#like a normal human being until this fucking trip

[ratcandy]

had a really epic cry on a balcony last week and I’ve been longing for that balcony ever since . Was so cathartic I need to go back there

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[monstersflashlight]

Bear daddy

This is @teratophilex fault.

Were-bear (POV) x gn!witch x gn!reader || oral sex, comfort sex (kinda), hair pulling, daddy kink

After his wife left him, he had to swallow his pride and move in with you and your partner, fucking rent prices were way too high to move on alone. That’s how he, a were-bear significantly older than the two of them ended up sharing a house.

And you two were so fucking pretty it was driving him insane to share spaces with you. He had known for a long time that he was bisexual, but never acted on it… It was another time, harder to suck a guy’s dick without being judged. But now… Now things were different, and it was driving him insane to live with the prettiest witch and the prettiest human he’d ever seen.

So he was a bit… Pent up.

That’s why, when the witch left the cabinet door open, he snapped at them, telling them to act like a fucking normal person. He saw the flash of hurt crossing their eyes and felt bad immediately. He felt like shit because it wasn’t their fault that he was so frustrated, he was just a perverted old bear living with the two best looking creatures that he might or might not want to rail until they were crying.

“Okay, daddy, calm down,” they told him, trying to make a joke about it. It didn’t make him feel any better.

Something inside of him, that had been dormant for the longest time, woke at that moment. “What did you just call me?” The edge of danger was right there, under the surface. They didn’t know what that meant for him, what that word did to him...

“It was a joke! Chill, dude.” You told him, trying to diffuse the situation. He ground his teeth together so hard it could be heard, making you nervous. They stared at you in silence, and a big smile grew in your pretty face. “Or maybe it wasn’t… Did you like it? Do you like when we call you daddy?” He grunted and you smirked. Caught. Fuck. “Do you want to punish us, daddy?” The innuendo in your voice made his blood boil and his dick to get as hard as marble. He grunted and you smirked bigger.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked between you two, his ears twitching on the top of his head. “Please, don’t do this to me.” He was suffering, trying not to be a pervert but wanting nothing else but to take you two on a bear-ride.

“What are we doing, daddy?” The witch said, equally smug and teasing. Approaching you slowly, and kissing the side of your neck, his hand traveling behind you and groping your ass. You groaned and he grunted, his dick getting even harder, already leaking. You two were playing with him and good goddess if he didn’t want to be played with. He wanted that more than anything else.

“You are starting something you don’t want to finish, behave yourselves.” He tried, but the smirk in your faces was very clear. Fuck, he was in big trouble.

“Who said we don’t want to finish it?” You asked, slowly approaching his big body. He felt massive in front of you, so tall that he had to look down when you were close to him. So close he could feel the heat of your body as you slowly touched his furry chest, caressing him, feeling him up and squeezing his big pecs.

“What?” He asked, confused as fuck.

The witch approached, too. Repeating the same movements and caressing his chest. They were bolder, so when they pinched his nipple, he groaned loudly, creating a butterfly effect and making both the witch and you to groan in response. The air was filled with sexual energy, saturated with it. To the point that you could almost touch it, taste it.

“I said what I said,” you told him, your hand rubbing over his other nipple.

He looked at you two in front of him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Are you sure?” Your heart beating so fast he could hear it.

“Yes, daddy.” Your witch partner said at the same time you let out a soft: “We want to make you feel better, daddy.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at you squirming before him. “On your knees,” he ordered. You two almost tripped trying to fall to the ground as fast as possible. You looked sinful there, between his legs. And when he took his dick out, you two groaned, he was so fucking big. He looked good enough to eat. “So, I’m going to tell you how this is going to be, okay?” You two nodded, eager already. “I’m going to fuck your smart mouth.” He pointed at the witch. “And you are going to lick my balls.” You nodded eagerly, so aroused, your brain felt like underwater. “And then you’ll switch. So you both get what you deserve… a nice dick down your throat. Is that right?”

“Yes,” you said in unison.

“Yes, what?” He asked, looking down at you two like you were a gift from the heavens.

You two blushed and nodded slowly. “Yes, daddy.” A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine as he took the witch hair between his fingers and pulled softly.

You saw how your witch partner took him in their mouth, slowly bobbing up and down until they were fully settled inside. There were tears pooling at the corner of their eyes as the were-bear guided his movements, deep and steady, getting they breathe just enough to not faint. It was the best show you’d ever seen.

You were mesmerized by the movement of your partner’s head, their stretched mouth over his dick… He caressed your cheek and you looked up at him, questioning. He crocked and eyebrow, and you realized he gave you an order earlier. You blinked and launched for his balls instantly. You licked and sucked and, if his grunts and moans over your head were any indication, you two were doing a fantastic job at it.

“Switch,” he ordered.

He grabbed your hair next, his hand imposing but soft, his claws scratching your scalp in the best way possible as you took the tip of his cock in your mouth. He pressed your head down slowly, so slowly. He didn’t let you go faster, he was the one in charge and you could just wait and see what he did next.

He started easy, bobbing your head up and down but not too far, not too harsh… But at one particular good suck, he cried out and started going at it like a madman (or a mad-bear?). He fucked your face like a piston as you groaned and moaned, your partner’s face under yours, sucking his balls like they were his favorite snack.

The filthy sounds of sex were getting into your head and making you dizzy with desire. “Touch yourselves,” he said.

You pulled your head back until his dick was free. “But this is about you,” you said, your eyes teary after he hit the back of your throat multiple times. You looked like a mess, and it was driving him insane.

“It wasn’t a request, it was an order,” his authoritative voice did something to you two because next thing he knew both of you had your hands in your pants and were looking at him like he hung the moon. And good goddess if that wasn’t the best thing he had ever seen.

The two of you on your knees in front of him, face messy with saliva and tears and touching yourselves for him. He was on edge already just with that image. He grabbed your hair again and you opened your mouth, getting him to the back of your throat in one go. “Good, so good.” He chanted over you, making you grind your hips into your hand, so close.

He pulled your head back and grabbed your partner’s hair, holding you two close but away from his dick. He stared at you there, teary, messy and completely fucked out. He grunted, “come for me, now.” Just like if he clicked a button, you two came apart right there, kneeling on the floor between his legs.

When you came down from your orgasms, he asked, “look at me. Open your mouths, I want to paint you two like mine. I want to mark you.” His tone was feral, his fangs showing.

You groaned and your partner nodded eagerly, their mouth already close to the tip of his dick and their tongue out. You mimicked them, feeling naughty. He jerked his dick over your tongues, grunting and pulling at your hair like it was grounding him to earth. He came with a shout, warm cum hitting your tongues and making you groan. You kissed, sharing his come and making him groan like it pained to see you being naughty in front of him.

“We should do that again, daddy,” You told him, chuckling with a gravely voice, your throat sore.

“Yes, please,” your witchy partner agreed, their face completely pink.

“Yeah… Yeah, whatever you two want.” He sounded defeated, but the big smile in his mouth was more than telling.

[satorusugurugurl]

Could I request JJK men helping you masturbate? More specifically, it's late at night and reader masturbates, they wake up but are too tired to actually do anything so they just whisper in ur ear or just guide the toy with their hand 😇 Modern AU with Nanami, Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna if possible, thank you sm I love ur writing it gets me GOING everytime you post teehee!! 🩷😁‼️

Guide You

Summary: A modern!au when during a late night solo session gets spicy as JJK men help you get off. 🥴

Characters: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ryomen Sukuna, AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,492

Warning: Spicy, smutty stuff, masturbation, toy use, praising, language

A/N: Hi Nonnie! Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoyed it! I hope it wasn't too repetitive I kinda struggled for a bit in a couple of places! 🥲 but I loooove you thank you!! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Your husband was the best pediatric ortho doctor in the city, which came with its positives and negatives. He was paid well, loved what he did, and was able to spoil you. Rotten with gifts and luxurious trips. The downside was the hours and overtime he hated to put in and the fact that you rarely got to see you some nights.

This was one of those challenging weeks while he was on call because it seemed like every child in the city decided this was the week to break their bones. By the time his week was finally over, your poor husband was exhausted, mentally and physically

You lay in bed, gently stroking his snored into his pillow. His features were finally relaxed as he dreamed peacefully next to you. You loved seeing him relaxing, with a gentle look on his face as he finally got the rest he deserved. The poor guy was tuckered out, and when he got home, he promised to make up for the long week to you this weekend with his mouth and his cock

And you were desperate to have him

You both made several attempts this week to have a quickie in the morning, the kitchen, and the car ride to work, but each attempt was interrupted. It was like the worst kind of edging. When Nanami had gotten home tonight, you had the full intention of riding him until he passed out, but the moment you saw how tired he was, you decided your pleasure could wait until he was well rested.

That’s what you kept telling yourself: to not jump his bones, you could wait. You weren’t some Horndog that needed to be consistently fucked within an inch of her life. You could function as a normal human. Telling yourself that helped for a second before thoughts of pushing you against any surface and having his way with you had your short soaked and your pussy throbbing

Maybe you weren’t too strong

Squeeze your thighs together, rubbing some relief, but it was suddenly too hot, and your brain was buzzing too loudly at one in the morning. You needed to get off, but you didn’t want to wake your exhausted husband, which meant you needed the hell of your trusty wand vibrator

You pulled the blue toy out of your nightstand before slipping under the sheets. An orgasm would be enough to tide you over for the night. Tugging your shorts down your hips, pulling them around your thighs, you press the tip of the wand against your clit, turning it on the lowest setting. The buzzing vibrations had you moaning softly, tilting your head back against your pillow.

The simmering desire between your legs began to increase to a boil, fire, throbbing, making your legs twitch and tremble as your eyes tight, imagining being the one to touch you, bringing you this delicious pleasure that was burning hot. You pictured him slotted between your legs, tongue torturing the little bundle of nerves, while honey-brown eyes stared into yours, eagerly eating you out and driving you towards release. That image of your husband had you turning the speed to the toy up. The buzzing grew louder as you chewed on your bottom lip to hold back the moans, trying to

While you did your best to keep your moans silent with the sound of the vibrator muffled by the sheets, it was the squirming of your legs that caused your husband to stir next to you. Nanami hummed his eyes, opening them just in time to watch your mouth fall into an ‘O’ shape while your eyes shut tight. He blinks lazily, trailing down the curves of your trembling body, listening to the soft humming buzz of your favorite toy

His poor wife must be pent up. As much as he would like to roll over and fuck you into the mattress, he was too tired. He might not be able to fuck you, but he could still offering and helping hand.

You were in your fantasy that you didn’t realize Kento was right next to your ear. His breath flushed over your cheeks, his lips pressing against it. Feeling his warmth next to you and his lips on your skin, the smell of his body wash had you whimpering as you spread your leg

“Mm, that’s it, baby. Does that feel good?” Nanami whispers in your ear. “You’re trembling, and it must feel good.”

“It feels really good, Kento, so good.” Your leg shakes more as he buries his face in your neck, kissing it gently fuck

“Turn it up higher. Don’t tease yourself like that.” As Nanami’s hand wraps around the wand, he presses one of the buttons, increasing the speed to a higher setting. “You’ve been such a good girl. You deserve to cum.”

Your hips buck forward as your left-hand grips the sheets. You could feel the burning fire growing hotter and hotter between your legs, spreading down to the tips of your toes to your abdomen, where the kindling flames grow hotter. A coil tightened. You were so close, and Nanami was sleep-deprived, could tell. He turned the speed up higher with a moan, grinning against your skin as you inhaled sharply, legs clamping together as you gripped his forearm with your hand.

“Oh-Kento! Oooh fuck~ fuck I’m gonna cum! !”

“That’s right, let it go cum for me.”

“Nnngh!” Nails dug into his skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. “Oh my god! Oh my god, c-cumming~!.” Your husband chuckled, his breath warming the skin on your face as you both worked yourself down from the intense orgasm.

“Pent up, darling?”

You hum, nodding as you pull the toy away, turning it off before putting the wand on your nightstand with a pleased sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you up.” Large, calloused hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his body.

“No, you’re fine. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help out more.”

“That was hot enough to tide me over until you get some well-deserved rest.”

Nanami’s lips press against yours in a kiss as he shuts his eyes. “Then you better get some sleep. I have a week to make up for, so you’ll need all the rest you can get.” The promise of him ruining almost how you want, but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat had you falling asleep with him in your arms.

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend, was well known for his company, Six Eyes. A game developing company that produced some of the best video games of the era, making your rich boyfriend even richer. Gojo was constantly whisking you away on spontaneous trips. If you saw some new viral dessert in Canada, you both were off to try it. If you were stressed, no worries; a weekend in Fiji would fix that.

While his job paid exceptionally well and was stable, he also went on many business trips. The Jet Lag was real, but your boyfriend made it a point to try to readjust his sleep schedule whenever he got home, which sometimes meant he’d stay up close to twenty-four hours to do just that. Some nights when he got home, like today, he had been up so long that he was out like a light the second his head hit the pillow.

You didn’t mind. Just sleeping next to Satoru, wrapped in his arms, made up for the two weeks he was away. But being wrapped in his arms like you were right now also had downsides. His breath was hot against your neck as his chin rubbed that sweet spot where your shoulder connected to your neck, and his leg was firmly pressed against your sex.

God, you were so horny you felt like your whole body was on fire. There was no way you could fall asleep like this wet and needy. It would be awesome if your boyfriend was up and able to help you with your situation. But the rumbling of his snores clued you in that there was no hope for two A.M. quickies.

Taking matters into your own hands, you crawled out of his koala grip, reaching into your nightstand and pulling out your g-spot vibrator. God, you were so wet you didn’t even need lube. All you needed to do was rub the toy up and down over your folds before dipping the tip inside of you. You hissed out in pleasure before pushing the toy deeper inside of the tip, pressed firmly against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of you, the one that made you squirm. With a whimper, you turned it on and began thrusting it in and out of your tight pussy.

It felt so good, and it made your body burn hotter. The familiar coil in your abdomen began twitching to life. You hummed, rocking your head forward as you laid on your side gently, thrusting in and out of you faster, working yourself up to release, but you ran into the same problem you always did with a toy like this.

It got too intense.

You’d feel yourself getting close; your legs would clamp down together, making it nearly impossible for you to move the toy when you were trying to rub circles around your twitching clit. You would struggle to keep the rhythm pace and ultimately end up edging yourself endlessly.

“Fuck!” A harsh whisper sounded as you felt your orgasm slipping away again, your legs clamping together tighter. “Come on.” You were so close you could almost cry. The sweet release was just within your grasp and kept slipping away.

Biting down on your bottom lip, watching your trembling legs try to clamp together for the third time, making it almost impossible for you to move the toy in and out. If your vibrator were charging, this would have been much easier to do. But alas, your toy was dead, meaning you had to use your fingers while trying to thrust your toy in and out of you, feeling your orgasm for the third time. You were about to give up when an ivory hand reached between your legs, finding your clit with ease.

“H-Haaah, Satoru!” you gasped out as the warmth of his body snuggled closer against your side.

Gojo had been dreaming when you cried out in frustration, his eyes open, finding you struggling to reach that sweet release. He lay there momentarily, eyes still heavy as he debated oncoming to sleep when your voice broke. You sounded like you were going to cry and not in the way. So, fighting against the drowsiness, he inched closer to you, deciding to give you a helping hand.

The sharp circles you loved around your click while he forced his knee between your legs, forcing them to stay open, giving you the chance to fuck the toy faster into your heat. The stress and struggle on you were lifted as Toru rubbed his chin over that sweet spot on your shoulder before he trailed kisses down your neck.

“I got you.” his voice was thick sleep. “I got you; you can relax, sweetheart; you can cum~”

“T-Toru—” you whine out your hand, moving faster. “Satoru!”

Your boyfriend is leaning over your body, watching you drive closer to release. “That a girl~ don’t it up, don't stop.”

“B-But—”

“Shh~ relax, baby.” Gojo’s other hand reached under your body, his hand wrapping around yours that was thrusting the toy. “Keep moving like this, just like I do with my cock. You like it when I do that, right? When I that tight little cunt?” his lips brush over your shoulder as he moves the toy at a faster speed.

Your head tilts back as you feel the coil in your abdomen tightening.” C-Close—!” you whisper, eyes rolling back into your school as you beat up.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart? You gonna cum?” His husky breathes as you nod. “Good girlfriend, that’s it. I can feel your leg shaking. You’re gonna cum so hard.”

“T-Toru!”

“Yeah, yeah, baby, good girl, such a good girl~!” Satoru causes your body to convulse as your breathing catches in your throat. “Mhmm fuck!”

Your pulse was racing, causing both you and Satoru’s hand to still as you cum. Waves of pleasure send you rocking back against him the entire time you cry and shake, littering your shoulder with kisses until you gently pull the toy out with a satisfied cry. His hand rests over your hip, gently holding you as you toss the toy to the foot of the bed. There was always time to clean it later; you were afraid if you tried to get up on wobbly legs, you would most likely collapse on the floor.

Opting out of leaving the bed, you roll over to face Satoru. His eyes are heavy as he looks at you through white, luscious lashes with a gentle smile. Grabbing Satoru’s handsome face with your hands, you kiss him deeply, making him hum happily as he lazily kisses you back before you pull away.

“Thank you, Toru.”

“Mhmm~” his eyes finally shut as he rubs his face into the pillow before squeezing you closer to his body. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Satoru. Get some rest, honey.” Before those words leave your mouth, your boyfriend snores softly against the pillow with a gentle smile.

Geto Suguru:

The problem with dating an EMT was the fluctuating hours. Some weeks, you and Suguru worked the same hours on the same days, while others had him on the night shift. This week had been nothing by the night shift. You couldn't complain, though. At least he would have the next four days off to spend with you. You could go out on dates, fuck each other, and he could rest, catching up on the sleep he had been deprived of. You both usually did that, but tonight, there was a problem.

You were currently ovulating and unbearably horny.

Suguru had worked his ass off this week, having been on calls nonstop for the entirety of his 12-hour shift. Usually, he’d be raring to go, needing to take his frustrations out on you, but today has been hard, rough call after call. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes as a kid tissues off and made it straight to the bathroom to take a hot shower, but we’re probably passing out face first in bed.

You lay down next to him, pressing your lips together as you stared at his sleeping face. His hair fell over his eyes, and he hugged his pillow tight as his sweats hung low on his hips. One leg was underneath the sheets, while the other was bent near his chest. How was it legal for him to be this fucking hot. That wasn’t even the hormones talking. That was a straight fact.

The hormones were telling you to breed you until you cried. But Suguru’s pale skin in the dark circles under his eyes prevented you from waking him. Waking him up to satisfy your needs was cruel when you were perfectly capable of satisfying yourself.

As long as you could see his handsome face and his breath, it would be to keep you in the moment. He was out so hard he wouldn’t see you staring at him like you were some pervert while you got yourself off lying on your side facing him; you bit back a moan as you rubbed your favorite flexor toy over your opening before sliding it inside of you with a shiver

The toy was pressed firmly against your g-spot and clit. When turned on, it would flex, mimicking fingers moving inside of you. It was your favorite toy, one your boyfriend had bought specifically for you, which made this even hotter. Small whimpers left your mouth as your eyes focused on Suguru, who slept soundly across from you.

Doing something like this, masturbating in front of him without him, knowing had your walls twitching in pleasure

“Haaah—” wind, one hand, gripping the pillow behind your head while the other grasped at the sheets. The curling motion and vibrations made you wetter than you already were, which seemed almost impossible. Your arousal seeped out of you, coating your folds, thighs, and your favorite pink toy buried inside you, and the pleasure of doing it in front of your handsome boyfriend without his knowledge had you squirming, resulting in the toy slipping out of you.

“H-Huh?” The feeling of the vibrations against that spongy spot inside of you vanished. “What the?” reaching down, you pushed it back in place, but your wet walls had it slipping out again. “Y-You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You repeated the same process, pushing the toy inside, but it continued slipping out, turning your very steamy solo session into a much more frustrating scenario. It was hard to get into the moment when you were constantly having to push your favorite toy back inside of you. You finally reached down, holding it firmly in place with one hand. So you could handle the situation. Before you could lose yourself in the pleasure, you glanced back up to admire your boyfriend, only to meet his dark gaze, watching you with a lazy grin.

“S-Sugu!”

“Oh~ don't stop, please~ I love watching you get off.” he hummed with a smirk, snuggling closer into his pillow. “Could wait for the morning~ had to get out your toy?”

“Y-Yes—”

He glanced down, “Need a hand?” You can only nod as he reaches down, replacing your hand with his own. “Fuuuck~ baby, you're so fuckin’ wet.” he pushes the toy deeper inside, holding it snuggling in place.

“I-I was I-imagining you, f-fingering—nngh—” Your mouth falls agape as you watch Suguru as the vibrator flexes against your clit and g-spot perfectly. Your hips buck, and your leg trembles as you cry out softly.

“Yeah~ you always get needy for my fingers.” he gently rocks the toy black and forth, making a whimper crawl up your throat. “Does that feel like me~? Rocking my fingers against that spot?”

“Ooooh fuck S-Suguru, Sugu~”

Your boyfriend’s thumb presses the button, increasing the speed to the highest setting. “Oooh baby~ you sound so pretty, moaning my name like that.” He smirked as you grip his bicep, digging your fingers into the muscle. “You’re gonna cum~ I can tell.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Sugu, please, please, I need it!”

As much as he would like to edge you, keep this going, he was still tired. So he rocks the toy back and forth, faster and harder, drawing out the loudest moans from you. It felt so good. It felt like he was touching you while guiding a toy he had purchased for you. Your nails nearly broke the skin as you clinched your hand around his bicep, the coil in your abdomen tightening harder and harder until it finally snapped.

“I'm cumming!” screamed out legs, trembling and shaking as you gushed all over the toy. “C-Cummin’ cumming!” Subaru couldn’t help but chuckle as you arrived against the mattress; you were so sensitive, so easy to please, because he knew you like the back of his hand.

As the rippling contractions of pleasure ceased, your grip on his arm loosened before gently rubbing away the crescent moon shapes you left behind. “Feel better?” Suguru asked as he gently removed the toy from inside you.

“Yeah, it's your fault—ahh—” your words cut off as you watched your boyfriend slide his tongue slowly up the toy collecting your cum off of it. “W-What are you?!”

“A midnight snack should be enough to tie me over until I fully devour you in the morning.”

Your boyfriend nonchalantly placed the toy on his side of the nightstand before hugging his pillow and shutting his eyes as if he hadn’t just done something so sinfully hot! If it weren’t for the mere intensity of your orgasm, pulling you into dreamland, you would’ve taken him right then and there and told him to relax while you did all the work. Suguru was right; you would have to wait for a proper meal in the morning, and you would beat him to it.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ryomen Sukuna, you’re hot, tattooed, and pierced boyfriend, was snoring next to you in bed. His right arm was in a black brace courtesy of the sofa. You had begged him to wait until you got off a call to help him move it, but he insisted that he would be fine alone. And he was until the damn thing nearly crushed his little brother Yuuji when your back was turned.

It was a hairline fracture that would quickly heal in six to eight weeks. Plus, with the hairline fracture, Sukuna could still do simple things like piercings and scheduling appointments at Geto’s tattoo shop. Your boyfriend had been lucky that he had a lot of muscles to take the blunt of the hit from the massive sofa. Your boyfriend wasn’t fortunate enough to avoid your wrath when he said he could care for himself and his brothers alone.

Hearing him say that caused you to blow a fuse. It was bad enough that he had tried to move a sofa alone! Then he dares to tell you he doesn’t need help around the house. Sukuna told you he would be fine nursing a hairline fracture while working and caring for his brothers, which caused you to tell him to shut up and stop being an asshole. That’s how you found yourself with your bags packed in the corner of his room as your ass was planted firmly in his bed while he slept off his pain meds.

He could fight you all he wanted, but you wanted to be there for him.

With a heavy side, you brush back some of your hair as you glance at the clock on the wall. The adrenaline had been pumping through your veins, keeping you wired most of the evening. You were wired after taking Sukuns to the hospital, picking up his brothers, and packing a bag to bring. Seeing that it was now one in the morning, you had a couple of choices to help with your insomnia. You could pull an all-nighter and take a nap on the day, or you could relieve the tension with an orgasm and fall asleep that way.

Having to choose between sleep, deprivation, and pleasure wasn’t a hard decision. Without any other thoughts, you reached into Sukuna’s nightstand, pulling out the vibrator he kept there for you. With that bad boy, he would be able to cum in no time. You had just laid on your back and went to turn it on the highest setting for it to do absolutely nothing. You gave it another click, finding your favorite toy dead.

“No,” you whine, leaning against the pillows. “Fuck no.” as much as you hated it, you would have to go back to the ages and get off with your hand if that was even possible.

With a soft side, you pull to the side before your swollen clit with ease. You gently began rubbing it with your forefinger and slowly teasing circles. Your toes curled as you pressed down on the bundle of nerves with a whimper. It felt good, but you weren’t sure if this would be enough for you. Your boyfriend had not only been your first for almost everything, but he has successfully ruined you for anyone else

And the smug bastard knew that, too

Rubbing your clit faster, you spread your shaking legs with a shaky sigh. Touching yourself, of course, felt good. It always did, but it wasn’t enough, whether it was the lack of callouses or how your fingers were much smaller than your boyfriend's. Or it could just be the fact that your hand wasn’t his. Those thoughts only made it harder for you to focus on the pleasure,

“Kuna,” you whispered, glancing at the ceiling. “Yes~” You were trying to mimic his fingers over your swollen bud, picturing his mouth on your tits, sucking at your nipples. “Fuck.” imaging that only increased the pleasure, making you rub yourself as fast as your fingers would allow. The pleasure only seemed to intensify, urging your hands to grab the sheets instead of continuing to get you off. “Fuuck.” They were about to slow down when Sukuna swatted your hand away and replaced it with his left one. “Haaah!”

Looking up, you found your groggy boyfriend sitting on his knees, the right hand pressed close to his chest while the other rubbed furiously at your clit. “Gotta move your fingers faster than that kitten.” his voice was deep and groggy from the sleep and the medication he was on. “You’re never gonna cum like that.” Your hands dug into the sheets and snapped your fingers faster and harder. I guess that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

“What? You were begging me to do so. This is what you wanted, right?” Sukuna moves his hand as fast as he can as you bite down on your bottom lip when the pleasure becomes almost too much.“Then do it, cum all over my fingers like the good kitten that you are.”

“I-Im gonna—!”

“Yeah? Gonna finally cum now that your boyfriend’s helping you out?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yeah, your fingers aren’t as rough as mine, are they?”

“No!”

Sukuna presses down on your clit harder, rubbing circles around it. “Awe, so honest~ come on, baby cum, you deserve it for telling me the truth and helping me out today. Consider this one of the many ways I plan on repaying you,” you scream, eyes going wide as your orgasm hits you with the promise of more pleasure to come.

Your body rides and arches off the mattress as you cum all over your boyfriend’s hand. You grip the sheets, eyes clamping shut as your tights clamp around her hand. Sukuna slows his fingers down, grinning as he watches your face go from scrunched up with pleasure to a more relaxed expression. His quick circles turn into lazy strokes until, finally, your legs shakily release the vice grip on his hand.

“Mmm.” he licks his fingers clean as you fix your shorts. “You taste so sweet.”

“Mhmm,” you respond almost lazily as he pulls you into his chest. Drowsiness creeps up on you, making your eyelids heavy, and Sukuna sighs heavily. “Night, Kuna; let me know if you need anything.”

Sukuna hums in response, watching as you slowly drift off to sleep on his chest. Would asking you to move in be too much to ask? Because you were everything he needed.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[ccrisntok]

Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)

(Spoilers lol)

what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)

A basic summary of their relationship:

Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)

Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.

i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).

anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.

also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!

This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.

This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.

She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.

In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.

Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.

Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.

Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.

Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.

(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)

(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.

(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)

Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.

He doesn't take this conversation very well.

Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.

In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.

She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.

Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.

Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.

Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.

yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!

After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.

He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.

Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...

Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)

Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.

The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.

So they get to work!

Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.

Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.

He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...

Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.

A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)

The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.

After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.

Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.

Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.

Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.

After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.

At all.

Ace's heart wasn't beating.

He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.

(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)

(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)

So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee

This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)

After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.

Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.

Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.

As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.

Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?

Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.

In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).

I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!

holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader

Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)

Word Count: 2,411

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.

Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.

There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.

Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.

When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.

The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.

----

Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.

A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.

“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”

There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.

“Say that again.”

Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.

“How may I be of use?”

The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.

“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”

His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.

“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”

Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.

“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.

The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.

Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.

“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”

“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.

Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”

Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.

It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.

“Y/n?”

“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.

Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.

“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”

“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”

“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”

“I know.” she responded almost immediately.

“No, y-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”

Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”

“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.

“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide.

“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”

“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”

“I loved you. I still do.”

Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.

“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.

Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.

“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”

A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.

“Al, I have to go.”

“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”

As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.

“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”

A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.

“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”

He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”

“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”

Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.

“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”

“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.

“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.

Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.

“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”

As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.

“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.

Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.

“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.

“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”

——

Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

[weebsinstash]

something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

[spacedace]

Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.

This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha

---

Well.

Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.

Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.

Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.

She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.

She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.

Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.

It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.

So.

Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.

That was a thing.

A weird thing with some big implications.

D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.

But it was still something.

She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.

“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”

Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.

“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.

It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.

Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.

Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?

He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.

—

Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.

Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.

She was scared now.

Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.

Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.

“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.

“Silence.”

Jon felt cold.

Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.

“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”

Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.

Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”

Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.

“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.

It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.

Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.

“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”

Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.

Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.

Elle was crying now.

He felt sick.

“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”

The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.

Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.

Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.

It was all wrong.

It was all perfectly fine.

The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”

Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.

Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.

Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.

Everything was perfectly normal.

D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.

He couldn’t remember why he was there.

Everything was fine.

[softpascalito]

Christmas Baking for Three - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You're tired, pregnant, angry and you mess up the cookies meant for Joel. He gets a full blast of your hormones - and still manages to surprise you.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader WC: 1800 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Baking, Christmas Cookies, Christmas, Pregnancy, Female Reader, No use of y/n, Fights, Mention of normal pregnancy struggles, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Nicknames, Kissing, Crying, Joel Miller in an apron Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: another lil calendar piece that is also dedicated to steph's winter writing challenge (@toomanystoriessolittletime) with the trope baking <3 i also wanted to mention a very short but very lovely pregnancy piece by SwiggitySwagNightmareStag with peña that i found really inspiring in regards to p characters and how they handle pregnancy. you can read it here! <3

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You swore under your breath as you opened the oven door, only to be met with a gush of heat and the smell of burnt dough. The cookies that you had so carefully prepared, cut out in the shapes of christmas trees and hearts, had taken on a dark brown color, the furthest row from you already smoking slightly.

“Fuck-” With a quick move, you maneuvered the try of burnt cookies onto the sink to let them cool off. Looking at them in broad daylight, it was clear that they were barely edible and in no way as enjoyable as they should be.

You ignored the surge of anger inside of yourself, anger at the oven for being so damn unreliable, at the timer that you’d meant to replace ages ago, at yourself. You’d been too distracted with cleaning up, then being forced to take a quick trip to the bathroom upstairs and getting sidetracked with laundry.

A groan left you at the realization. The laundry was still soaking in the bathtub, abandoned the second you’d caught a glimpse of the clock and realized how long the cookies had been baking for.

Angry tears shot into your eyes. It felt like a never-ending battle between you and your ever-growing list of things to do, to prepare, to keep track of. And this had been the one thing you’d wanted to do for him, to thank him for taking over so many of said things now that you were in your third trimester. Maybe you could start over, hide the failed cookies, to spare your another embarrassment in front of-

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door of the small mudroom bordering the kitchen opened with a creak. Merely a second later and clearly alarmed by the smell, he was hurrying into the room, eyes raking through the kitchen until they landed on you. His shoulders slumped slightly as he took in your form, checking you from top to bottom.

“Are you okay?” Joel's voice was soft, despite him being a little out of breath. You could see the basket filled with firewood behind him. Another task that used to be yours before your stomach had grown too big.

He watched your reaction, carefully making his way around the counter, glancing at the burnt cookies in passing. It was enough to make the tears finally spill from your eyes, rolling down your face and landing on the shirt that was already stained with flour. And the anger inside of you? It had finally found an outlet.

The poor man didn't even have time to brace himself before you started yelling.

“You arent supposed to be home, what the fuck are you doing here?!” He looked taken aback, but only for a moment. Then his face seemed to relax. You didn't want him to relax. You wanted him to be as angry as you were and in as much pain and misery. You knew it was a horrible, horrible thought, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him to have to run to the toilet upwards of twenty times a day, to have him woken up by a human kicking inside of him at the most ungodly hours.

“You said you'd be at work until five! You're not-” Another sob escaped you as the knot in your chest seemed to grow exponentially, “You're not supposed to be here yet and-”

You couldn't find a single trace of anger on his face. Not in the crease between his brows, not in the corners of his mouth, not even in his eyes. All you could find was concern.

“Hey-” Joel whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks. They were cold but you leaned into the touch regardless, “What's going on, darlin? Talk to me, please.”

You hiccuped slightly as you tried to speak, the words fighting hard to not get outside. As far as your body was concerned, there was no point in telling him, in making him a bigger part of your currently miserable experience than he already had to be.

“Burned- I burned the cookies-” You mumbled, “I wanted- wanted to surprise you.”

Your arms finally wrapped around him, your body fitting snug against his, even with your baby bump between you. Joel pulled you closer, one hand supporting your back while the other gently stroked your hair, “Shhh, it's okay. You're okay.”

He held you like that for a while, occasionally whispering words of gentle encouragement into your ear until the sobs had stopped. Then, he nudged you towards the living room, guiding you to sit down on one of the armchairs next to the window. He stayed by your side, kneeling down in front of you as he kept his hands on your legs, gently rubbing your thigh.

“There we are,” Joel mumbled softly, producing a handkerchief from nearby and wiping the last of your tears from your cheeks. He gave you a few more moments of silence before he spoke.

“Wanna talk about it?” You opened your mouth to decline, to push him away and deal with it yourself. It's what you would have done a few months ago. But, as he kept reminding you, you were a team now. No, not just a team. Parents. Soon-to-be-parents. He-was-once-before-but-you-were-new-to-all-this-parents.

“It's just been a lot,” you mumbled, watching as Joel nodded along, soft brown eyes radiating understanding. “And I'm already putting so much work on you on top of your normal duties so I thought- I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel hummed quietly, his thumb pressing into your thigh a little, “You do nice things for me all the time, darlin’.”

“I don't. Not with-” You helplessly gestured to your stomach. You could practically see Joel's expression getting a little more serious at that, “Baby, I promise you do. You're here when I come home, right? You fall asleep next to me. You kiss me when you wake up in the morning. Don't need more than that, baby.”

Almost instantly, the tears were back. A thick one rolled down your cheek and Joel reached up just in time to catch it.

“I appreciate you wanting to bake for me, godda-” He stopped himself from cursing, a habit he’d picked up in the last few weeks, with the due date coming ever closer and him insisting that you should at least try to bring up a civilized child. You had a feeling it had less to do with your child and more with the amount of curse words Ellie dropped on a daily basis, but if it made Joel happy, you wouldn't argue against it.

He sighed, “I really do appreciate it. And you know I think your cookin’ is nothing short of magic,” he mumbled quietly. Then he shook his head, his hand wandering to gently rest on your round stomach, “But it's not why I'm with you.”

“Besides, you're already doin’ a whole lot of baking in here,” he added with a small smile, gently patting your stomach and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

“I wouldn't exactly call it baking.”

Joel raised a brow, “No, ‘m pretty sure it is. I made a real nice dough, put it right in here, turned up the heat and now I just gotta wait for it to be done.”

“You're such an idiot, Miller,” you offered weakly as you leaned down towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He smirked against your lips, “If being an idiot gets you to stop crying, I'll do it more often.”

The kiss barely had time to get more heated before you gently pushed back against Joel's chest, “Gotta finish the laundry upstairs.” A small frown built on his face, “We agreed I'd do that. Ain't good for your back, baby.”

“I told you, I've been-” He actually cut you off this time, squeezing your thigh a little to make you fall silent, “Remember what I said? When you told me you were pregnant?”

You raised a brow, “Before or after you almost fainted?” Joel sent you a playful glare at that, causing you to sigh, “You said we were in this together. That you- that you'd be here for it all.”

“That's right,” he mused softly, his thumb still absent-mindedly caressing your thigh. 

“Now, let me go take care of the laundry and you take a nap, yeah? You look-” He paused for a moment, clearly trying to find a nice way to say it, “You look real tired, darlin’.”

You drifted off to the sound of clothes being washed in the bathtub in the next room and to Joel's soft humming of a lullaby he’d been practicing. If this works just half as good on our baby, you thought right before falling asleep, we’re not going to half a single sleepless night.

When you wake up, the rays of afternoon sun are filtering through the windows, giving the house the warm glow you like it so much for. Stumbling into the kitchen, you're met with a sight that you've never seen before.

Joel Miller, an apron tied around his front, kneading away on a piece of dough. Your small laughter alerts him to your presence and you swear you can spot the faintest blush on his cheeks as you practically skip towards him.

“If you wanted an excuse to wear that, you could've just said so,” you tease, leaning against the counter as you watch him. Joel grumbles softly but the small smile on his face isn't lost on you, “ ‘bout time you wake up. Wanna help?”

You frown slightly- and then you realize what he’s doing. Baking bread is something you do often, but this isn't that. The cookie recipe you'd been using earlier is placed next to him, the dough looks exactly the same yours had before you’d burned it.

“Figured we both like cookies. Plus it doubles as a Christmas activity and, well.”

You kiss him. Once, twice, only stopping when he forces you to. He's perfect.

You bake together this time, with you showing him how to get the cut-outs just right, him sneaking a few pieces of the dough into his mouth when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s cozy and relaxing and for the first time in weeks, you seem to forget all about the struggles of being a pregnant woman.

You both sit in front of the oven afterwards, you in Joels lap, your bodies intertwined, both watching eagerly as the cookies slowly turn golden. He kisses your head, his nose nuzzling your hair a few times.

“Next time you’re overwhelmed like that?” He mumbles quietly, “Just let me know, yeah? You know I'm here. For you and the little one”

You nod softly, resting your head against his chest, “I know.”

notes: as always, thank you for reading. i adore each and every one of you. if you enjoyed this, feel free to give me an early christmas present by leaving a comment or reblogging <3

[amomentsescape]

Sorry if the request is too weird for you, sometimes I can't tell if I'm being weird.. or just worrying too much, but could I request Slasher headcanon, if the reader gets pregnant? If you're comfort with that

Slashers React to Reader Getting Pregnant

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

A/N: No worries at all! It's a great request, thank you! :)

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy of course, a mix of angst and fluff (not all Slashers are happy about this)

DARK THEMES: A few of these Slashers will mention not keeping the child (Brahms is especially dark and is a bit Yandere themed).

Freddy Krueger

When you first tell him, he just laughs

There's no way you're being serious right now, right?

But when he sees you're not laughing, his grin turns into a frown

"That kid's not fucking mine"

Becomes angry

Freddy is barely even human at this point, there's no way that he could have had anything to do with your pregnancy

He kicks you out of the dream world and leaves you alone in your room to cry

It takes about a week before you find yourself back in his world, facing a very serious looking Freddy

Instead of him yelling at you like you expected, he just pulls you into a hug

He whispers an apology so low that you can barely hear it

When you pull back, he tells you that he needed time to think it over

But being a father wouldn't be so bad

He could turn the dream world into a kid's wonderland

Plus, he still cares about you

He still doesn't know how this happened, but he's come to just disregard that now

Michael Myers

Michael does not like children, nonetheless, having one of his own

You knew this, so the idea of telling him just scared you in all honesty

You pushed it off as long as you could until you knew you couldn't wait any longer

When you finally sat him down and told him, he was pissed

Told you to get rid of it

If you decide to, then things pretty much go back to normal

But if you say no, Michael will be gone

You'll wake up in the middle of the night some random time and find that you're alone

His things will be gone and there will be no trace of him

He'll leave enough food and drinks for you to survive a couple weeks

But that'll be it

You'll never see him again

Jason Voorhees

When you first told him, he literally just freezes up

You don't know what to do, becoming worried he is just going to walk out

But then he suddenly engulfs you in a hug, rocking back and forth

He may not be able to physically show it, but he is ecstatic!

He never thought he'd find someone who loved him, nonetheless want to start a family with him

So the idea that soon the cabin will have a mini you or him running around makes him so happy

Just know that his protective instincts are going to go into overdrive

Will not let you lift a finger

Will engorge you in literally every treat you can think of

And he will not let you leave the cabin unless he goes with you

He's protecting two precious lives now

He won't be flexible on that

But he makes up for it with his attentiveness

He makes less trips out unless you need something

He turns his attention on building a nice crib and area for your future child to rest and play

The idea of being a father just brings a whole new light to him

Thomas Hewitt

Oh my god

Thomas is floating in heaven right now

You? Carrying his child?

He's quite literally a puddle on the floor

He even begins to cry, inevitably causing your own tears to flow despite doing your best to hold them back

If you thought Thomas already spoiled you too much, expect for it to triple

Will cook for you 24/7

Even when you're not hungry, he still tries to get you to eat something since "you're eating for two now"

Will rub your feet and your back a few times a day, but especially before you go to sleep

And if you have any weird cravings?

He'll get them for you without a single hesitation

Thomas will definitely be the type to kneel down and kiss your belly

He's still just amazed that you could possibly be carrying his child in you

It really triggers his romantic side

Bubba Sawyer

When you tell him, he almost thinks you're kidding

You have to reassure him a few times before he finally believes you

But once he does, he's jumping and sprinting around the house

He tells his whole family immediately, not being able to hold his excitement inside

He picks you up and twirls you around, placing hundreds of sloppy kisses on your face

Will rub your belly and just stare at it fondly

He'll have trouble letting you do anything on your own though

Even needing to go the bathroom involves him picking you up and carrying you there

He becomes so worried about hurting the baby too

There was a short amount of time where he'd only hug you from behind because he thought hugging you normally would squish the child

He's so caring and yet so clueless

But you better believe that he will be such a loving father

You just need to keep an eye out though, or else Bubba will spoil that baby rotten

Brahms Heelshire

At first, he has mixed feelings about the situation

The idea that his own flesh and blood is growing inside of you makes him feel... good in a way?

It's like the ultimate possession in his eyes

He's quite literally a part of you now

But at the same time, the idea of raising a child and having to share your attention pisses him off

You're supposed to take care of him and follow his rules, not somebody else's

Even if that somebody else is his own kid

If you choose to stick it out and have the child, you'll notice things seem fine at first

Brahms may even offer to feed and look after the baby while you rest

The issue arises when a couple weeks into taking care of them, Brahms starts to feel cold

The baby requires so much of your attention- too much

They cry and cry and cry and won't give either of you a break

Brahms eventually snaps

You wake up one day to find the baby gone without so much as a trace

Brahms feigns innocence, but you know

Brahms is now for certain that there can only be him

Norman Bates

You're pregnant?

Oh, he's ecstatic!

He immediately has to tell Mother, of course

He's so attentive with you too after you tell him (not that he wasn't before)

Will keep track of your most common cravings and will stock up on them so you always have them on hand

He's already buying baby clothes at the store too even if you both don't know the gender quite yet

He'll tell little stories to your tummy, always ending them with a soft kiss

You notice that he's even more gentle than normal with you too

The way he hugs you and cuddles you at night is very soft, and he only gives you feather light touches

He's not even aware of it himself

He's always dreamed of raising his own family, but he wasn't sure that dream would ever be a reality for him

But he just knows you'll make a great parent, and he hopes he will too

Billy Loomis

When you first share the news, you have no idea how he'd react

He never really discussed having kids, and you weren't sure this would be something he'd want

When you told him, he just looked at the ground with a cold expression

When you probed him again, he looked at you

Accused you of cheating

After several times of telling him you didn't, he tells you that he can't do this

He wasn't ready, he was pretty sure he didn't even want kids, how could you do this to him?

This all built up until he stormed out, leaving you there hurt and teary eyed

You don't hear from him for a month

You're certain that's the end of that, and you were going to be left to raise this child alone

But he suddenly comes back, a baby blanket in his hand

To your confusion, he begins to apologize and tell you that he panicked

After taking that time away to think over everything, he realized that the last thing he wanted was to be like his father

He didn't want to just abandon his own child

He ends up sticking with you for the birth and after

Although a little rough around the edges, he ends up becoming a good father and even better partner for you

Stu Macher

He kind of immediately panics the moment you tell him the news

Not necessarily in a bad way, he just feels so unprepared

Of course, he's thought of creating a family with you

But that was supposed to be like 10 years from now

This feels too soon, and he's not sure he's quite ready for this change yet

But at the same time, he can't ignore his excitement

He loves children, and knowing that you'll be having his very own son or daughter makes his heart warm in a way he didn't think it could

Will spend the night thinking everything over

And by the next day, there's already a crib, toys, and 20 boxes of diapers setting by the bedroom

You're honestly in awe with how quickly he shifted his thoughts from the previous day

Will sit down with you and reassure you that he's going to stick it out with you

Everything will work out as long as you stick together, right?

Stu does love you too

He had no plans of going anywhere

Eric Draven

You almost begin to worry when you told Eric

He so desperately wanted to start a family with you

You knew this

But you also knew that he didn't want to do that until you were out of this dangerous city and in an area he was certain would be safe

So when you told him the news, you weren't sure what reaction you'd be met with

It was only when a large smile broke out across his face that you felt yourself relax

He lifts you off the ground and hugs you close to him, praising you and telling you just how happy he is

He truly can't believe that he's going to be raising his own child with the love of his life

He didn't even know this was a possibility for him anymore

He tries to lessen the amount of time he spends out at night

He hated leaving you home alone before, but now he has two lives counting on him to keep them safe

He isn't going to risk that

But on the nights that he does lose track of time, he always comes home with a takeout bag in hand, somehow knowing exactly what you want

He even makes a promise to get you both out of this city as soon as possible

He should have done it sooner, but now he has every single reason to do it

[shaisuki]

CAN'T LOOK TO WHAT'S MINE

MIKAGE REO X CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── yandere themes, jealousy, reader and reo have kids, impregnation, forced pregnancy

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ jealousy doesn't suit reo and when his ex-teammates had reunited with him in one fateful coincidence, he didn't like how they are looking at you.

reo is capable of his hiding his emotions for the people he treats as his inferiors. no matter what standing you have in life, he will hide it with a smile in his face and that makes him likeable for the people that surrounds him.

today is different he can't hide the jealousy and anger he is feeling. staring with disdain to his former teammates who may not or have staring at his wife.

it's a pure coincidence of course. it's been years since he left the world of football for his company and you with his children. if things were different reo would treat this as a reunion with his former comrades but it's not. they interrupted his precious family time.

"reo! long time no see. i thought i couldn't see you again with you being a real big shot now." reo couldn't focus with the man in front of him but rather how his sight darts to him before briefly glancing at you and that seems to ignite a gnawing feeling to him.

"yeah. small world." he briefly says before grabbing your hand with his. tightly gripping with his anger and possessiveness evidence in the grip that it almost breaks your hand.

how dare these idiots look at you. he can feel you slipping from his grasp the moment you reciprocated their smiles and you never did that to him. he guesses it was the lack of contact from other people in your life and that's the reason he will never be going to another trip again with you with the risk of meeting another people like his former teammates.

the irritation building up and no matter how much he pretends he couldn't contain it. the breaking point when one of them asked if you were his infamous wife and with a nod. they erupted in what a good cheers, saying what a lucky guy reo must have been with being married to someone like until one of them reached out for their hand for you to shake but reo takes it. saying how nice to meet with them again and he have to go. somewhere along the lines of father and husband duties and they understand that.

reo tugging you to went back to the summer house he bought for you. there's no words spoken and his anger radiating all over the place. your kids carried by their nannies, knowing what it means when reo is already dragging you to the confines of your home.

"they're staring at what's mine." he mutters before pushing you to the bed and being the sane person you are.

"for fuck's sake, reo. can't i get another normal human interaction without you bitching why they were looking at me. they would look cause i'm with you!" you quipped . fed up with how possessive and protective he can get with you.

"you belong to me and they should know that!" he reasoned.

you let out an exasperated gasp. shaking your head for how he was thinking and dealing with his emotions.

"you parade me like a trophy with your business associates, dealt with your stupid events and yet, i can't interact with others. you're fucking unbelievable." distancing yourself from him.

"i can ignore that filthy words leaving your mouth but don't ever, ever question my claim to you." grasping your jaw to force you to look up to see his purple eyes swirls in complete madness.

he can see the tears pooling up at your eyes. can't you understand? he's so in love with you with madness in the end of it and who can blame when he wants you all for himself. then a sick idea coming up to his deranged mind. he could let the world know and to anyone whose to blind to see that you belonged to him.

he could just get you pregnant again.

his children would be delighted for a another sibling and being the doting father he is. he'll grant it—whether you like it or not. it's not like you have a choice either.

licking his lips with a delightful grin etched into his face. placing a kiss to your forehead and then forcefully shoving his tongue deep inside you. his hands already untying the laces and undoing the straps of your sundress.

he could see you round and swollen with his child again. you will be always be his beautiful baby mama and you can always give him one again. there's so much joy filling in his heart as he thinks of it.

after all, he gets what he wants not even considering your feelings and it would be known that you truly belongs to him.

[mochinomnoms]

I just thought of how chaotic bodyswapping with either of the leeches would be. Especially in PTM. We have Riddle swapping with Floyd which makes Riddles dorm confused and slighty scared with such a chaotic Riddle then a Floyd trying to calm him down and trying to still manage the dorm as best as he can. Then we have … Jade. I feel like he would seem pretty normal for the most part maybe mimicing Yuu as best as he can or just being very formal and polite. Nothing for Yuu to worry about until Jade figures that thus is a perfect oppurtunity to explore the human body and what better body then his mate (i can imagine this is before they get together), i can see jade dressing up in various outfits and admiring himself in the mirror and maybe even taking a few photos or two, you know for the memories like the freak he is. Not sure if he would go farther than that but I can see Yuu worrying about the possibilities and no one believeing they are Yuu until they can prove it to ADeuce and Grim (who might be more inclined to believe it if they saw Riddle and Floyd before hand). And maybe both Jade and Floyd take this opportunity to make sure they have no rivals, flat out rejecting anyone who they may know has a crush on their mate.

sorry for this long blurb just wanted to share

-🧀

Aaaah, I get iffy about bodyswaps sometimes since they can get borderline uncomfy, but I am always down for funny stories. Especially in PTM, it's so full of potential for hijinks!

I am down for bodyswaps if it happens when everyone is aware, if that makes sense? For example, Riddle, Jade, and Yuu are all in their potions class working on their in class assignment. But as we know, Floyd likes to ditch class sometimes to go hang with Jade in his classes. It's a bonus that his Goldfishie is also there, makes for a fun time!

Maybe a bit too much fun...he's knocked over the potion the group next to them had been making. It splashed over him and Riddle, who was now steadily raising his voice, and spilled onto the floor, where you managed to slip and drag Jade with you as you grabbed on his lab coat for stability.

The two of you were now covered in the potion, you're mumbling about not having enough detergent for another load so soon, and Jade is clicking his tongue as he got up. He helped you up, gloves wet, shoes grimy, and you two made your way over to the eyewash and shower station in the corner.

Riddle follows, dragging an annoyed Floyd to the station as well so wash up, the latter complaining about not wanting to get wet. Never mind that he is already wet from the potion. It's when you and Jade are stripping your outer layers to wash up, that Floyd reaches to poke at Riddle's cheek.

A small shock of lighting bounced between them, a red one crackling over Floyd and a light teal one over Riddle. Floyd jerks away, tripping over himself and falling on his back. Riddle froze, hands out and eyes darting as he stared between Floyd and his own hands. Like he was processing something...

You're watching him, a bit scared at Riddle's sudden stillness, as Jade kneels down to Floyd murmuring to his twin as Floyd looks around disoriented.

It's when you finally ask Riddle, leaning down to try and make eye contact with him, that Riddle looks at you. He's wide-eyed, and looks a bit feral, as he shouts, “WHAT THE FUCK” at the top of his lungs (eerily similar to a certain twin) that you stumble back in surprise.

You trip, feeling Jade's arms catch you, and only have a moment to process Jade's bare hands against your skin, when an electric feeling, and gray and dark teal lighting dance across your body.

You feel your head split open, and your body feels off, like your gravity of center moved. A small body in your arms groans, shifting in your grasp, as you blink your eyes open. You don't register the person in front of you at first, though they look familiar.

Imagine your shock when their head turns to look at you and a familiar pair of eyes, just like yours, and blinks.

“...Floyd? Wait, no.” your voice sounds foreign to your ears, like a stranger speaking a different language. “That's—why is everything so tall?”

“Is this what it's like to be short? Oh whaaaat?” You snapped your head up to look at Riddle, or the person who looks like him anyways, as he twirled around, giggling. The tone of his voice was off, a lot like Floyd, as he grinned over at your little pile up, and skipped over to where Floyd was still on the ground, looking at Riddle with a horrified expression.

“Riddle leaned down, a teasing smile on is lips, as he cooed, That you in there Goldfishie?”

“...FLOYD GET OUT OF MY BODY!”

Floyd never really yelled, so hearing him was a shock to everyone scrambling around in the lab as they tried to figure out what was going on. Crewel, poor dear Divus Crewel, is so fucking tired.

Thankfully, he can whip up the remedy potion rather easily. Unfortunately, he has a very busy day with classes, and it will have to wait until later in the day. He sends a mass text to the faculty informing them of the accident, and advises that you all continue your day as normal.

“And please, for the love of all that is good in this world, let everyone else know. There's no reason to hide it, the embarrassment cannot possibly be enough that you need to pretend to be each other. Just, let your dorms know and continue as normal in each other's bodies.”

Despite this, hi jinks and pranks still ensue. Mostly initiated by Jade and Floyd, and mostly at yours and Riddle's expense. If you two notice that some of your peers, ones that were particularly soft on you and that others claimed had a crush, suddenly are avoiding you after the switch, the twins just tell you that they had to tell them off.

If the twins ask why one of their transformation potions are gone, you and Riddle better not tell them that you got curious about how being a merman felt like and didn't know how to transform back without using the potion. Unless you want to get teased about it, of course.

They'll find out regardless, and each twin with tease their respective human, asking them why they were so interested in the first place.

“Awww, is my lil Goldfishie interested in being under the sea? Don't worry, I'll make sure you're all prepped before taking ya back home with me!”

“If you wanted to know what being a mer is like, you could have asked me~ I'd be happy to make you a potion and take you to the depths with me. I have several lovely, private areas that I think you'd greatly enjoy.”

Maybe this is what you all needed to break the ice? Or maybe it just makes it thicker, I'll leave it up to you!

[lgbtimelords]

a fanfic i'll never write, part 3:

couldn't have loved me better

Kara sees the woman lying, bloody and dirty, in the tower’s medical and sighs.

Not another one, she thinks. One was one too many.

Bizarro. Overgirl. Red daughter.

Once is a mistake. Twice is a pattern. Three times is a habit. Four times is… fucking ridiculous.

She doesn’t have time for this. She really doesn’t.

She’s still too tired from her trip to the Phantom Zone. She needs to write that non-existent article for Andrea. She wants to sleep, a day- maybe two. She promised Alex a sister’s night with Kelly and Nia a lunch together. She wants to eat way too many boxes of potstickers until her stomach hurts and wants to watch a movie. She needs to call Eliza, maybe fly over to Midvale, too. She needs to answer all the pilling up texts from James, Lucy and Cat. But all she wants to do is curl up in her bed and cuddle with Lena- not that she’d ever voice that wish.

She wants to go back to that time before the reveal when touching was simple and normal. A hand on Lena’s back. A hug to say hello. A hug to say goodbye. Lena’s hand on the crook of her elbow as they walked together. Fingers through dark hair when it got messy. Fingers pulling up her glasses when they fell to the tip of her nose. Touch was… a thing. Their thing.

Now, other than the emotional and aching hug after Kara’s return, they haven’t touched. And Kara desperately wants to.

Half of it she blames it on her own need to know Lena is actually alive, actually here. And that none of the nightmares she went through in the Phantom Zone were real. She wants to make sure Lena’s heart is actually beating behind her ribs, make sure her head isn’t playing tricks on her and the heartbeat she hears isn't just an illusion. She wants to put a strand of hair behind her ear and make sure it’s as soft as always.

But Lena is careful and unsure around her— and it hurts her a little bit. Although she gets it, she’s unsure too. She’s not sure where they stand. And Kara’s restless nights, she’s too drained, physically and emotionally, to have such an important conversation with Lena right now. And by the heavy dark circles under Lena’s eyes and the way she keeps rubbing the back of her stiff neck, Kara guesses she’s as tired as her.

But now, after being rudely woken up at five am, she watches as Lena takes the woman’s arm- the woman that looks exactly like her- and softly wraps a bandage around it. It’s the softness that Lena does it with that makes Kara stop.

Her fingers softly trace the place where there’s a deep cup in the woman’s arm with a white-ish cream before she delicately wraps it. She does it with the one on her arm, then moves into her wrist- before she’s carefully cleaning a nasty cup above the woman’s brow, Lena’s face too close to her face. It almost looks like Lena is leaning in to kiss her and Kara wants to scream.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she says bluntly, making Lena jump, a hand on her chest as she moves away from the woman, “she should be okay after a while under the sunlamps.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she says, extending a tablet to Kara, “her blood work and every other test we’ve done so far came back human.”

“What?”

“I’m waiting on Alex to come by with the DNA test results but…” Lena trails off, unsure of her own next words.

Kara huffs- half laugh, half disbelief. She throws herself in the chair next to Lena’s computer. Or more like the tower’s computer that Lena is always using and because of that had taken the name of “Lena’s chair”. Lena’s computer. Lena’s side of the tower. Kara likes to hear that.

“That’s a new one,” she says, looking curiously at the woman, “I was half expecting a fight as soon as she woke up.”

“Well, I wouldn’t lose hope just yet,” Lena says, smirk on her face, “this still seems to be one version of you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she smirks at Kara, “I just think you can be a little hot headed darling, that’s all.”

“Me? Hotheaded,” she gasps, “okay now you’re lying.”

“Oh, so it’s a lie that you used to say punching first, questions later?”

Kara groans again and throws her head back, making herself spin a little in the chair, “I hate that you and Alex talk a lot now. It’s unfair.”

Lena is smiling, that soft and kind smile Kara loves so much- and just when she moves her mouth to answer her, the woman on the bed is groaning loudly. Lena turns around, her face covered in worry, as she gently puts her hands on her shoulders- stopping the woman from moving around.

“Where’s everyone?” Kara whispers, as she hands Lena the syringe she wordlessly asked for.

“Alex should be here any minute, I sent Brainy home because he looked exhausted.”

Lena effortlessly inserts the syringe into the IV and the blonde goes still in the bed again. Now that she’s closer to her, Kara can see that while she does look like her, her face is somehow... different.

There’s some freckles in her face Kara knows she doesn’t have. Her hair is maybe one or two shades darker and there’s a lot of tan lines, one on her face clearly marking her nose, and on her body, she can see the lines of a bathsuit on her shoulders and one tiny scar of a vaccine on the side of her arm.

Her body is not as solid as Kara’s either, she notices when she helps Lena turn the woman to her side so she can tend to the wounds on her back. There’s muscles on her arms and back but they’re not as defined as hers, neither are her abs- they’re more like a soft line on her belly instead of the six pack she possesses.

It’s weird. It looks like her, except that when you look at her, she doesn’t.

“Do you want to have dinner?” Lena asks, as she sits down in one of the sofas in front of Kara, after checking and rechecking the vitals of the woman lying in bed.

“It’s five thirty am, Lena." She’d laugh, if she wasn’t so worried about the fact that the brunette has been neglecting her health again.

“Oh,” she sounds surprised, even as she checks the clock on the wall to confirm that, yes, it is five in the morning. She looks at Kara confused, “What are you doing here then?”

“Alex called. Said she needed to go out and you needed help.”

The answer is just Lena pressing her lips together, “I told her not to call you. You need to rest.”

“Lena-”

“-Kara,” she interrupts, “you’re exhausted. I know you are.”

“It’s okay,” she says, and wishes she could reach out and touch her hand. Be brave enough to do something as simple as to touch someone’s hand. “I want to be here.” With you.

Lena is hesitant but nods anyway.

“Really early breakfast then?”

Kara smiles, “Well, I won’t say no to that.”

They walk side by side, Kara’s pinky touching Lena’s- and she’s gathering all the streghtn inside herself to grab Lena’s hand when a loud gasp makes them turn around.

The woman is sitting up on the bed, the bandages on her arms turning red as she moves her hands up to her throat. She’s coughing and coughing and her back is so arched as she bring her head to her raised up knees that Kara wonders if it’s painful.

“Don’t move too much,” Lena says, walking closer to her and grabbing a water bottle on one of the tables.

It's like the words click a switch on the woman's mind and as quickly as her stiff muscles allow her, she wraps her arms around Lena as soon as she sees her. The woman's hands make a fist on Lena's clothes and her face hides in the crook of Lena's neck.

“My love,” she chokes out like a prayer.

[dominantslasherking]

Predator/Yautja with Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Backstory: Male Yautja wants to breed with his human mate.

Your friends were being hunted, alongside you, Your body was already aching for running and hiding out for hours on end, watching your friends die around you, wasn't something anyone would enjoy.

"Fuck..." A murmur uttered from your throat as you leaned against a tree, it was hard to see since it was pitch black outside, and you had no idea where you were since you and your friends decided to go on a hiking plus camping trip in the middle of a forest.

Your [Eye color] eyes threatened to shut, begging for rest, a deep breath escaped your mouth, as you decided to let your body rest, not expecting to fall asleep just as quick.

<<>>><<>>

Something was different, the weather wasn't as cold as it was, in fact, it was rather a normal temperature, and your back wasn't hurting, as it normally would sleeping against a hard tree. Slowly you opened your eyes, one of your eyes slightly drooping shut since it was indeed swollen from---from that fucking creatures blade, which had slashed you, luckily you had closed your eyes in time, so there was no serious damage to your eyeball itself, the same couldn't be said for your eyelid.

A loud clicking sound made you regain focus, and finally, see where you were..it looked like---some type of ship Obviously not human with all the strange details and highly advanced areas in it. You seemed to be in some type of room, on top of a bed, a comfortable large one might you add.

You felt something strange press into your side, a warmth, as if something--no someone was cuddling against you. A choke had caught itself in your throat, seeing one of those things that were hunting you and had killed most of your friends.

What was more considering than the literal alien cuddled up against you, was the hardness also pressed against you....The alien was--Horny.

For some odd reason your body had reacted to the big alien horniess, your body had begun to get all hot causing you to also get a boner. At that strange moment you wanted to curse at yourself, and your cock brushed against the fabric of your joggers.

Trying to get out of the grasp of the alien ended up as a bad idea, as it was now holding your arm down while staring at you, its mask was off, showing its strange-looking face, but you were disgusted.

It suddenly made strange clicking sounds into its wristband, causing a bold voice to speak up from the wrists device, "Ooman," Was the clearest word you could makeup, the rest were rather jumbled up and confusing.

Your body completely froze, once the alien had a firm grip on your clothes cock, which was painfully hard. Your teeth grinted holding in the groan from the unexpected gesture. You slightly moved, causing your knee to brush up against the creature's own hard cock.

"Shit--Sorry--Crap I did not mean to--!!!!" The creature wasted no time in ripping off the annoying joggers. The Yautja made clicking sounds out of approval at your large size(Thats what you hoped those clicking sounds were anyway...)

At this point, you really didn't care that this alien had killed your friends, you were horny, it was horny. However there was one thing you wouldn't slide, you were NOT going to let the alien fuck you, you wanted to fuck the alien instead...First it killed your friends, you'll be damned if it tried to top.

<<>><>>>

The Yautja's puckering hole was glistening with a strange liquid, which was easily used on lube once you popped your cock deep inside, with struggle since it was a very tight area. The clicking sounds it made were rapid as it let out a purr of thunder, once you had fully placed yourself inside.

Your hands had begun to roam the Aliens firm body until you had a nice grip on his hips, the Aliens cock was about the same as you, (Larger than average)

The Alien had a nice meaty ass, which was also being used as a gripper. It's not like you hadn't had sex before, but damn, the Alien was so fucking tight and every time you had pulled out, just to thrust back in, it felt as if the alien's hole was sucking you in completely, begging you to never leave the wet Craven area.

Your thrusts were wild like a beast, not able to resist the temptation of the pleasure coursing through your veins. Purring had erupted from the Aliens throat, enjoying the strange pleasures of having a cock in him, which he had never had before.

The Yautja a great hunter, had decided he was obviously going to keep his human mate, after all, a mate was very scarce, and the intense pleasure was just a bonus.

[lamentofabramo]

Hi I was wondering if you could write a short fic of Jack Nyras (eyeless jack) stalking the reader, from his perspective trying to find a good moment to grab them inconspicuously

this is shit asf icl i apologise <3 MINORS DNI

EYELESS JACK

Why the fuck were you so damn hard to catch alone?

"Can't be normal, have they caught on..?" Jack mumbles to himself, throwing down his barely-smoked cigarette. He couldn't be bothered finishing the rest even if he could, the black tar ruined his joy of smoking as soon as it started becoming evident that leaning forward would cause his eyes to drip all over anything and everything.

He was worried now, anyway. You seemed like an easy target at the start, always alone, always being some sort of loser hiding in the shadows.

"I'm one to talk." He scoffed to himself, feeling the irony in his words. He was a monster now, not stupid. That could be seen just as well in his murders, so well done people imagined some crazed doctor had snapped and gone on a spree. He didn't particularly mean to kill those people, just like how he didn't want to kill you. But when push comes to shove he knows what he'd want in a situation where it became 'you' or him. He was strong anyway, he shouldn't be so hesitant about killing you where you stand. He'd used almost every excuse in the book: Last week when you were at the bar, He'd come up with the excuse that you wouldn't taste too good with Alcohol running through your veins, no matter how easy it would be just to take you away and blame it on the indecent muck around these parts.

Last month when you were all alone in that park you frequented, hell you tripped over a fuckin' branch and fell flat on your face. You seemed to be clumsy enough to kill yourself if you weren't careful. That's when he convinced himself he could wait until you did it on your own accord.

Last year, When he first met you, All alone in the forest like an idiot. You were looking for something, he couldn't even remember what it was. He didn't care, all he wanted was something to feast on. But that look on your face just reminded him of the stupid bitch who started all of this, Not that he wasn't over her or anything but just the rogue adventuristic look in your eyes as you climbed around the foliage got him in someplace he'd describe as his heart.

'Did he even have a heart anymore..?' He wondered, lifting a clawed hand up to his chest, he didn't particularly have the time to check that, nor would he ever probably. It was too much of a human thing to worry about.

He shook his head, realising for the good past minute he'd been thinking about you instead of trying to figure out which tree was closest to your bedroom window.

Maybe this way he'd be able to overcome this weird barrier he had, charging right into your place of sanctity, instead of being so damn passive about it all.

[elasticitymudflap]

you think your boy Simon is gonna come back for season 2 or is he all arced out?

LISTEN *GRIPS U* SORRY IM ALL CAPS IM JUST BEING VERY NORMAL RN

SEASON 1 WAS BASICALLY ABOUT GETTING HIM TO THE POINT WHERE HE WAS SIMPLY NO LONGER LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE TO THROW HIS LIFE AWAY, AND RECOGNIZING/NOT ROMANTICIZING THE CONCEPT OF SACRIFICE IN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH BETTY BECAUSE OF HOW DISPROPORTIONALLY SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR HIM IN WAYS HE WASN'T COGNIZANT OF.

IMHO:

SEASON 1 BARELY TOUCHED UPON ADDRESSING OR WORKING THROUGH HIS ICE KING TRAUMA. THIS IS MY FIRST MAIN THING I NEED THEM TO TOUCH UPON.

IT CONCERNS ME THAT SIMON DIDN'T EVEN COMPLETELY CONNECT THE DOTS IN THAT ALL THE CRAP WORLDS THEY WENT TO WERE HINGING ON WHO HE IS AND THE IMPACT HIS LOVE AND SACRIFICE (OR THE LACK THEREOF) HAD ON THE WORLD (DID SORT OF FOR A MOMENT IN THE STAR BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH IMO)

HE'S OBVIOUSLY STILL PROCESSING HIS YEARS TAKING CARE OF MARCY IN THE APOCALYPSE???? THERE WAS NO FOLLOW-UP WITH HER PHONECALL EVEN IN THE FINAL MONTAGE???? WHAT HAPPENED IN OOO WHEN HE DISAPPEARED??? THESE TWO NEED TO FUCKING TALK FOR REAL

WHAT DOES SIMON'S LIFE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S NO LONGER AN EXHIBIT?? HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME/CONSENT TO BECOMING AN EXHIBIT IN THE FIRST PLACE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DID HIS LIFE CHANGE SO DRASTICALLY (OR DID IT NOT) FROM OBSIDIAN??

THE MORAL OF "MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE GONE ON THAT TRIP TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD / WHO KNOWS WHAT LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE" IS SO BAD FOR HIM TO END CONCLUSIVELY ON AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN BECAUSE THE WORLD STILL FUCKING ENDED??? MAYBE HE FOUND THE CROWN, MAYBE HE DIDN'T, BUT EITHER WAY FROM WHAT WE SAW IN THE ALT WORLDS IT WAS ALL GOING TO END IN TRAGEDY AND MAYBE THIS IS THE ONLY WORLD WHERE WE GET A BITTERSWEET END INSTEAD OF A HELL WORLD THANKS TO THEIR DESICIONS??? IDK!!!!!! I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE THAT CONCEPT I THINK

THE UNIVERSE IS OUT OF HIS NOODLE, BUT DOES SIMON'S HEAD-PORTAL STILL WORK?? CAN HE CONNECT TO FIONNA WORLD IF HE'S IN HIGHLY CHARGED MAGICAL ENVIRONMENTS??? ACTUALLY, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE LONG TERM EFFECTS OF A HUMAN HAVING A UNIVERSE IN HIS DANG HEAD

HE'S CONNECTING WITH ASTRID NOW AND SEEMS TO BE ON MUCH BETTER TERMS, IS SHE GOING TO INSPIRE HIM TO START WRITING FIONNA AND CAKE STORIES AGAIN TO COPE IN A HEALTHY WAY WITH HIS PAST THIS TIME??

SIMON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ICE THING???

SIMON'S HUMAN PAST IN GENERAL: WHY IS THIS DUDE THE WAY HE IS??? WHY DID HE BELIEVE THE THINGS HE DID, STUDY THEM, MAKE THEM THE THINGS HE HINGED HIS LIFE AND CAREER ON???

ON THAT NOTE: FLASHBACKS. MOTHER FUCKING FLASHBACKS. MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES WITH BETTY. WE ACTUALLY SEE SO LITTLE OF WHAT THEY WERE LIKE TOGETHER WHEN ACTUALLY HAPPY, HUMAN, AND IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER, IN THEIR ELEMENT, AND NOT STRICKEN WITH LIFE-OR-DEATH DESICION MAKING EXCEPT FOR HIS DUMB ASS GETTING BRAINED BY A CHERRY JAR

HIS YEARNING TO FIND BETTY AND APOLOGIZE TO HER WAS "TECHNICALLY" HANDLED IN THE SHOW, BUT YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THIS DUDE DOESN'T HAVE LASTING ISSUES AND TRAUMA AROUND THAT. ABOUT THE FIRST TIME HE PUT ON THE CROWN AND BETTY DISAPPEARING FOREVER. ABOUT THE GUILT AND FEAR ABOUT HER BEING DEAD DURING THE WAR. ABOUT LIVING NINE FUCKING HUMAN LIFETIMES IN A HAZE WHERE ALL HE KNEW WAS HE HURT THE PERSON HE LOVED MOST AND HE JUST NEEDED TO FIND HER. IT BECAME AN INTEGRAL PART OF ICE KING'S CHARACTER, HIS MOST DEFINING TRAIT STRIPPED TO THE STUDS. HE HELD ONTO THAT LAST PIECE OF SIMON PETRIKOV SOME HOW UNTIL SO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED HIS ONLY HOPE TO EVER FIND HER AGAIN WAS TO USE TIME TRAVEL. I'D LIKE SOME MORE OF THAT, IF YOU PLEASE.

HOW IS HE ACTUALLY COPING POST-SEASON 1? WHAT ARE HIS THOUGHTS ON ALL THE WORLDS THEY VISITED, THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO HIM, THE IMPLICATIONS, HIS INTERPRETATIONS? HE MAY BE IN THERAPY BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING.

ANYWAY