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swytdoll · 1 month ago

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(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

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strang3lov3 · 3 months ago

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Jingled Balls

What has four paws and ruins not only Joel’s Christmas, but his orgasm, too?

Alternatively, you and your cat stay with your dad’s best friend over Christmas.

Tags - dbf!joel, smut, age gap, unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, JOEL JORKS IT IN THE SHOWER, sexual tension, blow jobs, rough/angry sex, first aid, Joel is all grumpy and the target of all sorts of misadventures including but not limited to cat claws in Joel's balls and his butt cheeks, cats pushing shit off of Joel's counter, destroying Joel's house, etc. Some mentions of blood and injury but it’s not bad, I promise. 6.8k words. A/N - this fic is based on a true story of real crimes that have been committed by my dear Gizmo. Names have been changed out of respect for the victims. @endlessthxxghts thank you for editing babyyy i'd be lost without ya

My submission for @beefrobeefcal’s festive failure! I hope everyone has a safe holiday!!

December 20

Joel twiddles his fingers as he waits by a row of empty seats at the baggage claim area of the Austin airport, trying not to pace. He got here too early, been waiting a couple hours for your flight to land. He just couldn’t sit still at home. Already twice cleaned the house top to bottom, fluffed the guest room pillows three times each.

You. You’re staying with Joel this Christmas. It was a last minute thing; your family, well…they forgot about you. It wasn’t intentional, all accidental. Your parents offered up every and any extra amount of room they have to extended family and in doing so, gave away your old room. Whoops.

And so Joel got a call from your dad, his best friend. Joel was supposed to spend Christmas with your family anyway, so your dad reached out to Joel to ask if he’d be willing to take you in while you visit Austin for the week. Joel, of course, didn’t hesitate to say yes. He’d do anything for you, the sweet little girl he watched grow up. He’s missed you a lot since you left home.

Finally, there you are. He’d recognize your smile anywhere. You wave excitedly at Joel, doing your little jog to greet him. Joel takes long steps to meet you halfway, in total disbelief at how grown up you are. Where did the time go? It was only yesterday that you were barely tall enough to reach Joel’s waist, and that was standing on your toes. He remembers teaching you to ride a bike and cleaning up your scraped knees with hydrogen peroxide, and after he bandaged you up he’d let you punch him in the arm as hard as you could to make it square. Look at you now - a beautiful woman, all grown up.

You set your carry-on on the ground and wrap your arms around Joel, squeezing him so fucking tight it steals the oxygen right from his lungs, not that he minds. But the way you kiss his cheek makes his skin burn and his heart pound harder.

“Joel,” you whisper excitedly, hugging him tighter.

Joel lets out a wheezy chuckle. “Hey, kiddo. I missed ya,” he tells you. “S’been too fuckin’ long.”

“Indeed,” you agree.

Joel notices the suitcases from your flight begin to come out on the conveyor belt and squeezes your side twice to alert you, “Better go grab your suitcase, hm?”

“Oh, yeah. Duh. Here–” you laugh, pulling away from Joel to bend down. You pick up your carry on and put it in Joel’s arms, and he grunts at the surprising weight. “Hold this. Be right back.”

Joel inspects the boxy bag you placed in his hands. He turns it to the side and behind a mesh screen are two big green eyes, all wide and untrusting. “Uhhh…” Joel murmurs, further inspecting as he raises an eyebrow. It’s a cat - black fur all puffed up, growling at Joel as its eyes dart left and right. The cat hisses at Joel, causing him to nearly drop the carrier.

You greet Joel once more, this time with your suitcase rolling behind you. “Uh, hey. Who’s this?” Joel asks, suspicion lacing his tone.

“Gizmo!”

“Huh. Gizmo.” The cat hisses again at Joel, startling him. “You didn’t tell me that Gizmo here would be a guest of mine.”

“Oh, I know. I’m so sorry, Joel. It was all so last minute - I found out I was staying with you and then I called kitty daycare,” you begin explaining, Joel leading the way out of the airport and to his truck. He takes your suitcase and carries both that and the carrier. “And get this - they told me they wouldn’t allow me to board Gizmo because he was too bad the last time. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel mumbles, not so surprised.

“I know. It’s bullshit. But don’t worry about Gizmo, Joel. You won’t even know he’s there.”

“M’not really a cat person, you know,” Joel says. “Pretty sure I’m allergic to the bastards, actually.”

Joel puts your luggage in the backseat of his truck, then opens the door for you to get in the passenger side. “Watch your step,” he warns, giving you his hand as you slide in. Joel closes the door, rounds the front of his truck and joins you, promptly starting the vehicle. The loud engine makes Gizmo cry.

“So…” Joel begins, turning onto the busy highway. “How’s it all going? How’s work and whatnot?”

“Good,” you answer. “I don’t know. You know - work’s work. You?”

“Yeah, I hear that,” Joel replies. “Work’s work and Tommy’s…Tommy.” His joke earns him a little giggle from you. “What else is new? Got a boyfriend?” You give Joel a look, and he shrugs. “What?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, old man?” you tease, talking over Gizmo’s crying. “No, I do not. What about you, Joel, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Cute. Yeah, I do actually. Your father.” Another giggle. Joel laughs too, and he has to fight himself to keep his eyes on the road. You just look so fucking beautiful.

Gizmo whines some more, and Joel looks both irritated and concerned. “It’s okay, Gizmo,” you coo, reaching back to touch his carrier, though the effort does little to soothe him. Joel’s truck chimes when you unbuckle your seatbelt and throw your torso over the front seat, your ass right next to Joel’s head makes him cough and clear his throat.

“What the f-”

Thump. You land in the backseat and open Gizmo’s carrier to pet him and calm him. “It’s alright, Giz- oh, Gizmo, did you have an accident?” Joel’s mouth drops as his eyes dart frantically between the road ahead and the rearview mirror to watch you in the backseat. He’s got a bad taste in his mouth about this.

Now at home, Joel listens to the awful sounds of Gizmo wailing and your shrieks as you bathe the cat after his accident. He had to clean the backseat of his truck, but he didn’t tell you that. When you’re done washing Gizmo, you wrap him in one of Joel’s nicer towels, the one he set aside for you.

It’s evening when you come downstairs, clutching your soggy cat in his towel. You’re already in your pajamas, and Joel’s at the door paying the delivery person for the pizza he took the liberty of ordering.

“Ooh, is that pizza?”

“Sure is. Plain cheese and pepperoni. Sit down, I’ll serve ya,” Joel says. “What would you like?”

“Cheese. Please and thank you.”

You smile as you sit down on Joel’s couch, scratching Gizmo’s damp little head as he purrs happily in your arms. With hands full with plates and cans of pop, Joel makes a disgusted sort of face as you kiss Gizmo’s nose. “Here,” he says, handing you a plate. Gizmo hops off of your lap.

“Thank you.” You take a can of pop from Joel as well, cracking it open as Joel sits right next to you. He turns the TV on, Die Hard already a quarter through on whatever channel his TV was set to. It’ll do.

You and Joel eat pizza together, talking here and there until the conversation fades away and only pizza crust remains on your plates, which are haphazardly set on the coffee table in front of you. At some point, you’ve slid closer to Joel, now pressed against his side with your head resting on his shoulder, dozing off to sleep. He smiles warmly, you poor thing. All worn out after a long day of travel. He doesn’t mind being your pillow.

Scrrraatchk, skrecht. Joel hears the odd, rhythmic noise of…something. “Hey, hon–” Joel wiggles his shoulder. “What’s that noise?”

“Mm?”

“That sound, it’s–”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joel catches Gizmo scratching on his leather recliner - his favorite recliner ever. La-Z-Boy just doesn't make them like they used to. “Oh, god bless it. The fuckin’ cat’s scratchin’ on my chair.”

“Oh, shit. Psst,” you whisper, patting the couch to get Gizmo’s attention, who gives you and Joel that deer in the headlights look. “Knock it off. You know better than that, baby,” you scold in the sweetest, most indulgent tone. Joel rolls his eyes. This is getting old already. “Sorry, Joel. He’s just nervous, trying to make himself feel at home.”

“Mm,” Joel grumbles. “You know, this is exactly why people get their cats declawed. You never considered that for Heathcliff there?”

“No,” you deadpan. “It’s inhumane.”

Joel raises his hands in surrender, then eyes Gizmo as he walks around the perimeter of the living room, stopping to sniff and bat at Joel’s Christmas tree. “Watch him,” he warns, voice dripping with irritation.

You smack his arm. “Oh, relax, old man. He’s not gonna do anything. Pretty tree, though.”

“Thanks. Decorated it myself.”

“I can tell. It’s missing ornaments in the back,” you tease. Joel rolls his eyes, though unoffended. “Still. It’s nice to be around a Christmas tree. I don’t have one this year.”

“You don’t?”

“Mm-mm. Gizmo’s too naughty.”

Joel turns to look at you, baffled by your cognitive dissonance. He just shakes his head, and you go right back to almost-snuggling him.

Gizmo loses interest in Joel’s Christmas tree and continues making his rounds, checking out the window and pawing at the blinds, which makes Joel cringe. Before Joel can say anything you shiver, tucking yourself closer into his side. “You cold, kiddo?”

“A little. But I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Joel nudges you away from him so he can get up, then pulls a blanket from a basket on the floor. It’s one of those fleece tie blankets, with the repeated logo of the Dallas Cowboys patterned on one side, plain navy on the other. You made this blanket for him, actually. Years and years ago. It’s his favorite - used to be soft at one point, but it’s all scratchy and worn now, well-loved by Joel. He drapes it over his lap and holds one end up, inviting you to get cozy underneath it. But before you do, Gizmo jumps on Joel’s lap. “Awwwh,” you murmur, smiling warmly at your cat. “He stole the blanket.”

“Yeah, but s’alright. We’ll jus’ move him,” Joel says, reaching for Gizmo.

“No, no, he’s fine,” you insist, petting Gizmo’s back. “I think he likes you.”

“Oh, great,” Joel says sarcastically. Gizmo curls up happily on Joel’s lap, kneading the blanket right over Joel’s crotch, which is an uncomfortable sensation. Joel winces and grunts when Gizmo paws his balls. “Watch it, you little shit.”

“Be nice,” you scold, swatting Joel in the arm.

“Uh-huh.”

You and Joel finish the movie and start another, all with Gizmo sleeping happily on Joel’s lap. At some point, you’ve curled yourself up and are now sleeping on your side, feet pressed against Joel’s thigh. “Alright. Time for you to fuck off.” Joel pushes Gizmo off his lap, earning a disgruntled meow from the cat. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, shooing him away before pulling the fleece blanket over your sleeping form. “If it were up to me, you’d be sleepin’ in the garage. So don’t you wake her,” he warns, wagging a finger in Gizmo’s direction. “Asshole.”

December 21

A bit of golden light peeks through Joel’s curtain, gently waking him up. He yawns and checks his digital alarm clock, though he can barely make out the time. Meh. It’s sunrise, whenever that is.

You’re probably still sleeping, Joel guesses, so he’ll grab the first shower. If you’re anything like when you were younger - and you are - if Joel doesn’t shower first, he’ll never get any hot water. He doesn't understand your unique inability to ever shower under 45 minutes, but he can work around it.

Groaning, springs squeaking with his shifting weight, Joel gets out of bed. He takes lazy, heavy steps toward the bathroom, hair sticking up in six different directions with bags under his deep brown eyes. He turns on the water and lets it warm up for a moment, grunting as he tugs his boxers down his thighs, erection slapping against his tummy. He’s hard as a fucking rock - morning wood.

You. You shouldn’t be in his head, but you are. Joel dreamed of you all last night, doing all sorts of filthy things with you, to you. It’s probably nothing - you’re a pretty girl, and Joel’s not gotten laid in however long. Biology. Inappropriate. Wrong. But biology, nonetheless.

Joel steps into the tub, facing the showerhead. He wets his hair, water trickling down his broad, freckled shoulders. He first scrubs his hair using some 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tangling his fingers in the sudsy strands, then rinses and finger-combs his hair back. Next, he grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in a rag, washing over the broad planes of his chest, his soft tummy, all down his legs, then rinses and wrings out the rag.

His left hand on the wall, right hand palms his cock. Joel wraps his fingers around himself, sliding his hand all the way down, squeezing the base of his shaft. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, dragging his hand back up.

Joel fucks his fist with abandon, and in his head, he’s picturing you. “Oh goddamn, kiddo,” he moans, eyes squeezed shut. Your eyes are all big and wide with your mouth full of his cock, drooling down his shaft and onto his balls. Or you’re on top of him, hands on his chest as you fuck yourself on his cock. He’s behind you, big hands gripping your waist as he pounds against your ass, leaning over you to lick and taste the skin between your shoulder blades.

With his eyes closed as he pumps his cock, what Joel doesn’t see is Gizmo. Gizmo, wedged between the shower curtain and the liner, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, tail swinging wildly back and forth. His pupils are big as droplets of water roll down the clear liner.

Joel’s dick is red and throbbing, his cheeks are flushed pink as he approaches orgasm. “Fu- oh,” he pants, quickly reaching for his damp washrag. He bites the fabric to quiet his noises of pleasure. His brow knits together, the wrinkles on his face handsomely defined as he grimaces when his cock begins to throb. He’s about to fall over the edge when it’s all ruined - a sharp pain in his ass cheek, dragging down his flesh. “AHHH!” Joel screams in both shock and agony, looking for the source of his pain.

Of fucking course - Gizmo. Gizmo, with his little, fuzzy arm raised high, claws poking through the shower liner and right into Joel’s ass. He’s squirming, stuck like that of course, go figure. “Get the fuck out of here you fuck-” Joel yells, violently shaking the shower curtain. Gizmo sprints out of the shower and around the bathroom in circles, anxiously pawing for any way out. “God fuckin’ - SHIT,” he rages, stomping out of the tub sopping wet and inadvertently kicking Gizmo with every step he takes. Joel frantically opens the bathroom door, wet hands slipping on the handle. “Scram, you fuckin’ asshole,” he spits, watching Gizmo slip out of the bathroom.

“JOEL?!”

Gizmo jumps right into your arms, and Joel gawks at you.

“What did you fucking do to my cat?”

“What did I do?” Joel seethes. “He clawed my fuckin’ ass cheek!”

Joel can’t believe his eyes. You’re shooting him dirty looks as you kiss Gizmo’s little head, and Gizmo’s headbutting your face in return. He rubs his cheeks on your nose and curls his furry little body into yours, and you pout as you soothe him. “Yeah, sure. Worry about the cat. I’m fuckin’ fine, I guess,” Joel bites, catching a glimpse of a small amount of blood running down his thigh from his ass.

Joel shuts the door then, and gets back into the shower. He washes the scratch with soap and water, wincing at the sting. When he’s done with his shower - and only his shower, as it’s now too late for him to make himself come, Joel apologizes to you for losing his temper.

“Well, don’t apologize to me, Joel. Apologize to him.”

Joel pauses, jaw twitching, balling his hands into fists as he glares at Gizmo purring contentedly in your lap. “Sorry.” It’s the most painful, undeserved apology he’s ever had to make.

Between the holidays and your cat, Joel can already tell it’s gonna be a long fucking week.

December 22

Joel’s current job site isn’t too far from home, so instead of eating a packed sandwich in his truck, he decides to come home one afternoon to make himself something for lunch.

He enters his house through the garage and sees you napping peacefully on his couch, snoring ever so quietly. Your lips are pouting, drooling a little onto his leather couch as the TV plays at a low volume. Joel chuckles quietly, shaking his head. It makes Joel happy to see you comfortable like that, so at home at his house.

He strolls into the kitchen and opens his refrigerator, grabbing some lunch meat and cheese. He tosses them onto the counter, then grabs a jar of mayonnaise and a loaf of bread sitting on top of the refrigerator, sets those down too. Joel grabs a plate, and when he turns back around, Gizmo’s on the counter.

“Get down from there,” Joel hisses, shooing away the cat. “Go on, git.”

Gizmo blinks at him nonchalantly, which pisses Joel off. He knows that fucking cat speaks English. So Joel takes the liberty to shove Gizmo off of the counter, Gizmo landing on all fours with a thump and a discontent meow. “Yeah, shut up. Overgrown fuckin’ rodent.”

Joel pulls two slices of bread from the loaf and opens the jar of mayonnaise, spreading a thin layer on each piece. He moves the jar out of the way and begins assembling his sandwich, and Gizmo hops right back onto his spot on the counter to stare at Joel.

“Oh, you little…” Joel whispers, trailing off and shaking his head. Joel cuts his sandwich on the diagonal, then begins making another - for you, of course. You always told Joel sandwiches taste better when he makes them. You’re a master fucking manipulator, with Joel wrapped tightly around your finger.

Gizmo reaches for the cheese. “Don’t even think about it, shithead,” Joel gruffs, swatting his paw away. “The sandwich is for her. Not. You.”

Joel puts your sandwich in a little baggy and places it in the refrigerator before writing a note for you on a post-it. When he returns to the counter, Gizmo’s surreptitiously dipping his paw into the mayonnaise. “Hey!” Joel snaps, “Get yer filthy goddamn mitts outta there.”

December 23

It’s late at night when Joel wakes up to a horrible suffocation. His eyes fly open and his heart pounds with the heavy weight on his chest, and in his hypnagogic state, he begins to panic. Fuck, he’s having a heart attack. Confused and scared, he tosses his body with the little strength he has, and that’s when he feels it - two paws rhythmically pressing into his chest, a low purr.

Gizmo.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Joel whispers, pushing Gizmo off his chest.

Gizmo makes a little mrrp noise on the floor, then leaves. Joel rolls his eyes and tosses onto his stomach, then tries to drift off to sleep.

But he can’t. Joel’s up now, as there’s nothing like a middle of the night panic to jolt the nervous system wide awake. So Joel groans softly as he sits up in bed, yanking the blankets off his body. He takes slow, sleepy steps out of his room and down the stairs, grabbing himself a glass from the cabinet above the sink. “Fuckin’ cat,” he mumbles quietly as he fills the glass with some water. Joel takes a few sips, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his house. In his living room, he can see some ornaments are strewn across the floor, lights pulled off the branches of his Christmas tree. As if on cue, Gizmo brushes up against Joel’s leg. “I know what you did, you motherfucker,” Joel grumbles, gently pushing Gizmo away with his foot. Joel sets the glass of water down, then makes his way to the living room.

He first puts the lights back on the tree, and then he gathers the ornaments and places them back on the branches.

Skrrrch.

Joel looks back to see Gizmo on the counter, nudging Joel’s glass along the surface with a gentle bat of his paw, inching it closer and closer to the edge. “HEY,” Joel whisper-yells, warning the cat, “I fuckin’ dare ya, cat. Jus’ watch what happens.”

Gizmo makes direct eye contact with Joel as he pushes it off, and it lands with that signature, awful sound of broken glass.

“God bless it.”

Joel stomps over to Gizmo, who frantically jumps down off the counter and skitters off into another room. Joel chases him down and turns on a light, then corners him and grabs his little body. He cradles the squirming, whining cat and inspects all four paws to make sure he didn’t step on any glass, then tosses him back onto the floor, where Gizmo then runs up the stairs and into Joel’s guest room to join you in a peaceful slumber.

Joel sweeps up the broken glass, defeated.

December 24

Joel’s off work for both Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so finally, he gets to spend some time with you. He’s in his pajamas making eggs and toast for you at the stove, and you’re at the kitchen table, sipping on the orange juice Joel poured for you. “Vitamin C,” he’d said. “S’good for ya.”

Joel plates your eggs, done just how you like them, and butters your toast. “Here ya are, darlin’,” he murmurs, setting down both yours and his plates at the table.

“Thank you, Joel,” you smile. Gizmo’s weaving in and out between your feet on the ground. With the side of your fork, you cut off a small bite of your eggs and drop it on the ground, smiling at the way Gizmo darts out to eat it. Joel just watches, completely dumbfounded.

“You and that cat,” he sighs. “You know, he’s been causin’ me all sorts ‘a trouble all week.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” you argue, leaning down to scratch Gizmo between his ears.

“Well, you should, ‘cause he’s the fuckin’ devil. Broke a glass last night.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. An’ he’s been fuckin’ with my tree,” Joel adds.

You roll your eyes. “It’s just a little cat, Joel. Are you being bullied by a tiny little cat?”

“As a matter ‘a fact, yes. I am.”

You and Joel spend the rest of the day relaxing and watching Christmas episodes of sitcoms together. Joel has you wrap his presents, claiming it’s what you owe him for allowing you and your devil cat to stay.

In the late afternoon, you and Joel get ready to go to your parents’ house for Christmas Eve dinner. Joel wears a dark green flannel and runs a comb through his hair, and you put on a nice dress, one that hugs your curves beautifully.

You knock twice on his bedroom door. “Joel?”

“Yeah, kiddo. C’mon in.”

“Just wondering if you can zip me,” you ask quietly, spinning around for Joel to pull the zipper up your dress.

“Can do,” he answers. He puts a hand on your waist and tugs the zipper all the way up, then smoothes out the fabric. “Y’look beautiful,” he tells you. “Know that?”

“Joooel,” you murmur bashfully, elongating his name.

“I mean it,” Joel says, spinning you around and pushing a bit of hair out of your eyes with his pinky finger and smiling at you, which makes you all flustered. Joel clears his throat then, ushering you out of his room and down the stairs. “M’nervous about leavin’ that cat of yours all alone, you know. If we get home from this and that asshole destroyed my fuckin’–”

You squeeze Joel’s arm. “Relax,” you tell him, but your words do little to soothe the man. The whole time at dinner, all Joel can talk with your parents about is how awful Gizmo is. All the trouble he’s caused, and how you think the little bastard can do no wrong. “Your daughter feeds him,” Joel tells your dad, watching your reaction. You scoff and roll your eyes. “Right from her plate.”

The night comes and goes, much like it always does. Christmas comes so much faster than it ever used to, and it doesn’t last as long. Joel drives you both home and to Joel’s surprise, his house is in one piece. But not the present he got you.

“Goddamn it,” Joel grumbles, seeing the gift bag he left under his tree for you in shreds. He picked out a little black cat ornament for you, and thought you’d like it. He put some cat treats in the bag too. Go fucking figure that Gizmo ruins it.

You help Joel clean up the mess of shredded paper and plastic, all the cat treats are, of course, eaten. “Fuckin’ cat’s probably pukin’ in my bed,” Joel gruffs.

You put your ornament on Joel’s tree and squeeze his shoulder sympathetically. “You’re thoughtful,” you tell him.

Joel smiles with his lips pressed together. He’s so ready for this week to be over. He’ll miss you - god, will he miss you when you’re gone, but he will not miss your asshole fucking cat. “How ‘bout another Christmas movie, hm?”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling.

“M’takin’ requests. Got any?” Joel opens his entertainment center cabinet to show you his array of DVD’s, the Christmas movies all already set out.

“This one.” You tap the Bad Santa DVD case. “‘Cause he’s hot.”

“Who is? Billy Bob Thornton?”

“Mhm,” you nod, smirking.

Joel makes a disgusted face and gives you a look, but puts the movie in the DVD player anyway. Some of the vulgar jokes make Joel blush, which is uncomfortable for him and entertaining for you.

When the movie’s over, it’s time to go to bed. For real, too. You and Joel have to be at your parents’ house again in the morning and will likely spend the entire day there, getting no alone time or space from anyone. Joel bids you goodnight and kisses you on the cheek, then heads to the bathroom for a night time shower. He doesn’t wanna fight you for it in the morning.

Joel keeps only the night light on in the bathroom. He’s exhausted, eyes are dry and stinging with tiredness. He pulls off his t-shirt, unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans and boxers down his legs together, then toes off his socks, yawning as he scratches his balls. In a sleepy haze, Joel gets into the tub and turns on the shower.

He’s met with that sharp, awful, excruciating pain of claws in his skin, only it’s not in his thighs. Not in his ass.

His fucking balls. Your cat’s claws are in Joel’s balls, and dragging down his sack. Joel feels like puking as it happens, and at the same time he’s being blasted with cold water as Gizmo panics and scratches his body further. It’s like a cartoon, when two characters fight and it’s just pure chaos - a cloud of screaming and other concerning noises, concerning noises that startle you awake.

“FUUUUUUCK!!” Joel yells, scrambling to get out of the tub. He clutches his scrotum and wraps a towel haphazardly around his waist, feeling dizzy as he bleeds into his palm. “Fuck - y–”

You fly out of bed and sprint to the bathroom, where Gizmo is clawing at the bottom of the door. “Joel?” you knock frantically. “Joel!”

Joel unlocks the door and Gizmo sprints out, soaking wet and leaving a path of water droplets in his wake. Joel’s white as a fucking ghost. “Joel?”

“H- he-” Joel can’t even get the words out. Still holding his towel in place, Joel checks the palm of his hand and sees a mess of crimson. “Oh my god,” he says with a weakened voice.

“Joel, what the fuck? What happened?!”

Joel shakes his head, vision going spotty as he waddles to his bedroom and sits on the bed. You follow him, shutting the door behind you and turning the light on in his room. “Joel.”

Joel says nothing, only peeks slightly at his crotch. He does his best to protect his modesty with you there but fuck, he’s gonna faint. And unfortunately, you might see more than you should, should that happen.

“Did he scratch you?” Joel only nods, swallowing thickly. “Okay, alright. Where’s your first aid stuff?”

“Bathroom vanity,” Joel chokes out.

You hurry to the bathroom and grab Joel’s first aid kit, then return quickly to him.

Joel has a strong stomach, however, the sight of his mangled scrotum is too much for his heart to take. If he looks, he might puke and faint and that’ll make everything worse. “You gotta do it,” he tells you, urgency in his voice. “I can’t look. Cat fuckin’ butchered me. I’m a eunuch.”

“Okay, okay,” you whisper, sitting beside Joel. You take his hand in yours, the one that’s clutching his towel shut. He’s shaking, trembling, and you move it to the side so you can open his towel.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Joel says.

“You’re fine,” you reply calmly, though in all honesty you’re pretty nervous too. “I’m gonna open up your towel, okay?”

“Yeah, go ‘head and do it. M’so sorry, kid. Jesus christ,” Joel groans. He leans back so that he’s laying flat on the bed, palms pressed into his eyes as his tummy rises and falls with panicked breaths.

You open the towel and asses the injuries.

It’s not bad.

Really.

It’s not. But you still wouldn’t trade places with Joel, right now. There’s quite a few scratches here and there, some deeper and longer than others. Nothing a little cleanup and some antibiotic ointment can’t fix. “Okay, Joel. I’m gonna be right back, I need to get a soapy rag.” Joel gives you a weak thumbs up.

You run the water on warm and lather a clean rag with some soap, then return to Joel to wash the scratches. “Might sting,” you tell him, dragging the rag gently over his sack. You do your best to remain professional or something of the sort, to ignore how Joel’s cock thickens at your touch. His thick thatch of hair spattered around the base of his dick, gray, wiry hairs sprinkled amongst the brown. He’s thicker than you would have guessed, longer too, curved so beautifully. And his thighs - gorgeous, toned. Belly is soft, arms are strong. He’s gorgeous, all laid out like this.

Joel’s…Joel is feeling every emotion. Embarrassment, because his best friend’s daughter is between his thighs and carefully tending to his lacerated balls. Rage, because her fucking shithead cat is the reason he’s in this predicament. Aroused, because he’s only a man, and you’re too fucking pretty for him to not get hard from your touch.

“Are you doing okay, Joel?” you whisper.

“Ask me later.” Joel wipes some sweat from his brow. “Sorry about the…my…uh…”

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “Didn’t know you were hung like that, Joel.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, don’t say shit like that.”

You stifle your laughter as you toss the rag to the side, the bleeding now stopped. You unscrew the cap of some Neosporin, then squeeze a generous amount onto your fingertip.

“I’m gonna touch you,” you warn. “Just some Neosporin. Okay?”

Joel nods. “Go for it.” He clears his throat when you touch his shaft, moving it slightly out of the way so you can dab the ointment on his scratches. Fuck, he’s struggling to conceal his moans and his stuttered breathing.

Gizmo hops on the bed then, and headbutts Joel’s bicep.

“Get that goddamn cat away from me before I put him through the fuckin’ wall,” Joel seethes.

You don’t push. You know Joel means business, and Gizmo really did fuck up this time. “Psst, Gizmo. Get down. Leave Joel alone,” you whisper, swatting Gizmo onto the floor. “Gizmo’s really sorry,” you murmur, still rubbing ointment onto Joel’s balls. “He didn’t mean to, Joel. He must’ve thought—”

Joel holds up a hand to stop you. “Don’t. Jus’ don’t.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You lift Joel’s ballsack to see if you missed any scratches, but you didn’t. “You’re all done, Joel.”

Joel scoffs, and you stroke his thigh soothingly to calm him. He says nothing, only collects his breathing. His cock is still achingly hard, a pearly, pretty bead of precum at the tip.

It’s a risk, but you take it anyway. You lean down and press a kiss right against his ballsack, conscious to avoid any scratches inflicted by Gizmo.

“Woah, woah, woah-”

“Shhh,” you whisper. “Do you want this?”

“Yeah, but-”

“But nothing.” You kiss Joel’s sack all over as much as you can, and once you’ve exhausted that, you kiss up his hard shaft. “I’m kissing it better.”

You lick up the length of Joel’s shaft, then circle your tongue a few times around the tip. With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, you rest the other on his tummy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel sighs, voice dripping with relief as his hips thrust up, almost as if to chase your mouth. He sits up and reaches for your head, softly dragging his nails over your scalp rhythmically. “You’re a good girl.”

You take his tip into your mouth, working your way down his cock to take him fully inside. Joel tastes salty, sweaty, heady and so masculine, just like you always imagined, and it makes you wet. And you, with your warm and wet and inviting mouth, Joel’s imagination didn’t come close to mimicking this. You bob your head up and down his shaft, bouncing your nose into his pubic hair.

“Jus’ like that,” Joel grunts. “Attagirl.”

His words only worsen your growing arousal, and you can feel yourself making a mess of your panties. You fuck Joel’s cock with your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and spitting down his shaft and your knuckles.

Joel pulls your head away from his cock. “Wait a second,” he tells you. “Wanna look at the mess you’re makin’,” he mumbles, admiring the slick, wet mess of your saliva on his cock. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs, then pushes you back down onto his cock.

Joel thrusts into your mouth a bit harshly, though maintaining a certain gentleness to it. He ruts into your mouth, grunting your name as you drool on him, just as he pictured before.

You reach into your skirt and pull your panties to the side, the cotton is all but soaked with your wetness. Dragging a finger up and down your folds, you moan onto Joel’s cock, sending vibrations down his shaft.

“Whatcha doin’ there, kiddo?” he rasps.

“Nothing,” you murmur, pressing kisses against his dick.

“Sure don’t look like nothin’. C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him and tugs the zipper of your back down your dress, then helps you out of it. He unclasps your bra and pulls your soaked panties down your legs, clutching them in his fist before shoving them behind his pillow.

In a swift motion that has you yelping excitedly, Joel flips you on your back, the bed beneath you warm with his body heat. Joel settles between your thighs and pushes your knees back toward your chest. “Yeah, s’it. This what you wanted, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, settling into his pillows. Joel’s hot breath fans over your hot, pulsing sex as he places his large, meaty hands on the backs of your thighs. Fuck, the way you smell has Joel’s head spinning, dizzy with lust. He presses kisses against your inner thighs first, working his way toward your center where he kisses sloppily over your clit.

“Makin’ a mess of my sheets, y’know that, kid?” Joel teases, admiring the puddle of arousal you’re dripping onto his bed. He feels the heat of your cunt radiating against his face, inviting him in. He squeezes the meat of your thighs as he licks one long stripe up your pussy, then rubs your skin in circles with his thumbs.

With a flattened tongue, Joel continues licking, rounding your clit before repeating the motion. He memorizes your folds, your taste, your scent. You moan his name and clutch his head against your cunt, your wordless plea for more.

“I’ll give ya more, sweetheart. I know what you want,” he says, tongue now circling your entrance before dipping inside to taste you. He drags his tongue back up and flicks it up and down over your clit. Urgently, you tug on his graying, dark curls, pleasure blooming in your gut. You’re soaking his face as your climax approaches, thighs twitching beneath his palms. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant.

“Let go, darlin’.”

You’re about to come when -

CRASH

It’s a loud, thundering crash, the sound of broken glass and heavy objects hitting the floor. Joel growls against your pussy and violently punches the bed on either side of you before tearing himself away from your cunt and stomping downstairs with a renewed anger for your cat.

“I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he fumes, seeing the mess Gizmo, of course, made. You’re right behind Joel, your jaw dropped in shock.

Ornaments all over the floor, some shattered and others still in one piece. The Christmas tree is somehow in two pieces - god only knows how gizmo managed to do that. The Christmas lights are strewn all over the place and there’s your precious cat, tangled up in the mess. Joel seethes as he makes his way toward Gizmo to free him of the lights, “You get the fuck outta here,” he hisses.

“It was an accident!”

Joel turns around, chest heaving with his angry breaths. “Not another fuckin’ word,” he says, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you over the leather recliner. Joel laughs without humor when he sees that it’s been further scratched by Gizmo.

He parts your legs with his foot, then lines up with your slick hole and enters you in one swift thrust, the action both mind-splittingly painful and pleasurable.

“Joel,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to grab at his thigh as he sets a quick, brutal pace.

“You are…” he starts, “Never…bringing…that fucking cat…here…ever again,” Joel pants, fucking you with anger. “Do you fuckin’ understand me?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, voice muffled with your face pressed into the chair.

Joel draws out of you all the way, admiring your milky arousal glistening on his cock underneath the glow of the ruined Christmas lights. He plunges back in, then fucks you harshly. He draws in and out of you so quickly and steadily, the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot with each of his thrusts. “Fuck,” he grunts, pulling you by your hips onto his cock repeatedly.

He breathes loudly through his nose, fucking fuming with rage as he uses your cunt to relieve himself of the stress you - yes, you caused him. That cat may be Satan’s spawn but he’s still yours. You are responsible for this.

Pleasure builds quickly in you, and Joel can tell. He leans over you to press his fingers against your clit; he doesn’t even have to move them to make you come. Just the pressure and the motion of his rough fucking is enough to send you over the edge, pussy pulsing and gushing on Joel’s stiff cock, making a mess of him.

Joel pulls you against his chest and bites your ear as he pounds into you, chasing his own orgasm. His balls tighten and his body tenses before release, and then he’s spilling into you, spurting milky white ropes of his hot come inside you. “Fuck, goddamn,” he grunts, fucking himself through his climax. When he’s finished, he pulls out of you unceremoniously, your combined arousal spilling onto the ground. What’s another fucking mess to clean up.

Joel rounds the chair and plops onto the couch, pulling you down with him. You yelp as you fall but he catches you in his strong arms and hugs you close against his body, kissing your forehead and cheeks. “I fuckin’ hate that cat,” he tells you, panting.

Gizmo mrrps then and jumps onto Joel’s lap with you, walking over both of your bodies to greet Joel specifically, bunting Joel’s face as he purrs.

“He’s really sorry,” you giggle.

“Yeah, m’sure.” Joel surprises you both and brings a hand to Gizmo’s face, gently petting his head. “I mean it,” Joel warns. “Never. Again.”

IF YOU ENJOYED!!! Please leave me a comment or say something nice in your reblog, or send me an ask ♡ i love when you make this blog feel like a community ily. ty so much <3 <3 <3

#joel miller x reader #Joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #Joel miller/reader #dbf!joel #Dbf!joel miller #tlou smut #tlou fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters

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sukunas-wife · 1 year ago

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Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #jjk anime #sukuna x reader #daddy sukuna

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dmitriene · 9 months ago

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tf141 as a delivery company, all four boys working so good that all people around you buzz with praises towards them, saying that if you search for someone to help you with some furniture to the new home, you should immediately select their company, and since you just moved to the neighborhood, why not.

it's johnny who you meet first, he's delivering a new bed, because the house is completely empty, and sleeping on the floor is not your best choice, so ordering a bed was a first and most important option, while the other furniture was on it's way.

the first thing you notice is his baby blue eyes, bright pebbles that shine in the morning sun when you greet him, slightly disheveled and dressed in some ordinary pajamas, too sleepy to notice the way johnny's gaze trails down your body and round curves, until asking where you need the bed, bonnie, because he's sure you won't be able to place it yourself.

johnny wonders if you'll let him suck at your cunt as a payment, thoughts clouded with how you'll could have looked sprawled on this new bed, scrabbling at his messy mohawk, mattress stained with a puddle of your syrupy slick and his drool, writhing prettily with your sleeping shorts dangling at your ankle.

too pretty for your own good, especially when you flash him a beaming smile on his way out, thanking him for his work with flattering tone of voice, and johnny glad you can't see the heavy boner between his legs, hidden beneath the baggy fabric of his working pants, staining his boxers with sticky precum.

then you meet kyle, prettiest boy you've ever seen, fitting to be a model rather than delivery guy, holding a heavy box with bedside table in his hands, honeyed eyes crinkling in bright smile when he asks you where he can place it, since you zoned on his face for too long, and unbeknownst to you, it got him much flustered.

he's a sunshine, a golden boy with how fast he works with his veiny hands, saying that you'll give him less than an hour and the table would be ready for you to use, still wearing a warm smile that makes you melt, nodding dumbly, just watching how kyle works, all but focused on the task in front of him, brows creasing.

his shirt riding up to reveal a glimpse of his lower back, skin smooth, and it's you who wonders about having fun with him, propped on his lap, toying with his most likely lengthy cock, all wet for you, imagining if he would let you play with him, or he'll flip you up and rearrange your glossy cunt till you're dumb.

kyle leaves you with a new furniture for a less than thirty minutes and winking at you when he stands at the doorway, leaning aside on his hip, saying that if you'll need more help, you know where to find him, and his name as well, and this leaves you with suddenly sodden panties and unspoken fantasies.

at the end, you meet simon and john, two bulky men that helped you with your new couch, a big thing that is better than the old, dusty one, and indeed worth of having two big men inside your house, crouched on the floor to settle the furniture up, telling you to not worry about a single thing, lass.

simon is more silent, efficient at his work and seems brooding, but his dark gaze softens everytime he meets your eyes as you check up on them, his hand caressing the small of your back briefly, just after john patted you there in reassurance, too close to the swell of your ass, murmuring that it's their work and you don't have to try and stick up to help in your own house.

cerulean eyes soothingly cold, with comforting smile hiding beneath his facial hair everytime your fingers touch, making you shudder briefly, almost praying so they'll won't notice how you eye them, how your cheeks tingle, but they both do.

wondering how you'll look seated on this plush couch, stripped bare and stretched around john's fat cock, with simon's throbbing girth down your tight little throat, an obedient housewife for them, sweet darling that could help them relieve after hard work, and perhaps, since you're living all alone, they could make you theirs.

it's the moment all of the boys are out on the weekends evening in some town pub, drinking glass after glass of warming, tart liquid, when johnny breaks up in slurring about what a cutie he meet when delivering some really big bed, and when kyle joined next, and then simon, john's eyes squinting as he strokes at his mutton chops, your appearance coming up like pieces of puzzles through their talk, everything fell into place.

all along, they were dreaming of the same bird, in the same house in a small neighborhood, sweet darling with giddy smiles and too longing gazes, and since they're such a good team, why won't they're help you a bit more this time, one for one.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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syluss-littlecrow · 6 months ago

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massagers and misunderstandings

Haphazardly leaving your little toy in Sylus's room after your playtime wasn't part of the plan.

The good news is that the vibrator was in Sylus’s room.

The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, vibrator play x mirror sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sylus teasing the everloving shit out of you, breeding kink, (light) choking, dacryphilia, shit load of orgasms

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: shout out to the loml @rafsfishstick for helping me out with this and also giving me this fuck ass idea. Now y'all gna suffer with ME. you're welcome 🩷

Shit, shit, shit. Where is it?!

You've been flipping your whole bedroom upside down over an important missing device. You swore you kept it in the drawers of your room, or at least, you thought you did.

Unfortunately, it went over your head that staying with Sylus for extended periods had you getting very comfortable with leaving your belongings around.

Including your vibrator.

Well, Sylus didn't need to know about it.

In your defense, it was lonely in the mansion without him. And when you did miss him while he was gone, you'd sneak into his room (not that he minded), lie on his bed and let his scent just engulf you completely.

Well, you had your needs too.

And usually you'd just keep your vibrator in your room within the mansion.

And unfortunately for you, this was not one of your usual times.

When the realisation hit you that you in fact did absentmindedly stash your toy hastily in one of his drawers during one of the nights when he told you he'd be away from town for a while, you bolted to his room, hoping, praying, that Sylus hadn't reached his chambers before you did.

The good news is that the vibrator was indeed in Sylus’s room.

The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.

Fuck me, you think, a million useless excuses flooding in and out of your mind.

Maybe you could knock him out and snag the toy from his fingers.

Yeah, like that could ever fucking work with his level of reflexes.

“Aren't you coming in, kitten?”

His usual pet name sends goosebumps flooding your skin.

“Good evening, Sylus”, you force a smile, trying to ignore the way he’s fidgeting with your vibrator.

“This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?” He asks, dangling the silicone vibrator before you. “I've never seen you use it before.”

You could smack the smug look off his face if you had the chance to, but for now, you force a smile, reaching out to take the device from him.

“It's just a massager”, you lie horribly.

Of course he fucking shifts it away from your grasp.

He narrows his eyes at you and decorates his expression with a sharper smirk.

“Right, because massaging devices look unassuming like this, and you happen to decide to have a little massage session in my room?”

Fuck.

There's no way out of this.

His smirk fades. He puts an arm out to beckon you closer.

His eyes reflect tints of something else, like a reminder that you're about to turn into his prey.

And you can't help but always fall into his trap.

“Now, won't you show me how you use your little massager, sweetie?”

You watch him twirl the vibrator between his slender fingers, touching and feeling the buttons on his fingertips. He has your legs spread apart in front of him at the edge of the bed. You’re carefully observing your partner as it takes him barely a few minutes to figure your toy out when it buzzes to life.

“Don't look so scared, kitten. I'm not about to eat you”, the gaze Sylus is giving you says otherwise. Unfortunately, there's a twisted stem of anticipation that's slowly flooding your veins. You wonder what he's about to do to you, and it's getting you excited.

He smirks when his gaze lands on the small damp patch of fabric on your pussy. He wants to make it bigger.

Sylus grazes his knuckles against your clothes pussy, and it draws a gasp from you.

“I have to say, sweetie, your little massager here has quite the strong vibrations”, Sylus teases. His arm curls around your legs, pulling you slightly closer to him, before he presses the buzzing toy on your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you knew it was coming, you still jumped from the sensation instantly.

You crunch your abdomen when you feel Sylus rolling the vibrator up and down your pussy, watching with sheer satisfaction at the way the dark patch on your pussy continues to grow darker and bigger.

“How does it feel, kitten?” He asks with a smile, and you're not sure if you're getting soaked from the vibrator or from Sylus eye fucking you.

“Tickles…” you force yourself to answer. You hear him hum from below, before your mind shuts off when he shifts the vibrator right to your clit, and applies pressure right there.

But it's not enough.

You know he's fucking with you. He's teasing you–especially when he intentionally lowers the vibration to a dull buzz, taking away the build up, only leaving you whining for more.

But at the moment where you're able to catch your breath, the vibration climbs in levels again, leaving you fisting the sheets and his shirt. Sylus removes his arm around your thigh, and hooks a slender on the damp piece of fabric, tugging it outwards.

“Should we get this out of the way, sweetie? It's bothering you isn't it?”

You nod, still trying to regulate your breathing, your mind racing at the thought of Sylus being the one pressing your vibrator on your bare, wet, sticky pussy.

He lets you close your legs to roll the panties off your hips, only to disappear behind you for a split moment.

His husky voice rings in your ears.

“Open, sweetie.”

You feel his fingers brush on your chin, and he gestures to you to face the front.

You're facing the mirror.

The view of your legs spread open, the sight of your glistening pussy right before your reflection makes you swallow hard.

Sylus’s finger slither down to your sopping folds, spreading your pussy open.

“So fucking pretty for me, aren't you?”

Your fingers clutch tightly against his shirt, the desperation for him to do just anything coming out as a beg when you whisper to him, “please, Sylus.”

His other hand switches on the vibrator once more, and he aims it right on your fucking clit. It makes you jump, and before you realise it, your orgasm hits you–white engulfing your vision, the pleasure shooting through your veins at lightning speed and your pussy uselessly and desperately clenching the air. Sylus captures your lips with his, eating your fucked out moans while he drags your orgasm out, rolling the toy in circles around your clit, collecting the sheer wetness with his fingers and vibrator.

He pulls the vibrator off you, at least, momentarily, to let you descend from your high.

Sylus watches you through the mirror–you, in tears, a small puddle just under where you're sitting and just a creamy fucking mess your pussy is.

“So this was what you were doing when I was gone?”

He watches the way your ears turn red.

Sylus’s fingers keep you staring at him through the reflections.

“I got lonely when you weren't here…”

“Right. I'm sorry for that, sweetie. I should make it up to you, hm?”

You couldn't even proceed to ask him how before he lifts you onto his lap, and the view before you makes you swallow harder–his cock just resting against your bare pussy.

His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear.

“If I told you that I crave so fucking much to just see you the moment I leave, would that leave your mind at ease?”

“No”, you mutter, then gasp when he presses his dick along your folds, dragging his cock so painfully slowly against your pussy. “Nothing is enough if it's not you being here in the flesh.”

He chuckles–it feels warm and it spreads through all over your body.

“Greedy kitten”, is all he replies before he stretches you open, taking the gorgeous sight of you completely falling apart for him as he fits his cock in you.

“That’s a good girl for me. You're taking me so well. Fuck, look at you swallowing me up”, he groans, greedily wanting to just keep all the wet warmth for himself.

It has been a couple of long weeks since he was gone, and fuck was his cock quite a stretch. He fills you up so fucking good every single time.

He listens to you sigh shakily, trying to adjust. He feels the way you're squeezing his thighs with your hand.

You feel so good around him. You feel so good for him.

You hiccup when you feel Sylus thrusts his cock right into you again. You're so fucking overstimulated, your sensitivity climbing up in hundreds, but Sylus still trails the vibrator across your clit in pulses, making your head fall back against his shoulders, your moans bouncing off the walls of his room. It doesn't help that he's forcing you to soak in the sheer perversion of view that's presented before you.

“You're squeezing me so much, kitten”, he hisses into your ears when he feels your pussy clench around him once more. He's in fucking heaven.

But of course, he loves playing with his prey a little more.

The moment he feels you start flutter, he lifts the vibrator off your clit. It makes you gasp.

Then he thrusts his hips upwards, pressing against your sensitive spots. You watch the way his cock just disappears in you, all the way in, and it's starting to make you light-headed.

“Can your little vibrator make you make that face, kitten?”

You see the tear stains that streak down your face, your eyes still watery. Fuck, of course it doesn't.

“Maybe”, you answer shakily, and you watch his eyes fucking glow right before you in the mirror.

Sylus laughs.

“I guess I should change that, right?” He responds. His fingers are now on your throat, and his other hand lay flat on your thigh.

“Then I'd better make sure I make you see fucking stars. Fuck you hard and good, right?”

His fingers tighten around your throat.

Sylus is a fucking menace.

You don't even remember the existence of your vibrator. Not when Sylus is fucking the ever-loving shit out of you from below, and that you're watching it through the fucking mirror–every thrust detailed perfectly under the lights, his fingers cutting oxygen from you from time to time.

He's forcing you to cum with his dick.

And it's fucking working..

Much thanks to the horrible edging he's done to you, you're a fucking overstimulated mess–so sensitive and broken that when you're about to flood, you're begging him.

“Gonna cum, Sylus, please. I'm gonna cum so much. Fuckkkk-”

It fountains out of you and pushes him out, spraying all over the mirror and the sheets. You don't know what Sylus is muttering in your ears but you know he's fucking slapping your pussy, more fluids spraying out to his satisfaction.

After the clear fluids, only the thick cream comes after, and Sylus doesn't hesitate to slide his cock back in, filling you up once more, cream settling and slicking down his shaft with every thrust. Your thighs are still twitching from how fucking good it feels.

“Have I told you that I adore ruining you so much? Because I do adore ruining you so much, sweetie”, he groans. His face contorts in pleasure so fucking beautifully in the mirror while he bottoms out in you, his cock twitching and letting thick streams of warm cum filling you up. He lets himself stay in your pussy for a second or two, before he pulls out, only a thin string of cum linking his cock and your pussy.

Sylus forces you to watch his fingers once again pull open your pretty folds, and thick white seeps out of your hole in loads.

You see him plant a kiss on your temple before he effortlessly scoops you up to wash up with him.

You swear you didn’t leave it in his room this time round. You learned your lesson. When Sylus had his butler change out the soiled sheets, you had pocketed back your vibrator and kept it in a safe part of your room so Sylus wouldn’t get his hands on it again.

At least, that’s what you thought, because the vibrator seemed to have disappeared again.

Shit, did you have to intrude into Sylus’s room again? Well sure, he was gone for a couple of days, so you used his bed for a couple of days…but you were sure as hell that you brought the vibrator back with you when you on the day Sylus came back.

Unsuccessful with the search in Sylus’s room, you return back to yours, wondering if the mansion had just sucked up the vibrator into thin air.

That is, until you see Sylus on your bed.

With your vibrator in his hands.

#l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #qin che

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ozzgin · 24 days ago

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content: gender neutral reader, horror, mildly NSFW; part 1 here

You offer the young man on the sofa a cup of tea, doing your best to ignore the gargantuan shadow looming right behind the unsuspecting guest. The creature is fixated on you, eyes narrowed to slits from the toothy grin spread onto its drained face.

Your imaginary friend hasn't stopped smiling ever since that evening. You were initially hesitant to lose your virginity in such bizarre circumstances; you'd expected, for starters, that it would be a fellow human standing above you, not a nightmarish monster that has haunted you since childhood.

His cold, clawed hands felt like a death grip on your shoulders, and you could almost sense a terrified scream knotting inside your throat. Yet, his hold on you was quick to relax. He could tell you were afraid of his sudden intrusion, so he continued with much gentler pleas.

In truth, you always knew your companion was horrifying. Once or twice, when you were a kid, he'd threatened to eat you up, pulling your little fingers between his razor teeth as you sniffled and apologized for upsetting him. You tried to get rid of him many times, stomping your feet and shouting at him to leave your home forever. Ironically enough, it was always you who called him back. Your days felt empty without his croaking voice, without his eerie, yet comforting presence following behind. Thus, eventually, you'd crawl into the cupboard and whisper his name, awaiting his return.

This was the memory that flooded your mind while his crooked limbs embraced you tightly. Indeed, despite his frightful way of being, it was you who yearned for his affections. With a sigh, you gave in to his touch, and it wasn't long before you clung to his frame with desperate need.

That is to say that ravaging you put him in a rather fantastic mood. So much, in fact, that he gleefully allowed you to bring a coworker over once you expressed your desire for more friends. This was meant to be a casual outing, observed closely by your beloved.

"Say," the acquaintance remarks with a cheeky whistle, "how comes you're single?"

Don't do this, you think, your face turning pale.

"It's just, I know I would date you if I had the chance," he concludes boldly, leaning back in his seat.

Ah, there it is. Your lips curl in a pitiful smile, and you pretend not to notice the grotesque arms wrapping around the man. There's no point in interfering when your monstrous partner is angered.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," you respond, visibly deflated. "My partner won't appreciate the impertinence."

"I thought you lived alone?"

The coworker's head abruptly tilts back, features twisting into a horrified grimace. Your dearest, you see, is not quite the traditional imaginary friend. It's not a common occurrence, yet something you've noticed throughout the years - that, in exceptional conditions, other people may see him too.

The heavy, silent tension is only broken by the sound of a rumbling stomach, followed by the groan of bones as the jaw opens itself loose. He's hungry.

#yandere imaginary friend #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia #horror

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hoshigray · 10 months ago

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But like…sugar daddy!Nanami bending you over his pool table and just fucking your brains out🙈‼️

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: missed writing for nanami, let's gooo!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: sugar daddy! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sex on a pool table - finger sucking - lingerie - breast fondling + nipple play - standing (bent over) position - praise - Daddy kink - pet names (baby, good girl, honey, love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - protected sex (bc he's a gentleman, lol) - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“—Mmmph! Ohhh…Kent—Oooh!”

“Yes, baby…God, you look so good.”

“Your fingers; you’re going too…Mmmm…”

Being a sugar baby is a blessing in its own way. Not having to worry so much about your financial situations as they’re taken care of in your day-to-day life can be a bit overwhelming to comprehend in the days you forget entirely; however, you can’t lie that it’s not a nice lifestyle to live in. All your money troubles no longer being a constant weight on your shoulders, moved aside for you to enjoy your life as freely as you wish compared to before.

And what’s better is that the man taking care of said troubles was indeed a miracle worker — and quite the looker. Nanami Kento, your sugar daddy, took you in when you put your online advertisement looking for a sugar daddy, and you can only thank the stars above for such a wonderful man to come falling from the heavens above to put your mind at ease.

And trust and believe that he’s done so in ways more than one.

He had you bent by his pool table in the living space of his penthouse, your legs spread for him to have your skirt lifted to your waist. It’s easier for his hand to go to your lacy panties and slide his fingers in to meet your folds. And after a few minutes, he’s already made you a complete mess just by the thickness of his digits.

You squirm, gripping the billard stick that rests on the velvety skin of the pool table. “Hahhhn, ohooo, stoop, don’t rub there—Hic…!” Your hands grip the shoulder of his work shirt.

“Oh? Don’t like it when I do…this?” The blunt of Nanami’s fingertips scrapes the upper wall of your vaginal walls with a curled motion, and you lament with the jerk of your thighs. “But all I’m doing is rewarding my baby.”

His reward was specifically targeted to what you were wearing. Your opened buttoned-up shirt exposed your recent purchase of a new lingerie set; the complex design of the intimate clothing and the bold hue of the color–your favorite color–complimented your skin enchantingly. The blonde man behind you couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off you the moment you meekly showed off the bra of the set.

“And judging by how tight you’re squeezing my fingers,” he says to your ear while another graze of your inner walls has you arch towards him. “You seem to love this, right, honey?” His free hand was groping one of your breasts; the material of the laced bra felt pleasant to the touch along the squish of your mound.

“Hoooh, ohhGod, Kento, please,” you were a whimpering mess literally in the palm of his hand; he’d made you come once already, so your insides had yet to subside from the acute height that kept you trembling to his touch. “I caan’t, no moooore…If you keep up, I-I’ll—“

“What?” He kisses your cheek, nearly having you give to your knees. “Don’t wanna cum on my fingers?” You shook your head hurriedly, enticing your neck for him to lay more gentle kisses. “What do you wanna cum on then, sweetpea?”

You use your hips to answer, grinding your wet southern lips on the zipper of his expensive, linen dress trousers. Yet, while he returns the motion with synced ruts to your chasm with the tent of his groin, it’s safe to say he doesn’t mind the mess.

“This,” you moan with more rubs on his pants. “I wanna cum on you, Kent. Please, lemme cum on you…”

The sound of his chuckle has you twitching on his digits, wailing when he stretches your opening with a scissoring motion. “Good girl, asking so nicely…” With a hum, he withdraws his fingers from your warmth and brings your pricy underwear down to your thighs, brushing its garters. After bringing his trousers down and freeing his erection from his briefs, he grabs for the condom from his pocket to release from its wrapper. Once the rubber is on and fitted, Nanami guides his cock to the hole of your vagina.

The insertion of the cockhead has you gasping sharply, the cue stick in your grasp being the only thing you can use as security as your sugar daddy pushes every inch of his shaft inside you. You could never get used to the girth, the stretch of his limb so euphorically good, and the graze of the tip on the sensitive itches that make you hiccup. And the hilt of his pelvis meets your folds, sighing now that his entire cock is finally one with you.

He rocks back and forth leisurely, careful not to have you released on him just yet. Both his hands now meet your chest, fondling the flesh of your breasts in such a loving fashion that you whimper with the pull of his dick. God, the way his tip perfectly rubs on your inner texture has your brows furrowed and eyes sewn shut, wanting to truly indulge in the sensation that piques the delicate keenness of your nerves.

“Ahaaa, ohoofuck,” you jolt when he suddenly throws a rough thrust to your ass; the stick in your hand hits two Aramith billiard balls to the long rails of the table. “Yesss, right there, Kentoo…! Feel so good…”

“Yeah, honey?” The weight of him on your back as he bends his frame above yours, speaking softly to your ear as if wanting you to shiver on his chest. “Feeling good?” You nod hurriedly with the tweak of your nipples under the rough pads of his fingers. “All cute and good for me…Want me to make you feel even more good?”

“Yes…Daddy,” Oh my, you used the title—a step you were cautious to use at the moment yet albeit eager for the results. And the sand-haired man snaps his hips abruptly, causing a shriek to sneak past you without noticing.

He’s done with the slow pacing—the rhythm now increased to a rapid cadence that evokes more sounds to escape with every rock of your figure. Gosh, you hope you weren’t leaving scratch marks on this man’s pool table. It would make you feel terrible damaging his property. However, that sounds like a worry to check back later when you’re not squealing your mind out.

“—Oooh!! F–fffshiiiit, Daddy!” Your eyes roll up at the scrape of your G-spot. “N–Not shoo fa—Ahhhh! T’oo muuch…!”

“But you’re too close to slow down, love,” Nanami kisses your cheek before slithering his hand to stuff his fore and middle fingers into your mouth. You sounded too cute mewing for him while sucking on his fingers. And it doesn’t help that the erratic ruts to your cunt have you shrilling even more, drool trickling down to your chin just to fall on the table surface. “Come on, sweetpea, let it all out…Hnnmm, let me feel it.”

The piston of his pelvis smacking the skin of your ass with the thick digits stuffed in your mouth is too much to follow through, the climb of your climax becoming more complicated to avoid as the milliseconds rush away. You submit to your growing dizziness as your peak shakes you down.

The orgasm has you screaming out loud, your legs trembling with the flutter of your walls around Nanami’s dick while he slowly plunges himself in and outward, relishing the snugness of your slit. You suck on his fingers hard, nearly choking on spit when your body is experiencing the pulses at its own pace. Your elbows wobble, giving way for you to slump down and accidentally hit an object ball with the cue stick, knocking onto another and pushing it an inch away from a pocket.

Nanami chortles, straightening himself to massage your waist through your aftershocks. “Nice backspin, sweetheart.”

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wordsofwhimsy · 22 days ago

Text

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 1

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[🇦/🇳]⦂ I'm not specific with his looks or costume so this can be any variant that tickles your fancy! Just know tho that for me, that's Mohawk Mark 👀

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ Violence, possession

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ 100% inspired by reading tokoyamisstuff‘s Variant!Mark fic called “Second Chance At Love” (it’s a 2 parter and SO GOOD – you MUST check it out)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You were fucked.

There was no sugarcoating the situation – things were looking grim. Your breathing was labored as you laid face down on the pavement beneath a car. There was a constant rumble in the ground as buildings collapsed all around the city, the sound of desperate screams overlapping one another and turning into a stomach-churning cacophony of horror. The day had switched so abruptly from calm and peaceful to utter chaos that your brain didn’t have time to fully comprehend what was happening. One minute you were enjoying a light lunch at an outdoor café, and the next you were cowering for your life under some random vehicle.

From what you could gather from your small window of sight, someone who resembled the hero named Invincible was making short work of the city – why? You couldn’t even begin to guess. You were never overly interested in the life and goings on of supers, and made no effort to keep up with the latest happenings in their world. As far as you were concerned that was all way above your paygrade.

But even with your bare minimum knowledge, you knew that Invincible was one of the good guys. And from the few glimpses you saw, this super had a slightly different costume. Whatever the situation, you couldn’t help but kick yourself for choosing to stay in the city. Your mother had been nagging you for ages to move back to your rural hometown, claiming that it was safer and better for your health. You’d hate to hear what she was saying about the current events unfolding…

The cramped and shaded spot you were hiding in abruptly became open and sunny, the sound of creaking metal almost deafening overhead. “There you are!” a voice rang out. Turning slightly to look up towards the sky you’re greeted by the darkened silhouette of a super, the small shine of his teeth illuminated in the shadow. With one arm he held the car you were hiding beneath casually over his head. “I knew I’d find you somewhere around here.” He tossed the sedan into the café a few yards away with as much ease as you would have tossed a crumpled sheet of paper into a trashcan.

You curled into yourself, arms attempting to cover your head in response to the car crashing into your favorite lunch spot. In the midst of the mayhem you didn’t even notice you were off the ground until you realized all of the ear-splitting clamor seemed quieter and farther away. Cautiously lowering your arms, you opened your eyes to the view of Invincible’s face as he smirked down at you. Had you been saved? That is what heroes do of course, but to save just you in such a widespread catastrophe seemed… well, really fucking weird. “W-What’s happening?” you manage to choke out.

“A lot of fucked up shit,” he responded starkly, his stare raking across the destroyed landscape below. You kept your eyes fixed on him, refusing to see how far up you really were. After a second he returned his gaze to you, the almost wicked smirk still pulling at the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you so glad I got to you first?”

“F-First?” As if on cue, another voice identical to Invincible’s boldly stated,

“Find yourself a toy?” Spinning midair to face the voice, you were beyond confused to find another Invincible, this one different enough to clearly tell they were indeed not the same person yet somehow they were still identical.

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” the one holding you spat back.

“Didn’t mom teach you not to play with your food?” Alarm bells were blaring in your mind, and any thought of this being a rescue mission quickly melted into an abduction story.

“Didn’t she teach you how to shut the hell up?” The other Invincible choked down a bitter laugh before turning away from you and saying,

“Whatever. More universes for me to conquer then.” With a sonic boom he was gone, barreling through buildings on the streets below and leaving nothing but rubble and fire in his wake.

“What a prick…” The Invincible holding your mumbled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Before you could think to ask who the hell was that, who the hell was he, what the hell was happening, or anything at all, you were moving through the sky at a speed that left you hanging on just to breathe. You were cradled in his arms like a child, still curled into a tight ball with your fingers locked desperately into his suit.

After some time that felt like an eternity, Invincible made contact with solid ground. Feeling safe to lift your face up and away from his chest, you immediately recognized where you were. “Why are we in Fernville?” Setting you down on your feet, you felt your knees shake as if about to give way beneath you. You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself.

“I figured you’d want to see this place one last time.” Looking at him with wide eyes, you’d finally had enough of the confusion.

“For the love of god can you please tell me what the hell is going on?!” For the first time you saw an expression on his face that seemed almost out of place – heartache.

“Wait – you don’t remember me?”

“I mean, sure, I know of you. I think everyone knows who Invincible is.” Now his face turned to a look of mild relief.

“Ohh, I get it now. You and this Mark never got close.”

“Who the hell is Mark!” Your words came out more as an exclamation than a question, your feelings really running your actions at this point.

“You used to make drinks for me at Coffee & Capes.” You studied his face closely, and after several moments in dawned on you who he was. The tension in your eyebrows lessened.

“Oh wow, Mark... I remember you now. I-I can’t believe you’re Invincible!” And just like that his smirk was back.

“That’s what they tell me.” You shook your head in disbelief, your mind reeling to try and make sense of what was happening.

“But hold on, you said “this Mark”. What does that even mean?” He rolled his neck, eyes glancing wearily in the direction of town.

“It’s complicated. And honestly a lot to explain…”

“I mean,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “I guess I’ve got time.” He looked back to you again, this time showing a softness and almost adoration. You quirked an eyebrow, and then suddenly you were being gripped tightly by your upper arms and pulled into him. Without any further warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. It’s not gentle or tender. It’s forceful, full of a twisted need that leaves no room for you to breathe or think. His kiss felt like a claim, a possession rather than a moment of affection.

After a moment of being frozen in shock, you tried uselessly to pull away. Noticing, Mark pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression dark but oddly satisfied. "It’s been so long since I’ve had you…” His voice dropped, a sickly sweetness to it. "I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you."

【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｔｗｏ】

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible show #sinister mark #mark graryson fanfic #variant!mark #mohawk mark #maskless mark

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corkinavoid · 10 months ago

Text

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #batfam #fae rules #fae #tim drake #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #john constantine #changelings #danny is a little shit #bruce is a tired dad #am i going to write a fic with this au soneday #maybe #dialogue prompt #feel free to add on #cork prompts

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katiekatdragon27 · 5 months ago

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Hello Dandy's World fans.

I've recently been playing the game on Roblox with my friends and sibling, and it's been a ton of fun! Sure, I'm horrible at it, but it's the thought that counts ig.

And don't worry, I draw normal things too.

Like these things.

But it's mostly angst and unhinged things lol.

Below is a silly goofy Shiny Shrimp (that's the ship name I made up for Glisten x Shrimpo lol) AU that's just angst and tragedy and bullying Shrimpo emotionally lol:

OKAY SO CONTEXT: I thought it would be funny if Shrimpo had to keep Glisten company while exploring the floors but was also the one to witness his change into his full twisted form and almost die lol.

SO, I'd imagine it going down like this.

Basically, during one of the missions below, Glisten doesn't make it to the elevator in time. Shrimpo gets wind of this and gets very pissed. Despite everyone's protests, Shrimpo decides to join on of their runs to gain iquor, but mostly to fine Glisten.

And boy does he find him and all his shattered face glory.

Glisten: "Shrimpo!?" Shrimpo: "G-Glisten?" Glisten: "I knew you'd come back for me!"

Shrimpo attempts to leave the situation, seeing that Glisten is indeed twisted, despite Glisten's insistence that he is not. As Shrimpo tries to leave, Glisten gets more attached, constantly asking Shrimpo to not leave and to stay with him. Another person in the party (haven't decided who yet), tells Shrimpo to stay with Glisten and keep him company until all the machines are done. Shrimpo reluctantly agrees (and says "I HATE YOU" a couple times) and spends the rest of the round with Glisten.

However, the whole time Shrimpo's trying not to get attached because deep down, he knows it's too late for Glisten.

At the end of the round, everyone is called to go to the elevator. Shrimpo goes to leave. Glisten tries to block him off. Shimpo forces his way through. Glisten gets pissed and rips off his ribbons in anger, letting the infection take over his whole body. As Glisten's shifting, Shrimpo grabs one of his discarded ribbon pieces and beelines it to the elevator (as fast as Shrimpo can run). However, it is not fast enough, and Glisten easily catches up. He knocked over Shrimpo and lunges at him, ready take him out.

That's when Goob comes in. While everyone is trying to get the elevator to close faster, Goob grabs Shrimpo from below Glisten and pulls him into the elevator. Glisten hits the floor and breaks his face even more. As he gets up, he shouts at Shrimpo, who is shaking in Goob's arms watch Glisten break down.

Glisten: "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY WITH ME-- YOU PROMISED!"

Then, the doors close. Glisten is gone, and Shrimpo is angry and traumatized. How fun.

Shrimpo does not do well after the whole incident. He is much more reserved, but still just as angry. Except to Goob. Goob saving him gave Shrimpo a soft spot for the guy. Also, Goob let's Shrimpo vent to him like the supportive icon he is.

Shrimpo: I think I miss my partner, Goob.

But he's not the only toon Shrimpo talks to.

Vee: "Geez. This crying is ruining your "tough guy" persona."

My sibling gave me the silly idea to have Shrimpo and Vee be "friends" in this bc Shrimp hates Dandy waaaaaaaaaay more after the Glisten incident. And Vee hates Dandy in general, so boom, situation friendship. However, Vee sucks at being a supportive friend.

And some silly stuff my friends requested. Shrimpo chucking Dandy into the stratosphere and Goob being Goob. Healing the world one crappy doodle at a time.

Thank you for looking at the dooles and mindless rant of a grown adult about a Roblox horror game for 9-year-olds. You're a real one. Have a good day broksies.

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writerfromthestars · 6 months ago

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DPXDC PROMPT : ALFRED IS IMMORTAL

Alright. Don't get me wrong, I love au's where John Constantine is like "soul tax evader supreme", but hear me out.

Alfred.

Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. Who just doesn't die. The guy's immortal. The reason for this is that Alfred is awesome, so anytime he dies, whether it be from old age or a bullet or a world-wide catastrophe, he looks Death straight in the eyes and tells them that he will die when the day comes that no one needs him anymore, and not a second before, and then he just kinda pops back to life. Because let's face it, the batfam would fall to pieces without him.

So, Alfred Pennyworth has basically just been cheating death for centuries, by this point.

Needless to say, Death is none too pleased. Finally, Death goes to Phantom, the new king, who is much more reasonable than Pariah Dark was and who agrees to actually help.

Clockwork helps Danny set up a portal and he zaps into existence in the middle of a Wayne movie night. The bats are all prepared to fight this mysterious weirdo, but Danny ignores them and turns to Alfred, who he then begins lecturing about ghostly tax evasion and how defying death isn't a good thing, so he needs to file paperwork through the proper channels to stay as an immortal almost-God.

Alfred is chill, he plays cards with Clockwork once when he dies, so he knew this was coming, but the batfamily thinks that this mysterious entity is going to kill Alfred, so they're all panicking, trying to think of ways to avoid this horrible future. Alfred calmly listens to Danny, then he interjects.

"Sir, are you aware of the fact that there is a revenant on earth? One who is most certainly under threat of more paperwork than I, seeing as he has been using the Lazarus Pits to revive himself for millennia. I, however, have only been alive for a few hundred years, so I should think that he is a bigger priority. "

Danny glances over at Jason, doubtful. "He doesn't look several millennia old, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Certainly not, seeing as Master Jason is not. Besides, his Undeath License was filed. I have a copy of it if you need to see it, your Majesty?" Alfred answers, demure as always.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir."

Alfred leaves and returns, moments later with a light green glowing piece of paper. he hands it over to Danny, who examines it.

"Seems legitimate. I assume you filed it during one of your many encounters with Death?"

"Indeed. I have it on good authority, however, that the other revenant, a man by the name of Ra's Al Ghul, has not renewed his License in at least the last half millennia, most likely longer."

Danny sighs. "Where can I find him."

"Nanda Parbat. The signature is impossible to miss."

"Alright, Mr. Pennyworth. I will return once he is dealt with, be it by filing his paperwork or returning him to the Infinite Realms."

"Very well. I will be ready." Alfred answers.

Danny opens a portal to the area around Nanda Parbat and then another, which plops him down right in front of the Demon's Head himself, in a strategy meeting with his daughter and several commanders.

They all raise their weapons, but he just basically grabs Ra's by the ear and tugs him through a Lazarus Green portal, lecturing him about tax evasion and paperwork and bureaucracy the whole time. The League is thrown into uproar, and Ra's is set down in a room with all his overdue paperwork from the past few thousand years. He feels a little bit like crying; if he had known immortality meant this much paperwork, he would've just died, honestly.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, everyone is crying, because they think Alfred is going to die, Jason is confused about the whole revenant Undeath Certificate thing, Bruce is trying to make contingency plans, Tim is contacting the Justice League, and Alfred is planning out his defense and going through every ghostly law loophole he can think of because if he leaves these emotionally constipated crime-fighting vigilantes, he knows that the house that Martha so loved will go up in flames within a month.

Eventually, Danny comes to get Alfred for his ghostly court trial/hearing or whatever, and Alfred says goodbye to Bruce and everyone, goes to the Infinite Realms. Clockwork is on his side, and Alfred ends up winning the court case, on the condition that now that the has an Undeath License, he actually renew it every twenty years, like he's supposed to.

A week later, Alfred returns, crashes his own funeral, and explains that no, he will not be dying anytime soon.

Two weeks after Alfred's return, Constantine shows up at the manor basically begging to learn how the hell he managed to avoid death, and not only that, win a damn court case against them.

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strwberri-milk · 1 month ago

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can you make a scenario where MC called the LI’s during night then she’s crying and sobbing mess through the call? i wanna see how would they react <3

honestly i love these LMAOO also totally you shuold check out midnight blues!! its a raf fic i wrote thats got a similar premise to this

Zayne's first response is going to be to get you to cry a little less so he can figure out what the problem is. He'll try to give you a task to focus on - naming something you can see, smell, feel, etc. until you're able to speak with him. He hates that he's caught at work right now but also glad that at least he's on call while in the hospital so he technically has a moment between operations at this point in time. He'll sit with you as long as he can on the phone until you calm down, setting the phone beside him as he works to give your tired brain something else to focus on. If he's able to he'll drive over to your home to comfort you, holding you securely against his chest and running a gentle hand along your back.

Xavier is by your side in an instant. He immediately scoops you up in your arms - and you're so confused as to how he got there so quickly that you just. Stop crying. That doesn't stop him from comforting you though, his soft voice definitely great for some bedtime ASMR as he talks to you about anything he can think of. He...doesn't have much to say because he's not a big talker but you appreciate how hard he's trying.

Rafayel's going to want to be by your side - just depends on where he is. If he can, he'll drive right over to you and keep you company but if he's across the world then he'll stay on the phone with you and talk your ear off, definitely loud and distracting enough for you to fall asleep again. He only feels his heart settle when your breathing does too, watching/listening to you sleep with a soft smile.

Sylus is going to be at your side too - just not as quickly as Xavier is. He'll come by with some small treats but primarily, his focus is to hold you close and press soft kisses to your forehead. He'll tease you a little for needing him so badly but that's only to make you laugh and smile, internally feeling incredibly happy that your instinct is indeed to seek him out.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #zayne x reader #lads zayne x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #xavier x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #lads xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader

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webbluvrsugar · 2 months ago

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earlyseasons!spencer making you squirt.

cw: doesn’t mean sub!spencer, it’s more like eager Spencer experimenting on reader, written mostly for funsies.

Every since you and Spencer have been messing — fucking — around, you’ve noticed that he’s been a little shy, at least at first, his touch has been gentle but also… experimental, the way he looks at you when you’re under him and pushes you just a little harder almost makes you feel like like he’s studying you, testing something on you. But he’s a profiler, he’s learned that you don’t mind, so when he comes with the proposition of trying to make you squirt, you’re doubtful, specially as he pushes you down on your bed — already naked.

“Spencer, you don’t really need to do this, I —“ you try to speak but he’s quick to interrupt you, his hands running down your thighs.

“I know, I just.. I just want to try something new, just for a bit,” he hushes, eyes looking up to you for approval as he puts away his glasses and when Spencer says ‘just for a bit’ he is indeed just… lying, lying to your face.

His tongue licks a fat strip up your folds, it’s bold, something that he’d at first would hesitate to do, gently circling your clit before he attaches his lips onto it, gently sucks and his fingers go up to spread you further.

Spencer’s tongue feels good, but by now, you know that he would’ve already tried to stick a finger or two in you, but he doesn’t, it almost seems like he’s trying to reach this personal goal of his all with his mouth, and he’s doing a good job at it, because his tongue prods at your entrance and you arch your back, softly moaning, head throwing back and meeting your pillow.

“How does that feel?” He questions as if you need to answer for him to know it.

But still, you nod again, “Good,” you whisper, hand going down to grab at the sheets.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He grins, cocky, before his mouth latches onto your cunt again.

He devours you, nose bumping into your clit as his tongue precisely chooses where to run through, your breath being taken from your lungs when it caresses your insides one more time, the warm tip of the muscle moving within you.

“Spence,” you whimper, your knees struggling to keep themselves in place as he pulls back and pays attention to your swollen pearl one more time.

“Close?” He asks, tongue licking up a few more times through your folds, trying to get all up in there.

“Mh — Mhm,” you moan, a pleased sigh following suit.

“Did you know that —“ he pauses, “statistically, only thirty-five to fifty percent of women have experienced squirting mid sex—“ he presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt. “But it depends on the method, I’ve read about it, we can try and see if this will be the one for you.”

And for someone who’s so used to talking, Spencer finally goes to quiet after a while and focus on your pussy, paying extra attention to what you like, guiding himself with your moans and gentle curses.

“Spence—“ with that, he thinks this really might be his chance of getting you to do it the first try, so his lips wrap around your clit one last time, only letting go when he hears a hushed cry of his name escape your lips— “Spencer!” A stream of fluid expels from you, and he watches in awe, slightly tilting his head as your body shivers and writhes right before him.

His hands gently caress your thighs, fingers letting go of your folds, his eyes finally meeting yours when you take a breath and before you can speak, he notes;

“Let’s do it again, maybe you’ll do it quicker if I actually use my fingers…”

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somnoir · 3 months ago

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Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 4

Part 3 | Masterpost

Danny wasn't expecting for Red Hood to corner him. He would be lying when he says he wasn't panicking. First of all, they had quite literally strung up the bodies of prominent figures of the court of owls in very public places, then proceeded to order Technus to spread information about the court and their wrong doings.

The next step of the plan had been to publish a list of names—members of the court. Rich fruitloops that they were going to rely on the public to destroy. If the public and the GCPD couldn't do it, Danny had his ways to do so. Hauntings usually drove people mad if done a certain way.

But nevermind that!

His heart was practically trying to escape his chest—not that it was beating but it was there, in spirit (ha). He just wanted to see if little Emily and her sister were being fed by their mom and check if he needed to whisk the kids away and have them reside in one of their headquarters. Dan was more than willing to convert one of their facilities into a safehouse for children. Jeremy and some others were the ones who usually dealt with the house—others being parents are older siblings who got into crime for their family's.

"Phantom."

"Hood."

AAAAHH! The hot revenant really was looking for me! Thankfully, none of his siblings were there to witness how Danny was silently punching the air in absolute joy. Fuck yeah! Hot Crime Lord!

"Lemme guess... The big bad bat ain't too happy about the trouble we caused?" Danny chuckled, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes. Organized crime was much better than his kingly duties, especially when it wasn't him playing the leader. Dan was doing pretty good as a boss, though Danny was reluctant to admit that in honor of his role as a younger brother.

"Sure as hell." Red Hood snorted, "But that ain't why I'm here, ghosty."

Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for the other man to keep talking.

"You dealt with the court. Wraith led the mission... Personally. Not you. Not anyone else. It was Wraith, right?" Red Hood hummed, his helmet and modulator hiding everything. It frustrated Danny.

The mission was indeed led by Dante himself. But the operation had been split into three. Dan's team (Skulker, Amorpho) taking on the leaders of the court and disposing of them immed. While Danny's team (Wulf and Ember) were tasked to deal with the talons. Meanwhile, Elle's team (Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow) were tasked with saving the kids that weren't turned into Talons. But even then, Dan took full command of the situation.

It had been Dan who personally hung the Judge of the Clocktower and smeared his blood with some rhyme. It had been Dan who took charge of the remaining Talons once their leaders were dead and hung.

But it has been Danny who took the main Talon, dragged their body to Arkham, and painted a message in glowing, neon green paint. Maybe mixed with a bit of Ecto for better effects.

At the moment, all of the living Talons were in another one of their facilities—one outside of Gotham. Dan was a paranoid bastard, rightfully so, and had ordered the rehabilitation of these mindless soldiers outside of the Bats' territory. They didn't need anyone meddling with this. Not when it was Dan's first time choosing rehabilitation over elimination. In truth, these Talons were just innocent kids turned into weapons by the real monsters.

"Yeah, Wraith personally led this one." Danny pressed a hand against his hip, defiantly looking at the brick house that was the Red Hood. God, he almost didn't want a growths spurt if this was their height different. "Heard you've been snoopin' around, Red. What? Didya miss me?" It was teasing, a joke. He didn't expect much from it. He leaned in, grinning even when his mouth couldn't be seen, before pulling back as fast as he could.

But Hood sighed, letting out the hottest quiet laugh he could ever muster and tilted his head. "Yeah... Kinda missed you, ghosty. The kids were lookin' for yah. Emily was screamin' for yah on the roof two days ago."

Danny blinked.

Oh....

OH!

"Sure, sure." He immediately dismissed it, trying his best to make sure that his fast didn't go all purple, because apparently, that's the ghost version of blushing. Shit. "But the big bad Bat ain't too happy with us, yeah? I mean. Stringin' up the Judge and Talon gets you on his naughty list."

"Can't say he's pleased about it."

"Yeah, well, we ain't apologizing for that shit. The court wasn't on our radar before but they took one of our kids. Wraith is known for being one hell of a monster when it comes to kids." Danny scoffed, "They were turning them into weapons, Hood. I'd be okay if you want to throw them into Arkham, but the Judge and Talon? Somethings are more important than morals."

And Danny fucking knows that. He knows that some things should be out above morals, that they should be more important. His parents had failed to do that, failed to put their family above their morals and beliefs. The reveal was never going to be good. Not when Maddie Fenton fell to her knees, unable to accept that her baby died and demanded for him to give her back her son. It had hurt when she couldn't accept that Danny was Phantom and Phantom was Danny.

It got worse when they found out about Dan and Elle. They were hysterical. They stopped eventually. No more hunting, no more trying to protray ghosts as evil. They stopped helping the GIW. But they still couldn't accept it. They just vanished after that, leaving Danny and Jazz with Vlad, who had thankfully redeemed himself.

Danny knows what it meant to put something above your morals. Knows how valuable that is.

He shook his head, once again getting his head out of his heart and turning back to Red Hood. "Get to the point, Hood. You weren't looking for me for no reason."

"Well I've got someone who wants to meet the Wraith. The Court... They were almost involved in the court and was targeted." Red Hood tried to explain, making sure to sound as vague as possible. Danny could—kinda—understand why he was. Keeping someone anonymous until they couldn't. "Was wonderin' if you could set up a meeting. I don't think there's anywhere in Gotham that's basically neutral ground at this point but I'm willin' to bet on an area that you guys won't start a fight."

Danny paused, trying to simplify that damn request in his head. Hood wanted a meeting with Wraith, to introduce someone. And about the location? He was right. The entirety of Gotham was someone's haunt, every part of it was claimed. Even when the people were living, some were so damn liminal that certain areas were basically haunts now. Crime Alley being one of the biggest areas to end up becoming a haunt.

He could only think of three places that could somehow be considered their haunt: The Hill, where their main base was, the Narrows where Dan was trying to take over Arkham to make the security better, and possibly the Docks and Harbor. But there wasn't a solid claim on any of them, except for the Hill. It was one of the poorest and most crime-ridden areas of Gotham. The locals were hostile as hell when they first arrived, but after the Ghosts started cleanin' up the streets, helping people by offering a steady income, and keeping the kids safe, they eventually welcomed the Ghosts with open arms. It helped when Dan started weeding out people that were extorting the area.

That area was a no-go, obviously. Not their base.

"Gimme a second. Gotta ask about this before discussing a location." He whipped out his phone, modified perfectly by their resident technopath, Tucker-fucking-Foley.

D1: Got Hood here.

D2: Ew

D2: I don't wanna hear you moon about your revenant

D1: you're a bitch

D1: fuck you

D1: 🖕🖕🖕

D1: but that's not it

D1: he wants to set up a meeting. Said he'll introduce someone that Court tried recruiting

D2: Bet Vlad's castle that it's Nightwing

D2: he fits the Court's recruits

D1: what??

D1: all of the bats fit the MO

D2: yeah but Nightwing's the most flexible one. Idk

D2: Gut feeling

D2: Tell em I'm willing

D2: only on Sunday tho.

D1: K

"Good news! He's willing to show his ugly mug."

Red Hood snorted.

"Bad news—" and now he stiffened, "Wraith's only available on Sunday. Busy sched, see."

"Alright," Hood sighed, "Where are you guys willing to meet?"

Again, that was a problem. Danny might suggest the Bowery but that was too close to Hood's haunt. It wasn't until he felt the tug in his shadow that he goes stiff, blinking before he saw Hood's shadow move behind him. Instead of a hulking man, it was transforming into a classy looking woman—it reminds him of that lady from Resident Evil. The shadow moved, holding up what seemed to be a cigarette. The blankness of darkness morphed and now there was a white grin spread across her face.

Lady Gotham adored her knights but he was sure Red Hood was her favorite. Danny suspected that the city spirit had a hand in his resurrection—to which he was sure that had paperwork he'd need to process soon. But the city spirit was accommodating and welcomed them into her territory, with the promise that their intentions wouldn't turn malicious and destroy the city.

Danny couldn't help but laugh, eyes glowing green and Hood took a instinctive step back. "Heard you bats and birds got yourselves a cave." He tilted his head. "Gotham Cemetery. It's where you'll find ghosts."

The cemetery. The one area that was a haunt to all the dead and never the living.

Before Red Hood could even say another word, Danny floated of the ground, mockingly saluted the revenant, and phased through the wall.

NAILED IT!

"Lil' wing, I'm not sure about this. Doesn't it sound creepy that they want to meet in the cemetery?"

"I have a theory. I am 90% sure that the Ghosts of Gotham are actual ghosts."

"Why's you say that?"

"I had Tim and Babs help me investigate the other known members. All of them can't be detected by cameras cause the footage gets all fucked up. So we had to resort to teaditional means. Seriously, the demon brat and I had to follow that Johnny and Kitty duo around Gotham just so he could draw them properly! I kid you not, I saw those two phase through other vehicles when they were zoomin' around the streets."

"And?"

"There's a possibility that those two are from Gotham. But get this... All the matches are people who were confirmed to have died decades ago. Like... When B was a teenager."

Dick flinched. Okay. The new rogue organization might actually be made up of legitimate dead people.

"Shit."

"Right back at you."

The cemetery was already in their line of vision. Even if Dick Grayson was the target of the Court, Nightwing came with the package. Meeting Wraith as Nightwing was pretty reasonable if you had to ask him. And Jason had done his best to hunt down Phantom after Bruce forbade them from interacting with any of the ghosts unless they were starting trouble first.

Hopefully, this meeting would go well...

The cemetery is quiet once they start walking. The shadows seemed to be more lively, moving and rising like curious children wanting to catch a glimpse.

"BOO!"

His escrima sticks were already in his hands and Jason was already cocking his gun.

Phantom was floating there, upside down as Lazarus green eyes stared back at them. The obvious echo of laughter making the graveyard more eerie.

"Quit that!" Jason snapped, glowering at Phantom but slowly lowered his guns.

"Awww! C'mon now, Hood. You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost—but a really good-looking one!" Phantom promptly runs his fingers through his hair, winking at Jason before laughing it off like it was nothing.

"You're horrendous."

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm supernatural and beyond this world!" Phantom proudly declared, clearly on the roll. But Lazarus green eyes fell to Nightwing. The reaction reminded Dick of a curious cat.

"Shit, it really was Nightwing you were talking about. I owe Wraith a hundred bucks now, birdie." Even though his mouth couldn't be seen, Dick was pretty sure that Phantom was pouting. "C'mon, birds. The boss is talking to some ghosts over there."

"So... You're really ghosts?" Jason asks, walking beside the floating ghost while Dick trailed back a couple of steps.

"Kinda? There are different kinds of ghosts, really." Phantom shrugged, going silent again. "We usually help out the other ghosts that can't meddle with the living realm. Lotta ghosts in Gotham with unfinished business."

"What kind of business?" Dick frowned.

Phantom turned to him, mischief in his eyes as he pressed a finger against the place where his lips should be. "Now, now. I ain't tellin' you, birdie. Client confidentiality and all that."

Jason grumbled something unintelligible.

"Now that ain't nice, Hood."

And then Jason grunts in response.

"C'mon, Hood!" The way Phantom whined, Dick was very sure he was pouting. "Tsk, tsk. Stop ghostin' me, wouldya?"

Dick held back a snort. While Jason's glare could be felt through his mask.

"What? That wasn't so bad! Wow... This crowd is dead."

Jason groans and Dick didn't even hide his laugh. Okay, maybe Phantom was pretty okay if you could ignore the fact that his group was pretty homicidal if needed.

"And there he is!" Phantom sounded almost mocking, the tone so strangely familiar to Dick. (Twas the sound of a younger sibling rolling their eyes). "Wraith! Brought the birdies!"

"Seriously?" Jason groaned again but stopped. Dick didn't think he was being unreasonable because holy shit!

Wraith had the same white hair as Phantom with skin paler than the damn moon. But unlike Phantom, the ends of his hair looked like fire. Red eyes instead of green... And built like a brick house, because what the fuck was that?! He was taller than Jason and Bruce! Maybe even standing taller than Superman if he stood a little straighter.

He wore the same monochrome outfit that Phantom wore and a mask that covered his mouth. With round, red tinted glasses over his eyes. Wraith was talking to the air, well, the dead. Dick could see the faint outline of a young woman.

The fucking fridge, Wraith, turned towards them once Phantom called for him.

"You fuckin' twerp, can't you see I'm still talkin'? Rude little shit."

And Dick may have realized something else. Oh. OH! That's why it was so familiar, that behaviour and mocking tone! Fucking shit, were Wraith and Phantom brothers?

Red eyes were soon trained on him. Wraith looked him over once, before humming with a smirk.

"So I was right... Nice to meet you, birdie."

Masterpost

#Gotham's newest Crime Lord #Oh... Oh but also capitalize it!#dick grayson #dpxdc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #jason todd #crossover #nightwing #red hood #dan phantom #The Phantom Brows call their respective robins “Birdie”#THEY FINALLY FUCKING MEET!#Dick was just briefly third wheeling Dead on Main #Dick's older bro instincts lagged but he clock that sibling shit eventually #Jason is tired of the puns #danny is not #The “oh...OH” trope but make it capitalized and colored

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