#i can't believe this length used to be my regular

[hunysckle]

GGGGRRRAAAAAA I MISS MY SHORT HAIR

[writerinlearning]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭 | The One Where… Series.

plot: the one where henry saves swellview and accidentally reveals his secret identity to his oldest friend.

pairing: henry hart x fem!reader.

show: henry danger

warnings: none that i can think of. maybe some brief mention of blood and injuries.

word count: 5,3k

author’s notes: english isn’t my first language, so my apologies for the possible mistakes. this has been proofread so there shouldn’t be many mistakes, but still. this piece is a part of my the one where... series, of which you can find the masterlist linked below. it’s my first time writing for henry danger but uh, lately i found myself rewatching shows i used to watch before going to college and my current hyperfixations have been henry danger and lab rats, so here you go. not sure if anyone’s going to read this, or if anyone’s going to enjoy this, but i wrote this because i wanted to and i just thought i’d share it. i hope you enjoy!

series masterlist || main masterlist

Henry doesn’t mean to wake up one of his best friends in the middle of a school night, but truthfully, he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t know whether Charlotte and Jasper had made it out of Junk’N’Stuff in time before the collapse of all the Man Caves; he didn’t know where Piper and his parents were but he knew they weren’t at home; and he had no idea where Ray had ended up landing after deploying his parachute. Schwoz was still somewhere in the airport, last Henry knew. And besides, Henry had gone down with the blimp straight into Mount Swellview, and he still did not understand how he was still alive, but he knew his friends probably thought he’d died upon impact. That's why he found himself knocking on his best friend’s window at half past one in the morning on a school night, because her place was the first one he thought of when he woke up amongst the debris from the blimp. She is the only one unaware of his double life as Kid Danger, Captain Man’s sidekick. 

He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the light being turned on behind her curtains. He hears her footsteps getting closer, and the panic settles in his mind when he suddenly realizes he hasn’t changed back to his regular clothes. He’s still very much in his Kid Danger uniform, but he has no time to chew some gum and blow a bubble to hide his secret identity from Y/N because just as he realises he’s still in his superhero uniform, she pulls back the curtains from her window and opens the latch, making Henry stumble forward into her room, landing face first on her carpeted floor.

“K– Kid Danger?”

Her voice is soft and full of sleep, and Henry realizes she has yet to see his face. A groan leaves his lips, and he uses the strength he has left in him to push himself back up, bracing himself for her reaction upon seeing his face, half-revealed due to the half-ripped mask, as he sits against the wall under her window. 

“Hen– Henry?”

“Hey Y/N…”

Henry greets her with a sheepish smile as she stumbles back onto her bed. Her hands have flown to her mouth to muffle a gasp, probably trying to keep quiet so as to not wake up her parents. She blinks once, shaking her head.

“Oh my god…” She breathes out, reality settling in. “Oh my god! Oh my god! My best friend is Kid Danger… My best friend is Kid Danger!”

Her voice rises an octave higher with each sentence, eyes widening in full realization as she looks anywhere but at Henry sitting on her floor with his back against the wall. She stands up from her bed, arms falling at her sides as she starts pacing back and forth the length of her bedroom, muttering under her breath.

“I– I can’t believe it…” She whispers to herself, before she starts to ramble. “I– I mean… I kind of believe it now… It all makes sense. I knew something was fishy with you, and Charlotte and Jasper… even Piper… oh my god! They all knew you’re Kid Danger!” She says to herself, quickly glancing at Henry before averting her eyes and she begins pacing again. “I can't believe you lied to me. H– How did I not notice? You’re such a terrible liar! You’ve always been, ever since we’ve known each other, you’ve never been a good liar!” She pauses, taking a deep breath, and she runs a frustrated hand through her dishevelled hair. “I– I should have known… I should have figured it out! H– How did I not figure it out? H– How did you keep this from me? Wh– Why did you keep this from me?”

Her last question comes out as a heartbroken whisper, and Henry feels his chest tightens. He tries to forget about the pain spreading through his limbs from the blimp crash, his eyes solely focused on his oldest friend. He watches as she sits back on her mattress, head in her hands, and he swears he can hear his heart break when she finally looks him in the eyes, and he can see the tears welling up in hers. He bites down on his lip, lowering his gaze to her suddenly very interesting floor. He doesn’t know what to tell her, nor where to begin. By now, everyone probably believes that his alter-ego has died when the blimp crashed onto Mount Swellview, sacrificing himself for the good of the city. And Y/N is, as far as he is aware, the only one who knows that Kid Danger is still alive. 

But Y/N doesn’t say anything, and for a while Henry believes she has left her room because he cannot hear anything except for his rapid heartbeat and his trembling breath as he tries to forget about the pain in his body. Then, he feels a gentle touch on his shoulder and he lifts his head up, locking eyes with her. He wants to look away in shame, again, but her lips carve a gentle smile across her features, and she holds his gaze to hers as she drops down on the floor beside him, sitting cross-legged.

Y/N doesn’t know what to say to her best friend, her thoughts running wild in her mind. When she went to bed earlier, she did not expect to see Kid Danger standing outside her window at half past one in the morning. And she certainly did not expect Kid Danger to be her best friend. And yet, here he is, sitting on her bedroom floor with his silver and red mask half-ripped across his face, black ashes smeared across his skin, and pieces of his sidekick uniform burned here and there. She bites the inside of her cheek as she takes in his appearance, her gaze quickly flickering to the trails of dried blood hidden behind the ashes on his face. She sees him wince out in pain, inhaling sharply as he wraps an arm around his torso as if he were trying to stop the pain. 

“A– Are you okay?” She asks, almost tentatively.

“I’ll live.”

Henry chuckles, but he grows quiet again when she glares at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Of course she can see right through him; they have known each other since they were babies, there is no point in lying to her. Especially when she can clearly see that he is not exactly fine. She just asked out of politeness. 

He watches as she stands up and disappears in the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom, returning after a few minutes with a first-aid kit in her hands and a couple towels. She stays quiet as she sits back down beside him, handing him one of the towels before she opens the small red bag to take out some cotton pads and antiseptic.

“You’re covered in ashes.” She says without looking at him.

Henry lets out a breath, muttering a small sorry before he brings the towel to his face to wipe off the ashes. He stays silent when she takes the hand towel away from him, shifting her body so that she’s facing him, and she raises a hand to dab the cotton pad she holds against the cuts on his face. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a wince, but he can tell she noticed it when she whispers a small sorry and avert her eyes from his. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Henry blurts out when she’s done cleaning his face. He takes a deep breath. “I– I made an oath, back when I started, and… Piper found out by accident, it’s a long story. And Charlotte figured it out on her own, she was the first one to know and– and Jasper… Well, that one is kind of my fault actually. I thought he’d found out on his own, but it turns out it was something completely different and I ended up revealing myself to him. But them knowing? It put them in all kinds of danger, and I– I couldn’t put you through it too. I couldn’t risk something happening to you, if you knew about Kid Dan–”

“Henry?” Y/N interrupts him, and he sees the gentle smile on her face. “I understand.”

She says simply, and Henry lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

“I have questions, though.” She says next, and Henry tilts his head in confusion. “When we were fourteen, and I got stuck in an out-of-control elevator… Captain Man sent Kid Danger to help me. That was you?”

Y/N glances up to her friend with an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t know exactly how long he’s been Kid Danger, and perhaps someone else had had that role before him so she wasn’t certain he’d been the one rescuing her that day. When he cracks a smile, however, she knows it had been him, and she returns his smile. 

“And the time that– that Doctor Maniac tried to take me because he thought I knew Kid Danger.” Y/N recalls, keeping up with her interrogations. “And Captain Man and Kid Danger just so happened to be where he was… that’s because you knew he’d come after me?”

“It's Minyak.” Henry corrects her, chuckling, but he looks down when she gives him a pointed stare. “But yeah… yeah, I knew.”

“How?”

“Jasper accidentally spoke out your name and mine when Doctor Minyak put a tab on the emergency line in the Man Cave.”

“Does he still know who you are?”

“No.” Henry shakes his head. “Captain Man wiped his memory of you and me. Minyak has no memory of who you are, and he only remembers me as Kid Danger, not Henry.”

Y/N nods and falls quiet, trying to process everything whilst she remembers the countless times she’s encountered Captain Man and Kid Danger, whether she was in actual danger or not. How had she never noticed the similarities between her best friend and the superhero’s sidekick? How did Henry manage to hide his secret identity from her for so long? She lets out a sigh, running her free hand over her face, before she turns to face her best friend.

“You look like you need some ice.” She says, nodding toward his arm across his torso. “I’ll be right back.”

Henry wants to say something, tell her that it’s not necessary but she is already walking out of her room, her footsteps soft against the carpeted floor. He glances at the clock on her bedside table, the bright red numbers letting him know he’d showed up to her window thirty minutes ago. 

It doesn’t take Y/N long to return with a bag of frozen peas tucked under her arm, two empty glasses in one hand and a pitcher full of water in the other. She puts them on her bedside table, and then she whispers a small catch before throwing the bag of frozen peas at Henry. He grunts when the bag hits his lap, but he picks it up and presses it against his left side, the pain flaring up in his limbs as the cold seeps through his uniform. 

“Here.” Y/N says, dropping fresh clothes next to him.

Henry realizes she doesn’t know about the bubble gum, or anything related to his Kid Danger life. He doesn’t need the clothes, he just needs to pop a bubble to change from his uniform, and yet he appreciates the gesture and he smiles when he sees the blush across her cheeks.

“Y– you can use the bathroom t– to change.” She stutters. “Your uniform is ruined.”

Henry hums in response and struggles to get up. He picks up the clothes from the floor, a brown long-sleeved shirt and a pair of plaid pants which he recognizes as his, and he heads for her bathroom. 

When he returns from her bathroom, Y/N is sitting cross-legged on her mattress, and she is fiddling with her fingers, biting down on her lower lip. Henry sits next to her, the bag of frozen peas still pressed against his side, and he puts his free hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Thanks, for the clothes.” He tells her.

“I told you leaving clothes at each other’s place would come in handy.” Y/N smiles, gently nudging his shoulder. 

Henry shakes his head, and he sees the clock on her bedside table again displaying the time: 2:10AM. Guilt washes over him and he averts his eyes from her, her bed covers becoming interesting. 

“I'm sorry.” He apologizes. “F– for showing up at your window in the middle of the night. I– I didn't know where else to go…”

“What happened?”

Her voice is soft, and full of concern, pulling Henry in to look at her. He sees the way she bites on her lower lip, and he knows she’s worried. She always does this when she worries.

“It's not that bad.” He says, trying to reassure her. “You should see the other guy.”

That's a lie, and he knows it. Drex was dropped into Swellview’s prison by Jasper via drone before he could reach the ground so, even without his indestructibility, Drex is fine. Better than Henry. But when he sees her brows furrow and the sharp line on her lips, he sighs and shakes his head. 

“I crashed down on top of Mount Swellview with a blimp.” Henry blurts out. 

“What?!” Y/N shouts without thinking, and Henry winces.

“It would’ve crashed into the Swellview Baby Hospital if I didn’t do anything!” He justifies himself. “I couldn't just stand by and watch.”

“You could’ve died! How are you not dead?”

Y/N springs up from her bed, and she begins pacing back and forth again, running her hands through her hair and tugging at some strands in frustration. But that’s one question Henry doesn’t have the answer to, how he is still alive. He wishes he could give her an answer, and he probably could have if Schowz was around with a logical explanation to it. Unfortunately, the clock was reaching two fifteen in the morning, and Schowz probably thought Henry died, like everyone else thought in this town.

“I wish I could give you an answer to that question.” Henry admits when Y/N sits back down next to him with a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “Truth is, I have no idea. I was on top of the blimp, steering it away from the baby hospital into Mount Swellview. Next thing I know, a bird ricocheted off of me and I crashed into the mountain.”

Y/N stays silent, trying to process everything that her best friend has dropped on her as she looks down on her lap. It suddenly dwells on her just how much danger her best friend has put himself through. She remembers everything she’d seen on the news about Kid Danger and Captain Man, and she wonders how Henry has managed to stay alive after six years, give or take. She doesn’t know for how long he’s been Kid Danger, but she can take a guess.

“You had to be a hero, didn’t you?” Y/N says, and Henry can hear the judgemental tone in her usually soft-spoken voice. “I still can’t understand how you’re still alive… I mean, you literally crashed on top of Mount Swellview! The impact should have killed you. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy that you’re alive, because I would have killed you if I found out from Charlotte or Piper, or even Jasper that you died. I would have found a way to bring you back to life, just to kill you again for dying while trying to be a hero.”

She is on a rant again, which makes Henry smile a little. He cannot blame her for ranting so much, he did hide a lot of things from her for the past six years, and he knows she must have a lot of questions for him. 

“Oh my god!” Her voice reaches his ears again. “Does anyone know that Kid Danger is at my house?”

Henry shakes his head. “No. Not even Charlotte or Jasper. Or Piper. They probably think Kid Danger is dead.”

Y/N looks at Henry with wide eyes. How can he be so chill about the whole situation, she wonders. Then again, he must have gone through crazy things while being Captain Man’s sidekick.

She runs a hand through her hair, another sigh leaving past her lips as she looks up to her best friend. Without thinking much of it, she rests her head on his shoulder as she fiddles with her fingers. If she had paid any attention to that, she would have noticed how her best friend stiffened afterward, trying not to move an inch, afraid to disrupt her comfort. He knows how tired she must be, and he is aware that today is graduation day; the last day of high school ever. He knows how much she is looking forward to it. But here they were, at two fifteen in the morning, awake and unable to sleep because he’d knocked on her window at half past one. 

“Why do they think you’re dead?”

Her voice comes out as a sleepy whisper, and Henry isn’t sure he’s heard her right. But even if he didn’t, she has the right to know the truth. Perhaps there are some things he can leave out, but he owes her the truth; he knows that.

“Well… when I started being Captain Man’s sidekick,” Henry begins, “I didn’t have any superpowers. Then one day, there was this criminal, Drex. He escaped prison by accident and I found out he used to be Captain Man’s first sidekick. I obviously couldn’t defeat him when he came after Captain Man and me; I’m sure you’ve seen that video of Kid Danger getting spanked by Drex back then.” He pauses and Y/N hums, letting him know that she did see that video two years ago. “Anyway, because Drex had trapped Captain Man’s hands in a Nut Cluster machine and his head in a box, I had to take on Drex on my own, so he had his science genius to call on people from his weird country in order for me to gain superpowers– like Captain Man’s indestructibility.”

“Your hyper-motility, right?” Y/N asks him with a yawn. “I remember hearing about it on the news, when people started dumping rocks on their head because they thought Kid Danger had an incurable disease.”

Henry lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, but hyper-motility is actually super fast reflexes, like hand-eye and foot-eye coordination.” Y/N nods in understanding, allowing him to continue. “Anyway…” Henry goes on, “after facing Drex, twice, there was this guy, Rick Twitler, who wanted to destroy the internet forever by using a super fast and indestructible virus. Long story short, he tried to steal Captain Man’s indestructibility and he stole my hyper-motility. I managed to get it back for a few hours through science and a super fast bee, but Schowz had created an antidote against the virus that could also take back my powers forever if my skin touched it.”

“You touched it, didn’t you?”

“Not the point… but yes. I had to, to win against Rick Twitler’s virus. The vial had broken on the ground and I had to take off my gloves during the fight if I didn’t want to turn into an evil virus person. I had no idea where Captain Man was, and I had to stop the virus from reaching the satellites, so I gathered what was left of the antidote in my hands and I smeared it onto the virus, destroying it and losing my powers in the process.”

Henry sighs as he recalls his fight against Rick Twitler’s virus, wondering if he’d still have his hyper-motility had Captain Man been with him in the satellite dish when it happened. Y/N shifts next to him, removing her head from his shoulder as she brings a hand up to scratch her scalp, like she did every time she was thinking about something. 

“So…” she trails out, “you what? Lost your powers around six months ago? Right?” Henry nods and Y/N goes on. “You should have died tonight, when you crashed with the blimp…”

She states in disbelief. She stands up from her bed and begins to pace again. Henry doesn’t know what to say to her, because he himself has no explanation for what happened.

“And, who’s Schowz?” She asks her best friend then, raising a brow. 

“He’s a science genius that works for Captain Man.” Henry tells her. “He’s the one who called on the people who gave me my hyper-motility.”

Y/N nods her head, but Henry can tell she’s still thinking about something. Perhaps she’s trying to figure out how it’s possible that he’s still alive after the blimp incident. She lets out a soft sigh when she sits next to him again and rests her head back on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his own as she begins to fiddle with a corner of the frozen bag of peas. It’s not so frozen anymore, and Henry doubts it does much to ease the pain of the growing bruise on his side, but he doesn’t want Y/N to be mad at him if he discards it somewhere in her room. He can feel her body growing heavier as she leans into him, and when she groans he knows she is fighting against the sleep that threatens to overpower her. He wants to tell her to go to sleep, that he’ll sneak out of her room through the window, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He knows the cavemen that Drex had sent have destroyed most of his house, and he cannot just show up like nothing happened. He doesn’t know whether Captain Man, or his friends, or even his parents, have gone to see the remnants of the blimp crash onto Mount Swellview. He doesn’t know if they believe he’s dead, or if they figured he’s still alive after not finding his body amongst the debris from the crash.

“Maybe we should call Charlotte.” Y/N says eventually, cutting through the comfortable silence and pulling Henry away from his thoughts. “Maybe she has an explanation as to why you’re not dead. Or maybe we should call Captain Man’s sciencey guy; maybe he knows what’s up with you.”

Her voice fades in the background as Henry suddenly remembers: the Omega Weapon. It dwells on him like a meteor falling from the sky straight onto the Earth. The weapon they used to strip Drex from his indestructibility, stripping Captain Man of his in the process. When Henry used the Omega Weapon on them, it went off with a blast that knocked out everyone standing close to the weapon. He jerks forwards, dropping the bag of peas onto Y/N’s bed, and his best friend comes into focus when she yelps out in surprise and he looks at her, eyes wide in realisation. 

“The Omega Weapon.” Henry breathes out.

“The what now?” Y/N asks, somehow fully awake now.

“The Omega Weapon. It’s something Schowz built in order to take away Drex’s indestructibility, and I guess something happened when I fired it.” He pauses, extending one hand towards her. “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“Mine broke during the crash. Give me your phone.”

Y/N shakes her head and reluctantly gives her phone to Henry. She doesn’t even need to unlock it because she knows he knows her password. He has it memorized by heart in the back of his mind. She watches as he composes an unknown number and presses the call button. He puts the phone on speaker, and the pair of them can hear three ringtones before someone answers on the other side of the line.

“Y/N? How do you know this number?” Charlotte’s voice echoes on the line.

“Charlotte!” Henry says before Y/N can speak. “Is Schowz with you?”

“Henry? You’re alive? Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

“Charlotte, please! I need to talk to Schowz.”

The two friends can hear Charlotte groan on the other side of the line, followed by more chatters and questions, before a voice with a thick accent answers the phone.

“It’s me! Schowz, from work!”

“Schowz! It’s Henry. I need to know, did anything happen to the kids who were with us at the Swellview Airport after I fired the Omega Weapon at Ray and Drex?”

“Kids?!” Y/N whisper-shouts, hitting Henry’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me there were kids!”

“Not now Y/N, please.” Henry whispers back, pleading with his eyes.

“Eh, yeah, yeah. They have powers now.”

Henry can hear more commotion on the other side of the line, and he can imagine either Charlotte or Ray snatching the phone from Schowz’s hands.

“Henry?” It’s Charlotte again. “What happened? I thought you were going to steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”

“I did! It crashed!”

“And then he came to my house!” Y/N interrupted, standing up. “Dressed as Kid Danger!”

“How are you ali– wait… You know Henry’s Kid Danger, Y/N?” Charlotte asks, now realizing Y/N is, indeed, with Henry.

“Yeah, I do! He showed up at my window in the middle of the night, in his Kid Danger uniform! Now, before I go mad with more questions, is anyone going to tell me how Henry is still alive after crashing into Mount Swellview with a goddamn blimp?”

Henry winces when Y/N raises her voice, and he picks up on the worry and fear hidden behind her words. Yes, he did not tell her about his secret identity to protect her, and yes, she had told him she understood why he didn’t tell her, but she’s always been a better liar than him, and he realises just how worried and hurt and afraid she is about the whole situation. His chest tightens, and he swallows the growing lump in his throat as he watches her face fall when she looks at him. He sees the hurt, and the concern hidden behind her irises, and the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks. Instinctively, he reaches out for her hand and he squeezes it softly in comfort as he pulls her toward him, and she finally sits down next to him, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I think the Omega weapon gave you powers.” Charlotte says through the phone. “Like it gave powers to Miles, Chapa and Bose; the kids that were with you and Ray at the Swellview Airport. Did you glow somehow, before the crash?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I did.” Henry tells her, but he keeps his eyes on Y/N. “And a bird ricocheted off of me. Like I was protected from it crashing into me, somehow.”

“I think the Omega weapon gave you a force field.” Schowz’s voice echoes.

“And it kept you from going up in flames with the blimp.” Charlotte adds.

Y/N lets out a relieved breath; they finally have a logical explanation, of sorts. She closes her eyes as she lets herself fall backward onto her bed, her hand slipping from Henry’s. Opening her eyelids again, she looks up at her ceiling with tears brimming the corner of her eyes. Henry glances at her from above his shoulder, body slumping down from seeing the current state she’s in. He glances back at the phone, sighing when he can hear Ray in the background, shouting at God knows who for yet another person knowing about Kid Danger being Henry.

“I uh– I gotta go.” Henry says. “Thanks Charlotte. And Schowz. I’ll catch you later.”

He doesn’t give them the time to answer, having already pressed down onto the ending call button. He carefully puts his friend’s phone onto her bedside table, and he lets himself fall down beside her with a wince as the pain spreads through his body. He shifts in his spot as he lays beside her, and he slightly turns his head to look at her.

“You would have died, if you didn’t have a superpower…” Y/N whispers, her voice breaking a little. “You were willing to go down with the blimp, not knowing you actually had powers. You were willing to die, Hen… Why?”

Henry can see the tears silently escaping the corner of her eyes, falling onto her bedsheets. There are a number of possibilities as to why she would cry now, and not earlier; it could be the stress of the situation wearing off of her, or the sudden understanding of how dangerous his life actually is and she was left in the dark for all of it. Or it could be an entirely different reason, he actually had no idea why she was crying.

“Why did you have to be a hero, all of the sudden?” She asks and her voice waivers. “Couldn’t you just let Captain Man steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”

“I’m not graduating tomorrow.” Henry admits, ignoring her second question as he turns his head to look up at her ceiling, avoiding her eyes. “I didn’t get enough credits, because I was too busy saving this town with Ray– I mean, Captain Man. I forgot to have a life of my own.”

From his answer, Y/N can figure out two things; one: that Ray, Henry’s boss at Junk’N’Stuff, is also Captain Man; and two: he probably wouldn’t have chosen to crash down with the blimp if he were graduating high school. For some reason, however, she understands why Henry did what he did; that perhaps in the heat of the moment, going down as a hero was the best option if he weren’t graduating. She sniffles, rolling around her mattress as she props herself up onto one arm, looking at her best friend.

“You still have summer school.” She says after thinking about his answer. “You can attend to have enough credits to graduate. Like Piper. She managed to graduate tomorrow because of summer classes, right?”

Henry hums in response, the exhaustion of the events settling into every bone in his body. Tiredness seeps into his limbs, and he tries with all his might to keep his eyes open. He doesn’t want to fall asleep in his best friend’s bed when he was the one waking her up in the first place. Then again, he has nowhere to sleep. The Man Caves have all been blown up, and his house had completely been trashed down by the cavemen sent by Drex.

“You know what?” Y/N asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I’ll help you study for summer classes, so you can get your credits.”

“Why?” Henry wonders.

“There is no way I’m going to let my best friend be stuck in high school without me. Remember what we promised each other when we were four?”

Henry chuckles. Of course he remembers the promise they made to each other when they were four. How could he forget about it, when his mother had snapped a picture of this moment and he had it framed on his bedside table at home. He turns around on her bed, facing her and mimicking her position, resting his head in the palm of his hand as he smiles at her.

“How could I forget? You know I have that picture on my bedside table.”

“So… deal?” She asks, a knowing smirk on her lips. “You know it’s always going to be you and me, no matter what.”

Henry lets out a laugh, shaking his head at her antics. “Deal.”

ⓒ writerinlearning – 2025

[skippingthroughfields]

these days a lot of romance in books, TV, and film leave me a bit cold, which sucks as a lover of romance. there has to be something ~interesting there for me. I've been watching the day of the jackal and it's pretty entertaining so far. but the one thing I haven't quite been able to wrap my head around is jackal's love for his wife, nuria. the show clearly wants us to believe he truly loves her, even if he can't shed his assassin skin and lies like crazy to her. he spies on her. he dreams about her. he thinks about her constantly. even more so than the baby which I (and the show apparently) regularly forget exists.

the chemistry between eddie redmayne and ursula corbero isn't necessarily the issue even though it is middling. ursula certainly does the best with what she's got, which isn't much. but I always struggle when shows place us in an established marriage or relationship and tells the audience how much the two characters love each other, without really being convincing of why they go to the lengths they do because of this love. the jackal is a sociopath with a hundred different faces (though we spend quite a bit of time with him in his true face). he has no qualms whatsoever about killing innocent people to accomplish his objectives. that's established within 20 minutes of the very first episode. so what does it take for this murderer-for-hire to fall in love? why should we be so convinced of this cold-blooded killer's love for his wife? what is it about her that made him fall in love? and vice versa? the show doesn't even try to make us second guess this love. on some level, I'd be obsessed with a suave killer brought to his knees by a woman to the point where he starts a family with her. the deception, the two separate lives, the cat and mouse of it all. but everything about them is spectacularly bland.

throughout the series nuria is constantly questioning who she fell in love with. but who did she fall in love with? in episode 7 we get flashbacks of their first meeting, at a restaurant where jackal is a regular and where nuria works as a waitress. she's hot and vivacious and effortlessly charming. he's a mysterious loner who seems sweet. jackal takes a shine to her and later asks her on a date, to which she immediately says yes. and that's it. that's pretty much all of the flavorless context we have for their relationship. we're simply supposed to believe they fell in love with each other. she doesn't even make him work for the date. there's no push and pull there. she's not even a calculating golddigger or anything, just completely guileless. our favorite sociopath fell in love because she's just that charming? our charming waitress falls for this boring and rich-looking foreigner and that's it? and then we're told that she's completely trusting of him up until the ~turning point. ok. I don't believe the show is trying to pull wool over our eyes. they very much want us to believe there's love there. but there's just nothing convincing me of why these two characters love each other. this failmarriage is of no interest to me.

otoh, the connection jackal has with zina is compelling and sexy. this mysterious corporate shark archetype of a woman who dared to meet an assassin in person. who went to bat for this assassin even when her bosses were not convinced he was the man for their goals. who broke into this assassin's temporary lodgings and withstood his menacing energy. who wasn't afraid to yell and put pressure on this scary assassin. I'd be more obsessed if the actress was better at acting and there was actual chemistry between her and eddie. alas.

otooh, there is ALSO serious messy romantic potential with bianca. also a sociopathic liar. also a married woman (who we're also supposed to believe loves her husband. lol.) with a child. a woman who will do anything to catch jackal. a woman who has no qualms about using innocent people who get killed in the process (even if she does feel some degree of guilt about it). like the parallels are allll there. but she's black and we all know how that goes. in another series jackal would be intrigued and also as obsessed with this mi6 agent who somehow always finds him. sigh.

[macabr3-barbi3]

*gets on knees* hello,,,,, I am,, muy hungr y.......... priest vox one-shot PLEAAAAASE.. perhaps Vox has taken a more Catholic turn with Voxtech to capitalise on the fact that being redeemed has suddenly become extremely popular since the Hazbin Hotel was rebuilt ('TRUST US! with YOUR redemption'), he doesn't ACTUALLY believe in any of it of course but anything for a buck. Idk how reader would end up there LOL but I can't stop thinking about him using the most dirty religious euphemisms AND MAYBE USING A ROSARY TO BIND READER'S(OR HIS IF UR FEELING REAL FREAKY) WRISTS RUFF RUFF BARK BARK BARK I'm totally normal (I'm losing my mind)

HELLO FRIEND I LOVE THIS (AND YOU SINCE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE LOL)

disclaimer that I am not religious, I took most of these bible verses and things at face value- Vox doesn't care about using them correctly why should I LMAO

going to Hell for this one lads anyone wanna carpool?

Tags: blasphemy, priest kink, fucking in a church, improper use of rosary beads, confession that is not up to code, exhibitionism? if you squint? improper use of bible verses

HOT PRIEST VOX IN THE BANNER FROM @chefskjssart AND THE BANNER ITSELF FROM @fraugwinska I LOVE YOU GUYS ❤️❤️❤️

When you arrive in Hell as the result of a car accident, the first thing you see is a billboard- there’s a television on it, of all things, one with a face that wore a confident smirk under eyes that seemed to promise something. What exactly it was, you couldn’t tell, but the bright, flashing words next to him caught your attention, like you were sure they were supposed to: “VoxTek presents VeeLigion- TRUST US! With YOUR Redemption!”

You spend a couple days trying to get your bearings, and you determine that Hell fucking sucks- before falling you had been stabbed a grand total of zero times, and within 24 hours you’d had a knife in you twice. Which, TV did a terrible job at depicting stabbings; it wasn’t a soft gasp and a betrayed glance at the person holding the knife, it was a burning flash of pain and a scream that echoed in your head even after you stopped, even after the wound miraculously healed and left you with holes in your clothing that exposed unblemished skin.

TV also painted a pretty inaccurate portrait of Hell as a whole. Sure, you’d been stabbed a couple times but it wasn’t all fire and brimstone- everyone else mostly left you alone, a fox-faced woman had given you a bandage and a half eaten sandwich while you sat bleeding in an alley outside, there were bakeries and regular storefronts, and maybe a few more sex shops than you had been anticipating. But it was a whole society like it was when you were alive, albeit with maybe less rules and consequences.

You see more advertisements from the guy with the television head (Vox, you had picked up from the newspapers and magazines that littered the sidewalks), promises of salvation to be found in his newly built church in Pentagram City, redemption at a low cost. You had seen other ads, from a place called the Hazbin Hotel, but regardless of how different Hell was from what you had imagined, you still figured that the Devil was bad- his daughter couldn’t have been much better. And the Princess of Hell just didn’t catch your attention like Vox had; come on, his head was a television, what choice did you have but to look at him?

And it was no real surprise that you had ended up here, despite the years of Catholic school and nuns striking the fear of God into you when your parents had decided that you were too much trouble as a teen and shipped you off for a few years. You had done your time, did the prayers and shit with your skirt just an inch or two above the regulated length, and as soon as you had the chance you were out of there, back to the fun life you had enjoyed before…

Even if you did now have the voice of Sister Lucy in your head when you went down on someone, telling you that idle hands- and probably lips- should only be used in service of the Lord.

But Jesus, was some premarital sex really enough to damn you to this shithole? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to find your way to the center of the city to find that Church. Maybe the whole redemption thing was bullshit, but also maybe since it was a church they could give you shelter. A place to hide from the chaos on the streets while you figured out what the fuck you were going to do. You didn’t think you needed food to survive, really, but you would do almost anything for a hot meal in your mouth just for the comfort of it.

After getting directions- and another fucking stab wound, where the fuck were people getting these knives?- you make your way to the VoxTek church, and here’s another point against the Hotel. The thing is massive and gorgeous, blue and white stained glass that covered the building reflecting the red of the pentagram in the sky, Vox’s likeness front and center above the intricately detailed doors. It’s pristine, and perfect, and you’re suddenly very self conscious about the state of yourself, covered in blood with clothes that are the wrong brand of ‘holey.’ But you’re already here and on the steps, so there’s not much else to do but climb them and reach for the doors.

A tablet pops in front of you, ‘AdamAI’ engraved across the top. “Welcome to the VeeLigion church,” the thing says, the voice bored and haughty. “Entry starts at $5.99.”

“You fucking charge just to come in?” Maybe you shouldn’t swear at what looks like some sort of angelic device but fuck, really?

“A small price to pay for salvation!” It says, and little wings flick out of the sides to flutter, like it was trying to distract you. “Come on, don’t you wanna go to Heaven? It fucking rocks up there- Hell is dirty and smelly and gross, and-”

“Yeah people just stab you like all the fucking time,” you mutter, “but I don’t have any money.”

“Plan B then- you can sign this screen right here-” Some sort of contract appears on the screen, the letters too small to read properly, with a line at the bottom. “And the matter of payment can be discussed at a later date, at the owner’s discretion.”

“That’s a little suspicious.”

“You could go get stabbed again,” it snarks, and a pen pops out of the top. “Or you could go to that shitty hotel that doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, with Lucifer’s brat. Choice is yours.”

You have to admit that the pristine glow of the church seems more promising than what you had seen of the Hotel, so you sign the contract and the doors swing open without the creak of heavy wood- when you touch it on your way in you realize that it, too, is actually metal, manipulated to look like wood to sell the facade of the building. “Good luck,” the tablet chirps, followed by something that sounds suspiciously like “you’re going to need it” as the door slams shut behind you.

It’s eerily quiet inside the church, likely soundproofed since you can no longer hear anything that’s going on outside. There’s no one else inside, no priest or other sinners, the stage at the front of the chapel empty except for the obviously simulated sunlight that streams through the windows at the back. Despite the cash grab at the door, the place does feel divine. It’s quiet and peaceful, and beautiful beyond belief. You wander up to the front, looking around to see if there would be some sort of pastor or something to show you what, exactly, you were supposed to do- to give you answers, to show you some kind of mercy in this hellhole.

A door slams somewhere in the building, and gradually a voice gets louder as they approach the chapel. “-told you, Val, that the church was a waste of fuckin’ time,” they’re saying, “but did you listen? Of course not- you’re shoved so far up Angel’s twinky little ass lately it’s a wonder you have time to plan your fuckin’ ‘holy orgies’ or whatever the fuck you’re calling them-”

And there’s the television you had been seeing on the billboards and ads- Vox in the flesh, priest robes dripping off his frame, one of those little hats somehow attached to his flat head. Even with his eyebrows drawn down in irritation at whoever he was on the phone with, he still has an air of confidence and cockiness about him that you can admire- and you had seen some of the magazines declaring him the hottest in Hell, and know that he has clean lines of lean muscle hiding under those holy folds of fabric. He paces back and forth across the stage a few times, throwing insults and jabs into the phone in his hand, and then he looks up and finally notices you. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, eyes widening in surprise, and then- “not you, Valentino, Satan, fucking narcissist. Someone’s fucking here- yes, in the church- fuck it, no, I gotta deal with this.” And the phone is slipped into one of the pockets of the robe. His whole demeanor changes- his posture straightens, his eyes closing and his face rearranging into something softer, more peaceful as he looks down at you. 

“Welcome, lost lamb,” he says, and you could almost believe him if it weren’t for the glitch that crackles across his screen at the words. “How may I help to guide you today?”

“Um… I’m not totally sure,” you confess, and his eye twitches in irritation. “I saw some ads and I was curious about the idea of a church in Hell. If you can actually get redeemed here then, you know, I’d love to give it a try-“ 

You don’t even get to mention your almost ulterior motive before he fucking laughs at you, the sound echoing with the acoustics of the place. “Fuck, so you’re a real one then? Y’know how many people I’ve had sitting in these pews that don’t give two rats shit about redemption, just wanted to see the fancy new fucking building and watch one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell strut around in this stupid fucking thing?” He plucks at his robes, the fabric fluttering around his body. “And now I've got a real one. Imagine that. Okay!” 

He claps his hands together and a small bench emerges from the floor in front of the stage as he drops to sit on the edge of it, legs hanging off so his feet touch the floor. “Fucking kneel, then,” he says, gesturing to the cushion, “Don’t these things usually start with confession? I don’t have all day if you have like, a million sins to confess.”

“Oh, right.” This part at least you knew, even if it usually took place in a booth and the other person couldn’t see you. You hadn’t really been planning on confessing when you got here, but at least it was an easy part.

You watch him patiently, waiting for the usual blessing, until he stares at you expectantly. “Well?”

Guess you were skipping that, then. “Um, okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” He waves a hand at you; a silent ‘get-on-with-it’ if you’ve ever seen one. “It’s been… ten years? Since my last confession-“

“No fucking wonder you ended up down here, doll,” he mutters, head tilted towards the ceiling and not even looking at you, “you were one of those ‘Easter and Christmas’ church-goers, huh? And you thought that would be enough.”

“Hey, fuck you,” you snap, flushing at how easy you were to pin down like that, and his head snaps back down to look at you, an eyebrow raised like he’s fucking bored. “Aren’t you supposed to be here to help?”

“Does it matter? Besides, I’m new to the job; sue me for a learning curve. Come on- what sins are you confessing?” His screen brightens suddenly, a grin directed at you that steals your breath. “Was it something fun? You kill someone?” His eyes go hooded, expression lascivious as he looks down at you. “Impure thoughts, maybe? Impure actions?” His gaze lingers on your skirt before he meets your eyes again.

Your face heats- you’re very aware, suddenly, of the position that you’re in- knelt on the floor in an empty church, the priest as far from saintly as one could get and hot as Hell even with his TV head, his knees spread apart where he sits on the edge of the stage and you essentially between them. Images race lightning quick through your head- pushing his robes up around his thighs, leaning forward with your tongue out to show him just how impure your actions could be-

A bell rings overhead and you’re reminded that you’re in a fucking Church, even if it is one in the center of Hell. You had come here for help, not sex. You shove the thoughts back. “Can you just- be a normal priest, please? With the bible verses and shit so I can feel like this wasn’t a total waste of whatever I signed before coming in here.”

He sighs but seems to acquiesce, placing his palms on the stage and leaning back. “That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one! Give me one sec…” His screen changes, words and images flying across it at lightning speed while he taps his fingers on the floor under his hands, sometimes slowing on a particular passage, and it occurs to you what he’s doing- he’s searching the fucking internet for a bible passage.

“Ha! This should do-” His face comes back, expression serene, and he leans forward and places a finger under your chin to tilt your head up, closer to him now  than you would have expected. “I know how you feel, my child, tempted by the sins of the flesh,” he says in an exaggerated tone. “‘For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses.” He winks at you with that smirk of his back in place, “but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.’”

You blush but can’t turn away with his finger on you, keeping you tilted to face him. “‘Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.’ Is that what you’re here for, doll? Mercy?”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can see the way his eyes track the movement of your throat when you swallow. “Y-yes,” you stammer, and your voice is weaker than you would like, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “Mercy-” 

“In your time of need,” he offers, and when you close your eyes you feel his thumb trace over your cheekbone, his hand warm against your skin. “What do you need? Cause I’ll tell you- all flushed and trembling and sweet on your knees here? I don’t think a bible verse is gonna cut it, babe.”

He almost slides off the stage, dropping to a crouch so he’s level with your face. “Sir-” you try, and his grin is wide and dangerous.

“Father,” he corrects you, and if you weren’t already on your knees you would have fallen to them. “And I believe you still have to confess before we can move on.” He reaches into the pocket of his robes and pulls out something long and dangling- a rosary, you realize, and you can’t stop the flash of heat that rips through you despite the blatant blasphemy of what was happening. “Give me your hands.” And you do, helpless to refuse as he winds the beads around your wrists with the cross dangling between your arms as he finishes. He stands then, using a hand on the beads to pull you from the cushion and guide you forward on your knees when he sits on the edge of the stage again. You’re properly between his legs now, the fabric of his robes almost touching your nose, and he’s holding your bound hands atop one of his knees. 

“This is just to keep you focused,” he says when he sees you watching where he has them restrained in one hand. His other hand pets across your head, a finger briefly touching one of the horns that you had grown upon arrival. “Now then- tell me of your temptations, little lamb, and I’ll give you absolution. I’ll give you the mercy you want.” When he meets your wide eyes again, he winks. “Maybe something else, too.”

“Fuck, I’m- God, okay. Okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” You take Vox’s silence as a sign to continue, his hand still gently brushing through your hair, the other keeping a tight grip on the rosary beads. “It’s been ten years since my last confession.”

“Go on, my child,” Vox says, and fuck, it feels wrong that the words of a priest- regardless of how legitimate he was- are making your core clench, a strong jolt of arousal bolting through your body. “What brings you to confession today?”

You try not to tremble as you continue. “I have… behaved immorally in the past. And even now I’m having impure thoughts,” you whisper, and you hear Vox suppress a groan in front of you. “I- I know the Bible says not to fall prey to temptation, but it’s so hard to resist. I can’t stop myself from thinking about it- about what I’ve done. And about you.”

The fingers in your hair are gone, grip tightening on the one holding the rosary. “This is troubling indeed,” he says, like you can’t hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me what you’ve done- what you’ve thought about. What you want now. Be specific.” There’s a soft rustling of fabric before you, a whisper of air across your face as Vox moves. You make an inquisitive noise and he shushes you. “Keep your eyes closed, dear- imagine you confess to the Lord himself. Show him how earnest you are in your devotion.”

You let your face relax, brow going slack and keeping your face tipped up. You can see through your eyelids the shine of the sunlight through the windows, artificial but warming and holy nonetheless. And like this you ‘confess.’ “I’m thinking about you touching me- in s-sinful ways. Your hands on my skin the way that others have touched me. It feels good, I can’t help but want it…” You feel a little ridiculous even with the flush of your cheeks and the need overtaking your body.

“Fuck,” you hear Vox whisper, and there’s another faint sound of movement that you can’t place with your eyes closed. “How did these f-f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘t͖͖̠̬͛h̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́ sinners touch you?” His voice seems to fail him at the thought, a crackle in his vocals that betrays how much he’s invested in the moment.

“Like a harlot,” you say, and you hear a full groan escape him, a tug to the rosary when he leans a bit down towards you. His face is closer now; you can feel his hot breath as it ghosts across your lips when you speak. “They touched my bare skin- sometimes I lie awake at night and trace the path their hands have taken over my body, over my breasts, between my legs. I’ve let them fuck me, bent over tables and spread across beds, and God, I want more.” You let your voice take on a pleading edge. “I want it to be you- please, won’t you help me?”

You let your eyes flutter open, and the sight before you steals your breathe- Vox’s eyes are trained on you, his mouth hanging open with his face screwed up in pleasure as he fists his cock inches from your face, his robes drawn up over his thighs to jerk himself off in time with your confession. When he notices you watching him he smiles, all teeth and dripping saliva, looking more and more like the agent of damnation that he is than the holy man he’s pretending to be. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞t͖͖̠̬͛,” he growls, his vocals once again corrupted and fried when he speaks. “‘No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. G-G̯̯̩̙͆ͣ͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability-’” The last words are accompanied with a harder thrust of his hips, bringing him closer to the edge of the stage, the head of his prick nearly brushing your lips before its covered with his fingers as he continues to stroke. “‘But with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.’”

You know what he’s going for, but… “I think in this instance, ‘enduring it’ would mean not giving in to the temptation,” you murmur, and you let your tongue ghost over his hand when it gets within reach, just able to taste the saltiness of his precum on his fingers. “But I think I’m weak to it, Father- would you forgive me if I can’t resist?”

Static flashes across his screen for a moment. “Fuck,” he pants when he sees that you’ve kept your tongue extended, waiting for him. He loses the haughty, holy edge to his voice as his fingers tighten their grip, less of a stroke now to let the head of his dick tap against your tongue a couple times. “Can’t fuckin’ think straight like this, Satan- how am I supposed to keep this shit up when you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a devout whore praying for a cock in your throat,” he snarls, and releases the hand keeping hold on the rosary to cup your face. You waste no time in bringing your bound hands up under your skirt, shoving your panties to the side with trembling fingers to rub at your clit. The angle is all wrong, but any friction is good friction at this point, and Vox laughs breathlessly at the desperate way that you rock against your hands with your head held in his. “I might not be God but I can answer that fuckin’ prayer if you want.”

The way you shift to get a better angle to slide a finger into yourself brings you closer, your head resting more heavily in his palm, and you can’t resist giving him a wink- “Promise you��ll give me my absolution after?” You let your mouth fall slack, and groan around the length of him as he pushes past your lips, both of his hands abandoning their respective tasks to tangle in the strands of your hair and keep you still.

“I’ll give it to you, doll, I’ll fuckin’ give you a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛.” He guides himself in further, deeper, until the head of his dick is just bumping against the back of your throat, whorish whines escaping the scant space between your lips when he starts to buck his hips, sucking to the best of your ability while you ride your own fingers and try to work your tongue against the solid erection that’s taken up a temporary residence in your mouth. His hands fist in your hair and tug you closer, your nose bumping the sharp lines of his abdomen and the solid weight of his balls resting against your chin with every jerk forward. A particularly hard thrust has your gag reflex triggering, the channel of your throat convulsing and fluttering around the head of his cock while his head throws back with a moan.

Tears prick at your eyes- your orgasm is a distant, intangible thing, the pleasure from your fingers sweet but not even close to what you needed, whimpering and drooling around Vox’s cock in a way that echoed around the beautiful chapel. When you look up at him his eyes are wide and frantic, harsh moans falling from his mouth and rumbling through his body so you could feel it against your nose pressed into his pelvis the way you are. 

A hand slides forward to brush at your tears, a smile more befitting the devil than any kind of priest taking up Vox’s screen, red lines of what could be drool dripping off the sides. “Fuck, gonna cum- you want it, angel? Your a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎b͔͔̳͈̊̆ͥ͂͜͝s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡t͖͖̠̬͛i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥ?” You can’t speak with his cock filling your mouth so fully, so you nod the best you can and grind your hips down onto your fingers, still bound together with the rosary. He chuckles low, once again keeping your head still so he can pound into the wet heat you’ve provided to him, the muscles of your throat clenching down every time he pushes far enough back. “‘Repent and be baptized, e-every one of you-’” he starts, the silky skin of his erection sliding pleasantly over your tongue a final time, then he stills. His cock twitches, and there’s a jet of hot, bitter liquid spilling across your tongue before he pulls out completely. “‘In the name of J̸̡̡̟͑ͭ̄͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧs̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅụ̴̴̾̀͟͡s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅ Ch̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅt͖͖̠̬͛, for the forgiveness of your sins.’” There’s another pulse of cum that lands on your cheek as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to smear it on your skin and then dip into your mouth for you to suck it clean as his cock gives one final twitch, a weak spurt against your lips closed around his thumb. “‘And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,’” he finishes in his normal voice, that cocky smirk back on his screen when he finally pulls all the way back.

You lick your lips, rid yourself of the remnants of his release that you can reach. “Is that what that was? You don’t look much like the Holy Spirit to me.”

He groans looking down at you, the hand still in your hair petting almost affectionately through the strands. “We make do with what we have in Hell,” he says. His eyes flick down to your lap, where you still have two fingers poorly sunk into your pussy and are rocking back and forth on them. “Don’t worry, doll, you’ll still-”

He freeze, some notice popping up in one of the upper corners of his screen, and he shakes his head and groans as it clears away. “Quiet- someone’s at the door,” he murmurs, and takes his hands off you entirely.

You suppress a groan at the lack of contact,  fingers momentarily stilling and cocking an eyebrow at him. “How can you tell?” There’s no knock resounding through the building, no bells or chimes, and he holds a finger to his lips.

“I get an alert when someone interacts with the AdamAI. Just hold on a sec-”

There’s an audible gasp from the sinner that enters the church, and Vox looks down at you with a wicked smile. “Keep praying, my child,” he says softly, “and we’ll resume our discussion on the matter of your ‘repentance’ soon.” He stands to his full height and with a swish of his robes he’s gone, approaching the newcomer behind you and speaking in hushed tones- you catch something about a ‘private prayer session’ and resist the urge to snort, instead shifting a bit to get your thumb against your clit and rub soft circles. You don’t think you can cum like this but it's nice, sweet little zaps of pleasure that start at your core and echo through your body like the acoustics of the church you kneel in. You bite your lip to keep the sounds from escaping you as they talk, the low timbre of Vox’s voice making your body hum and tingle remembering the way he had moaned and clutched at your hair as he chased his release with your mouth around him.

Fuck, if Sister Lucy could have seen you now she would probably have an aneurysm. But its not her words echoing in your brain right now- it’s Vox’s soft “keep praying” that has your hands unable to stay still, your hips jerking minutely while you reach futilely for the edge of your pleasure, to tumble headfirst into it.

It takes a moment for you to realize that the Church is silent once again, and when you look up- and up and up, your head tilting all the way back like you’re searching for God himself in the rafters- Vox towers over you from behind, his eyes dark and hungry. He drops to his knees, a resounding crack on the floor as he reaches for you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat to keep your head tilted back, and a low growl rumbles from his chest when he feels you swallow against his palm. “Such a well behaved lamb, to stick to your prays so devotedly in the presence of others,” he whispers, his tongue curling over the shell of your ear, and now that you’re alone there’s no shame in the desperate moan that you let loose- the way he says ‘lamb’ is so sickeningly sweet and exaggerated that you know the word he wants to use is ‘slut.’ “What kind of shepherd would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?”

His other hand comes down to grab the rosary, pulling your fingers from the slick heat of your cunt and bring them to his mouth- his tongue curls around them, the lewd sound of him sucking the juices from your digits right next to your ear, causing heat to pool in your lower stomach. Once he’s satisfied, he hoists you up with his grip on them, spinning you so that you’re facing him and pinning you to the edge of the stage. “Thought the ‘baptism’ was my gift,” you say as he lifts your legs up around his waist, shoving your skirt out of the way and just tearing your panties off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the church. “You should keep your metaphors straight.”

“Come on, I’m fuckin’ trying,” he mutters, pressing his screen to your forehead so you’re breathing in the same air. “Didn’t Jesus say some shit like ‘choose words that bring peace, not conflict’ or something? Take that holy advice, stop poking holes in my sermon, and let me show you Heaven.” He leans in before you can respond to tangle his tongue with yours, and considering where you are and what you’re doing, kissing a television is hardly the weirdest thing to happen to you today. It’s pleasant, even, a light hum of static where your lips meet his, his tongue almost vibrating with concealed electricity as he licks into your mouth like he’s trying to taste his own cum in the back of your throat.

When he pulls back for your answer, you can’t resist the truth- “That was Buddhism,” you deadpan, and laugh when static crackles across his body, a renewed erection pushing into your thigh when he uses your bound hands to lay you flat on the stage. He fumbles with his robes to get them up and around his waist again, and the laughter dies in your throat as the silky smooth head of his cock bumps against your drenched folds.

“You know a lot about religion for someone that seems to only know how to be on her knees for one thing,” he murmurs, and it's both shame and heat that flashes through you at the words while he slides his length back and forth through your wetness, pressing lightly against your clit and retreating, teasing. “Let’s see how long you can keep that up while I’m fucking the thoughts out of that pretty head, hm? Gimme a Bible passage since you know so much, dollface.”

“I don’t have access to the internet in my brain like some people but I’ll do my be- ahhh, fuck-” Vox cuts off your sentence with a solid thrust of his hips, the tip of his prick finally slipping in, and he works it in slowly, letting you adjust to it a few inches at a time until he’s buried to the hilt in your wet cunt and breathing heavily against your neck. “Oh God-”

“Thought taking the Lord’s name in vain was a sin,” he breathes, and licks down the column of your throat. He pulls back a little, the drag of him inside of you a delicious burn before he snaps forward again, punching the air from your lungs. He maneuvers the fingers of the hand still holding the rosary to press the wooden cross into your palms. “Come on, angel, give me something good.”

It’s admittedly hard to think with the way that he pistons into you, hips angled just right to hit that sweet spot inside that you had been missing with your bound hands, his free hand digging bruises into the flesh of your hip. You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind- “‘A-All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for- fuck, for instruction, for conviction, for correction, and for training in right-righteousness,’” you manage through the pleasure that courses through you, and Vox laughs, the action causing his body to shake against you. 

“Something better,” he demands, still drilling his cock into your pussy, hard thrusts that make your vision waver and your breath catch in your throat- how he expects you to talk during that, you weren’t sure, but you would do your damndest as you search your memory for something else.

“Fuck, uhhh… ‘If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with pointing finger… and malicious talk, and if you spend yourself on behalf of the hungry-’” You lose focus on the words you can see behind your eyelids when the hand leaves your hip to press a clawed finger to your swollen clit, a firm circling that has you choking on the words before they can finish leaving your lips. A whimper escapes instead, and Vox’s grin is wide and hungry as he stares down at you.

“‘And satisfy the needs of the oppressed,’” he continues for you, “come on, little lamb, you know the rest.”

“‘Then your light will rise in the darkness, and your light become like the noonday.’” Every muscle is tense, waiting for the thread to snap as Vox continues to fuck into you like a man possessed, his tongue lathing over whatever bits of skin he can reach. You can feel the orgasm crackling like electricity down your spine, unsure if that’s a side effect of Vox’s half-machine body or just how fucking good it feels. Either way, the cusp of release has never felt like this before, like you might pass out from the strength of it, from how all consuming the pleasure is before the peak has even hit.

The pressure against your sweet spots- inside and outside- intensifies suddenly when Vox tilts his hips, pressing down harder and slamming his thick cock against that bundle of nerves inside, the wet sounds of your coupling all that you can hear over your voice and his grunts of effort. “‘The lord will guide you always; he will… s-atisfy your needs in a- in a- oh fuck, God, Vox-”

You want the face he’s making framed in the living room of wherever you end up living in Hell; he could almost be a real priest with the expression of worship that’s taking over his screen, looking down at you like you’re Heaven incarnate. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, that’s right; cum on my cock, sweetheart, a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧl͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, fuck-”    

It’s just as all consuming as you expected- even more so as you tip over the edge into blissful ecstasy, every part of your body clenching down, your hands on the beads, your legs around Vox’s waist, your walls around the hard length still pounding away at you. You’re not even a little embarrassed about the echoing of your cries as you cum, the sound bouncing off the walls of the church and coming back to you and Vox, who’s chasing his own release in the tight clench of your pussy. The lewd, wet sounds intensify suddenly, sharply, the evidence of your orgasm drenching the robes bunched around Vox’s thighs. A high pitched noise emits from him, and his screen goes dark when he follows you over the edge, hot pulses of heat into your slick cunt, walls fluttering and spasming and wringing every last drop of cum from him, resting thick and warm inside of you as his head drops down to your chest and the entire building seems to just power down.

You fiddle with the rosary beads in your hands, trying to see if you can get them undone on your own- and yes, there they go, a quick twist of the wrist and they’re sliding along your skin, your wrists sore where they had been digging in this whole time. His grip on the beads had slackened as well, so you pull out of his grasp and let your hands run down his body, properly touching him for the first time- and it was well worth the wait, even through the priest robes. His muscles felt firm to the touch, the skin of his arms soft where his sleeves had ridden up, and the hot air coming off his head when you traced your fingers along the ports and wires on the back of it was oddly pleasant.

“You keep touching me like that,” he mumbles against your chest, and you feel his dick twitch where it’s seated inside you still, “and you can be the one to explain to my business partners why power’s down across Pentagram City.” The building flickers back on slowly, the simulated sunshine once again streaming from the windows as Vox boots back up, a loading screen flashing on his face before it turns back into his eyes and mouth, quirked up at the sides while you run your fingers over his body and head. “Gimme like half an hour and we can go again without blacking out both rings of Pride, maybe.”

You laugh when he pulls out, collapsing in the space next to you, the stupid little hat tumbling off in the process while he adjusts his robes. “‘Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light,’” you quote. “Maybe a power outage will bring more people to the Church, you could play that up on your advertisements- then if we regularly fuck there’s a business aspect.”

His chuckle echoes in the chapel. “Where have you been all my afterlife?” He jokes, and his clawed fingers give yours a squeeze when they come down to your sides. “I know you’re probably half kidding but listen, I could use some of that religious knowledge if Val and Velvette insist on making me do this once a week- the fucking doesn’t always have to be a part of it, but-”

“Listen, if that offer comes with a place to sleep and a hot meal every once in a while I’m down.” You think back to the screen you had signed before coming into the church- “Shit, unless that tablet I signed means I don’t get a say? Guess I should have looked at it a little closer-”

“Oh, that.” He has the decency to look a little ashamed as he pulls something up on his screen, making a note before closing it again. “Sorry, just a contingency- if we didn’t have a way for financially challenged sinners to get here that would severely limit our target market so we added that contract as an option. Technically your soul is now owned three ways by the Vees as a whole until terms are settled, but we’ll renegotiate, figure something else out.”

“‘Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back,’” you quote at him- “you help me out and I’ll help you.”

“Deal.” He stands and pulls you up with him, and you place the hat back onto his head- it snaps into place with a soft click that you laugh at- “Magnets, babe, I work with what I have”- while he leads you to the back of the church to clean up and talk about where you would be going from here.

Bonus

You’re laying reclined on Vox’s living room couch a few days later, wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he pours a couple drinks for you. All things considered, going to the church that day had worked out well. You weren’t ‘dating’ Vox, but he was keeping you off the street, fed, and fucked, so you didn’t have much room to complain. Every once in a while you would go over some common Bible passages with him, try to play out a full confession so he could see how it was actually supposed to go to try and help with the church thing, but because of how you met you could hardly get out “forgive me, Father” before Vox was hard and pulling at your clothes.

He’s bitching about it now as he mixes things in glasses at the kitchen counter when his apartment door flies open and Velvette strolls in. “Vox, babe, the fuck are you doin’ at that fuckin’ church? Your ratings are absolute shite compared to the stand-ins we have and that should not be the fuckin’ case.”

He immediately jumps on the defensive. “Imagine that- maybe its because I’m not a real fucking priest? God forbid it take me a fucking minute to learn the shit.”

You pipe up from the couch, tipping your head back over the arm to look at Vox and Velvette upside down. “A good start would be not taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Traitor,” he hisses at you, and the demoness doubles over in laughter when static sparks between his antennae as he whips in your direction. “And you’re one to fucking talk- remind me how we met again?”

“You sure you wanna do that while your friend is here, Vox? I can live with the blasphemy of fucking in a church but I draw the line at full blown exhibitionism.” Velvette wipes a tear from her eyes while Vox’s screen tints pink. “And besides- we’re working on it, aren’t we, Father?”

Velvette’s irritated grumbling is ignored as Vox pushes her back out the door and approaches you on the couch, curling his claws into your hair, coaxing you to your knees for another confession.

[hiiragi7]

I truly believe it needs to be talked more about how like... many things that a lot of people consider gender-affirming relating to appearance including clothing, makeup, hairstyles and so on are not necessarily feasible for trans people with disabilities even if we want them.

I like wearing bras; they give me a sense of gender euphoria. At the same time, I have to be particularly careful with how long I wear them for and try to stick to keeping them very loose, because they trigger my chronic pain. I have degenerative disc disease, with the most severely affected area just so happening to be at T9-T10 - In other words, the worst pain in my back is sitting right about where the back of a bra sits. In my case it does not matter how tight or how loose whatever I wear is, unless it's a T-shirt it will trigger my back pain. My ribs also tend to be quite sensitive, again regardless of how loose I wear my clothing - it's any pressure whatsoever on that location, no matter how gentle, that triggers pain for me. I had the same issues when I used to wear binders back in highschool.

I love the look of makeup and I love how makeup looks on me, but it's also a sensory nightmare. Washing it off also often takes more energy than I have left to spare by the end of the day. Putting it on is also quite a lot of work for someone that is chronically ill & physically disabled.

The only underwear I ever wear is boxers, because those are the only kinds of underwear that are sensory-friendly for me.

Hair is also its own topic, and for quite a lot of disabled people it requires a level of maintenance that just can't be kept up with. Some disabled people can't care for their hair at certain lengths or at all; can't shower or wash their hair on their own; can't keep up with regular hair maintenance; can't do a lot of the "basics" of hair care, nevermind styling it or having it cut a different way. For some disabled people, having hair (either in specific ways or at all) also just isn't very compatible with their disabilities, such as sensory issues, trichotillomania, not being able to grow hair (due to either their disabilities directly or medication/treatments), or so on.

I'm sure there are many other things as well - others are welcome to add on, and I encourage others to talk about their own experiences with this topic here - this is just something that's been on my mind today.

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

The chi-swapped versions of the characters work by removing the larger chunk of the user's chi, but doesn't actually add anything that wasn't already there.

It's interesting how the things they say are genuine thoughts in the back of their mind or stewing in the corner of their hearts.

Heylin Omi

"When I tried to lead, no one would follow. When I tried to speak, no one would listen. Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me. That is where I choose to go."

"I have no time to rest. I must fight. If only I did not have to sleep. I could fight 7-24. Hyah! Hyah!"

"As long as I get to fight, fight, fight!"

Good Omi

"Hello, my wonderful friends!"

"Yes, but it is not bigger than the joy I feel towards all of you! If I had arms, I would give you all a hug. If I had legs, I would leap for joy!"

good Jack

"Omi! I missed you so!"

"I say go for it! I know you guys can't lose! Because you have good on your side! And when you have good, you've got the world on a string!"

"Wouldn't want anything to happen to my number one guy (Master Fung)! Mwah!"

"Oh, Jack. It’s so good to see you! No, no, no. You don’t wanna go in there. That’s where Hannibal Bean lives. The last thing you need are more bad influences."

"I’m afraid my evil side’s about to get into a whole lot of trouble."

"Bad Jack went to visit… Hannibal Bean! I told him not to, but does he listen to me? Nooooooo!"

Heylin Kimiko

"Once I have both Wu, it’s evil domination, baby!"

Good Wuya

"If I win, I’m opening a home for birds without nests."

I've talked at length about how you can see Omi's loneliness and isolation and the utter depths of devotion he's capable of in Heylin Omi, as well as the hyperactive bloodknight energy he always has. It also shows how much Omi really loves Chase. It shows us that deep down, all Omi wants is to be with someone who he feels loves, trusts, and believes in him.

And you can see the overwhelming adoration and love for his friends in good Omi, when he doesn't have his other half to stifle how much he wants to gush over them. This half of Omi doesn't even mind comments about the size of his head.

Heylin Kimiko reveals that world domination is apparently just in the back of Kimiko's mind on a daily basis. She's a rich kid so nothing too out of the ordinary there.

Good Wuya reveals that Wuya likes birds, which is consistent with how good she is Ying-Ying and how she played nice with Chase's crow.

But Good Jack probably reveals the most about himself, I think.

Jack apparently believes that good always triumphs over evil, and he's genuinely worried about how many bad influences he has in his life. He's somewhat fond of the monks and prefers Omi good rather than evil.

And there's Good Jack's attachment to Master Fung, "his number one guy".

I don't think Jack already had this admiration for Master Fung buried deep down, of course. I think this is another show of how Jack really wants to cling to an older role model in his own alignment.

Good Jack idolizes Master Fung in the exact same way Regular Jack idolizes Hannibal, Chase, and Klofange (until he found out Klofange was wasn't evil and idolized Dyris instead.)

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

once again, we've reached a new year, and while I can't guarantee a new me who might actually release new fanfiction with some semblance of regularity, I can promise that I will keep writing and posting as often as my life allows. I want to thank all of you who read, like, respond and especially reblog my work, and I hope that you enjoy anything on this list you may of missed, and keep enjoying the new work I keep on posting. happy new year everyone!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

interlude (ficlet) *** you steal a heated moment with bruce in the lab.

BUCKY BARNES:

keep quiet (ficlet) *** /// against his better judgement, bucky lets you seduce him in a public place.

warm embrace (ficlet) bucky takes pity on you in the cold.

CLINT BARTON:

appreciation (oneshot) *** /// you borrow clint's shirt and he shows you just how much he approves.

make your move (oneshot) /// you discover clint's real feelings for you and dare him to do something about it.

stay still (ficlet) clint comes to your aid after you're injured on the battlefield.

whatever you need (ficlet) *** /// after a mission gone wrong, clint gives you everything you need.

MARC SPECTOR:

bubble bath (ficlet) sometimes, self care includes bubbles.

starving (ficlet) *** marc has alternate plans for dinner.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

smile (ficlet) you distract natasha in the middle of a meeting.

PETER QUILL:

chilly (ficlet) /// you're not quite used to just how cold it is in space.

rom-com moment (ficlet) *** even a storm can't convince quill to keep his hands -or his feelings- to himself.

STEVEN GRANT:

raindrops keep falling (ficlet) a busted umbrella leads to a meet cute.

TONY STARK:

downpour (ficlet) *** tony has his way with you against a window as you watch the rain.

favor (ficlet) you convince tony to finally get some rest.

ink (ficlet) you surprise tony when he finally comes home to you.

missed you (ficlet) tony wakes you up in the middle of the night.

most people (oneshot) /// tony can't believe you're the kind of person who doesn't like hugs.

pride (ficlet) *** tony takes a lot of pride in what he does to you.

voice of reason (ficlet) in a reversal of roles, tony's the one to convince you to go to bed.

waking up with you (ficlet) *** tony has only one thing on his mind in the mornings.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

ladies first (clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader) *** /// natasha has strict rules when it comes to play.

plaything (tony stark x marc spector x reader) *** /// you invite an old boyfriend to help teach your new one a lesson.

SERIES:

just to be nearby (peter quill x reader) *** /// months after the battle of earth, peter is still wallowing in his loss of gamora. he begins to find comfort in you.

just to be nearby

closer still

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) *** /// after the snap, you volunteer to track down clint and bring him home. instead, you join him on his mission for blood and find yourself growing closer to him... prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - more coming soon

tag list: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @trekkingaroundasgard @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @ccbsrmsf1 @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @blue-chup @darsynia @katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji @rhymesmenagerie @gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @marvelwomen-simp @bombardia @bellarkeselection @hollymac79 @dragon-chica

[sunnyie-eve]

38 | It's Perfect

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

At home after unbagging everything, Matt goes to Dani's room to find her an outfit, "You aren't gonna give me any idea?" She asks walking into her room.

"Nope."

"It just hit me... How do you already know what you want to do for a first date?" She asks watching him freeze in place causing her to giggle, "Can I pick your outfit?"

"I'll let you pick it but we can't see what we choose for each other until it's time to get ready."

Dani nods her head rushing out of her room to go to his. Nick and Chris were confused to see her run by so fast. Curious, Chris gets up going to Matt's room to find her going through Matt's closet.

"What you doing?" He asks her.

"Picking an outfit out for Matt. I lost a bet in the car on the way home and I have to take him out to dinner tonight. He gets to pick my outfit as well so I asked can I at least pick one for him." She makes up a cover, "I can't believe I have to spend my money on him again. AND he wants an expensive dinner."

"When will you learn to stop making bets with him. You never win."

"Thanks for reminding me." She gives him a look since that was true.

"Do you get to see what he picks out for you?"

"Not until we get ready." She gets the whole outfit together and holds them as Matt enters his room.

"No looking!" He turns his back towards her so she leaves his room with the clothes taking them to her room hiding it in case comes back into her room.

The two take showers one after the other to get ready since Matt didn't want to go out super late. Entering her room she sees the outside he picked on her bed and she laughs a bit. While doing her hair and make up, Nick enters her room.

"You two are cleaning up too much for just a regular dinner."

"Nick, it's literally nothing. I don't know what he wants me to buy and it's dinner. I'm not gonna look like a mess. If he wanted me to buy him a steak they wouldn't let us have a table. Get what I mean." She gives him a look through her mirror.

"If you don't ever make a move on Matt, I need you to find someone else. Just so I don't get my hopes up."

"Well, get over it. It's not happening." She lies to him so he whines leaving her room.

Once she was finished she goes upstairs to see Matt on the couch, "How the hell did you somehow pick out the same fucking outfit?" He shakes his head at her.

"Honestly, I have no fucking idea how I did that. We were somehow on the same wave length or something." She laughs as Chris comes downstairs.

"You two are matching again?" He eyes the two.

"Unintentionally." They both tell him at the exact same time.

Chris's eyes widened and shakes his head, "I think y'all should spend less time together. You're becoming one. And I can't have that. I don't think I'll live long with two Matt's."

"What you don't want to be quadruplets?" Dani jokes.

"We basically are." He goes to get a drink, "Just leave already for your dinner. Matt get something expensive."

"We should get going now that we're both ready." Matt gets off the couch.

"Do you want anything?" Dani asks Chris as they head for the car.

"Nah, Nick and I will order something. Thanks though."

Once the two were in the car, they look at each other then started to laugh, "Do you feel odd?" Matt asks her,

"Actually, yes and no. Do you get what I mean? This is normal for us but it's the reason this time." She explains a bit and he knew what she meant and agreed.

"Now, put this on." He holds out a blindfold.

"Are you serious?" She looks down at it.

"Yep."

She takes it from him and puts it on, "I feel so stupid."

The ride wasn't too long and when they got to where their date was Dani asked if she could take off the blindfold. Matt tells her yes and she sees they were at Dave and Buster's causing her to laugh.

"I feel like this is a perfect first date for us." She gives him a smile.

"You aren't disappointed?" He was a bit nervous.

"I get food and games, Matt. Like I said, it's perfect."

Inside they decide to eat first and order pizza, which was no shocker for them. While they eat Dani takes a picture of Matt as he smiles holding a slice up. He even does the same with her and her slice of pizza.

"You ready for me to kick your ass at games?" Matt gives her a big smile.

"You aren't gonna let me win on our first date? Wow, some gentleman you are." She laughs at him, "Let's go!" She jumps up and they have a speed walking race to the arcade. "I do appreciate you using your money. Even though I'm capable of using mine to play."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dani."

They play a few little games without getting competitive but as soon as they start playing against each other they have a lot more fun. "Where the hell did you come from?" He shouts a bit as they were playing a Mario Cart Race. "No, no, no." He reaches over to turn her wheel.

"Hey, back off!" She smacks his hand away as she wins the race, "Ha, loser!"

"Oh, really? Let's see you beat me in basketball then." He motions over to the hoops.

"I won't even make it over the plastic. That's unfair." She whines as he gets up going over to it, "You suck ass." She follows him and of course he got the higher score.

"Don't pout. You have won more games than me. Let me have this one." He wraps his arms around her making them walk over to a different game.

When they started to get tired they do one last thing before heading home which was the photo booth. They just hoped that they would get good backgrounds for their photos. First; Dani gets on Matt's back and they both make a funny face. Second; Matt wraps his arms over Dani's shoulders leaning down and they both smile. Third; they both pose like they were gonna fight each other. And the fourth was them standing super close with Matt smiling down at Dani holding her face in his hands while she smiled up at him.

By the time they got home, Nick and Chris ask how dinner was and how much did Matt make her spend. They just flip it saying he made her spend a shit ton at Dave and Busters. As they each go to their rooms to change they also place their photos on their computer desks.

"Nick went to bed because he has a headache and Chris went to go play Fortnite." Matt tells Dani as she comes up the stairs joining him in the kitchen.

"Thank you for tonight. I had fun." She nudges him as they stand next to each other messing with their drinks.

"You're welcome. Was it the best first date you ever had?" He nudges her back.

"It was."

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Car Hookups

Pairing: College AU! Oboro Shimurako x Fem! Reader.

Summary: You and Oboro regularly meet up late in his car for sex.

Warnings: Smut, Car sex, Oral sex (make receiving), Intercourse (P in V), College AU, Casual sex, Protected sex (the second time I've remembered to use a condom in my works), Slight hair pulling, Reader sends Oboro a nude and Oboro jacks off to it, Masturbation, Oboro and Reader smoke weed, So sex whilst on drugs?

Writing Time: 40 minutes.

Word Count: 930.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 12.

A/N:

Not the first time an imagine of mine has turned into a fic. Oh well. I love Oboro and would love to write for him more so please send requests for this boi! Car sex is hot so I'll definitely be writing this again, I can't believe I haven't before. I purposely didn't add Oboro's exact dick size here because it's supposed to be the reader's idea of the perfect size, which is different for everyone.

Here are my other Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

It had become normal now, leaving your dorm late at night to run out and meet Oboro in his car for a dicking down.

This had become a regular thing for you two. Having sex in the middle of the night in his car. He would text you around 11pm asking if you was busy or available to meet a few blocks down from campus.

You had always said yes and ran down there to meet him. You couldn't quite remember how this started but it's not like you was complaining. Even if you knew that your roommates knew exactly what was up.

You weren't exactly subtle leaving in the middle of the time with just your phone and clothes on your back and coming back about two hours later with your clothes and hair all messy.

It was a great stress reliever for the both of you. You had been stressed out a lot with all the assignments you had and Oboro was the same but also with all the hero training too.

When you two would meet up Oboro was always in the driver seat smoking a blunt. He happily past it over to you when you got in next to him and you two would get high before the main event.

When you indicated you was ready, Oboro would eagerly pull down his pants and smile at you. His dick was beautiful, you thought. The perfect size, thick and veiny. Just looking at it made your mouth water and your pussy clench. You would get to work immediately, leaning down and putting him in your mouth.

Your head would bob up and down quickly as Oboro finished off the blunt, sighing the smoke up into his car slowly. You knew it was the best feeling for a guy ever. Smoking a joint whilst getting head. You was happy to be the one to give that kind of pleasure to Oboro.

You could tell Oboro was about to let go inside your mouth when he started gripping and pulling on your hair slightly whilst groaning loudly. You sighed as you pulled his erection out of your mouth and he whined.

You pulled the pretty much finished the blunt from his fingers, took the last puff and threw it out the window before climbing into the back seat.

Oboro was eager to join you. He would help pull your clothes off and lay you face down into the seats. He pulled the wrapped condom from his pocket and had you tear it open with your teeth before chucking the wrapper somewhere and pulling the rubber down his length.

Once you were both ready, Oboro would push inside and give you a night to remember. Lots of skin slapping and moaning. The windows would be steamed up in no time and the car would be shaking and grabbing the attention of anyone walking by.

You and Oboro would have to go multiple rounds in back. Just to make the most of the condoms and space you both had.

Oboro's aftercare is beautiful. He would light you up another blunt and cuddle you in the back seat. Even give you a small back massage because he knew how uncomfortable laying down on the back seat was. Also rub your head if you had head butted yourself due to the lack of space.

You'd definitely have to rub his head too, there's no way his clumsy ass didn't bang his head whilst fucking you in his car.

Oboro never failed to ask if you wanted to go eat before he dropped you back to campus, even though you always said no. He'd also if you wanted him to drive up closer to your side of the campus so it wasn't just a long walk for you. You'd say no again, because if he did that it would be a longer walk for him seeing as his dorm was on the other side.

You would walk back to your dorm with a giant smile of your face. It was dark so you was sure no one would notice the cum on your face and in your hair and honestly you was right. With how dead it was and how fast you was to jump in the shower afterwards, nobody saw your filthy 'freshly dicked down' look.

Before stepping into the shower, you send Oboro a photo of yourself. Completely nude, in front of the running shower and covered in cum which was now brightly lit from the bathroom light.

He took till after you was done in the shower to respond. You knew he was getting off to your sexy picture.

His text back was, "When are you next free 🙏🍆💦?"

[fangirleaconmigo]

for 'I can't believe it's canon', what about Jaskier/Dandelion's youthful looks? I know it's common fanon to make him at least part elf or fae or some other type of creature to explain the longevity, but i think in canon he's just like that? Babyfaced?

Hello dear! Ok, so,

Dandelion's looks and longevity/(and potential elven lineage) in the books, now with English and original Polish versions.

Alright, in order to answer this ask, I conferred with the wonderful and helpful @cherrypoison1889, who is Polish and has the books and is willing to indulge my obsessive absurdity.

(In my post about Geralt and Religion, I put out a request for any Polish fan of the books who wouldn't mind me bothering them with silly and ridiculous questions occasionally to get in touch. Cherry was kind enough to dm me.)

Basically, my meta has powered up. XD I now have a partner in crime. I am going to include our conversations about the words used in the original Polish and in the English translation to describe Dandelion.

We are just having very silly fun here, this isn't academic or anything pls my god, if you want academic or authoritative consult a doctor (phd in languages and whatnot). This is just fun, that's all.

Ok, so we know Dandelion looks young for his age.

In The Blood of Elves, which takes place AFTER the first two short story collections, Djikstra says that Dandelion looks like he is in his late twenties, even though he is in his late thirties. Here is what he says.

"...I know you're almost forty, look almost thirty, think you're just over twenty, and act as though you're barely ten."

So he looks a good ten years younger than he is and This is in Blood of Elves, which for TWN fans is around S2.

We also know he is a 'pretty boy'.

Dandelion is called pretty, by the narrative and other characters.

When Angoulême is being interrogated in The Tower of Swallows, and she is asked who Geralt is traveling with, she describes Dandelion like this....

"...a comely fellow called Dandelion, who's a troubadour, and carries a lute."

So she uses the term comely, which in English is typically usually used to describe women. I think that's the first time I've heard that word used to describe an adult man. Here's how Oxford dictionary defines it:

Comely: pleasant to look at; attractive (typically used of a woman).

So to me, this implies a pretty boy and yes the baby face.

I asked Cherry about what the Polish word is, and here is their answer:

Angouleme calls Jaskier "Przystojniak" in Polish, which is colloquial of Handsome Fellow (see also the word Przystojny, which means Handsome). This word is generally used only to describe men, but has been, in the past, also applied to women

So, there is some subtle gender-y stuff going on in that translation, but either way, he is considered good looking.

Then I asked Cherry about whether Dandelion is really often mistaken for an elf. There is a passage in the English translation that suggests that he is, but the wording in English is a bit ambiguous and slightly awkward.

In the process, Cherry and I found that there is a word in that section that changes pretty significantly in translation, suggesting again that he is very pretty.

Dandelion and longevity or elven lineage:

As far as his longevity, there is never at indication that he is part elf except that sometimes he is mistaken for an elf. The English translation implies that this is because of his style, but the original Polish implies it is his pretty face as well.

In Baptism of Fire, Geralt and Dandelion are in a forest, caught in a thunderstorm. They happen near a group of men who are waiting to meet elves and the men call to them:

"Over here, Master Elves!"

Geralt is not surprised by this mistake, as visibility is low, and they are both wrapped in grey elven mantels. Also, apparently, this is a regular occurrence for Dandelion. The book says:

"As far as the foppish Dandelion was concerned, he was regularly mistaken for an elf or a half-elf, particularly since he had begun wearing his hair shoulder-length and taken up the habit of occasionally curling it with tongs."

Ok, so, the English translation uses the phrase 'as far as...Dandelion was concerned', which could mean two different things. It could mean "regarding Dandelion," or "according to Dandelion." So I asked Cherry what it says in Polish.

fangirleaconmigo

So that phrase in english could basically say that dandelion WAS regularly mistaken for an elf

OR OR OR

it could mean that he CLAIMS he is regularly mistaken for an elf

cherrypoison1889

So, in Polish it is that Dandelion is often mistaken for an elf or half-elf.

fangirleaconmigo

ok, so it isn't that he claims it, but that he IS mistaken for an elf.

ok perfect. thank you.

cherrypoison1889

As in, it's other's opinion that he looks like an elf

Then, Cherry asked me about the word foppish, and we realized that the original word in Polish has quite different connotations!

Foppish, in English, generally refers to a man who is "concerned with one's clothes and appearance in an affected and excessive way." (Oxford dictionary)

So, an English speaker sees this word as a commentary on Dandelion's vanity and clothing. But actually the Polish word is different. Here is what Cherry said:

cherrypoison1889

In Polish it's "Gładysz", which means someone with a smooth, unblemished visage (see also the word Gładki, which means smooth)

fangirleaconmigo

the word they translated to foppish?

cherrypoison1889

Yep, that's the word. So, 1 count for Dandy being called a pretty pretty boy <3

fangirleaconmigo

haha that's awesome thank you

cherrypoison1889

So in english, you could say he's described slightly more pejoratively?

fangirleaconmigo

foppish it's less about his attractiveness and more about his own vanity or obsession with appearance.

just stylish and vain basically

you could see that negatively, as interest in appearance is often looked down upon in men, (eta: unfairly of course, in macho cultures, not by me obviously) but not everyone does see it as negative. but yes, it has more potential for negative implications

cherrypoison1889

Just looked it up in a dictionary, apparently Gładysz also means someone who is nice, i.e. kind

So in Polish it's just he's a sweet pretty boy uwu

fangirleaconmigo

ah interesting! so the original word has better implications all around

that's so cute

cherrypoison1889

Baby boy baby

So, there is no conclusive evidence for Dandelion being part elven, other than just the fact that he is mistaken for one. He is a pretty pretty boy who looks young for his age.

But since he looks like an elf, there's a bit of fertile ground to headcanon it. It's not canon but it's a reasonable use or extrapolation of canon! Would he even know if he were like a quarter elf? Who knows? We don't even know where Lettenhove is. Go crazy!

So, TWN accidentally not aging him turned out to be not too 'off canon'. And it is no surprise that he is often head-canoned as part elf.

Actually I think Hexer actually makes him part elf as well. Hell, I make him part elf in most of my fics.

So there's no canon evidence? But it's not an outrageous thing to headcanon or anything.

THANK YOU CHERRY FOR DOING THIS WITH ME. IT'S SO FUN BEING A NERD WITH YOU ABOUT TRANSLATIONS.

[caesarinsalata]

A List of My Headcanons for Edward Elric: Full Throttle Edition!

What I mean by the subtitle, is what I think happened in the parts of the story, between, that weren't shown. Like what happened during their travels and locations they went too or things they did that are NOT in canon

Share your thoughts if you share any Headcanons with me or have any ideas to expand upon these, because I feel these are topics and ideas that are so interesting to ponder!

Onto the List!

(I'm adding a break cause this post is VERY wordy~)

The precursor to the rest to "set the scene":

HC 1 - Ed does NOT have a sexist or elitist bone in his little body!

This is something EVERYONE knows about him. Given the plethora of female role models in his entire life, he grows to respect and/or fear women. He treats everyone equally and bases his opinion on them based on their actions.

As well as despite having a fat pocket full of cash because of his status, it never goes to his head. He happily gives his money to those that help him. He sometimes uses his status to get what he wants, but not always for selfish reasons. It's usually to help his cause or someone else.

HC 2 - Edward wore Winry's clothes when he was hiding out in Resembool waiting for her and Al.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but these boys burned EVERYTHING they owned. Maybe except for what Ed carries with him in his trunk, whereever that thing may be on the regular basis no one knows. But! I'd like to believe that after the incident and the time skip, Ed most likely didn't have ANY of his original belongings, right? I mean yeah, he could go to fabric stores and transmute himself some stuff while passing towns. At the same time, he probably couldnt just walk into a store or town very often for fear of being recognized because of being a fugitive at the time. He could always have his big strong body guards go get him clothes, but they don't understand his style, so he wouldn't ask, right? Besides, what's the fun in that?

I believe, that while he was waiting in Resembool and Pinako told him to go take a shower, because imagine how dirty and stinky they'd be traveling in the forest and by night for days?? I feel she would've given him Winry's clothes, to change into.

And you can very well argue 'His clothes look like they're made for men. They aren't women's clothes. They aren't the same size and Eds grown, they wouldn't fit!' Ah! But what if, he just transmutes them to better fit his shoulder width and leg length?

That's what's fun about this thought, he could very well still have clothes at the Rockbells and just transmutes them bigger when they don't fit by combining fabrics. But if he did in fact burn everything he owned in the fire, he'd have to use something for material for clothes when he's under the radar.

But if he didn't wear Winry's clothes, what do you think he grabbed to transmute himself some clothes while down in Resembool? If he doesn't transmute himself clothes in hiding, then what if he uses Pinako's sons old clothes or old clothes from hohenheim? Pinako's bound to have clothes laying around her house from all the boys running around.

HC 3 - Ed PREFERS his hair up (braided or tied) over down.

Okay, so hear me out....if you put aside the fact that he obviously wears it tied back for convenience purposes because of being very mobile and active. BUT! At the same time when you think about when Ed comes back after the time skip and he reads the note of the description they're looking for: Red coat, blonde w/braid, and short. And he says: "Guess I'm stuck with this look for now..." It makes me think:

Obviously, he cares about his looks, right? Not in a selfish way, but he cares about his appearance and he feels confident in his old red and black attire with his signature braid. But he can't have that right now because he'd be easy to spot.

So, Ed's OKAY with his hair being down, but only if he's not doing anything. As soon as they get caught and he's carried to the car, he puts his hair up. It would just get in the way.

But like I said, I believe, he just prefers it being up, especially when he's doing something. In this instance, since he cant braid it, he just puts it in a ponytail.

Which this preference for his braid makes sense later when he's fighting Pride, cause it's in a braid again. So he obviously feels he looks better with the braid.

But when he changes it to a ponytail when he's older is probably just for mature reasons so he looks older. Plus he's letting it grow, so it's harder for him to braid when it's much longer than his shoulders, so I feel he's just like 'Fuck it, ponytail it is!'

Before this post gets too long, I'll stop here and maybe make continuations as I think of them. Feel free to expand upon these ideas or tell me your ideas! I love delving deeper into character personalities and properties they have.

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 71

Welcome back to my allover-the-place-upload.

Masterlist | AO3

Chapter 71: Guarded

The squad is meticulous as they unload their gear from the Havoc Marauder, but their attention is particularly focused on Orion's belongings. Tech takes extra care to ensure that Orion's toys, clothes, and bedding are all thoroughly cleaned and sanitized before they bring them into the barracks. He knows all too well the lengths the Kaminoans might go to in order to obtain a sample of Orion's DNA, and he's determined to thwart any attempts to invade their privacy.

Crosshair and Echo assist Tech, inspecting each item carefully to make sure nothing seems out of place or tampered with. Meanwhile, Hunter and Wrecker stand guard, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings to ensure they aren't being observed by any prying Kaminoan eyes. Once they're satisfied that everything is in order, the squad carries Orion's belongings into the barracks, making sure to keep them well-hidden from any potential intruders. They may be on Kamino, surrounded by those who see Orion as nothing more than an experiment, but within the confines of their barracks, he is cherished and protected like family.

As the squad settles into their usual spot in the mess hall, the atmosphere is tense, with the usual murmurs and side glances from the regular clones directed towards the members of Clone Force 99. Tech, holding Orion close, is acutely aware of the stares and whispers. Echo, always one to try and diffuse tension, strikes up a conversation about the latest battle. "Did you see how the droids were set up on the east flank on our last mission? It was textbook tactics."

Crosshair scoffs. "Textbook for droids, maybe. They were predictable." Wrecker, his mouth full of food, grins broadly, swallowing quickly. "Predictable means easy to smash!" Tech, trying to stay focused the conversation, shifts his focus to Orion, who's captivated by the movement of his own fingers. "Look at those tiny hands, Orion. You're going to be a genius like your dad, aren't you?" Echo turns to look at his nephew. "He's definitely curious, that's for sure."

Just then, one of the regular clones at a nearby table makes a snide remark loud enough for the squad to hear. "Can't believe they let the defective clones breed. What's next, a whole army of 'em?" Crosshair's eyes narrow, his patience wearing thin. "Watch it, reg."

But before anyone else can respond, Orion, seemingly oblivious to the tension, does something unexpected. With a determined and curios glint in his eye, he extends his tiny hand and, with surprising accuracy, flips off the clone who made the remark. The mess hall around the tables falls silent as everyone processes what just happened. Tech, caught between amusement and concern, leans in close to Orion. "Hey buddy, we don't do that, okay? It's not nice."

Echo, always the voice of reason, interjects. "He's just a baby, Tech. I don't think he knows what he's doing." Tech nods in agreement but still feels it's important to reinforce good behaviour, even at this young age. However, Crosshair has a different take on the situation. “Orion knew exactly what he was doing, sending a clear message to the regular clones about who's in charge.” Wrecker, never one to miss an opportunity for a laugh, grins broadly. "Ha! That's our boy!"

Hunter, weary of the constant tension, simply wants a peaceful meal for once, free from any drama or unexpected gestures. With a sigh, he digs into his food, hoping that the rest of the meal will pass without incident.

Chapter 72

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd @sskim-milkk @heidnspeak

[fitgirlfemdom]

After reading the other guy's post that you published and your own about small dick humiliation, I wanted to tell my own story, and I hope you'll like it. Part of it is similar to the other guy. In my early 30s, I was a gym rat, and while I wasn't bulking up, I was lean at 160-165 lbs, and I was just shy of 5 inches. I started dating a girl and then a storm hit that knocked out power for close to two weeks, and between those two things, my gym days were over. Once my routine got throw out of wack, I never recovered. I'm in my early 40s now and weigh around 210-215 lbs (I've been in that range for a few years now), and I've lost nearly an inch of length. I'm barely over 4 inches now. Between the weight gain and the loss of length, sex sucks. It's a huge part of why I turned to gooning.

As far as my size, I've always known that I'm on the smaller side, but it didn't become a kink for me until OCT or NOV of last year. I actually used to post cum tributes for years, and never once got a negative comment on my size. Anyway, I was chatting with this girl on Discord and one of the things we bonded over was exhibitionism/public nudity. It's something I've never been into doing myself, but seeing girls engage in it is super hot, and she would tell me about some stuff that she's done, or we'd watch stuff together. One day, we're chatting, and I mention that I'm in my backyard. She asks for proof, so I send her a pic of my yard, and she tells me to strip. I was immediately turned on and there's a small area of my yard where I could get away with it without having to worry about any neighbors seeing me, so I recorded me stripping. My heart was beating like a jackhammer and I sent the video. Her first comment is, "damn, you have a small cock." I was absolutely crushed, and it broke something inside me. I wasn't expecting her to tell me it was the hottest thing she had ever seen, but I guess I was expecting a little bit of validation. "Nice job," or "I can't believe you actually did it," something like that.

Since then, small penis/dick/cock humiliation has become a major kink for me. I've had dozens of girls online degrade me after I send them a pic or video. I've gotten everything from laughter to mean comments to poor ratings. I have a few regulars that I chat with that are absolutely brutal towards me, and I love it. I reblog captions and use the #small dick humiliation hashtag on my blog. You mentioned in your post about a guy that jerks off with only two fingers, and I do that now. A couple of different girls have encouraged me to do it, and it feels so humiliating and looks so pathetic when I send them videos. At this point, two of my biggest fantasies are to experience SPH in a group chat, and IRL.

You had said that you wished more of your inbox messages were like that other guy, so I hope this fits that.

YES!!! MORE SMALL DICK INBOXES!!!

yes, for some reason, some of us girls find guys jerking off with only two fingers really hot in a pathetic way. it's mainly because it's how we play with our clits, and seeing a guy do it is like watching him wear heels and put on makeup--its so emasculating. i love it.

right now, all i need is a small dick <4in gooner on his knees jerking his little cock while trying his best not to "nnnghhh" and cum in 30 seconds in front of me. i need a pathetic gooner like that begging me to let him cum and calling me mommy while he does it. also i need a zero sugar smirnoff ice. preferably pink lemonade flavor. and maybe a cigarette.

imagine sending your pathetic dick pic to a girl and she adds you to a gc with all her friends, just so they can clown on you for being a degenerate pervert. imagine them sending audio messages, laughing and making jokes at your expense, asking with slight curiosity if you can even fuck anything with that. them asking if companies make condoms in that size, and if you're even fertile. imagine them thinking that's not enough, and forcing you to meet up with them IRL, lest they leak your unsavory pictures online. you get locked in chastity and forced to pleasure these girls for the rest of the night, whether that be through your mouth or your hands, while they spit and laugh at your pitiful dick.

that gives me an idea for a new post. AGHHH thank you for this

[l1tw1ck]

Vaporize: Claiming Diluc

Bottom!FTM Diluc x Top!Foul Legacy Tartaglia

Diluc gets taken to one of the harbingers

☆ Word Count: 739 ☆

↳ [Part One] Summary: Diluc gets corrupted and turns into the Fatui's whore (Not necessary to read this)

↳ [Event Request] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Past Non-Con (Not mentioned), Size Kink, Cunnilingus, Womb Fucking, Mind Break, Creampie

"He's what?" Tartaglia's eyes widen. "Bring him to me, now."

Tartaglia couldn't believe the words he just heard. Diluc, Master Diluc of Dawn Winery, and lesser known as the Darknight Hero, has turned into a cock slut for the Fatui.

Diluc stumbles into the room, naked. He was pulled away just before he met with his first Fatui soldier of the day. His body has a lot of markings from being manhandled.

"So, this is what you've been reduced to." Tartaglia frowns.

"Ho- how big are you..?" He asks, a lopsided smile on his face.

That's right, Tartaglia recalls, Diluc doesn't like just any size. He likes it big. And while the harbinger is above average, he knows Diluc won't be satisfied with his regular form.

"Very big." He says before going into his foul legacy form.

Diluc trembles at the height difference, eyes focused on his crotch, a soft gasp leaving his lips when he sees his length in all its glory. He almost orgasms just from being picked up.

The harbinger spreads Diluc's legs apart and drags his long tongue up his wet cunt. The red head twitches in pleasure, legs shaking as the harbinger teases his entrance.

"Pl- please-"

Tartaglia slides the slimy appendage inside the other male’s wet hole, exploring his insides with it and making Diluc squirm. He throws his head back, messy red locks falling back with him, and whimpers. He clenches around Foul Legacy’s tongue, gushing slick. He finds Diluc’s pleasure spot, causing the male to cry out in pleasure, his legs shaking violently.

He continues teasing that spot, reveling in the way Diluc reacts. “Gon- gonna come~!” He exclaims, eyes rolling back as he squirts on the harbinger's tongue.

Tartaglia slides his tongue out and positions Diluc over his hard, leaking, and monstrous length. He moves him down onto his cock, the tip struggling to enter despite the constant sex he's been having. He wasn't at all prepared for Foul Legacy.

Diluc chokes out a gasp as the harbinger's cock finally pushes inside, instant pleasure coursing through his veins. His entire body shakes as he orgasms.

"Never taken anything this big, huh?" Tartaglia chuckles, feeling better about his prize being stolen. He forces Diluc as far as he can go, his tip presses against the red head's cervix.

"Please-" He moans. "More~" Diluc clenches around the harbinger's length. He thrusts into Diluc aggressively, fucking his cervix open.

Diluc gasps once Tartaglia finally enters his womb, coming and nearly passing out.

"You fit me so perfectly." Tartaglia grins, his large hand pressing against the bulge in Diluc's stomach.

Diluc lets out a soft noise before the harbinger starts fucking him, eyes widening as he gets fucked harder than ever.

Diluc moans like a slut, crying both from how good and painful it feels. The harbinger treats him like a doll, fucking him aggressively and somehow lovingly.

"Do you know how long I've been watching you?" Tartaglia asks rhetorically. "I can't believe I lost to my subordinates."

Diluc mumbles something incoherent.

"But it's okay, you’re mine now.” He grins. He drags his tongue along the former Darknight Hero's chest, using it to work his nipples.

The red head giggles, the idea of belonging to a man with such a huge cock makes him have a powerful orgasm. He’d love to get fucked like this every day. “Yo- yours~!” He cries out. “Mo- more~! Feels so guh- good~!”

Tartaglia smirks, fucking him even faster than before. Diluc lets out wanton moans and stupid babbles about how good it feels.

“Cuh~ cumming~!” He exclaims, body twitching as his pussy convulses around the harbinger's thick cock. “Fa- Faster~!” His tongue lolls out, making him look completely fucked out.

Heeding his demand, Tartaglia speeds up and chases his own orgasm. Diluc can tell he's close by the way his thrusts lose their rhythm.

“Ye- yesh~! Gim- gimme yo- your cuh~ cum~!” Diluc moans. “Fih- fill me~!”

Tartaglia brings him into a messy kiss, tongue exploring the red head’s mouth as he pumps the man’s womb full of abnormal amounts of cum.

He pulls away to let Diluc breathe, a stupid grin on his face. He speaks but no proper words come out, just whorish whines and whimpers.

The only word he manages to say is, “Yh- yours-”

Even if he's only saying that because of his huge length, the ginger is still happy to hear it.

“Mine.”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi, I hope you are having a great day! Could I have a matchup if it's not a problem? Thanks in advance!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Gender: Genderfluid (AFAB)

Pronouns: Any pronouns

Sexuality: Asexual-Biromantic

Appearance: My hair is around shoulder length and dyed constantly (currently purple). I am 5'1 and chubby. I always wear glasses be it regular ones or sunglasses.

MBTI: INTP

Personality: I am a little awkward and shy when I first meet new people but if I get used to someone I basically become a chatterbox. I believe myself to be funny and a bit sarcastic. If I like someone enough I'll be constantly talking to them about my interests or tell them a fun fact that I learned recently. I am good at comforting people even if I am a bit awkward about it at the start. I am a professional procrastinator and would do most of my task at the last minute. I tend to be a perfectionist and stress out if something doesn't go as I wanted it to. Sometimes I have days that I hate being touched, no matter the person. I love animals, no matter if it's a typical house pet or a wild animal.

Likes:

- Studying history (the cultural parts mostly, I hate learning dates or military history)

- Listening to music (literally any genre I vibe to pretty much everything)

- Playing video games (I don't really care about genres as long as the story and/or graphics are nice)

- Reading books, mostly non fiction (books about history and also paranormal stuff)

Dislikes:

- Taste of alcohol and the smell of cigarettes

- When I am late to something

- Parties, mostly because of how loud they are how many different noises there is. My sensory issues can't stand that.

Extra fun fact:

- I do embroidery when I am bored

~~~~~ MATCHUPS ~~~~~

Hazbin Hotel

Lucifer Morningstar

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Lucifer enjoyed your company the most when he joined the hotel.

He sought you out for comfort regarding his past and his relationship with Charlie.

He was always really hard on himself after what happened with Lilith, making it hard for him to want to move on.

However, with your advice and care, he overcame this fear.

However, every date he went on with another was never fulfilled, so he stopped altogether, just happy to have a good friend in you.

He loved your passion for embroidery and liked to make different ducks for you to stitch.

When he realized why everyone felt off except for you, he was a total mess.

He was awkward and would spit out weird historical facts to try and impress you.

Once his little Charlie caught wind of his affections, she quickly assisted him in confession.

Charlie had millions of ideas, all of which Lucifer shot down, though, because he did not want to overwhelm you with parties or extravagant ordeals.

Finally, the two decided to make a simple confession over dinner.

He had your favorite music playing and a bunch of fun activities set aside for after he confessed.

Once you confirmed your relationship with him, you will see that he is the happiest man alive.

~~~~~ BLURBS ~~~~~

You had been holed up in your room for hours, working away on your gift for Lucifer. You always found it weird that even though you were in hell, everyone still celebrated Christmas. As Angel put it, 'Who would turn down free shit.' He had a solid point. You had spent weeks making everyone's hand-made gifts but really struggled with Lucifers. You wanted it to be perfect as it was your first holiday as a couple. You had placed the last stitch on your fabric and looked at it proudly. In the center of a small handkerchief were two ducks with a ring of apples. One duck looked strikingly similar to Lucifer, while the other looked a lot like you. Smiling, you boxed up your last gift and snuck downstairs to place the final present under the tree.

When morning broke, everyone was so excited to open their gifts. Each handmade gift you made for everyone was taken excitedly and used accordingly. When it got to Lucifer, you were the most nervous. Tears formed in his eyes as he opened the box and looked at the design. He was so happy and felt so seen in that moment. He folded up the object and placed it in his suit. He looked at you with a warm smile. Gently, he took your hand and placed a chaste kiss with a simple 'Thank you.'

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 11]

Continuing from...

-----

By the time the moons had risen, the fog had finally cleared, and Z realized that she could see for kilometers in every direction. It was almost difficult to remember to keep walking, and not just because her feet were killing her - some part of her just wanted to stand rooted to the spot so she could take in every last detail.

The dense golden-white cloud of the Milky Way and the countless blue stars that painted the vast expanse, a glittering backdrop for the two brilliant moons that painted the gently-rolling desert foothills in shining silver. In the distance, void-black mountains raised their jagged peaks towards the scintillating sky - a sky mirrored in the faint patches of lights sprawling across their flanks.

As she watched, a half-dozen red stars descended towards those lights.

If we did not evacuate them, Hatchet had said, the inbound military forces would kill them all, and use their corpses to paint us as the aggressors.

And then the Ministry of Truth's embedded Redactors would finish the job, executing the SEAF regulars and even any accompanying Helldivers who had participated in the killing, before retreating back to the stars. SEHC's propaganda machine would do the work from there.

A bitter taste filled her mouth at the thought.

"Z?" Hatchet's voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that she'd stopped; snapping back to attention, she jogged to catch back up to him.

This time, when he offered her his arm, she didn't even try to argue, wearily climbing up to settle in the crook of his elbow.

"Sorry," she murmured as she leaned into his side and the heat radiating from his chassis; "I got a little distracted for a minute."

"You're worried, it is understandable," came his soft reply, underscored by the clicking of his arm's joints locking. "Try to rest for now, though. It's been a long day."

"Mmh."

With a long sigh, Z pulled the hood of her coat down over her face and pushed herself a little more firmly against Hatchet's side. An amused little rumble rose up in his chest at that.

"Comfortable, little sister?"

"Kinda," she mumbled, voice slightly muffled; "you're warm."

Hatchet laughed softly in reply.

For what felt like a long time, she just rode along in silence, half-asleep. Unlike the previous night, however, it was hard to shut her brain all the way off and fully sleep; there was just too much churning through her mind, keeping her awake.

Eventually, she gave up, pulling her hood back down with a defeated sigh. "Ah, fuck it…"

"Something wrong?"

"No, my brain just won't stop… buzzing. It's keeping me awake."

"That sounds like something is wrong, little sister."

Z scoffed softly and heaved another sigh, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. "It's fine. I'm fine, I just can't stop thinking, is all. This is the first actually quiet day I've had in a long time, think my brain's just freaking out a little."

"Would you care to talk about it? It might help."

"I…" She faltered for a moment.

She'd been faltering an awful lot over the past couple of days.

"…I don't actually know how to describe it," she admitted at length, "I've never done that before. Not since I was little, anyway…"

Despite the bulk of his chassis being in the way, she could still feel his scrutiny; it left her feeling uncomfortably open.

"I think I am starting to better understand you," Hatchet's voice was almost too quiet to hear; "I have never met a human like you, and I am beginning to see why."

"What's that mean?"

"You've been isolated for some time, haven't you?"

"…I, well… sort of?" Ever since I had to start holding K at arm's length… "It's. Complicated."

"Perhaps not as complicated as you believe." Z could never quite get used to the gentleness of the big Devastator's voice, or how vulnerable it made her feel. "Humans are… fragile. Without interpersonal connections, you wither and fade. Become despondent, desperate, fearful, and easy to control."

Z bit her lip, turning her eyes back towards the stars.

"Ah, but you," he continued, "you are full of rage and hurt, too, all hidden under a mask of indifference - a mask that cracks under the pressure of that underlying desperation, your need for the kindness and companionship you've been denied."

"…Read me like a Major Order, why don't you." She tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, and her vision blurred for a moment. The heel of her hand came away wet when she reached up to scrub at her eyes, and she stared blankly at it for a moment.

If Hatchet noticed, he didn't draw attention to it.

"You haven't made it terribly easy, but the clues were there. I am glad I took the time to start to piece them together, rather than simply going with my first impression."

"And what was that?"

"Your highly atypical fear response initially led me to believe that you were… perhaps somewhat insane."

That caught her off-guard, and she found herself burying her face in her coat sleeves to muffle her sudden laughter. "Oh my god."

"But, as it turns out, all you needed was a little compassion and a chance to not be so afraid." Now she was absolutely sure that he was being smug about something. "I have always prided myself on never being wrong, but I am glad that I was, just this once."

"You say that like you have a habit of picking up stray humans," she mused, leaning into him once more; "and here I thought I was special."

"You are, little sister. You're the first I've opted to keep, rather than forwarding to a CyOp recruiter."

"Well when you say it like that it sounds like I'm your pet." Z nudged him with her elbow, barely holding back another laugh even as he chuffed softly in amusement. Then, "…what, exactly, is a CyOp?"

"Ah. It will be my pleasure to explain…"

Maybe it was the rhythmic marching pace, or maybe it was the even, low tone of his voice, but eventually Z found herself lulled to sleep, her mind finally quiet. The last thing she remembered was nestling into his radiant heat as she listened to him recount how he'd singled out his most recent likely CyOp candidate… And the next she knew, the gray light of dawn was peeking past her hood, while electronic chatter filtered back through the column.

She was sure that there were more voices than there had been previously.

Stirring drowsily, she pushed her hood out of her face and squinted past the sudden brightness of daylight. When her eyes adjusted, she could see that there were, indeed, more Automatons marching alongside them - almost forty more, she guessed at a glance.

"Hatchet…?"

"Outposts Twenty-Nine and Thirty-Two converged on us earlier this morning," he explained quietly.

"Oh… which outpost were you?"

"Thirty-One."

"So where's Thirty?"

"Their crew included three tanks," his tone turned dry, "they made significantly better time."

Z couldn't help the way she snorted at that, even as she took stock of the new day's situation. The sky had clouded over once more, with thick low clouds that threatened snow. The dense fog that had engulfed the past few days remained conspicuously absent, replaced by a thin, gauzy haze that hung over the horizon like a veil. Gone was the sand of the foothills, replaced by firm, gravelly dirt and bare swaths of that familiar black sandstone, on which grew sparse, coarse brownish grass and a few short scrubby plants.

It almost reminded her of a few planets where she'd been sent bug-hunting, and she had to consciously refrain from looking for signs of Terminid infestation.

Old habits die hard.

"Hey, uh… these new guys aren't going to get cagey about me being here, are they?" Her voice was quiet and uncertain as she leaned in close to Hatchet.

"No," he replied, just as quietly, "but stay close, some may not be so watchful about where they step."

"So noted."

Her dismount was… significantly more graceful than the previous morning's had been, even if her still-aching feet protested, and she hit the ground focused and determined to see the rest of this trip through - as well as appropriately wary of their new companions. Particularly the three new Devastators and two Hulks that now brought up the rear alongside her and Hatchet. Z gave each of them a brief glance-over, making note of their positions before looking forwards once more… and stepping a bit closer to Hatchet.

Only a few more hours… it should only be a few more hours…

And then the real trial would begin.