#not always the best tool for the job

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

My wife and I take turns living the One Who Is Good With Tools stereotype.

Yesterday was my turn when I grabbed four clamps at the hardware store while she questioned when on earth were we going to need SO MANY clamps. (We ended up needing precisely four clamps for the repair we were buying the clamps for.)

Last Monday was her turn when she packed up both the cordless drill, making sure it was charged, and the Ikea toolbox, just in case, to pick up our free new desk table. (We ended up needing the screwdriver.)

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis truly has a near terminal case of burned out golden child syndrome. caterina fucked both of these kids over so incredibly bad with the dynamic she enforced there, with illario being labled the perpetual fuckup kid where lucanis 'could do no (would never be allowed to do) wrong'. the way he admits in the first coffee date scene that the only thing that happened when he showed he could carry the weight of expectation was that more weight was added makes me so sad. you can hear it in caterina's voice in his intro mission that she's incredibly proud of him, but this is clearly a leandra and hawke situation where that pride never translates into relief or resolution or unconditional warmth or understanding or anything that really helps.

[ookaookaooka]

i LOVE first contact with aliens stories, seriously it’s one of my favorite tropes, but authors writing it really need to understand that there’s no writing it without engaging with the colonial history behind it whether you intend to or not, and if your story is about humans settling on another planet you’re gonna look stupid if you don’t

[todayisafridaynight]

The bookmark tag was #holder until i think of a tag for these asks but To Be Real even I forgot what it was...

BUT YEAH thanks so much for reading and I'm glad it's :] Intelligible At Least :] obviously I would be up for reading anything that came to mind after putting you and your followers through All That but understandable... A lot of people I've shown the checklist items or pointed out specific behaviors to have actually said similar [i.e. I'm In This Picture And I Don't Like It], so I totally get what you mean, too!

I think a lot of my picks wound up being generalized trauma responses/aftereffects of abuse or neglect [hence I meandered off into just talking about Jo's father half the time], so I guess it's to be expected a lot of them don't read as being CSA-specific or are broadly relatable; it's not like he's supposed to be read that way, after all. I just wasn't able to zero in on many of the more specific ones because I've Never Seen Jo In This Situation Chief I Don't Know What He Thinks About His Name Or His Body Or Mirrors Or Sex Or Affection I Don't Know How Well Or Poorly He Sleeps [Presumably Poorly Though He Has The Second-Reddest Eyes In The Whole Game]

I don't really think I'll have anything to add though unless Infinite Wealth goes off the rails or I actually continue reading the book... so that will have to do... I originally was just riffing on RGGJo's attachment issues, self-destructiveness, and specific entwinement of sexuality/aggression/romance, and his portrayal in my fic lined up pretty closely, so I thought it'd be interesting to apply the same lens to Y7Jo...

But Yeah x2 thank you for the opportunity to talk about it and I'm Glad It's Intelligible At Least x2

THANK YOU i really should change that tag to something better... <- i will immediately forget to do so like a jackass

BUT YA OF COURSE OF COURSE i was truthful when i said it was a real good read (but once again. i have -5 speech skills so i can't properly word SHIT) and was a thorough examination of jo's trauma and how it manifests in him and how it's exhibited through his actions. ALWAYS a big fan of that :)

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[skyrigel]

Brother's best friend! Simon who's always so smitten and sweet to you. Bringing along sweets and snacks whenever he comes over.

Brother's best friend! Simon who casually tucks your hair back, asking you bout' your day and listening and doting on every word.

Brother's best friend! Simon who takes you for a ride on his motorcycle, buying you ribbons and scarfs.

Brother's best friend! Simon who would fight with your brother if has to, to make your wishes come true.

Brother's best friend! Simon who agrees with you when you say, you can date whoever you want until it's Joe from class B, and he's beaten to pulp the very next day.

Brother's best friend! Simon whom you share your first smoke with, coughing and laughing as he bumps your nose.

Brother's best friend! Simon who expects a kiss on cheek too, after you say bye to your brother and absolutely goes pink when you place a chaste wet kiss on his face.

Brother's best friend! Simon who takes you on prom along so you don't feel left out, kissing you sweetly so you know how it feels.

Brother's best friend! Simon who gives you a summer job in his garage, watching you grow into a bigger person.

Brother's best friend! Simon who likes watching you in your summer dress hopping around and helping him like a good girl when he asks for some tool.

Brother's best friend! Simon who spreads your leg on his desk, lowering his mouth while your eyes connect with his, melting into a puddle when his tongue swipes along your clit, humming with your sweet juices.

Brother's best friend! Simon who has your legs in his lap as your brother and his fiance go on about their first meet while your friends are laughing.

Brother's best friend! Simon who goes crimson when you catch the flower bouquet your sister in law tossed, kissing your forehead so proudly.

Brother's best friend! Simon buying you a car when you graduate, watching you proudly when you drive up to your new shared home, going absolutely crazy when the wall is decorated with a huge poster, WILL YOU MARRY ME MRS.RILEY !

Brother's best friend! Simon hugging you as you melt in his big arms, “That's not a question baby !” you half laughed and half sobbed, “I am gonna fire you if you say no.” he kissed your forehead delicately.

Brother's best friend! Simon who marries you with the twilight in his eyes, the same when you were sixteen, kissing you sweetly as fireworks go ablaze in your head.

Grim Reaper!Simon

Masterlist

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[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

[singing-telegram]

Anyone looking to make a proper Scooby-Doo adaptation please remember:

Fred is the charismatic face of the group and the strategizer. Later adaptations made him a massive himbo who chugs respect for women juice and those have become necessary parts of his character.

Shaggy is cowardly but also incredibly resourceful; let us not forget his skill at ventriloquism. Make Shaggy the skill monkey, who every episode mentions some weird skill he has that's previously unmentioned; that'd be an amazing running gag. Also, bring back the dry humor Casey Kasem injected into the og character.

Scooby is Shaggy's best friend, the other half to his two-man comedy routine. Independently of Shaggy, Scooby is also prone to be a bit mischievous and just kind of a little scamp. Play up both of those things.

Velma is the smart nerdy one, who also had a really dry sense of humor. I don't know why she was turned into the "I'm surrounded by idiots" character because, while as I stated, she always had a dry sense of humor, she was never mean to her friends and never talked down to them, or anyone else. Bring back the chipper Velma from like Witch's Ghost or Zombie Island. Let Velma be a little cutie pie. Also keep her as a lebian

Daphne was... originally really just "The Girly One" but later adaptations have fleshed her out, like making her essentially the muscle of the group, which is just amazing and should continue. She's also been cast as the oddly resourceful one. Shaggy is the skill monkey, Daphne is the one who has a tool for literally any job. Human Swiss Army Knife, which again, would be an amazing running gag.

Have Shaggy and Daphne bounce off-the-wall ideas for a plan together, Fred steps in to ground them, while still using their ideas, and incorporating Velma's theories about the case.

Make references to Flim Flam and Hot Dog Water

A Scooby-Doo adaptation should not be difficult, and must be done with love.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

A few quick reminders: 

If you are a human being, then yes, politics do affect you personally. Laws and policies impact your daily life in ways you might not even realize, from health care and education to jobs and the environment. Voting is your chance to shape the world you live in day to day.

You most likely won't find a "perfect" candidate on the ballot. It’s rare, if not impossible, to agree with a candidate 100%. Vote for the one who best represents your priorities in general.

Avoid throwing away your vote. Writing in someone who isn’t running (like a celebrity or fictional character) doesn’t actually send a message to candidates. It just makes it harder for your voice to be heard. Use your vote for someone who’s truly in the race.

The "big revolution" that fixes everything might be a nice fantasy, but change happens through small steps. Voting won’t solve everything right away, but it’s a powerful tool for moving the needle in the right direction. Progress, even if gradual, adds up over time. Fantasies are just.. well, fantasies.

Many places offer early voting or absentee ballots. If you can’t make it on election day, look into these options to ensure your vote gets counted. 

If people tell you you can’t vote for whatever reason, double-check that info. Do your own research. Sometimes people have bad intentions or are simply misinformed. 

Voting is private. Your parents, partner, caretakers etc. may be able to check IF you vote but no one needs to know WHO you vote for if you don’t feel safe or comfortable with them knowing. Your ballot will be secret and protected. You have a right to keep the secret. Always remember: Lying for safety is okay. 

Last but not least: You know who will vote? Nazis. Fascists. People who hate queer people, women, immigrants and people of color. People who want to take away your rights, even people who want to see you in jail or dead. They will absolutely go out and vote for their preferred candidate, even if you stay home and refuse to vote. You throwing away your voice as a “protest” will only make theirs louder.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[rainrot4me]

Just Relax

Summary: You’re stressed. Jack knows how to fix that.

Characters: Eyeless Jack x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: First time, stress relief, using orgasms as a way to relieve stress, teaching, inexperience, virgin, cunnilingus, blowjob, bad blowjob, grinding, tip fucking, vaginal, kinda creampie, Jack's a gentle giant, service top, claws, mentions of blood, mentions of gunshots, bullet wounds (not smut related), injury

Words: 5.8k

Being the only other medically intelligent resident in the mansion intensified your job.

Slender partnered you with Jack, the tall brooding organ-eating demon that spent most of his time either in his medical lab in the basement or face-deep in someone’s intestines. It was charming, really. 

Your jobs were to patch up the proxies and keep them running, their missions being insanely more dangerous than the average creep and constantly landing them on Jack’s workbench. You were tasked with helping the demon: holding wounds closed, getting his supplies, or even rounding some innocent bystander up for his dinner. You were always on the move, always completing some requests. And it was seriously taking a toll. 

You were becoming restless, your body always aching and your mind never quiet from the constant stress you faced. You tried to hide it, but as the bags under your eyes grew from the lack of good sleep, it became harder to put on a good face. Especially around the demon who ordered your every move. 

So when Jack occasionally got restless and left you in his lab to go hunt, you usually would spend the time tidying up or catching a quick nap. But when a bloodied Tim stumbled down the basement steps and through the door, heaving from exhaustion, you panicked. 

The tall brunette stumbled into your arms, coughing loudly as you tugged him to the medical table and laid him down, his jacket dark with blood and dirt. He had been shot, twice in the gut, it looked like. You grit your teeth, tugging his jacket and shirt off as you carefully watch his face, his eyes already beginning to flutter shut. Shit. Where the hell was Jack?! It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do, it was just that Jack was more familiar with these things. You were just an assistant. But you had no choice, curse the demon and his greedy tongue. 

You pulled the medical tray towards you, the metal pan littered with different tools you were familiar with. You grabbed a cloth, dousing it with sterile alcohol and wiping Tim’s gut, forcing his chest down as he hissed against the sting. You had to be quick, there was no telling how long the poor guy was hauling himself here and bleeding out quickly. After cleaning his skin, more blood gushed, but you were finally able to tell where the entrance holes were. “Just hold on.” You grit, grabbing the long tweezers from the tray and focusing, pressing your arm against Tim’s chest as you slowly sink the cold prongs into the wound. The large man cried out, fists clenching the soft padding of the table as you prodded for the bullet, pushing deeper until you felt an abnormality lodged deep into his skin. You were way too shaky for this, your unsteady hands likely to tear his wound further as you pinched the small bullet and unlodged it from his gut. You needed Jack, now.

And like a god-sent, you heard loud boots stomping down the wooden stairs, a tall figure emerging through the open door as you dropped the bloody bullet onto the tray. “[Y/N]? What’s all this blood- oh shit.” Jack’s monotone voice muffled behind his mask, his head instantly snapping to you as you turned to him, panicked and hands covered in Tim’s blood. 

The demon was quick, grabbing the tweezers from your hand and pressing over the bleeding man, doing a much better job of retrieving the second bullet as you slid to his side, offering your help as always. He popped the tiny metal onto the tray, quickly grabbing disinfectant and eyeing you as he returned to the bloody scene, trying his best not to apologize right now.

-

Before you knew it Tim was back upstairs asleep in his bed, his torso wrapped in clean bandages and veins full of liquid painkillers. The procedure went by quickly after Jack arrived, making quick work of getting the man cleaned up after his latest mission. You sat at Jack’s desk, face hidden in your hands as you finally caught your breath, fingers still stained with his blood. The demon leaned awkwardly against the edge of the table, mask long discarded on the now clean table now that you were in the privacy of each other. Jack had stopped using his mask around you long ago when he realized you would be together every day, pushing past his instincts and accepting your presence wholeheartedly. He appreciated the help more than you knew. 

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you, palms rubbing your tired eyes as you looked up, but not at him. “It’s fine.” You wanted to accept his apology, but your angry sleep-deprived brain wouldn’t let you, a snarky response being all that you could offer. Jack could hear your irritation, cringing to himself as crossed his arms, looking down to the floor. “Like, seriously. That was completely me. I sho-” 

“I said it’s fine, Jack.” You cut him off, huffing as you pushed off the desk and began picking up random trash around the lab. You refused to look at him as you tried to occupy yourself, begging your angry tongue not to attack him further. But Jack, being himself, pushed further, begging for your forgiveness. “But it’s not. I mean, how can I make it up to you?” He pushed, circling in front of you and reaching for your shoulders, the demon easily towering over you as you strained your neck to look up at him. “You can’t, okay?” You snarled, pushing off of him and tossing random syringe packets into the trash, slipping away from him. You were fuming, unreasonably, but you couldn’t help it as you breathed quickly, face growing hot. You were becoming overstimulated, your hair pressing too close against your neck, this room suddenly becoming way too cramped, and your head just hurting, begging for you to just lay down. 

Jack crossed his arms, sitting back against the medical table as he watched you stomp around, his knee tapping worriedly. “But-” Just hearing his voice was beginning to make you mad, his need to apologize becoming so whiney in your mind. “Listen, Jack. I don’t fuckin’ need your sorry, okay? What I need is to be left alone. I’m stressed out of my mind, alright?” You snapped, shoulders tense and hands flinging with every word. Jack just watched quietly, his dark sockets staring blankly at your red face. He knew you were stressed, how could he not? But he also knew this was the result of days of suppressing that stress, refusing to acknowledge just how overwhelmed you were until you got to this point, your words moving faster than your mind could stop. He didn’t take it to heart, it was all emotional and he knew that. But what he did do was push further, despite your anger. 

“Then why don’t you rest? Like, take the day off or just take a minute. I don’t know, have a shot or something.” You leaned back against Jack’s desk, rubbing your face as you groaned, your head pounding. “You don’t think I’ve tried? Can’t catch a wink of sleep because my mind won’t just stop. I’ve been on a high drive all week.” You whined, tears pricking your eyes as the demon watched you, brows knitting as you wiped your eyelids. He thought quietly, sockets studying you annoyingly as you wiped your hair from your face, irritation growing when he wouldn’t look away.

“Have you tried masturbating?” For a second, you really couldn’t tell if your ears were working right, convinced you were still in shock as you glared at him. What the fuck kind of question was that? Thinking he was joking, you laughed dryly, rolling your eyes. “Very funny, Jack.” But he wasn’t laughing, his face dead serious as he arched a brow expectantly. That’s when your face grew hot, cheeks growing a darker tint until you forced yourself to look away, avoiding his piercing gaze. You screwed your eyes shut, embarrassed. You hadn’t, but you felt like he had already come to that conclusion as he pushed off of the table, stepping closer to you and making your breath hitch. He tilted his head, arms crossed tightly as he strained the answer out of you.

“No, okay? I don’t have time for that shit. And besides, I wouldn’t even know how.” Such trivial things had never crossed your list of wants when you were working under Slender. You had more important things to worry about like completing missions or saving someone’s life. Touching yourself hadn’t really crossed your mind. 

Jack scoffed, his hands uncurling to rest against his hips. “What? You mean like, you don’t know how to jerk off?” It was embarrassing when the demon said it out loud, your eyes screwing shut and cheeks hot before him. But he only stepped closer, his tall stature suffocating you. You shook your head, refusing to look up. “Why would I need to? I’m not some dog in heat.” 

That one struck harder than you meant for it to. You were all too familiar with Jack’s seasonal heat cycles, his demon instincts overriding his thoughts a couple of times a year and driving him to seclusion for a week or so. Those were the times you hated the most when he wasn’t around, wasn’t there to guide you during a procedure or appreciate your efforts. So when you looked up at him, fearful that he was going to go off on you for your careless insult, you were surprised to see his face so calm. 

“Yeah, you need to jerk off.” He smiled, a little teasing in his voice as you scowled. “Listen, orgasms are good for relieving stress. So, if you’re going to keep working, you either need to learn how, or let me help you.” His words felt like a joke, but his face was so sincere you had to readjust, your stomach tightening with butterflies. He couldn’t be serious, help you? 

But as his gray-blue claws rested on his hips, head tilted to stare at you below him, you couldn’t help but squirm. He was looming closer, his jagged smile teasing but earnest as your face became hot. This was embarrassing, letting practically your boss coerce you into letting him get you off. You wanted to say no, to fight him off and persevere by yourself. But when the flutters in your stomach turned to throbbing between your thighs, you groaned, giving up. 

“Fine. But… I don’t know what I’m doing. Like, I’ve never done anything like this before.” You mumbled, pushing off the wall and standing inches from him, straining your neck to look at his toothy grin. “It’s okay, pet. I’ll be gentle.” 

Pressing his claw behind your back, he guided you to the medical table, pushing you to the end. You panicked slightly when he scooped under your armpits and picked you up easily, setting you on the edge so you were level with his chest. You wanted to stop, the sudden closeness making you overwhelmed, but when his claws rested on your hips, you tensed. “Relax.” He cooed, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. You were speechless.

Your friendship with Jack was close, and your mutual understanding of how difficult both of your lives were plus the forced proximity made it easier to become quick friends. But as his warm lips pressed down your jaw to your neck so comfortably, you questioned everything you thought you knew about the two of you. He was eager, but soft, nipping against your skin as you tilted your neck, gasping softly as goosebumps ran over you. He was nudged between your legs, his short hair tickling your ear as his claws gripped you tight, holding your hips down. You couldn’t help but rest your hands on his shoulders, pushing back slightly as he moved to the other side of your neck, little red spots appearing everywhere he nipped with his fangs. 

“Jack…” He smiled, letting off your neck and pecking your cheek again, leaning back to look at you. Your face was hot, cheeks dark and flustered, but he thought you looked cute. You, however, had your thoughts running a mile a minute, confused but oh so excited as his claws slipped under the hem of your shirt. Jack could smell your arousal and it made him hungry, so rarely, for something other than guts. 

“Shh, lean back.” He hummed, slipping your shirt up and off your head and making you whine. Placing your hands behind you, you leaned back, stunned when he slipped his nails into your shorts and tugged them down your thighs, purring at the sight of your panties. You couldn’t believe he was actually serious, slipping the fabric off your ankles and tossing them to the ground, hands quick to reach your hips again. You placed your hands on his chest, holding him back from attacking your neck again. “You don't have to do this. I’ll be fine.” You grit, eyes nervously flickering between his face and his crotch pressed so closely between your legs. He just smiled, rubbing your waist. “This is for you. If you’re going to keep working, I need you in good condition. Just relax, pet.” He cooed, pushing back against your chest so you lay on the padded table, feet dangling. You were practically vibrating, unsure of exactly how to lay or move so you just gripped the leather awkwardly, watching the demon run his claws over your thighs.

“I need you to talk to me. Don’t let me overwhelm you.” He said sternly, hooking under your panties and tugging them down, your legs instinctively clutching together. “Too late.” You whined, pushing your hands down to cover yourself as you breathed heavily. Jack only chuckled, gripping your wrists gently and pulling them to your sides as he kneeled. You watched him nervously, his face now even with your closed thighs as he pushed your knees apart, checking your expressions. The demon knew you needed this, knew you were excited. He just needed to show you to let go. 

Spreading your legs despite your protests, Jack scooped his arms under your thighs, tugging you closer to him until he was inches from your pretty cunt. He breathed deep, sighing at the sweet scent of your excitement that coaxed him closer. His dark sockets never moved from your panicked face, sitting up slightly as you watched his lips smile, your eyes wide. This was insane. But before another desperate attempt to get him to rethink this left your lips, one of Jack’s dark, long tongues licked a thick stripe between your folds. Your back hits the leather immediately, a shaken gasp slipping through as you tense your thighs closer. Jack’s strong arms held them apart just fine, chuckling to himself as he watched your pupils blow wide. His tongue was so warm and slick, his thick saliva running through your lips and making you shudder. “Jack-”

He was already back again, long tongue running flat up your cunt and flicking on your clit. Your gasp was ragged, fingernails digging into the padding underneath as you craned your neck to see the demon. Jack was staring at you, the corners of his open mouth twitched up to a smile as he flicked the tip of his tongue against your already twitching clit. The feeling was so unfamiliar, so odd but so heavenly. He seemed so skilled, so eager to tug the little sounds out of you as he dove deeper, your bottom lip slipping into your teeth. 

“You alright, pet?” He mumbled, tongue quick to lick a thick stripe between your folds again, pressing a soft kiss against your soaked lips and giving you a moment to breathe. His claws were kneading the softness of your thighs, his thumb rubbing against your burning skin. Were you alright? Your breathing was heavy, quick and sharp as you stared at him, cheeks hot and flushed. You were nervous, your body unsure of what it was even feeling, but you knew you needed more. More of whatever his delicious tongue was offering. 

So, you nodded, leaning back but keeping your head up, watching nervously as he kissed your inner thighs softly. He smiled again, kissing his way back down to your folds and sliding his tongue out again, spreading the lips around his warm tongue. You groaned, biting your lip as you tried to contain the noises that dared to get louder, unaware that you could even make sure vulgar sounds. Jack was back to flicking against your clit again, eyelids heavy as he relished in the way you fought yourself. You were so desperate to contain what he knew you needed to let out, so he slid deeper, his long tongue slipping against your tight entrance. 

You panicked slightly, stomach clenching when you felt him press against your hole. He didn’t move, eyes trained as you gripped the leather, your face hot and heavy. Your thighs threatened to close, Jack’s claws digging slightly to keep them apart but not pulling farther. Your clit was throbbing, aching from the loss of the demon’s tongue but alive with the new sensation. He blinked at you, reading every expression as he dared further, the tip of his thick tongue slipping inside of your cunt. At the sensation, you didn’t expect your hips to jerk, legs tensing as he pressed inside, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Jack held you close, your tight entrance accepting the warm intrusion as you clenched and throbbed. It was so unfamiliar, but so warm, so filling. 

The further his tongue pressed in the faster your hands slid down to run through his brown hair. You gripped tight, tugging lightly as his lips pressed flush against your folds, his eyelids fluttering shut as he soaked in your warmth. You tasted heavenly, your arousal thick around his tongue as he breathed deep, letting you adjust. His tongue contoured easily through your cunt, rubbing gently against your gummy walls until your hips were squirming, begging for movement. You couldn’t even explain your movements, your body taking control and guiding itself against him. But when Jack’s thick tongue eventually curled against your warmth, lapping at your ecstasy, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Jack!” It came out ragged, like you were gasping for air that was being stolen with every curl. You tugged against the demon’s hair, his groans vibrating against your cunt and making you whine louder. It was too much. The unfamiliar stretch, the warmth, and even his noises were making you lose yourself. “Ahn- Oh my… Oh my God-” You moaned loudly, your resistance thinning with every pull of his long tongue. Your body twitched against him, your hips stuttering and grinding uncontrollably. His thumb still brushed against your thigh, that one constant keeping you aware the deeper he probed his tongue. Your back arched off the table, unsure if you were trying to pull away from him or angle him deeper, but he moved with you. 

The wet schlick of his tongue tugging in and out of your tight cunt made you groan, eyes screwed shut. You were so overwhelmed, but Jack was quick to read you, quick to adjust his speed the louder you got and bring you back down to a comfortable pace. Your lightheadedness appreciated that, your cunt slick and gummy as your arousal built, his lips becoming soaked. But Jack was in heaven. You tasted so good, so unexplainably good that he couldn’t dare remove his tongue. Your arousal was so sweet, but so sour in his mouth, his groans vibrating against your cunt. But it was pooling now, building heavily. He knew you were close, so he curled harder. 

“Jack, I- Ah! I think I’m gonna- gonna cum…” You mewled, his grinding down against his mouth as you tugged his hair closer, pressing his head deeper between your thighs. You were so sweaty, so hot and overwhelmed, but you couldn’t stop. There was a thick knot in your abdomen, your arousal peaking louder. Jack grumbled, nodding his head lazily as his eyelids tightened, focused on reaching deeper and tasting more of you until your body couldn’t resist anymore.

You came hard. It was such an unfamiliar sensation, your entire body wracking and tensing itself, a sharp moan crying from your lips. You leaned forward, Jack quick to adjust and pull your hips up so he could drink up every inch of you that spilt onto his tongue nestled so deeply inside of you. You were crying out, your fingers gripping his hair so tightly you were afraid you’d rip it from his scalp, but Jack could only moan. “Fuck- Fuck!” Your thighs were shaking, the demon’s large claws gripping tighter so he could relish in the feeling of his tongue being squeezed by your throbbing cunt as you rode out your orgasm. Your breathing was loud, your cheeks hot as you panted and strained against the tongue still nestled inside. You waited for him to slip out, but he never did, his tongue still prodding against your soaked walls. 

The demon’s eyelids eventually opened, his cheeks dark as he held you close, his lips swollen against your folds. You were so stunning, every inch of your burning skin glowing under your ecstasy as he slipped another tongue out of his mouth. It slid against your folds, just as thick and long as the first one but finding a new direction as you whined loudly. He wasn’t done with you yet, he couldn’t be, not when your body called to him so desperately. So his second tongue flicked against your clit the same way he did before, pitching the tiny cries and whines out of you he loved to hear. You were quick to react, your body still sensitive but desperate to chase that high again as you jerked against his tongue, hips stuttering even harder. Jack didn’t go too fast, pressing just hard enough and just quick enough to make your arousal build up, but watching you closely to make sure he didn’t press your sensitive body too far. He was careful, diligent with his every flick and curl. You were falling apart all over again.

“Jack, I’m- I can’t again-” You whined, legs heavy on his arms as he groaned, hugging them close to his head. The demon dug his knees into the ground, his cock pressing hard against his jeans but he ignored it, focused only on you and making you spill on his tongue again. “Yesh, yu can…” He lulled against your cunt, eyelids fluttering with every slick of his tongues. You wanted to resist, wanted to fight back against him, but he had pulled every ounce of your fight out. Jack was pushing you into some headspace you had never experienced before, your mind running on fumes and ecstasy. So you just let go. 

It was no time before you were cumming again, your orgasm much quicker than the last. Jack didn’t hold your thighs apart this time, he slid his claws up your waist, letting your plush legs wrap around his head and squeeze tightly as he groaned. The demon was slowly cracking under you, his mind running rampant as he drank down more of your sweet arousal, pushing off of his knees and to his feet until your hips were completely off the table. Your shoulder blades pressed back against the padding, your loud moans echoing in his ears and making him grin. Your cunt was wrecked, sopping wet and swollen as his tongues finally slid back, tugging out of your stretched cunt and back into his mouth. You watched through heavy lids, sweat sticking to your forehead and making you feel all hot and exhausted.

But Jack was lost in your body, eyelids heavy over his sockets as he leaned over you, pressing wet kisses against your stomach and back up to your chest. You were heaving, goosebumps rushing along your warm skin as the demon reached under your back and unclipped your bra, sliding it off of your shoulders. “So pretty…” He mumbled, kissing along the skin around your nipples until you were hissing. He peered up at your red face, grinning as he slid his arms around your waist and tugged you up to his chest, pressing you close to him. “Did so good, huh? Don’t you feel better?” He cooed, rubbing your back with his nails gently, leaving goosebumps against your skin. 

You did feel better. In fact, you didn’t feel anything but good. Your mind was blank, only the cool leather under your soaked cunt making you twitch, pleasure still coursing through your muscles. Jack was nestled between your legs, chin tucked over your head as he smiled, breathing in how amazing you smelt under him. But this close, you could feel his boner pressed tightly against your thigh, the large bulge making your eyes widen. The demon had done so much for you, it was only right you do something in return. 

You slid your hand down between you, cupping his bulge and rubbing gently until Jack was groaning. You tried to unbutton his jeans, but he was quick to lean back, gripping your wrists. “There’s no need for that. You need to rest.” He grinned, pressing your hands back to your sides gently. You pouted, straining against his arms to reach back again. “You helped me. Now let me help you… Even if it won’t be very good, I can still try.” You peered up at him, eyes wide and pleading as you felt some sense of need wash over you. Jack watched you carefully, contemplating with himself before sighing and rubbing his neck. “Okay. But do not push yourself.” He warned, letting go of your wrists and helping you slide off the table. 

The demon grunted when your hands found his bulge again, your heart pounding in your chest as you unbuttoned his jeans nervously. You had no fucking clue what you were doing, but you pushed his jeans back anyways, his boxers doing little to hide his girth. Jack’s claws rubbed your shoulder gently as you tugged his boxers down, gasping when his length bobbed out. He was… huge. You had never really seen a dick before, but you knew Jack was above average. The demon towered above you anyway, so it only made sense that his length would carry through. But even still, it was hard to focus as you watched the girth twitch in the air. Jack’s claw gripped your shoulder tighter now, watching you carefully.

Taking a deep breath, you kneeled, the demon taken back but quick to adjust. Your wide eyes flicked nervously between his face and the cock in front of you, hands nervously gripping his thighs as you pressed closer. Jack was nervous himself, studying your every move. Licking your lips, you pressed a kiss against the tip, shocked by how warm the flesh was as you lifted your hand to grip the base. Jack sighed, fisting his hands at his sides. You licked your lips again, the salty taste making you press further. You flattened your tongue, licking the head and slowly pumping the length in your hand, unsure if you were even doing this right. But when the demon groaned, pressing his hips closer, your stomach fluttered. 

There was no way you were fitting that in your mouth. So instead you tugged his cock to the side, pressing your lips against the side and sucking gently, jerking your hand slowly. You mouthed against the base, slipping licks up the length until Jack’s claws were resting against your head, rubbing gently and gritting his fangs. It wasn’t good and you knew that, but Jack didn’t care, all he knew was that you were trying and that was all that mattered to him. “Yeah, doing so good pet… Keep moving your hand just like that…” The demon cooed, running his thumb against your cheek. Your stomach fluttered wildly, your mouth sliding to the tip and sucking at his slit. You could taste the bitterness as you run your tongue against the head, Jack's arousal pushing through his gritted teeth. “Fuck…”

You dared, pushing your jaw open and flattening your tongue as you took the tip inside. You tried to press further, but your throat constricting as you gagged pushing you back, tears pricking your eyes. “Ah, careful-” Jack hissed, pressing his hands against your cheeks and pushing you back, but you resisted. You took the head in your mouth again, tongue swirling as your screwed your eyes shut, pumping your hand along the rest of the length. The demon groaned, hands still pressing against your cheeks gently as he begged you to take it slow. His skin was hot, cock twitching in your mouth every time you sucked. “Easy, pet… Yeah, just like that…” He groaned, brushing the hair off of your forehead and admiring your flushed face. You tried to press further, but you would gag and force yourself back, head bobbing as far as you could go before slobber pooled on your lips. You pumped his length quickly, making up for the rest of the length you couldn’t get. Jack was vibrating under your mouth, claws gripping desperately in your hair and brushing the tears from your eyes. “Shit, [Y/N]...” Your jaw was becoming sore, but you pushed, begging your throat to take him.

Until Jack gripped your chin, tugging it down and pulling you off of his tip. You whined, pushing back against his hands but he was already pushing you to the floor, back pressed down against the cold concrete of the basement. Jack kneeled between your legs, spreading them wide as he tugged off his shirt, tossing it to the side. “You did so good, pet… So good… Let me…” He hissed, pumping his cock in his claws and pushing your knees apart. Your eyes widened, heart pounding underneath his hungry gaze. “Jack- I don’t know if I-” But he was already rubbing your thigh gently, pulling your hips to meet his. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed, breathing heavily above you.

Jack pressed his cock down, angling your hips up against his thighs so your cunt laid flat in front of him, your hands gripping onto his knees. Your heart was pounding, eyes flicking nervously as you watched Jack press his cock down, sliding his wet length through your soaked folds and groaning loudly. His tip nudged against your clit, your hips jerking as you gasped, digging your nails into his jeans. “Feels good, yeah?” He purred, slowly grinding his cock down against your cunt, pressing his thumb against the length to keep himself between your folds. You were whining, pressing your hips up to grind against his length as he ground down into you. His tip nudged against your clit with every thrust, the nub twitching against the contact and making your abdomen tighten. “Just like that, Jack…” You whined, his left hand clamping around your hip and pulling you close to him, rubbing the skin gently. 

The demon didn’t thrust fast, more concerned with pushing those beautiful moans from your lips rather than speeding you through an orgasm. He thought the buildup was better anyway. “I can feel your cunt clenching underneath me…” He mewled, pushing his head down with his thumb to grind against your clit, making you hiss. Jack could smell you even heavier now. Two orgasms deep you smelled even more delicious, your heart thudding in his ears as you stared at him through heavy, tired eyes.

That was all it took for him. Jack pressed forward, hands gripping to your waist and leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. Future consequences be fucked, all he cared about was how amazing you looked and felt gripping onto his shoulders as he ground down into you. You were crying out, hips thrusting up to meet his cock, your folds sliding around his girth and clit throbbing so perfectly. “I want you to cum against me, pet… Let me feel you fall apart under me…” Jack smiled, pressing his lips against your cheek and licking the sweat off your face. You moaned deeply, nails digging into his shoulders as you arched your hips up, angling just right.

Jack moaned out, claws sharp against your skin as the tip of his cock slipped into your entrance, the tight hole stretching around him snugly. “Do it- Do it inside, then…” You gasped, pushing past the sting of your cunt stretching around his head and grinding your hips up, your orgasm nipping at your abdomen. Jack hissed, his hips thrusting down shallowly and popping his tip in and out, stretching you just right. “So perfect… Cum on my cock then, pet… I’ve got you…” He grinned, sweat dripping off his nose as he nestled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he fucked you open. 

The tip of his cock pushing just right against the entrance of your walls made you cry out, cunt clenching down tightly around his head before you were cumming around him. Jack growled, breathing deeply as he stalled his hips, his cock twitching against the sudden tightness, pushing him over. His warm seed spilt into your cunt, his cock pulsing as he leaned back and jerked himself off quickly, keeping the tip inside of you as he gripped your waist tight. “Such a good pet… Took me so well, yeah? Taking all my cum like a good girl…” He smiled, giving his hips one last jerk as pushing his tip deep into your entrance for good measure before pulling out. You huffed, cunt throbbing and pulsing as he pulled out, the demon’s warm seed quick to spill out of your entrance and down your cunt, seeping onto your skin. Jack couldn’t help but growl, pressing kisses along your hot skin as you caught your breath, clinging to the large demon. 

When you eventually settled down, eyes heavy and head light, Jack scooped you up, leaning your head against his shoulder. He carried you through the mansion quickly, lucking no prying eyes around to see him carry you to his room and shut the door quickly. He cleaned you up, careful to be gentle against your sensitive folds as he ran a warm rag against you, your tired body clinging to him. “Just relax…” Jack smiled, pulling his sheets back and laying you down, quick to slip beside you and press his warm body against your side, scooping you against him. Your head was so light, your body so heavy and tired against him that you couldn’t resist. You were quick asleep, light snores making Jack chuckle as he breathed your scent deep, pressing his nose against your head and letting his own eyes shut.

Needless to say, you had never slept so well.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

virgin sacrifice

a/n: you guys? hail satan.

summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal

word count: 1389

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It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl. 

Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day. 

It was the perfect summer. 

Was. 

Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen. 

You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles. 

When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime. 

“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure. 

A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads. 

Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were. 

“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”

“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you. 

“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.” 

Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop. 

“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter. 

“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile. 

“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”

“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well. 

“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”

“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.” 

“Y-your plan?”

“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”

“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”

“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”

“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.” 

Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning. 

“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat. 

“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud. 

“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.” 

“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him. 

“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”  

“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.

Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence. 

“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[britcision]

Another “Danny works at a mortuary” but because he’s also the strongest source of ectoplasm in insert-city-of-your-choice he is constantly surrounded by blob ghosts that no one else can see

And occasionally they try to “help” him at work, moving tools around, trying to clean the pumps, just generally being well intentioned poltergeists who are very much not actually helping

Once in a while a group of particularly naughty blobs will hop into one of the bodies Danny’s preparing (it takes 6-8 blobs to make it move properly, since they need at least the knees, waist, shoulders, and head controlled separately)

Danny then has to chase the corpse down and very carefully suction the blobs out and try and get it back before anyone notices…

But he’s not always at work

And the blobs keep chewing through the corners of his ghost wards like naughty little goats

One of the heroes gets wind of suspicious body snatching activity at the mortuary (and possibly magic cult stuff if we’re playing with Shazam) and begins to investigate

The only rule is if we’re doing Gotham and bats Danny is accidentally sent a Talon at LEAST once and Scooby Doo shenanigans ensue while he chases the Talon around and tries to slurp the blob ghosts out, while the blob ghosts chase Danny to see what he’s doing

He’s doing his very best to just do his job and be a good mortuary assistant, and all his work colleagues/classmates from the program make so many jokes about living a horror movie

Danny WISHES he was just living a horror movie, but his permanent soundtrack is just the Benny Hill theme and there’s nothing he can do about it

(Maybe he’s shooting for mortician to help baby ghosts stabilise in a city less saturated than Amity, maybe he’s passing on messages for the dead, maybe it’s a psychopomp thing but he’s really trying not to get busted by the Justice League for body snatching that he isn’t even doing)

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Engines and Affections

Pairing: Poly 141 x Assistant!reader

AU: Mechanic 141

Warning: fluff, the boys are a bit touchy

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy, it’s not poly until about half way through. I had to change a lot of this because it was similar to someone’s post that they posted so this is the newer one

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The air at Price’s Auto Garage buzzed with the sound of engines and tools, the usual symphony of work that set the place alive each day. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost moved around the garage with quiet confidence, focused on their tasks. They were the best at what they did, hands skilled and practiced, but the front desk? It was a mess. Calls went unanswered, invoices piled up, and the schedule was a puzzle no one had time to piece together. Price finally decided they needed help at the front.

The moment you walked in for the interview, they noticed.

You stood in the doorway, posture relaxed, radiating a confident smile as you scanned the space. Even though garages weren't exactly familiar territory, you weren’t about to let that show. Price gave you a welcoming nod, gesturing you inside, while Soap looked you over with a smirk, already leaning against a toolbox. Gaz offered a warm smile, while Ghost stood off to the side, arms crossed, as unreadable as ever.

Price glanced through your resume with a quick nod, but it was clear they’d made up their minds as soon as you walked in. A few questions later, and the job was yours.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the midst of the garage’s organized chaos. The phone rang constantly, schedules made only partial sense, and sometimes, the invoices looked like a language of their own. You tried your best to keep up, but this was a whole new world.

“Ah, I think… these are for you?” You handed Price a stack of papers one morning, hesitating when his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Love, these are last week’s invoices.” Price held back a chuckle, his eyes kind even as he gently corrected you. “I’ll show you how we sort ’em out, alright?”

His large hands guided yours through the stacks, showing you the little tricks they used to keep things organized. He took his time, explaining everything patiently, his voice low and calm as he brushed your shoulder every now and then. By the end of it, you had a better grasp—sort of.

Soap, however, took a different approach. Every few hours, he’d call you over, pulling you away from your desk to check out whatever project he was working on.

“Oi, lass, come look at this,” he called out one afternoon, grinning as he waved you over to the car he was working on.

You tried to seem interested, leaning in as he explained the engine in detail, even though the terms were lost on you. Your confidence started slipping as he talked about pistons, valves, and all kinds of parts you’d never heard of, but you nodded along, pretending to understand.

“See this part here?” He pointed, smirking as you leaned in closer, glancing from him to the engine.

“Oh, yeah! The… thing,” you managed, biting back a laugh when he rolled his eyes, grinning even wider.

“You’ve no idea what I’m on about, do ya?” He chuckled, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Don’t worry, lass, I’ll teach ya everything I know. Might just take a bit.”

Despite your confusion, his excitement was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along, even if you still didn’t understand a word.

Gaz was the one who always made sure you felt comfortable, sensing when you were a bit overwhelmed. Every morning, he’d bring you a coffee, setting it on your desk with a small smile.

“To keep you sharp,” he said with a wink, and you’d thank him, feeling a little less lost in the unfamiliar world of auto repairs.

One afternoon, as you struggled with the printer again, Gaz appeared by your side. He’d noticed your mounting frustration and stepped in without a word, reaching over to press a few buttons with expert ease.

“Here, let me show you.” His hand rested on yours as he guided you through the steps, his voice soft and patient. You felt his presence close beside you, his attention entirely on helping you, and your nerves calmed as you finally figured out the tricky machine.

“You’re getting it,” he said with an approving nod, his fingers brushing yours for a moment longer before he stepped back, a quiet sense of pride in his smile.

Ghost, meanwhile, kept his distance—until you made a mistake too big for him to ignore. One evening, you’d accidentally given the wrong keys to a customer, causing a brief mix-up in the garage. Ghost’s expression was steely as he came over to you, clearly unimpressed.

“These keys belong to the truck in the back,” he said, his tone gruff but calm as he held them out to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just—” You stammered, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze.

He took a slow breath, running a hand over his face before meeting your eyes again. “Just double-check before you hand ’em out next time, alright?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, but Ghost’s expression softened almost imperceptibly when he noticed your nervousness. Later, he quietly came over, placing the keys in their correct spots while you watched, making sure you’d gotten it right.

“Just remember,” he said, his voice low, “no rush. Take your time.” And with a small nod, he returned to his work, his rare show of patience lingering with you.

---

One rainy evening, as you prepared to leave, you stood by the door, staring at the downpour. You’d forgotten your jacket, and with the way the rain was coming down, you’d be soaked in minutes.

Ghost was passing by, his eyes flicking between you and the rain outside. He let out a sigh, already pulling out his keys. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Surprised, you followed him to his truck, slipping into the passenger seat as he climbed in. The ride was quiet but comfortable, the steady rhythm of the rain filling the silence. His presence was somehow reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing, even sneaking a few glances at him as he drove.

“Thanks for this,” you murmured as he pulled up to your place, his gaze still fixed forward.

He gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just get yourself a jacket next time.” But the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and you knew he didn’t mind.

After that night, you’d started to find your rhythm in the garage. The guys were quick to help when you needed it, and slowly, you felt like part of the team. The way they each looked out for you in their own way brought you a quiet sense of belonging that you hadn’t expected, making the unfamiliar chaos of the garage feel like somewhere you could finally call home.

——

Over the next few months, the garage became more than just a workplace—it became a second home. The guys were always there, whether to lend a hand, share a laugh, or tease you about some new mistake. You noticed how each of them had their own way of making sure you were taken care of. And somewhere along the way, your small, shared moments with each of them started to feel… different.

Price became more attentive, stopping by your desk to chat with you about your day, his warm gaze lingering a moment too long. Soap’s teasing got softer, almost affectionate, his laughs filled with genuine happiness when he saw you smile. Gaz made a habit of bringing you coffee every morning, but now he’d stay a little longer, brushing your hand as he passed the cup, his gaze lingering on your lips. Even Ghost, usually distant, had become gentler, staying around the garage a little longer just to make sure you got home safe.

The four men started to notice each other’s shifts in behavior too. What was once harmless camaraderie and teamwork started to feel like an unspoken rivalry, each of them vying for more of your attention. Eventually, it reached a tipping point, and one late night at the garage, they decided to address it head-on.

“Alright, lads,” Price began, crossing his arms as he looked at the others. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Soap scoffed, trying to brush it off. “You mean the way you get all soft whenever she’s around?” he said, though there was no real bite to his tone.

Gaz chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. “We all know it’s not just Price. Let’s be honest with ourselves here.”

Ghost, silent as ever, watched the others, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Guess we’ve all got feelings for her. Question is, what’re we gonna do about it?”

They sat in silence for a moment, each processing the quiet admission that their feelings ran deeper than simple friendship. Price broke the silence, his voice firm yet understanding.

“We’re not just co-workers; we’re a team,” he said. “So, if we’re all on the same page about her, then maybe it’s time we tell her.”

A few days later, the four of them gathered the courage to bring up the subject with you. It was the end of a long workday, and you were about to head home when Price called you over, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

As you walked into the main garage, the four of them stood there, exchanging glances as if silently confirming that this was the right moment. You felt your heart race, sensing that whatever was about to happen was important.

Price cleared his throat, his usual steady demeanor softening as he looked at you. “We, uh… have something we need to talk to you about. All of us.”

Confused, you looked between them, giving a small nod. “Okay, I’m listening.”

They each took turns explaining, their words stumbling a little at first but then gaining confidence as they shared their feelings. Price told you how much he admired your kindness and resilience, how you made the garage feel like home. Soap shared how much he loved making you laugh, how your presence was the highlight of his day. Gaz spoke of his protective instincts, how he felt compelled to make you happy. Even Ghost, usually guarded, admitted in his own quiet way that he’d come to care about you deeply.

It was overwhelming but touching, hearing each of them express feelings that you hadn’t dared to think might be mutual. Finally, Price looked at you, his eyes searching yours with a question that didn’t need words.

“Would you be open to… to something with all of us?” he asked gently.

It took a moment for you to process what they were asking, but as you looked at each of them, you realized that the idea didn’t scare you—in fact, it felt right.

“I… I would be,” you admitted, smiling as their tense expressions melted into ones of relief and happiness.

From that point on, your relationships with them grew deeper and more intimate. You shared quiet mornings with Gaz, who’d bring you coffee and pull you close, his arm around you as you eased into the day together. Soap’s playful teasing turned more flirtatious, his laughter warm as he’d brush your hair back, stealing little kisses when no one was looking. Price had a way of grounding you, his strong arms always there to wrap around you at the end of a long day, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your forehead that made you feel safe. And Ghost, though still reserved, became more open, offering a gentle touch here and there, his presence comforting in a way that words couldn’t quite describe.

One evening, after closing up shop, you found yourself nestled between them on the worn leather couch in the break room. Gaz leaned close, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, while Soap’s arm draped across your shoulders, pulling you close as he whispered jokes in your ear, his voice warm and soft. Price sat at your side, his hand resting on your knee, thumb drawing small circles as he met your gaze with a soft smile, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding.

And Ghost, ever the silent observer, brushed a gentle hand over your shoulder, his fingers lingering at your neck. You felt their affection surrounding you, each of them bringing their own unique warmth and comfort, and you knew that this—this closeness, this shared connection—was something rare, something to be cherished.

Over time, your moments together grew more intimate. The nights you spent with them were full of whispered words and gentle touches, each one of them showing their love in their own way. Soap’s playful nature softened, his teasing replaced with gentle affection as he held you close, his laughter quiet as he stroked your hair. Gaz would pull you into his lap, his hands warm against your back as he kissed you deeply, his eyes filled with warmth as he traced his thumb over your cheek. Price, always steady, would hold you close, his presence reassuring as he kissed you with a softness that made you feel cherished, his voice low as he murmured words of love.

And Ghost, though still quieter than the others, would sit beside you, his fingers brushing over yours, his touch reverent as he watched you with a gaze that spoke volumes. When he held you, it was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him.

In these shared moments, you found a kind of love and connection that you’d never known. Together, you formed a bond stronger than any you’d ever imagined, a family bound by love and trust. And in their arms, surrounded by their warmth, you knew you’d found a home, one where you were loved wholly and completely by each of them.

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, like and Reblog💜 -Midnight’s Cafe

[dovveri]

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

[tobyfier]

Yandere Francis, headcannons of how we met into him gaining feelings that slowly turn into obsession and him kidnapping us etc etc.

Say it again.

;Gender neutral reader

Warning: obsession,toxic relationship,Stockholm syndrome,manipulation,swearing

Additional information: Reader is a baker

A/n: I’m not much experience with yandere type of stuffs, but I’m more welcome to try! Also this is actually my first request, and I hope I made it to your liking!

I’d say he did hear from the other tenants that there was gonna be a new person in the apartment but he didn’t really try and meet the person, to focus on his job and the doppelgänger situation

That is until of course, you went and greeted him yourself by knocking on his door and giving him a bag of cookies before bidding goodbye

The cookies were delicious btw, he couldn’t stop eating them

And one day as an act of gratitude for giving him the cookie, he came by at your apartment and gave you a couple of bottle milk

Supposedly he was just gonna thank you and give the tray of bottle of milks, but you insisted on letting him inside and get to know each other for a bit

That’s when he learns you were actually a baker and that you own a bakery

Huh..no wonder

You guys were on friends terms now

You always buy milk from him saying, the consistency of the milk was great

He gives milk and you give cookies, a win/win

The feelings started to appear after a month or so

It started off small he feels lighter and energized whenever you’re around, and he would get excited just by seeing your face

He started talking to you more, often times he would write letters to you whenever he’s out in the city for a few days

Day by day his feelings started to grow stronger and stronger, to the point he can’t go a day without even seeing your face once

But when he realized you liked him back, he had to double check if he heard you right

He made you say it again and again before he hugged you and thank the god’s above

You two started to live with each other after that

It was peaceful and comforting

Morning kisses is a must.

He comes home later than you, and he’s always happy to receive your kisses afterwards

But the peace..didn’t last long

He started to grow more and more possessive

It started off small..you didn’t mind it at all

Until he started to isolate you from others

You confronted him of course, but he brushed it off saying it was for the best

You didn’t say anything about it, thinking it was him being protective considering the doppelgänger situation

But when he asked you to close your bakery saying it was for the best

That’s when the argument started.

You defended yourself, telling him you can’t close the bakery because of his overprotective tendencies

It was your passion and it was your dream to open up a bakery

Closing it down meant all the efforts you had done to achieve this goes to waste.

The bastard told you that you can still bake in the apartment.

You called him crazy and tried to leave but he had an iron grip on your wrist and pulled you into a bedroom

Then locked it, saying this is for the best

You tried knocking the door down

you tried finding some tools that can help, a fail..

Even the windows were ironed shut

Heck even the windows are ironed shut.

The bastard planned all of this from the start and you didn’t even notice it.

The last few days you gave him the silent treatment

Only ever opened the door to give you food or water

If you didn’t eat he will force feed you.

He tried reasoning with you

That this is all for the best and for your safety

And that you don’t need anyone else but him.

Slowly he started to be more affectionate with you

Oh how you crave those touches..

It has been so long since you received affection like these

Slowly his words got to your mind

Maybe he was right

I mean he provides food,water,shelter,heck he even bought tools so you can bake in the apartment

And all you have to do was accept the situation and that you only needed him.

And no one else.