#minors dni tho

[vintagedebutante]

Hush Hush

A JFK x Reader Fanfiction- 18+

Further Info: senator jfk, secretary reader, desk activities, rough sex, caught in the act (gasp)

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: can you tell temporary secretary was on my wrapped this year Sorry this took me so long! Fun fact, this fic is based on an account someone had of walking in on Jack having an encounter with a secretary while he was working as a senator. I can't find the exact passage right now but trust me ok. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!!

You never seemed to mind working late nights. There was something oddly calming about the office after hours--perhaps, the absence of the constant din of ringing telephones, or the gradual silence that fell over the once-busy street below. Though you enjoyed the presence of your colleagues, you found yourself quite productive in this environment. Preparing documents that once felt daunting became a breeze under dim lamplight, plus, there was always the rare opportunity to hand-deliver said documents to the ever-elusive Senator John F. Kennedy.

Usually ducking in and out of meetings, bombarded by phone calls, or out on a business trip somewhere, the Senator was a rare fixture on your floor during normal work hours, much less at night. That you caught him at all was by a sheer stroke of luck. As you plodded down the hallway, freshly-marked papers in hand, you noticed the door to Kennedy’s private office slightly ajar, the room illuminated by the faint glow of his desk lamp. Your heart lept into your throat as you approached the door tentatively, trying to make as little noise as possible out of fear you’d disturb his important business. You gave the already-open door a gentle knock, just loud enough to alert the man of your presence.

“Come in,” Senator Kennedy said absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on important-looking papers scattered across his desk. The air was hazy and thick with lingering smoke from the butt of his cigar, which lay smoldering in a nearby ashtray. You slowly shut the door behind you, accidentally creating a noise loud enough to redirect Kennedy’s attention. A wave of fear nearly knocked you over.

“Oh, my apologies,” you stammered. To your surprise (and relief), Kennedy smirked and began to chuckle. “There are easier ways to get my attention, you know,” he joked. Your cheeks flushed beet red. You knew the effect he had on women. Many of your colleagues were absolutely smitten with the man--and who could blame them? Kennedy had such a disarming way about him, his gentle-looking blue eyes and chiseled masculine jawline were a mere fraction of what made the senator so sought after by the other secretaries. His wit and charming personality had endless swathes of women wrapped around his finger, yourself included.

You let out a coquettish giggle and hid your face with one hand. “I, just, um, finished editing today’s documents.” You were appalled at how dreadfully awkward you sounded, but who wouldn’t struggle to find the right words in front of someone so handsome? “So that’s your excuse, sweetheart? You secretaries are so creative.” Sweetheart. Hearing the nickname in his thick Boston accent turned your knees to rubber. Senator Kennedy stood up behind his desk and gestured for you to come closer, which you immediately obeyed. He placed a rough, hairy knuckle just below your chin and softly tilted your head upward to meet his gaze. The man looked ravenous as if he had been waiting for you to fall into his trap. You felt your heart erupt in a flurry of butterflies as he craned your head to one side, lowering his lips to your ear.

“Promise to be quiet for me?” Kennedy whispered, his textured hands now grasping at your breasts over your blouse. You nodded coyly, your body red-hot with desire.

“Bend over,” he commanded. You set your papers down and pushed them to the side, making room to place your hands down sturdily on Kennedy’s desk. Behind you, the senator slithered his rough hands under your smart plaid wool skirt, hiking it up to your waist before pulling your undergarments down just enough in one swift movement. You felt so exposed. You never dreamed of being the kind of girl who would satisfy a man somewhere so… public. Though, the door was closed, and it was a particularly quiet night, save for the sound of the senator fiddling with his belt.

You inhaled sharply as Kennedy traced his fingers upward along the curve of your backside, pausing to give you a firm squeeze. You felt yourself dripping in anticipation. His teasing was agonizing--you wanted more. Gently, he began to draw circles on your throbbing clit. You clasped a hand over your mouth.

“Struggling already? Don’t break our promise, now,” Kennedy remarked. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his sly grin. Never one to waste time, he quickly removed his finger, replacing it with the tip of his cock at your entrance. Instinctively, you backed into him, trying to accommodate his girth as slowly as you could to not injure yourself.

Rough hands placed firmly on your hips, Senator Kennedy began to set the pace--quicker than you anticipated, but every bit as pleasurable. You swore his hands were leaving prints with the force in which he held you. Kennedy let out a barely audible, almost pained grunt as he buried himself deeper. Desperately, you gripped the desk in an attempt to keep yourself from falling forward. You listened to the senator softly curse and whisper incoherent pleasantries as he steadily quickened his tempo. You felt your stomach turn--the growing sensation of climax was rapidly approaching.

Suddenly, the wooden door swung open.

“Mr. Kennedy--” He paused in shock before finishing his sentence. You were certain no one else was around at this hour, but, sure enough, a suited man had unceremoniously interrupted your rendezvous. Gasping in shock, you hid your face in one hand. “God damn it, did you ever learn to knock?” Senator Kennedy quipped, obviously annoyed.

For a minute, the man stood there watching silently. Though, the Senator didn’t stop, or even slow down. It was almost like his words moments earlier were in vain--had Kennedy wanted the man to see you in complete submission? The thought crossed your mind once more as you looked up to find that the strange man had left, the door still slightly open.

The swelling feeling in the pit of your abdomen returned with force. Your arms shook, struggling to hold your weight as a white-hot wave of pleasure enveloped you. A gasp escaped your parted lips, followed by a hushed moan you could only describe as pathetic--something you were sure Kennedy must have enjoyed. He tightened his grip on your hips as his legs began to quiver.

“Fuck,’ Kennedy grunted, his cock throbbing furiously as he was overtaken by a powerful climax. The senator’s breathing was labored as he slowly removed himself, almost as if he was experiencing physical pain. You stayed frozen in your position for a brief moment of rest, desperate to catch your breath. God, you were sore. Turning around, you watched Kennedy fasten his belt, signature smirk still plastered on his face.

[lesbielol]

ovulation horny makes me want to do unspeakable things 😵‍💫

[somer0b0fangedpup]

when you literally just think about him touching you and suddenly you’re getting wet and panting a little even though you haven’t even done anything to yourself because your puppy instincts have been kicking in ever since he started training you and your mind just fills up with the need to be claimed and taken ‘cause you’re just a desperate pet ready to present yourself to him

[wordsvomit101]

That awkward moment when you realized that your big bro got laid with the person you tried to kill.

Author Notes: Credits to @eternal_auditor & @jazeswhbhaven, I got this idea for this shameless worldbuilding headcanons for Heaven and Angels thanks to both of them and the latter's "Angel Bros Headcanons: Michael Flips" post. I also just want to write the scenario in general. Warnings: Raphael is a caution flag himself, depictions of violence, thoughts of brutalizing and eating someone (being directed at MC) by Raphael, a lot of name-calling from Raphael directed at MC

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(Heaven - Time of Councils and Assemblies)

In the tranquil embrace of Heaven, evening descends like a gentle caress, casting a soft golden hue upon the timeless realm. As the radiant sun dips below the horizon of ethereal clouds, the celestial landscape is bathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colors that stretches across the vast expanse of the heavenly domain. The sky is like a canvas painted lovingly by the hands of God, with the colors of a thousand sunsets, each stroke a masterpiece of divine artistry. The clouds, like celestial brushstrokes, dance across the canvas, their forms ever-changing, their edges illuminated with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the celestial splendor, angelic beings gracefully glide through the sky upon the archways of purest gold span the thoroughfares of Heaven, their graceful curves reminiscent of angelic wings in flight. Beneath these archways lie crystal atriums, their transparent walls revealing the celestial wonders of Heaven in all their resplendent glory. Their iridescent wings shimmer with divine light, flying gracefully as if they dance and pirouette in ethereal ballets, painting radiant trails of luminescence across the sky.

The lower-ranking angels engage in celestial chorales, their melodious voices intertwining in harmonies that resonate throughout the Heaven. The soaring soprano of archangels blends seamlessly with the velvety alto of cherubim, weaving a symphony that would uplift the soul and transport the listener to realms of pure bliss. The music reverberates through the celestial expanse, like a cosmic symphony conducted to worship the Almighty.

For middle-ranking angels, their beloved duty during the Pilgrimage to the Mount of Revelation to commune with their dear creator has to be despairingly pushed to merely Contemplation of Sacred Texts and attending to the Halls of Eternal Wisdom, a lesser, but an honorable duty nonetheless.

Even higher above, amidst ethereal spires and resplendent palaces that grace the heavenly expanse, angelic artisans toil diligently within the Halls of Artistry. Their deft hands sculpt magnificent statues and weave intricate tapestries, each a testament to the wonders of creation. They yearn for the day when their divine creator will bestow upon them a glimpse of their artistry, even a millisecond of recognition for their unwavering dedication to him would be more than enough.

While other angels tend to the flourishing celestial flora in the Gardens of Eternal Bliss. Radiant blooms burst forth in a splendor of colors, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence. The angels nurture these heavenly gardens with love and care, a single damage to a petal of these beautiful flowers is enough to have their heads roll to the disgusting pit of Hell, however making a mistake in God's favorite garden is an even bigger sin.

It is a mundane day for all of them.

Bang!

"Sir-!"

Creak!

"AAAAAA-!"

Crunch!

"I have yet to finish my prayer-!"

Snap!

However, it wouldn't be a normal day if there wasn't a Raphael brutally tearing and eating fleshes of every angel on his path to the Chamber of Divine Counsel to meet with other Seraphs. His blood-caked shoes thundering over polished marble as he swaggers through the vaulted corridors of Heaven, his crimson-smeared wings unfurling like banners of carnage. Red marred his short blonde hair and white attire. With each wrathful step, he leaves a trail of dismembered angel carcasses, their alabaster feathers floating like ethereal snowflakes in his wake. His crimson eye fully emits an aura of violence and fury.

Thump!

Bursting into the Chamber of Divine Counsel with enough force to make the office tremble, the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, and the other Seraphs present, Gabriel and Michael, sat in their resplendent chairs, their expressions inscrutable. Raphael's form, however, drenched in the gore of his victims, stood in stark contrast to the pristine surroundings. He only has one thought of personally feasting upon that purple hair wench's flesh when she is still alive and making her watch herself being devoured alive and cut off her tongue so she couldn't even voice out her pain.

"Why... Why is it always her...! That bitch!"

The pure white chairs, crafted from the finest celestial ivory, bore the brunt of his rage, splintering and crumbling under his kicks. Yet Gabriel and Michael, their faces devoid of emotion, paid him little attention.

"If you insist on throwing a tantrum, I implore you to do so in a realm more suited to such sorrowful displays. Hell would accommodate your temperaments more appropriately."

Michael stood tall over the intricately designed long table with a mindmap and countless brainstorming notes. Standing in a place Brother Lucifer used to stand in each council meeting. His glare locked on the furious blonde seraph before him. A frown, as if carved in stone, creased his handsome face, adding an air of solemnity to his prideful demeanor. Around his neck, a regal purple choker, embellished with ornate gold rings and shimmering gemstones, encircled his throat. At its center, a prominent gold ring held a solemn cross pendant, its gentle clinking accompanying his every movement.

In a swift motion, Michael tilted his head to the left, displaying effortless grace as he dodged the flying chair hurtling towards him at high speed. The chair collided with the wall, its impact leaving a deep dent in the panel, a testament to the force behind the throw.

"Shut that shitty mouth of yours! Maybe try to go down there yourself to ask why our dear brother is entertaining trash!" As Raphael spoke, his voice trembled with anger and frustration, his words dripping with venomous accusation. A few veins already popped on his crazed, striking appearance. Filled with unrepressed anger that led him to kill his spies who reported to him and fly from the dungeon up here.

Yet Michael continued to look at his notes, his face blissfully indifferent. His right hand continued to write on many of his papers on the white table.

"He has simply strayed from the right path."

Brother Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for the vile tiny red devil.

'Stop it.'

However, he couldn't say the same about his head. Memories he had been trying to wipe from his mind for years served only to haunt him. Taunting him of the gut-wrenching event more than a hundred years ago.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the rotten red thing.

'Don't dirty your hands.'

His brother stroked that thing's body so softly with his hands so similar to how he once did with Michael's face. Those strong, beautiful hands that once held his face so tenderly to wipe his tears away. As he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

'Brother...'

"I remain confident in my ability to guide him back to the right path." 

His brother's hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Brother Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of the disgusting beast's chest, unable to advance further. He was again protecting worthless things that didn't deserve his grace.

'Why did you save it?!'

When his brother finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

'No-NononononoNONO-'

From his beloved brother’s head, the gorgeous head of the Morning Star, bright red horns that were the same color as the vile thing that tempted him began to grow.

'Brother- Brother Lucifer please!'

"You shall witness it in due time."

"I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance. Return."

Crack!

The force of Michael's left hand left a massive crack in the opulent crystal marble table that trailed down to the other end of it. Effectively bringing clarity back to Raphael as the blonde gazes at Michael's hard knuckle gripping the table painfully, ignoring the blood pooling down to the marble floor and further dirtying the former pristine chamber.

Michael's abrupt actions were met with an air of knowing silence from the two. It wouldn't be far-fetched if they possessed a secret understanding of his motivations that would elude outsiders.

"Hmph," a scoff rang out and pierced the silence of the room, originating from the slender man with platinum blonde hair seated to Michael's right. His face, though classically handsome with a pale complexion, remained stoic and emotionless, belying the arrogance that dripped from the single syllable he uttered.

"Then you better live up to those words."

Gabriel's lean was a graceful movement, his body sinking into the chair as if it were a throne. His arms crossed over his chest, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting sharply with the gleam of the gold chain that adorned his white jabot ruffle shirt. The fabric of his sleeves rustled softly against the delicate filigree, creating a symphony of subtle sounds that echoed through the silent room. His eyes, deep and enigmatic, surveyed the scene before him, his expression a mixture of amusement and quiet contemplation.

"Furthermore, even in his current state, Brother Lucifer still demonstrates a reverence for God. It is conceivable that his actions are merely a symptom of his yearning for God's divine presence."

In this timeless realm, where Gabriel proudly proclaims to reign supreme as the epitome of seraphic obedience, there exists but one for whom he would willingly surrender his esteemed position: Brother Lucifer. The firstborn of God's creations, Brother Lucifer's devotion to his Maker surpassed all others, earning him the title of Morning Star. His brilliance illuminated the heavens, casting an unrivaled radiance that even Gabriel's wings could not obscure.

It was Brother Lucifer who instilled within the celestial choirs the rituals and observances that expressed their gratitude to the Almighty. Yet amidst his unwavering piety, Brother Lucifer adhered to a solitary discipline known only to himself. Only a select few had glimpsed this secret regimen, elusive even to those who had followed his every step for countless eons.

Solitary would not be said without Brother Lucifer's name being attached to the word. He found solace in his own construction of hallowed sanctuaries. These Majestic Temples of Worship at odd places in Heaven served as his solitary refuge, where he could commune with the divine without the distractions of others. His devotion ignited a spark in other angels, who, inspired by his example, crafted Halls of Artistry. They sculpted countless colossal statues of the Almighty, their grandeur exceeding the limits of mortal imagination.

No one dared step one foot into his havens, they were for Brother Lucifer alone, and death would be upon those who broke that unspoken rule.

Yet there were times he allowed Gabriel to join him during Celestial Meditation in the secluded Garden of Eternal Reflection, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. Here, amidst the fragrant blossoms and tranquil pools, Brother Lucifer let Gabriel join his silent meditation and prayers. It was one of the highlights of Gabriel's day when his brother was still around.

"Not if he is messing with the descendant of Solomon."

Raphael's voice now had the former rage in it that reminded him of what he came here for, to be in these two insufferable presences. He could barely believe it when one of his spies uttered those words out of their useless mouth. That Lucifer? The Morning Star? His brother who despises Solomon as much as any other angel and the one that would bite another head off if they recklessly touched him even in the rendezvous night at the sacred Eternal Flame at the heart of Heaven where they allowed themselves to let loose for a bit?

It sounds fucking unbelievable, but when they show him a picture of that purple-haired vixen bumping parts with his brother, it sends him off the reels. He kills most of the spies and storms out of his favorite dungeon to here.

"Pardon?" Michael's mismatched eyes bulged, his neck creaking and twitching as he stared up at Raphael in a frenzy of incomprehension, his falsely composed display gone. The mere hint of the truth was liable to send the black-haired Seraph into a rampage and murder them all.

"Are you suggesting..." Gabriel's face, previously etched in stoicism, crumbled into a mask of horror. He couldn't believe the words that had escaped Raphael's lips, but he couldn't shake the realization that was slowly creeping upon him. He desperately wished that the words that came out of Raphael's mouth were nothing more than a cruel jest, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"I said, he's with the descendant of Solomon, that purple-haired harlot...that traitor....that cheat- That tempting trash!"

It pissed Raphael off even more as he raised his voice volume, veins now appearing on his throat, especially at the reminder of his text with that two-timer. The sheer self-satisfied energy radiating off his phone screen almost makes him fly down to Hell to choke that bitch until her brain pops out of her head himself.

"This is preposterous...impossible..." Michael's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with disbelief as Raphael's accusations cut through the air like a madman who had just been cheated on. His normally steady stance faltered, replaced by a palpable sense of hysteria that made his body tremble. He stumbled backward, his back colliding with the cold, unforgiving wall as if seeking solace from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to consume him. The wall provided no comfort, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the turmoil raging through his body.

"I'm not joking. I heard her talking about Lucifer, his scar, his... 'thing'," The mere mention of his beloved brother's private part sends shivers down his spine as his voice quivered. The thought of that conniving bitch taking full advantage of the trust Brother Lucifer had placed in her made his blood boil with simmering rage. And that she dared to go against her promise to him as if those moments they shared in the poisonous sky of Hell meant nothing.

"She knows his exact measurements!- You know what, look at this shit yourself!" With a resounding slam that echoed through the room like a thunderclap, he unveiled the damning evidence: a collection of photographs frozen in time, capturing moments of intimate interaction between Lucifer and the individual in question.

The images fell upon the table with a heavy thud, causing the fragile surface to tremble under the weight of their revelation. Despite the force of impact that threatened to shatter the fragile table beneath them, the pictures remained intact, their unspoken truth radiating from their glossy surfaces like a painful revelation begging to be acknowledged.

Michael's face contorted with a ghastly twitch as if he were attempting to conjure laughter, but the sound that escaped his lips was more akin to a hollow echo in the thick, suffocating atmosphere. "Shut up," his mind struggled to piece together the unthinkable truth that lay sprawled before him like a macabre revelation. Denial, a feeble shield against the onslaught of evidence, crumbled before the weight of reality, leaving him quaking.

"I swear before Thrones of Heavenly Majesty I will make her rue the day she even touched him. She corrupted him and brought him over to the side of temptation. God would never-" As Gabriel's solemn vow echoed through the room, the air crackled with the intensity of his conviction, thick with the gravity of impending retribution for the sinner.

His words struck a nerve, exacerbating Michael's fraying composure. The gravity of the situation bore down upon him like a suffocating weight, his anger bubbling to the surface in fervor.

"FUCKING SHUT UP! IT'S NOT REAL! IT'S NOT REAL!" Michael's voice cracked with anguish and insanity, his outburst sending shockwaves through the chamber. In his distress, the chamber was engulfed in an inferno, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls. In the distance, the echo of Michael's despair mingled with the desperate prayers and curses of those trapped within the blazing office. The once-orderly chamber had become a scene of utter chaos and destruction.

"O, Almighty Creator," Gabriel's voice trembled with urgency, his words a fervent entreaty to the absent God above. "Grant us clarity in this hour of darkness, illuminate our path with Your divine light."

Meanwhile, Gabriel's attempts at prayer offered little solace as he grappled with the implications of Raphael's revelations.

His murmurs grew more frantic with each passing moment, a desperate attempt to find solace in the face of unsettling truths. "Guide us through this tempest, O Lord, for we are adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Let Your wisdom be our compass, and Your mercy our salvation."

But despite his fervent appeals, only shrieks and flames answer back, echoing throughout Heaven from the burning chamber they're in.

"She said she'd only do that with me..." Raphael’s voice cracked with bitterness, each word laced with venomous resentment. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the seething anger threatening to consume him whole. "...she lied...she lied..."

The weight of betrayal hung heavy in his heart, suffocating him with its oppressive presence. Raphael's chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart aching with the sting of betrayal. "Fucking cheater..." His words dripped with venom, the bitterness of betrayal poisoning his soul.

With a primal snarl, Raphael's control shattered like glass, shards of rage cutting deep into his consciousness. He lashed out blindly, his teeth sinking into the flesh of a passing stupidly brave angel that came to check on the three Seraphs, the taste of blood a bitter reminder of his own foolishness.

"I hate her..." The words escaped his lips in a guttural growl, each syllable dripping with raw fury. His grip tightened around the angel's trembling form, nails digging into flesh as he sought to vent his pent-up rage on an unwitting victim.

"I'm not sloppy seconds..." Raphael's voice cracked with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze like a firestorm. He tore into the angel's flesh with savage ferocity, his actions a grotesque display of his inner turmoil. "...I'm no side bitch!"

Boom!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hm?", in the dim recesses of his grandiose office, Lucifer, who was engrossed in his craftsmanship of carving the statue of the divine, lifted his gaze from his artistic endeavor by the sudden but subtle yet discernible disturbance in the island above the sky of Hell.

His pure white eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Despite the plaster and pigments that adorned his once-pristine garments save for his bloody back that had his broken wings. His form radiated a timeless beauty, marred only by the grim expression on his handsome visage.

The sensation he felt was like a creeping up from above, like a ripple in the placid waters of a celestial lake.

'What are those three getting angry at right now?'

Raon, who was perched upon the plush velvet couch that adorned his office, her tall form immersed in the pages of an ancient tome, looked up swiftly at Lucifer's voice, a rare occurrence after hours of silence.

Once she raised her gaze from the text, her curious eyes meeting Lucifer's form with silent inquiry. Normally, she would wait until Lucifer is willing to tell her what is on his mind, but currently, she is bored and needs a break after reading several magic grimoires Lucifer gave her and practicing with them for almost a whole day.

'Let's just hope he will at least give me a short answer.'

"Um, Lucifer, is there something wrong?" Raon's voice, soft and tentative, carried a note of concern as she awaited his response, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lucifer's answer was measured, his words carrying the weight of foreboding. "I feel there's a disturbance. There would be a storm soon," he left out the part that it was most likely his brothers being angry about something again.

"Is it related to the angels?" Yet the young woman still managed to catch onto the hidden message, her question not directed at ordinary angels but at his brothers as she nervously tightened her grip on her grimoire.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Very likely," he confirmed. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon but his voice relaxed to ease the lady's tension as he contemplated the unfolding events in the celestial realm.

"Oh, then I will get back to my training-", with a subtle shift of his form, he turned his attention back to Raon, his gaze meeting hers with a serene intensity as he stood up to clean himself with a swipe of his finger. He tidied himself with a cleaning spell and put his tools and statues back into their orderly places without doing so himself physically—a casual display of his magic that Raon wishes to get to one day.

"It's fine," Lucifer assured her, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's take a rest. Care to join me for a walk to the observatory room?" Quietly, he held out his right arm for her to hold on to if she wanted to accompany him.

Raon's heart fluttered at the invitation, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Really? I-I mean, of course! Please lead the way." Her words spilled forth in a rush of eagerness, her eyes shining with anticipation as she rose from her seat and she excitedly but carefully walked over to Lucifer's spot.

As Raon raised her gaze, a silent query lingering in her eyes, she studied the handsome devil's countenance for the slightest hint of unease. Finding none, she shyly reached out and clasped his arm, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they embarked on a leisurely stroll, the pace unhurried yet purposeful.

Lucifer, typically swift in his movements, slowed his steps to accommodate Raon, pausing whenever she expressed a desire to linger and marvel at the exquisite white blossoms that adorned Paradise Lost, a sight reserved only for the privileged few. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility and reverence as they meandered through the garden, each step bringing them closer to their destination, yet allowing them to savor the beauty that surrounded them. Unbothered by the chaos that is currently exploding in Heaven.

[msbyslilbimbo]

im tweaking over the idea of sae recording you and shidou having sex while shidou is in a muzzle 🙂‍↕️🩷

it’s being written like. right now. like im brain rotting rn ANSKSNDJD-

[angelyuji]

CREEPY STALKER FORD, MY BELOVED 💕 He'd def know his crush's entire schedule and would follow them back to their dorm so that he can watch them through their window, or better yet, happens to be able to see into their window from his with a telescope or something. Also seems like the type to be a panty thief. Jerking off to the object of his obsession while watching them through his window or with a stolen pair of their panties.

omg babe u read my mind. the whole time he’s got a hand on ur window, watching you, he’s thinking to himself “this is all for research. all for research purposes.” and he’s holding back moans and breathing heavily as he watches you get off in ur bed, completely oblivious to ur peeping tom.

[beddesth]

found this while doing gallery clean-up

I need to top someone in this combo so bad

[writer-rubes]

Rodger and Toodles in…

The Case of the Stolen Gift

Summary: Rodger takes a case to help Scraps find her lost birthday present, and Toodles tries her best to help.

A/N: Yep. I fell into Dandy’s World. It was bound to happen with my friend group and how cute the game is uwu But I’m testing out the fics here to see how people like them! Though this fic isn’t centered on tickles, there is a little bit of them! Besides, this idea was just cute-

The rules still apply, no minors interact with this please. Though these are childlike ideas, and would fit fine in a children’s program, as these are cartoons, without confirmed ages, I still prefer no minors. Thank you.

Anywhosums, hope you enjoy!

CW: Fluff, interrogation, bits of Lee!Glisten, Ler!Toodles, and Lee!Rodger mentions, Father-daughter fluff

(NO SHIPS!)

————————————————————————————————————————————

Rodger let out a little sigh as he worked on papers in his room. He loved investigating and solving mysteries, but it was the field work he loved the most. He was practical, smart, and straight-forward, but he loved exploring, gathering information, and getting his hands dirty. Then again, there was a sense of calm to doing paperwork…

“Rodger!”

And it was ruined.

Rodger jumped slightly, a few of the papers on his desk slipping to the floor. The toon who burst into his room screaming was Scraps. A toon he was alright with. She was kind, yet feisty. Which made sense, as she was an origami cat. Rodger picked up the papers that fell to the ground.

“Scraps, I am a little busy…” He groaned.

“I know, Rodger… but I need your help!” Scraps cried. “You know how my brother Goob’s birthday is tomorrow?”

Rodger nodded. “Yes, I already have my gift ready for him. It’s a new painting smock for him that fully covers his arms. I know how hard it is for him to clean them sometimes.”

“You might have your gift, but that’s why I’m here! Mine was stolen!” Scraps exclaimed.

Now that got Rodger’s attention.

“What?” He properly looked at Scraps, and grabbed his notepad.

“It was awful!” Scraps whined, her pink ears flattening. “I had it hidden under my bed, and it took forever to get my present right!” Rodger nodded, writing it down, his eye meeting her eyes.

“I’m sure you’re distraught, Scraps. Tell me what happened.” He said, holding his notepad below his magnifying glass head.

“Well…” Scraps started. “Last night, I finished wrapping it while Goob was hanging out with Teagan. I hid it under my bed, and covered it with a towel to make sure my brother didn’t see it.”

Rodger nodded and wrote along as Scraps continued.

“I checked to make sure it was still there before I went to bed. And after I woke up the next morning. Then, Flutter called me over to help her make a cover for a book of poetry she was writing. Of course I was happy to help. But when I got back and checked under my bed again, it was gone!”

Rodger finished writing all of that down, and nodded again.

“I see… And what did you get for him?” Scraps whispered her present for Goob to him, and he nodded. “Well, not to worry, Scraps. I’ll find your birthday present for Goob. And before his party, too.” He assured the paper cat.

“But his party is tomorrow!” Scraps cried. “It’ll be really hard to find it in time!”

“I’ve always loved a challenge, Scraps.” Rodger chuckled as he escorted Scraps out of his room. He left as well, but not before grabbing a binder.

‘Another birthday present stolen.’ Rodger thought. ‘That’s the fourth one in two months. One for Sprout’s birthday, Tisha’s, and Poppy’s… There’s clearly a pattern. But what would anyone gain from stealing birthday presents? Other than making other Toons feel like awful friends?’

As Rodger pondered, he didn’t notice a little eight ball walking down the hall. But she noticed him. She knew that look in his eye… He had taken a new case! This was her chance!

“Hi, Rodger!” She cried.

Rodger yelped again, sighing. What was it with people startling him today? Thankfully, he didn’t drop anything.

“Well, if it isn’t the junior detective.” Rodger calmed down when he realized it was Toodles.

Rodger had always had an interesting bond with Toodles. He was created long before her, as Toodles was one of the last of the Toons created. She bonded with him immediately, much to his chagrin. But he quickly felt a strong attachment to her. Like she was his own…

‘No need to dwell on that, Rodger…’ The detective thought.

“You’re doing another case, aren’t you? Can I help this time? Can I? Please?” Toodles begged, giving him puppy eyes that could put Pebble to shame.

“Put those eyes away, Toodles.” Rodger said in a gentle tone. “I think you’re ready to help me with this case.”

“Really?!” Toodles cried excitedly, rushing up to his side faster than lighting.

“But,” Rodger quickly added. “I am going to teach you and guide you. So you can learn how to be a wonderful detective. Got it?”

Toodles quickly nodded. Rodger rubbed his hand over the eight ball’s head.

“Now, suit up, little detective. We’ve got a thief to catch.”

————————————————————————————————————————————

Rodger filled Toodles in on the case, and she was of course willing to help. She liked Scraps, and no one deserved to have gifts they worked so hard to make, or find, taken. She was happy to aid Rodger in finding the thief and getting the present back.

One thing the detectives had to consider was keeping Goob out of the room he shared with Scraps, so they could investigate the room, without spoiling his birthday surprise. Thankfully, that was easy. Poppy and Boxten invited him to play with them, so they could check for evidence without any interruption.

“Now, little detective, the key to finding evidence is to observe your surroundings, and look for anything that may indicate someone except for Goob or Scraps was here…” Rodger explained.

Toodles nodded, and got down on her hands and knees to look around the room for clues, while Rodger searched the tables, closets, and shelves. Whoever snuck into the room had to have left something to indicate their presence…

“Found something!” Toodles exclaimed.

She pulled the towel that Scraps used to hide the present from under the bed. It was a simple white towel, in order to not draw attention to it. She stood up, and handed it to Rodger.

“Well done, Toodles.” Rodger took the towel, and pet the little detective on the head, making her giggle.

Rodger inspected the towel closely, and noticed something on it. A pink, glittery dust on the fabric. It wasn’t plain glitter, there was plenty of that in the room, the craft siblings loved glitter. But it was too fine and dusty, like powder.

It was makeup. And there was only one Toon in the museum who wore that much pink makeup…

“Glisten.” Rodger muttered. “Well, little detective, we’ve got a lead.” Toodles smiled mischievously.

“Let’s go, Rodger!” She cried. Rodger nodded.

“We’ve got a mirror to question.”

————————————————————————————————————————————

Glisten, the vain mirror Toon, was in his room, busy looking through his closet at the time. He needed a beautiful, but not too distracting, outfit for Goob’s birthday party tomorrow. Of course he still loved attention and praise for his looks, but he wasn’t going to take all of it away from Goob. It was his birthday, after all.

“No, no… Blazer jackets are so last season.” Glisten muttered to himself. “I need something that makes a statement. Something that will add a splash of color to Goob’s party- Oh, that’s it! Something colorful would be perfect!” Glisten dug through his closet. “And it will match flawlessly with the leg warmers I’ll give to him!”

Glisten then pulled out a pink shirt with a light blue gradient on the sleeves. It had flared sleeves and glitter around the collar.

“This is perfect!” He cried. “And I can wear my blue bow tomorrow to match it!”

He hung that and the shirt on a hook next to his bed. He then heard a knock on his door. He gasped, and pulled out a compact mirror to check if his makeup was messy. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

“Come in!” He called. The door opened, and Toodles entered the room.

“Toodles, darling!” Glisten smiled, and knelt down in front of her. “I’m afraid we can’t do makeovers today, I still have to go over to Razzle and Dazzle’s room to help them rehearse… And I have to look for something I lost.”

“I’m not here for makeovers, Glisten.” Toodles said in a serious voice, as Rodger entered the room behind her.

“We need some answers.” Rodger added. Glisten’s eyes widened, and he stood up, dusting himself off.

“Rodger!” He cried, taking a breath. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today! I thought you were getting ready for Goob’s party, like everyone else!”

“I am, in my own way.” Rodger said. “Scraps is missing her birthday present for her brother, and we found your makeup on the towel she hid it with.” He let out a little growl. “Why were you in their room?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Glisten backed up until he bumped into his bed. He leaned against it, nervous at Rodger and Toodles staring him down. He loved to be stared at, but not like this…

“Glisten, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way.” Rodger sternly spoke. “Boxten did happen to give me a way to make you talk after all.” Toodles smirked as he said that.

“I really wanna know if he’s right!” Toodles added.

Glisten gulped. He was backed in a corner… but he couldn’t let them find out why he was in the craft siblings’ room.

“Look, even if I wanted to tell you, I can’t…” He begged. “It wouldn’t be right of me to spoil it!”

“It also wouldn’t be right to steal a birthday present.” Rodger retorted. Glisten gasped.

“You think I stole it?” The vain mirror cried. “I would never do that to her! I may be self centered, but I’m not cruel!”

Rodger glared, but his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath.

“Fine. Then we’re doing this the hard way.” He said calmly. “Go on, Toodles.”

“Yay!” The eight ball grabbed onto Glisten, and clung to his midsection like a koala. Glisten yelped, and fell backwards onto the bed, being careful not to hurt her.

“H-hey!” The mirror cried. “What are you doing?!”

He tried to pull her off without harming her by mistake, but the girl had a really strong grip. Glisten then yelped again when he felt Toodles’ hands scribble up and down his sides and back, and rubbing where her nose would be over his stomach. Glisten tried not to react, but since he was really ticklish, he really couldn’t, and he burst out laughing.

“L-let go of me! That tickles!” Glisten laughed, as he tried not to struggle too much out of worry of hurting her, but it was very hard.

“Better get to talking then, Glisten. She can do this all day. Believe me, I know...” Rodger shivered as he watched Toodles tickle the mirror. But he had to admit, it was really entertaining to watch.

Looks like Boxten wasn’t lying.

After a minute, Glisten cracked, though not literally.

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk!” Glisten waved the white flag. Toodles was a ruthless tickler. Everyone who was friends with her could vouch for that.

“Alright, little detective, that’s enough. Let him go.” Rodger said. Toodles nodded, and mostly got off of Glisten. She still sat on his knees, however.

“If you hold back details, I’ll tickle you again!” She giggled mischievously.

“I won’t, I promise!” Glisten gulped. He knew Toodles wasn’t the type to go back on her word.

Rodger grabbed a chair, and sat down in front of the bed. He held up his notepad, his eye narrowing.

“Look…” Glisten began. “I did take Scraps’ present from under her bed. Gigi told me that Scraps couldn’t get her present wrapped correctly, so I went to retrieve it while she was busy. I did it so I could wrap it properly, and make it as beautiful as the gift I wrapped.” His eyes widened when Rodger glared at him.

“But I was going to give it back! I don’t have it anymore, I swear!” The mirror cried. “I ran out of glitter, so I went get some more from the art cabinet! But when I came back, it was gone!”

“Why would Gigi tell you Scraps couldn’t wrap her gift right?” Rodger pondered. “Why would that be her business?”

I-I don’t know, I promise! I just wanted to help Scraps!” He was nervous Toodles would think that he was lying.

Rodger nodded, taking a deep breath. He finished writing everything in his notepad.

“Let him go, Toodles. We have a certain capsule to confront.” He stood up.

Toodles smiled slightly, and poked Glisten in the stomach again, making him squeak.

“We can still do makeovers after Goob’s party tomorrow, right?” Toodles asked cheerfully. Glisten nodded.

“Sure, not a problem, darling…”

Toodles giggled, and got off Glisten, following Rodger out of the room.

————————————————————————————————————————————

Gigi was putting away a few things she had gathered in her room. Her room was a big mess, but it was her mess. At least, that was what she told Tisha. She had a bunch of junk or items she took from other Toons scattered around in various piles. It was completely organized to her.

“Let’s see… Poppy’s new soda flavors can go in the edible pile, and the limited edition candy wrappers can go in the foil pile.” The capsule muttered under her breath.

The capsule heard a knock on her door, and when she opened it, her eyes widened. She never really got along that well with Rodger, so him coming to see her with Toodles right behind him must be for a reason.

“Oh, um… Hey there, Rodger.” Gigi laughed nervously. “Care to see a few new items I got for my collection?”

“I’m not here for observing, Gigi.” Rodger said firmly. “Care to explain why you told Glisten that Scraps couldn’t wrap her gift right? Why is that your business?”

Gigi’s eyes widened. That prissy mirror told them? Oh, she had a lot of strong words for that vain, overconfident piece of glass…

“Rodger, it’s not what it sounds like, i-it really isn’t…” Gigi stuttered.

“Then what does it sound like?” Toodles cried suddenly. “Maybe it sounds like you set Glisten up to steal Scraps’ present!”

“Now, Toodles…” Rodger put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” He knew Toodles was right, but he wanted Gigi to admit it herself.

Gigi took a deep breath. She opened the capsule top in her head, and pulled out a box overly covered in glitter and pink.

“Fine… it was me.” She admitted.

Gigi handed the present to Rodger, and the magnifying glass handed it to Toodles to hold. She smiled brightly, and kept it safe. She knew how special birthday presents were.

“Flutter needing Scraps to help make a book cover was the perfect way to get that present, wasn’t it?” Rodger said. “And you knew you couldn’t get in there without leaving an obvious trail, and you knew Glisten couldn’t resist dolling up Scraps’s gift, so you sent him to retrieve it, so you could get it from his room…”

Gigi nodded. “Yeah… And I knew Scraps would get the perfect present for Goob, she’s his sister.”

“I just don’t understand.” Rodger pondered. “Why did you do it? Don’t you have plenty of items for your collection? And stealing birthday presents is just… cruel.”

“I know…” Gigi sighed. “But I didn’t take it for me. I took it for Goob. Scraps knew exactly what Goob wanted, and I don’t. And I can’t give up anything from my collection due to sentimental reasons.” She looked down in shame. “I want Goob to have a wonderful birthday, so I wanted to give him a present I knew he’d like…”

“But why take someone else’s present and not give your own?” Rodger asked.

“Because…” Gigi wrapped her sweater covered arms around herself. “I want my friends to have a good birthday by giving them something they like. But I never know what to get them… So getting gifts from others to pass off as my own feels like the only way.”

“It’s not, Gigi.” Toodles piped up. “It doesn’t matter what the present is, or how valuable it is. It’s the thought that counts, and the love you put into it.” She smiled a bit. “Take the gift I made for Goob for example. It’s just a drawing of me playing with him, but I know he’ll love it! Because I worked hard and put love into it!”

Gigi thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right.” Gigi muttered. “But even if that’s true, I still don’t know what to do for him. It’s hard to get creative.” She sighed.

“Well…” Rodger’s eye caught something in Gigi’s collection. It was a pack of glittery stickers.

“Why don’t you start small?”

He picked up the pack of stickers, and handed them to the capsule. Gigi stared at them, a little confused.

“You want me to give these to Goob?” Gigi asked. Rodger nodded.

“They’re small, thoughtful, and he’d like them.” Rodger explained. “I know you struggle to give things away since you like keeping them… But everyone can start somewhere.”

Gigi thought about it. It was true, her hoarding was becoming a problem. Tisha wouldn’t even talk to her anymore due to how messy her room was, and so many Toons were upset that she kept their stuff. Maybe this was a good idea. Good for everyone.

“Okay… I’ll try, Rodger. And… tell Scraps I’m sorry for stealing her present.”

“You can tell her that yourself at Goob’s party.” Rodger said firmly, but without ill intent. He slowly left the room, Toodles skipping behind him.

Scraps was walking down the hall, and she saw Rodger and Toodles in front of her. She walked over to them, a little nervous.

“Rodger! Toodles!” She cried. “Great to see you. Have you found my gift yet?” Toodles nodded.

“We did!” The eight ball held up the neat, glittery present box for Scraps.

Scraps let out a delighted purr, and took the present from Scraps. She took a peek inside, and her gift was still in there, and perfectly intact. She trilled happily.

“Oh, thank you!” She gave Rodger a hug, then bent down to give one to Toodles. “Thank you so much! This means so much to me!”

“All in a day’s work, Scraps.” Rodger chuckled. Toodles nodded.

“And in a junior detective’s work, too!” She piped up. Scraps laughed and rubbed Toodles’ head.

“You both did great. Now, you two better get ready for the party tomorrow. I’ll make sure Sprout and Cosmo can get you both extra cake!” Scraps then rushed back to her room.

Rodger looked down at Toodles, a gentle look in his eye.

“You did wonderful, Toodles. Finding the evidence, getting answers from Glisten, and making sure the property was returned to its owner. You’re a great little detective.”

Toodles felt a rush of excitement in her heart. She rushed to Rodger, and gave him a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of him. He chuckled, and returned it. Toodles then smirked slightly, and looked up at the magnifying glass.

“You do realize you essentially told Glisten that I tickled you all day one time, right?” She asked playfully. Rodger rolled his eye, but still was obviously cheerful.

“He doesn’t know the full story, and I intend to keep it that way.”

————————————————————————————————————————————

The next day, Goob’s birthday party was in full swing. After he blew out his candles, and Sprout and Cosmo handed out pieces of cake, Goob went through the gifts the other Toons got for him. He loved every single one, whether they were toys, art supplies, or just cards with drawings. It was the thought that counted.

Finally, he got to Scraps’ present. He was saving it for last, as he knew his sister would give him something wonderful. His arms were a little difficult to manage sometimes. They were great for hugs… not much for opening things.

“Need help with that, Goob?” Cosmo offered. The fluffy craft shook his head.

“No, I got it!” He cried. “It’s hard to get it open without messing with the paper too much! It’s too pretty to destroy!”

Glisten chuckled. He knew helping Scraps was a good idea. Even if Gigi set him up.

Goob finally got the gift open after a minute of trying. He gasped slightly at its contents. It was a wonderfully knit pair of mittens. One was red with a blue heart on the palm, and the other was blue with a red heart on the palm. And on the back of the mittens were silhouettes of the craft siblings. Scraps got up from her chair after finishing her slice of cake to help him put them on.

“Wow, sis! I love them!” Goob cried. “They’re so warm and comfy! Perfect for winter!” He said excitedly. Scraps smiled.

“Yeah, well… they’re for more than that.” Scraps admitted. “I noticed you’re… a bit scared to give hugs to the more fragile Toons. Like Poppy and Looey for example.” She took a little breath. “So I made sure they were extra soft so you wouldn’t risk popping or harming them in any way.”

Goob was silent for a moment, before little tears formed in his eyes. He then stretched his arms to wrap around his sister’s middle, and pulled her into the tightest, warmest hug he could muster.

“I love them, I love them!” He cried in an ecstatic, overjoyed tone. “Thank you, thank you!” Scraps laughed as Goob hugged her.

“Easy, little bro!” She joked. “You’ll make my tail crumple!”

As Scraps promised, Toodles and Rodger both got an extra slice of cake for their help. Toodles was happy, but Rodger packed his extra slice for later. While everyone was mingling and playing party games, Gigi walked over to Rodger and Toodles.

“Um… I just wanted to thank you both.” Gigi said nervously. “I’m really glad Goob liked the stickers. And you’re both right… I shouldn’t take other people’s gifts just to regift and impress others. I’m sorry.”

“At least you learned your lesson.” Rodger said. “And that improvement won’t appear overnight. Just start small, like we talked about.”

“Right.” Flutter then pulled Gigi away to play a game. Toodles grinned at Rodger.

“Does this mean I’m your full-time junior detective?” Toodles asked cheerfully. Rodger chuckled.

“I think you need to help with a few more cases before you get there.”

[shadow1515]

Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 

[fujoshiribbon]

while back i drew something really good but its fetish art so i cant show it off. Unless

[vintagedebutante]

Gimme ur nasty Kennedy confessions in the inbox let’s GOOOO

[antiendovents]

Antiendovents didn’t “dox” the main. I did -Sk

Please for the love of god stop having beef with a MINOR(?). You are an ADULT. I am 22 and yet I know to not fight and be rude and say horrible shit to the future of our generations. Grow a pair. I did it to protect others. Stop harassing and stalking them, DudeTM.

I and the rest of us here will take their side over any bullshit whining that an ADULT has to cry over a minor not understanding.

Whatever decent acquaintance ship we had in the past on discord and whatnot is over. Just block me and any of my side blogs you come across I am not going to respond or give you attention outside of this.

yeah guys, I don't really mention it much, but like I'm still in school 😭 I made a post about exams a while ago,, lol. But yeah,, their 30 year old grown ass throwing a tantrum over a mistake we made really fucking pathetic tbh. Like how are you 30 years old and this upset over a simple mistake?? So much so as to insult me in a public post and be aggressive and also getting people to stalk my blog for them?? I assume? I don't really know how else their getting information on our posts

((also thanks for defending me 👍))

[fertilize-my-eggs]

I find it so funny how tomura looks like this to THIS.

HOW IS THIS THE SAME MAN?!?

Lord have mercy 😩😩😩 I'll still smash him any day, let's him breed my insides.

DOES ANYONE NOTICE HOW HE GOT PRETTY IN EACH EPISODE, I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T FIND HIM ATTRACTIVE BUT LOOK AT HIM, HE HAD WHOLE GLOW UP.

noobie low level villain to final boss technically but still, I miss him so much 😭😭

[musenextdoor]

My celebrity crush just popped out w a whole gf im screaming and crying and throwing up

[ihavemanyhusbands]

(Un)holy

Raven-haired angel, lover and executioner both, darkening your doorstep with his long shadow. When you looked up, his halo was so bright it obscured his face, except for his eyes; The flint that sparked a fire inside of you.

The echo of church bells rang in the cathedral of your mind and you trembled in anticipation. Was it really time for service? Communion? Sacrifice?

Of course, he’d come to get you. He loved you, after all. Oh, how he loved you! You could see it plain as day in his stare, ardent and ravenous.

His fingers dug into your soft wool, scratching behind your ears. Your eyes were wide and docile as a doe’s, glazed over with a devotion reserved solely for divinity. How prettily your cheeks flushed, too, at his nearness.

The thin rope he’d placed upon your throat tugged you forward, the other end held in his fist. This way, my sweet, follow my voice.

Oh, his voice…. Like a river of honey pouring forth from that bewitching smile. Sharp and luminous as a crescent moon, or a scythe glinting beneath it. He could never lead you astray.

He was a wolf-headed shepherd and you willingly lay yourself on a silver platter in front of him. You, who were his only sustenance, the one he constantly craved. The one he would devour time and time again.

His most sacred lamb, indeed.

His love was best felt when he tore you asunder, lapping you up like the most delectable ambrosia. You adored him all the while, praying for his claws and his fangs as they sank into your pliant flesh.

You said his name deliriously, pearlescent tears gathered at your lashes, over and over again — John, oh, John…

You, his first and only supplicant, the most faithful of subjects. So willing, so earnest. He truly did love you, in his way. After all, you got him closer to understanding godliness.

[lew-na-lapinn]

brats need fingers in their mouth to shut them up every now and then