll go with you.” He said, and nodded with finality. You looked at him, a bit surprised if not shocked.

“Oh. You really don’t have to-“

“I insist. I can get some strings pulled so you won’t have to be near him. Besides, I just… I can’t stand someone like him being near you. It ain’t right.” He said, his fingers gripping the coffee mug a bit tighter at the thought of Jim laying even a finger on you. You looked at Joel, the shock really settling in now. Joel was unaware of the gravity of his words in the moment, something he would regret later. Not that he said them, but that he hadn’t said more.

“… Thank you.” You said quietly. Joel looked at you, and felt his chest bloom with warmth. Your words, though short and few, were filled with gratitude and relief that didn’t go unnoticed by Joel.

“Anything you need, darlin’.” He said, the name rolling off his lips before he could stop himself. You smiled, and Joel would have given you the moon right then and there if you asked.

He cleared his throat as if it would clear the air, and he visibly relaxed. Knowing you would be under his care and away from Jim Harris’ whole being made him feel better. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a strong need to be by your side when the time for patrol comes. It just felt right that he would be there to protect you.

“A true southern gentleman.” You mused as you took a sip of your coffee. Joel’s face flushed, and he averted his gaze, and began to speak but you cut him off.

“I like it.”

Joel felt the ghost of a smile on his lips, and he glanced at you, shrugging.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” He said, and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel his hair curling under his fingertips as he did so. He needed a haircut, and sorely.

But, the town was lacking a barber, so he figured he would do it himself one of these days.

“A good habit to have.” You said, and he chuckled.

“Whatever you say, da-“ but he quickly cut himself off and hurriedly spoke your name instead. You smiled, regardless of what he called you. He found he liked saying your name. It felt personal, more grounded to reality. He was having a hard time grappling with reality ever since you crossed the threshold of his home. He couldn’t believe you were here, in his kitchen, drinking his coffee. He wanted this moment to last as long as time would allow- he would commit it to memory. Every word, every glance, every piece.

He found he did that often with you- just taking in any bit of you you had to offer, when he was feeling brave enough.

“I gotta get back.” You said, and stood up, rubbing your hands together to conserve the warmth of the coffee mug. Joel stood up, and nodded hurriedly, though he already felt the air grow cold at the absence of your presence.

“Of course. I’ll… I’ll walk you out.” He said, and stood up as well. He walked with you to the door at a snail’s pace, and you talked about your work for the rest of the day. The walk was all too short, and Joel’s hand rested on the doorknob. He looked at you, his brown eyes taking you in before he released you back to the world.

“Take it easy. I’ll see you on patrol. Okay?” He said, and you gave him that gut wrenching smile. Could have brought him to his knees if you so desired.

“Sounds good, Joel.” You said, and he opened the door, the chill coming in as you wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself. You smiled and gave him the lightest wave, and headed out into the cold Texas winter.

He watched you go, and his name still hung in the air. Despite the door being open, the cold sweeping in, he felt warm.

Oh, he was such a goner.

~*~*~

Part Two out now!

[justauthoring]

just a short little drabble that i managed to write inbetween studying and being sick :))))

tw. honestly, gojo and geto are like (lowkey?) toxic in this soooooo

-

"who's this?"

there's a drop of weight over your shoulders, causing you to slag slightly as you let out a huff in response.

gojo satoru smiles mirthly over your shoulders, a smile that stretches just a tad bit too wide and a bit too manic for it to be meaningful. your body tenses at the sight, shifting slightly under his grasp.

a second later, you're tugged to the left as an arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against a warm body.

"hmm," get hums as he join gojo in a similar smile, though his lips are stretched a bit thinner, and his eyes have a nasty glare to them. "seems like nobody to me."

the boy who, seconds prior, had been happily chatting away, looks positively terrified in that moment. his skin has paled, a nice sheen of sweat shining under the sun as he shuffles on the spot, cowering under geto and gojo's sheer height.

"stop it," you sigh, pressing your hand to your forehead. "you're scaring him."

gojo turns to you, bright blue dazzling eyes falling on your as he grins wide—this time though the smile has meaning to it, a hint of warmth in his gaze. "that's the point, sweets," he laughs, and you roll your eyes at the nickname.

"funny," geto snorts from beside you, shifting your attention away from gojo and on him. he's staring straight ahead, eyes focused on the quivering boy in front of you. "did you think you had a chance with her?"

the boys lips part; "no-no—"

"looking like that?" gojo cackles, loud and obnoxious. "as if y/n would ever. she probably was just being nice."

geto nods; "charity more like it."

you frown, eyes falling on the boy and watching as the fear has doubled with humiliation. his face is burning red and you swear his eyes are watering.

"you guys are being mean."

you swipe both of your arms out, smacking them in the chests as you shrug yourself away from their grasps. or, at least, that was the intent. but you make it two steps before geto's reaching forwad, fully enveloping you in his arms as he pulls you flush against his chest. you gasp out at the action, turning to yell at him until you see gojo stepping forward out of the corner of your eye.

"did you think y/n was pretty?"

geto reaches forward, taking your chin in his left hand and practically presenting your face for the boy. his eyes fall on you, wide and terrified and your face twists, annoyance flickering in your gaze.

"sugu—!"

"answer." gojo grounds out, towering over the boy.

"no-no—!" he squeaks.

okay, ow, you think, that's kind of—

"excuse me?" geto hisses from behind you, voice menacing as you grasp his wrist, trying to tug his grip off of you.

the boy cries. "i mean, yes! yes, she's pretty!"

leaning down, gojo sets his hand on his shoulder. you can see from here, though, that his grip is tight, pinching as he laughs.

"thought you'd ask her out on date," gojo sings, "was that it?"

both of their gazes stare into him.

the boy nods, frantic.

geto lets go of your chin, leaning back as his hands move to squeeze your hips. you shake your head.

"satoru," you ground out, "that's enough."

gojo merely glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, smirking.

he leans closer to the boy, causing him to let out a squeak of terror, moving until his lips are next to his ear, and he lowers his voice to a low whisper.

but you can still hear him clearly.

"what made you think she'd want you... when she's got the two of us?"

geto moves his hand, rubbing slowly across your waist as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, where your shoulder meets. he does it sensually, putting on a show for the boy who watches with wide, petrified eyes, unable to look away, all whilst listening to gojo.

"what are you compared to us?"

there's a second of silence and then gojo leans back, stepping away. the second he's given the chance, the boy is turning, all but sprinting away as quick as he possibly can to get away.

gojo watches him for a moment before turning, eyes meeting geto's as he laughs.

"you two are ridiculou!" you cry, stomping your foot as you feel yourself hot in the face, flushing heavily. both boys turn to glance down at you, geto letting his head rest on your shoulder, hand still rubbing your sides as you feel his heat all whilst gojo smirks down at you, closing the distance between you and him.

effectively leaving you trapped between both men.

"we just wanted to show him who you belonged with, baby."

"yeah. can't have nobody flirting with what's ours."

you huff. "he was asking me for directions, you idiots!"

both pause, stilling against you.

"honestly," you cry, making sure to send both of them a sharp glare. "if the two of you would think with your brains instead of your dicks, you would've seen that! besides, don't embarrass me like that either! are you crazy?"

a minute passes.

then another.

then, "he still was eyeing you funny." gojo pouts.

geto nods behind you. "i agree," he hums. "you just shouldn't talk to any guy other than us."

leaning forward, gojo leans to press a kiss against your forehead. "exactly, baby," he nods in agreement to geto. "then we wouldn't get confused."

you pause, letting their words sink in.

"you two are ridiculous."

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)

Part Two of Summon Me

Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.

"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.

"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."

You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.

Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"

You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."

A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.

"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.

To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.

Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.

⛧

Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.

"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."

The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.

You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.

Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."

You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.

James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.

Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.

The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.

"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.

Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.

He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.

The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.

James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.

Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.

A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.

"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."

James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.

"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."

Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."

You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."

Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.

His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.

The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"

He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.

He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.

A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.

Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.

The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.

You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.

"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.

⛧

James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.

Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.

A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.

"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.

"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.

Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.

'I am definitely calling him again.'

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [4]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Cecil calls you late at night

A/N: Another huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading again, making some excellent suggestions, and putting up with meeeeee <3

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, catching feelings, oral sex (afab!receiving), jerking off, p in v sex (with a condom), vibrators, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3073

I Thought It Was Dark Outside

Cecil: “Do you want to come over on Friday night?” 

You: “You got new porn recommendations for me?”

Cecil: “You want some?” 

You: “Maybe.” 

Cecil: “I was thinking we could do something a little different?” 

You: “Such as?” 

Cecil sends you a video. The preview image is black. 

Cecil: “This could be inspiration maybe?” 

You pause for a moment before you click the video. The second it starts you’re glad it’s late and you are on your own tucked up in bed. Not on public transport or at work. 

It’s, unsurprisingly, semi-professional porn. 

A woman is bouncing on a guy's cock, her hand squeezing his neck as he whines underneath her. 

You: “Is that what you’re into? Getting choked?” 

Cecil takes a few minutes to reply. 

Cecil: “Yeah.” 

Cecil: “I’m into lots of stuff.”

Cecil: “Is that okay?” 

You: “Yep.” 

Cecil: “Good. You don’t have to choke me or anything if you don’t want to, I was just thinking if you’d like to fuck on a bed?”

Cecil: “My bed?” 

You snort, unable to not find his texts weirdly endearing. 

You: “I like how formal you’re being.” 

Cecil: “Yeah? Or are you joking? Tone is hard over text.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply this time before your phone vibrates with another message. 

Cecil: “And that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” 

Cecil: “Get it?” 

You: “Your dick?” 

Cecil: “You wanna see?” 

You smile. 

You: “Sure.” 

You expect a photo, maybe a little video. But instead, Cecil video calls you. 

After the small beat of surprise, you giggle and accept the call. 

“Hi Cec,” you smile. 

“Hi,” he whines. He’s laying in bed, his face and part of his bare chest taking up the frame. His phone shakes slightly and from the sounds it’s obvious that he’s jerking himself off out of frame. 

“You having fun?” You tease. 

He pouts. “Got horny.” 

“Aw, did you?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle. 

Cecil grins, his facade breaking for a second before he reschools his face into a puppy dog expression. “Your fault.” 

You snort. “How is it my fault?”

“Talking to you, got hard.” 

Heat runs under your skin. “Show me.” 

He bites his lip and there is a manic moment where he scrambles to change the camera from front facing to back one handed, which makes you smile. 

His cock is hard against his stomach, the tip red and swollen. He’s squeezing the base lightly, but not moving. 

You lick your lips. “Aww, Cec…” You say softly and he whimpers. “Having trouble because I’m not there to take care of you?” You try your best to make your voice sound vaguely neutral and fail miserably. 

“Yes.” He whines, and you can hear the over the top sulk in his voice. 

“Want me to come and sit on it?” 

The jab is playful and anything but serious, but his cock twitches before your eyes on the screen and he groans. 

“Pleeeaseee,” he swallows, giving one slow jerk. His stomach muscles quivering under the strain. “Please, god, fuck, Harry isn’t here right now, he’s at Mary-Ann’s tonight. You could, you could stay over and-” He moans as he shallowly thrusts into his hand. “Please, you could, we could-fuck- I mean definitely fuck. I won’t even come until you get here. Please?” 

You pause, conflicted. Part of you really wants to tease him, to mess with him and watch until he spurts all over his tummy and whimpers in that oh so sweet way. 

The other really wants to be in the same room as him right now. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 23:49. This would be a booty call, wouldn’t it? 

Though at this time, it would barely take ten minutes to drive to his house. 

Fuck it. 

“Okay.” 

You barely get the word out before Cecil is uttering a stream of ‘thank yous.’

“But.” 

He stops talking quickly, a little snap echoes as he sharply closes his mouth. 

“I want you to come now. Otherwise, you’ll get too excited when you see me and’ll probably bust a nut on the spot.” 

Cecil giggles, but starts jerking off straight away, his laughter quickly turning into moans. If you hadn’t already heard him several times in previous situations, you would say he was putting it on a little. Purposefully sounding as pornographic as possible. But that was just Cecil, he couldn’t be anything but loud. 

“I would,” he manages to get out through his cries of pleasure. “You’re so smart, I totally, totally would just see you and jizz, fuck, you really gonna come over and see me?” His voice breaks a little at the end and so does a little piece of your heart. 

How many times had people lied to him? 

How many times had others broken promises? 

“I am, the second you finish.”

He whines. His hips slamming up into his fist, the slap, slap, slap of skin echoing around your room. 

“Cecil.” 

“Yes,” the word is strained, breathless.

“I wanna see you when you come, want to see your face.” You haven’t even finished your sentence but already Cecil is rapidly changing the camera. 

He looks so wrecked, his eyes glazed over. He softly whimpers your name, biting his lip. “Gonna come.” 

“Good.” 

He moans loudly, convulsing and nearly dropping the phone with the force of his orgasm. He shudders, breathing hard and pressing the back of his head to his pillow as his muscles tense and relax. 

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful. 

“That was so nice.” He mumbles and then, instead of changing the camera, just twists the phone around to show you the mess of cum on his stomach. 

You grin. “Very good Cecil.” 

“Oh fuck.” He shivers and giggles when he turns the phone back to face him, “Don’t– you’ll make me come again.” 

You snort. “You got a praise kink?” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Duh, of course.” 

You laugh and look at him for a moment, really focusing this time. There are faint bags under his eyes and his eyes themselves are red. “You high?” 

He shakes his head.

“Drunk?” 

“Nope, haven’t drunk or smoked or taken any delicious mind altering substances today.” He gives you a sincere smile. 

Maybe he’s just tired. 

Maybe he’d been crying.

You push that thought away quickly. 

“You sure you want me to come over?” 

He nods quickly, “Please– only if you want to, I mean, but, I’d really like to see you. We don’t have to do anything, well, you could just sit on my face for a few hours.” 

You bark out a laugh. “A few hours?” 

“I know,” he nods, all fake seriousness, “Not long enough….” 

“You dork.” 

“You love me for it,” he beams. 

“Yeah, sure.” You smile. “I’ll be over in ten. And no getting dressed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He mock salutes. But you get the feeling he likes it more than he is letting on. 

.

—-----------------------------------------------

The drive takes 8 minutes. A new personal record, and no speed limits were broken either.

You’ve barely knocked on the door, your knuckles just grazing the wood, before it’s thrown open dramatically. 

Cecil beams at you, ushering you in. He’s wearing a dark blue towel bathrobe that he takes off in a flourish the second the door is closed. “It’s me, Anastasia.” He flounces his arms to the side, mimicking the cartoon character. He’s completely naked, his semi cock bobs comically as he moves.

You giggle at him, kissing his cheek and then his lips. His grin widens, happiness flowing off him in waves as he wraps his arms around you. His skin is warm and he smells like coconut body wash, obviously having taken a quick shower before you got here. 

“I’m so glad you came.” He nuzzles into your neck, littering any skin he can reach with kisses. 

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”

He tuts and squeezes a fraction tighter, “You are always welcome. Literally, just come over whenever.”

A spark of warmth settles in your chest. “Yeah, well, you gotta deal with me in my pyjamas now.”

He pulls back a second, still grinning like an overly excited puppy and biting his plump bottom lip. “This is the sexiest outfit I have ever seen.” 

You laugh, but there’s a sincerity in his expression that makes you stand a little straighter. 

“But,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “You know where it would look even better?” 

“On your bedroom floor?” You snort.

“No,” he gives you a look of mock shock, “On me. It would look better on me, but you need to take it off first.” 

You chuckle, “You’re so silly.” 

“You love it… I hope?” 

“I love it.” You reassure him and stroke his cheek. 

He kisses your wrist, nuzzling into your touch and sighing happily. Slowly he inches closer, once again wrapping his arms around you, “Come to bed with me?” He poked out his bottom lip and blinks rapidly. 

“Stop,” you try to groan but can’t stop the fit of giggle the expression causes. You gently push at his cheek. “That face is terrible.”

He blinks harder. 

“Cec!” You shake your head grinning and he leans forward kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue past your lips. 

The way he softly leads you upstairs somehow feels so uncharacteristically characteristic, sweet and caring despite the raging boner he’s sporting. He barely takes his lips off your skin and you're a little surprised he doesn’t fall up the steps in the process. 

His room is suspiciously tidy, and freshly vacuumed, which makes you smile. However, you don’t get very long to admire it before Cecil pulls you towards the bed, his hands sliding greedily under your top and groaning when he realises you're not wearing a bra. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He helps you out of it quickly and sits on the edge of the bed. He palms your breasts eagerly, staring like he’d just found the holy grail before he gently kisses them, sucking one nipple into his mouth and then the other. 

Your breathing hitches as you lean into him, lightly arching your back and sinking your fingers into his hair. 

“Shit, Cecil…” You swallow and he groans, whining softly as he sucks. Pleasure twists and sparks down to your core, settling in a deep untenable ache that you crave for him to soothe. 

He laps at your right breast with the flat of his tongue as he hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls the rest of your clothing down. 

Slowly he pulls back, holding your hands as he helps to steady you as you step out of your pyjamas. His eyes are lidded, glazed with arousal as he takes you in and squeezes his balls to just take the edge off. 

He groans lowly, saliva shining on his lips as he looks up at you with those big doe eyes. “Come and sit on my face?” Cecil shuffles back fully onto the bed, laying down with his head propped with pillows before he gives you a sweet, beseeching look. 

You nod, climbing after him. Despite having been in a similar position before a sense of anxiety drapes along your skin, the times previously were rushed or accidental, things that you could argue were casual. The unplannedness of this should add to that. Should mean nothing. 

He runs his hands up your thighs eagerly as you settle into position, urging you to partially suffocate him with your core. 

He hums, licking his lips eagerly as he looks up at you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy before. 

Lightly, he tugs at your hips, pulling you closer and darting out his tongue to swipe the tip through your folds and circle your clit. “God, you taste so good.” He groans and repeats the movement with the broad flat of his tongue.

You gasp, grabbing hold of his headboard to steady yourself as he keeps licking, in long steady strokes. 

“Fuck, just use me please.” He mutters, sucking on your clit and pulling you down against him completely. He moans when you do, echoing your sound of pleasure with his. 

For a split second you forget how to move, so overwhelmed with the sensation of his thick, warm tongue. But then he grips your hips and rocks you slightly, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. 

Expletives fall out of your mouth, mixed with his name like a prayer as you grind against him, your thighs shivering and muscles tensing as you chase your peak. 

Cecil moans, slurping at your slick and pulling you closer with every circle of your hips. His balls tighten, the sounds of your cries and heavy breathing settle in the base of his spine. His eyes roll back as the pressure at the root of his cock builds, he squirms his legs, desperately thrusting upwards into nothing as he searches mindlessly for relief. 

He flicks the tip of his tongue, trying to slip deeper inside and curling until you scream, the sensation paralysing you with pleasure. You hang onto the headboard as it washes over you, leaving you weak and shaky as you breathe hard. 

Awkwardly you move back off him, worried that you might have cut off his air supply. 

“Oh fuck,” Cecil whines, breathing as heavily as you were, he looks at you and smiles. “I nearly came too, fuck. God, you sound so fucking sexy when you come, taste so good too.” He climbs over to you, kissing your cheeks and neck and pushing his face in between your breasts and breathing deeply. 

“You wanna fuck? Or you wanna nap?” He gives you a sweet look, and you’re very sure he would be content to wrap you in blankets and snuggle up for the night if you said the latter. 

“Fuck please.” You grin when he beams, excitement plastering his features. 

“I’m warning you,” he jumps out of bed and riffles through his side table drawers. “I’m not gonna just plough you.”

You snort. “Ever the romantic.” 

“No, I mean,” he grins, running a hand through his hair. “No, I mean, I’m probably gonna last less than a second if I just try to do the normal routine, you’re just so pretty and hot and I know you’re gonna feel so nice.” He whines a little at the end and shakes his head, “sorry, I, I’m gonna try not to just,” he mimics an explosion and you giggle. 

“If you gotta you gotta, you know I’ve been with guys who didn’t even try to get me off beforehand, so.” 

He pulls a face, “Where’s the fun in that?” 

You shrug. 

He finds what he was looking for in the drawer and climbs back onto the bed. “Those guys suck.” He unwraps the condom with his teeth and slides it onto himself before he fiddles with something in his hands. It’s small and metal and you don’t realise what it is until he switches it on and it buzzes into life.

“Why do you have a bullet vibrator?” You laugh. 

“For this.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you as he settles between your thighs and notches his cock at your entrance. He pauses, biting his lip, his eyes darting up from your pussy to your face. “Is this okay?”

He waits for you to nod, giving you the most brilliant smile before he slowly pushes in.

“Ohhh shiiiiiiiit,” he groans, inching in and then pausing to gather himself before he continues. He swallows and circles your clit with his thumb, the lube from the condom mixing with your slick, before he presses the vibrator to your bundle of nerves. He moves it lightly, mirroring the pattern he drew with his fingers seconds before.

He gasps when you jump, “Oh, fuck, maybe a bad idea? I can feel the vibrations through you and you're squeezing me so hard.” He whines at the end. 

You swallow, little moans escaping your lips as he finally pushes completely inside. You’d underestimated how thick he’d feel, how he’d stretch you so perfectly. The pleasure is so high it’s almost to the point of pain. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he breathes hard, shifting a little to get comfortable. “Gonna make you come again, yeah? Please?” 

“Cecil,” you whine, rocking softly against him as the vibrator sends shivers through your nerves. 

“Can I?” 

You nod, “Please, please, please. Need you to, just move.” You buck against him and he hisses. 

“No, no, no, we're just gonna stay like this and,” he shifts, leaning down so he can kiss you, one hand awkwardly pressed between your bodies to keep the vibrator in place. 

He slips his tongue into your mouth greedily, drinking down your moans as he rolls his hips, barely pulling out. 

You grab onto him for dear life, tugging at his shoulders as you move with him, matching his hypnotising pace. 

Sweat beads and slides between your bodies as each of your movements start to grow more frantic and desperate. 

He rolls his hips and the way he drags and presses against you hits a spot inside that sends a jolt of electricity through your limbs. 

Your cry is muffled by his lips, but still powerful. 

Cecil gasps, his spine arching. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that good?” He bites his lip, his brow pinched together in concentration as he focuses on repeating his thrust perfectly. 

You grab at him, unable to form words as he hits it again, suffocating in the sensation. 

“God, that's good, right? You’re, fuck, you’re fucking pulsating around me, oh!” He groans, snapping his hips, unable to hold himself back any longer. 

He whines, low and needy as he thrusts, rapidly, your name falling from his lips with every breath. “I can't, I can't, I can't-”

You tense, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your orgasm rips along your spine leaving only ashes in its wake. 

Cecil groans, high-pitched as you tense and spasm around him. It barely takes him a second to follow you, spilling violently in the condom. 

He collapses on top of you, blinking hard and then struggling to get off you, “Sorry, sorry, sor-”

You grab him by the back of the neck and pull him into a long, sweet kiss. 

He sighs happily, relaxing against you. “That was really nice.” He mumbles. “Can I make you pancakes in the morning?”

Thank you for reading!

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[pigfacedbitch]

Way Back Home

summary : visiting May Castellan after the Battle of Manhattan

word count : 1.1k

type : imagines

pairing/s : Sibling! Luke Castellan x Reader

warning/s : death, mourning for loved ones, and the unfairness mortals go through because of the gods

here is my masterlist!

Note : I'm not going to lie, I thought about this for a long time. I picked Phillipa Soo from Hamilton because she's perfect for the role. I SWEAR THAT IF THEY CHOOSE ANYONE ELSE, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM! DON'T THEY SEE THE POTENTIAL?

After the battle, like everyone else, you mourn for your lost. Specifically, Luke Castellan.

Sure, he was the traitor who betrayed your trust, caused the death of friends and siblings, and nearly brought the world to ruin by aiding Kronos. But before all that, he was your brother.

Your loving, funny, patient, older brother, the one you always confided in. He gave you affection and encouragement when you needed it, and for a time, the anchor in your fucked up demigod life.

As much as you want to forget him, you can't. You loved him dearly.

While going through the belongings he left in the Hermes Cabin, you come upon a picture of his mother.

When you first asked Luke about her, the grim expression on his face was enough for you to never ask about her again.

Until he opened up to you, saying she was cursed by the spirit of Delphi and this made him run away from home.

You thought of Rachel O' Dare, the red headed girl who is now Apollo's Oracle, and what it means for May Castellan.

Is she okay? Is her curse lifted anyhow? Is she aware of what happened?

Then it hit you. You can visit her and see for yourself, but you didn't want to go alone.

When you suggested it to Annabeth, she was hesitant.

After all, she had her own painful memories in that house; particularly May's glowing green eyes and manic behavior.

However, she knew it was necessary. It will give her the complete closure she needed with Luke, as will you.

As expected, Annabeth told Percy, Thalia, and Grover about it. While they were doubtful that it would end well, they agreed to come along for both your sakes.

Just as you were about to leave Camp Half-Blood, you are surprised to see some of your siblings waiting by Thalia's tree.

"Leaving without us?" Travis asks with a smirk as you approach.

"May we go with you? We promise we won't trash her house." Connor adds.

"What are you guys—" Travis cuts you off, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with solemnity.

"Luke was our brother too." He says, walking closer to pull you in an embrace. "So, we're not going to let you go through this alone. Got it?"

"Excuse me, we're here!" Percy remarks, sarcastic. "We're also supporting her.”

"Do you hear anyone, guys?" Connor asks, feigning confusion. "Because, I don't."

"Why, you son of a bitch—"

"True, but that's not the point. Let's go!" Connor interjects. The rest try to muffle their laughs, including you.

You arrived at the Castellan residence— a once-beautiful home with white fences and a front lawn. You can almost imagine Luke as a baby, carefree and happy with his mother and Hermes.

Oh, how that poor child turned out.

It was you who knocked on the door, with everyone else on standby. A woman, looking lost and broken, answered with a meek "H-Hello?"

She wasn't as Annabeth had described, but she wasn't the youthful, beautiful woman from Luke's pictures either.

The sight of her alone made you wanted to march to Olympus and shove your foot down your dad's ass.

Nevertheless, she invited you into her home. You frown upon seeing the mess, especially the Kool-Aid and moldy sandwiches in Tupperware containers.

As you, Annabeth, and Thalia explain what happened; you braced for a violent reaction. Instead, she just cries.

Without thinking, you got emotional and pulled her into a hug, apologizing frantically for something you didn't even fully understand. Was it guilt for Luke's downfall? Anger at the gods for the suffering they caused innocent mortals like like his mom?

You immediately pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the broken woman who, like so many others, had lost a child whose life was just beginning.

The others started to help around the house while you console her— cleaning up the mess, fixing the lights, plumbing, even mowing the lawn and painting the fence. You had no idea where they got the supplies from, and when you asked Travis, he just winked.

Percy was having a blast with the water, Annabeth had to calm him down.

May wept once more, this time from overwhelming happiness. Her home wasn't the same as before, but it's getting there. It'll be better with time, like her.

She managed to gain composure after a while, and thanked all of you for coming.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything to offer right now." She says, mustering a smile. "But if you need assistance, don't hesitate to come over."

As you all drove off, you could hear the neighbors complain about missing cleaning house supplies. Annabeth turns to your brother with a frown.

"Travis!"

"What? We needed it!"

Chiron was pleased to see how it turned out. Due to your initiative, he proposed an idea. Every fallen demigod must be honored, not only by burial rites, but their mortal families shall receive visitations and gifts if they choose to accept it.

The program is ongoing, and he specifically asked you to handle it.

Wow, too much work with no pay but okay.

May occasionally gives you and your siblings gifts and generously welcomes demigods in need, offering them food and shelter during their missions. She even entrusted you with a baby picture of Luke, a cherished keepsake among your belongings.

Then one night, Hermes visited you in your dreams. You've met him before, but this time he seem different. Happier. At peace.

He expresses his gratitude, and offered you anything you wanted.

"I want to punch you. Not as a god, as a human."

You expected him to smite you on the spot, but Hermes just laughs in amusement and agrees.

When you swung, you transferred all your pent-up emotions into your fist. It landed squarely on his perfect jaw, and you couldn’t help but smirk as he fell to the ground.

"You're stronger than I thought." He says.

"Well, I had to be."

Hermes’ smile falters at your words, and awkward silence followed.

"He's happy, dearest. Luke… He's in Elysium with the others."

Unfazed by the bruise forming on his jaw, he presses a kiss on your head.

“He's fine now. And you will be too.”

“I know.”

The next day, you woke up with the biggest smile on your face, gloating that you got to punch Hermes himself.

You're pretty sure that most of your siblings are now praying to him for the exact same thing.