#sometimes more active and sometimes active enough to try (fucked it up though)

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

Listen i was definitely being a little humorous up there and was also thinking of throwing in a "try picking up a published book and get an idea for how often they use just the names and pronouns even with two or more people with the same pronouns," but what the hell, i can just show you. Here's a page each from two edited and published books i had nearby with two people using the same pronouns interacting on the page. Text transcribed in the alt text.

Look that second one is a good example because there is some referring to of the doctor as "the doctor" even though there's his name there too but there's a difference! Both because of the emotional distance between the POV character and the doctor, compared to the guy he's with in the second part (who he's fucking, unlike the doctor), but also the doctor's identity as a doctor is extremely directly relevant to the scene because they are discussing how a guy they know is doing after a nasty accident. The age differences between any of these people (and there's a big one, since some of them are vampires), their physical traits, etc aren't used to refer to them because you don't need to and that would distract everyone.

And at no point in the first one are either of these women referred to by their physical traits (and there's a very easy difference since one is a redhead and one is a brunette), their age difference (one is notably younger), or even their different statuses in their team other than Phoebe bringing it up in dialogue (Grace being the captain of their soccer team). They aren't brought up both because Grace isn't acting in her capacity as the captain while they're talking about her injury and flirting, nor are their physical traits or age directly relevant to the scene beyond being attracted to each other, and there's intimacy here between them (because they fucked and will fuck again). If Phoebe wasn't as intimately close to Grace, and there was a scene where Grace was directy addressing the locker room or even just Phoebe while acting in her capacity as captain, THEN it would make sense for there to be something like, "The captain scowled at Phoebe," or whatever, like with the doctor thing.

Look I'm not saying never ever do it, you can do it sometimes, the bisexual vampire hockey one definitely did use "the other man" at one point, I saw it when I was looking for a page that was all people using the same pronouns but was also SFW/didn't have anything too weird and specific to the book (though the fact that it was used sparingly enough that it didn't stand out to me until i was actively looking says a lot I think). in fact you can do anything you want forever and you can ignore me and everyone else who makes posts about this and people will still rightfully leave you nice reviews thanking you for your work that you're sharing with us for free. Thank you, that is very nice of you! For real! And I'm not claiming these books are the height of literature, because they're definitely not. I am not reading these books because they're the height of literature. But you really really really can use names or pronouns way more than you are. I promise. It is not boring, it's good. Please. Please. please no more pop quizzes in fan fiction please please

okay thank you for your time i love you bye

Please just use characters' names and pronouns please please please you don't have to say "the mage" "the older man" "the taller" please you DON'T you don't you don't just say their name or pronoun i KNOW it feels boring and repetitive to you who's writing it but it is an entirely different thing to read vs write something. You are making the reader have to interrupt their thought process to remember which character is older or taller or has a different eye color or whatever and this knowledge is not automatic the same way the NAME is. The name fades into the background, it isn't anything. I appreciate that you're trying and you're writing and you are giving me something beautiful to read i love that i love that you are doing that I've done writing too i know how hard it is just please please understand that you are making it harder for people to read and enjoy your work when you are including what is essentially a pop quiz in your work about what traits a character has. I'm sorry but you are giving me a pop quiz. You are. I'm sorry. Please i know it's hard i know PLEASE. thank you i love you

[whatpunkin]

.

[simp4konig]

nggghmhh... been thinking about Nikto getting into a fight and Reader fussing over him and cleaning up the blood on his knuckles and bandaging his hand as he watches them with hearts in his eyes... 🥺💞

It wasn't that nasty of an injury, really. Really.

You were simply fussing over him too much, as per usual.

His knuckles were split after punching someone in the face perhaps a tad too hard. Just a little. Just hard enough to knock out a few molars, maybe... or a row.

"This will sting," you murmur — though, mostly to yourself, as Nikto isn't particularly talkative, and usually only replies in grunts.

Eventhough Nikto could have gone to medical to have his injuries treated by a more qualified individual, he went straight to you instead: maybe you applied too much pressure on accident when disinfecting the wound with antiseptic and his skin would sting; maybe the bandages were never tight enough and always on the loose side; and maybe your handiwork wasn't as precise or skillful, but Nikto found that simply being around you was enough to heal him.

Yes, it does sting. A lot.

Or it should. Nikto has become desensitised to pain, and it doesn't register like it used to. What should be excruciating agony feels like a dull throb in the background, or the aftershocks felt from a body that didn't belong to him, yet does. Not to mention that he dissociates a lot, so he can make active pain... passive.

So yes, it does sting. It just doesn't hurt.

Nikto lets you do as you please, watching with silent attention the entire time. He keeps his hand limp, letting you hold it however you want...

...Just as long as you're holding it.

The size difference is stark, his large fingers easily encircling your wrist almost in its entirety. He’s big and built, scars and old wounds littered across his pale skin, pink and raw in the places that he was burned. You? You are small and... soft.

Your biceps aren't as big as his. Your muscles aren't as defined as his. Your build isn't as solid, strong, and stout as his is.

Instead, you are… delicate. Like a porcelain doll. And as pretty as one, too. Especially when your eyes are as glassy as they are now, and catch the light at such an angle that it makes them sparkle like rare gems to be treasured and cherished. Nikto's treasure.

Delicate to him, at least; because, no matter how much you insist that you are not petite, not tiny, and not fragile, it further solidifies in his mind how he ought to protect you. Which was annoying as fuck, since you weren't a child that had to be coddled and protected, but it was what it was. It was almost... adorable?

"Is it alright?" You ask, antsy with anticipation, absentmindedly chewing on the inside of your cheek without realising. "Maybe... try flexing your hand?"

He does, surveying your handiwork, twisting his hand this way and that, clenching his fingers into as tight of a fist as he can make it.

"Or... is it, erm... too tight? I-I can wrap it again, if it's uncomfortable—”

“—No.”

Truth of the matter was, it could have been better — any nurse would have been appalled, and hastily bandaged Nikto's hand again for themselves.

But, since it was you that treated him, it was the best treatment which he could have ever asked for.

And it was not "alright", but immaculate, thank you.

With a sigh, you release his hand, and miss how Nikto instantly tenses, missing the intimacy, as subtle and fleeting as it was.

“You get into too many fights," you say, eyebrows furrowed slightly over your eyes in unconcealed disapproval.

A shrug. “Too many people provoke me," Nikto puts bluntly.

“Provoke you how, exactly? By breathing? Existing?"

For a long moment, Nikto was quiet. You were on edge — your sarcasm did not bode well with Nikto sometimes, and it probably came across as malicious and accusatory...

Fuck. Fuuuck...

However, through gritted teeth, Nikto utters: “They… were saying bad things about you.”

Instantly your demeanour changes, and although you attempt to disguise it with a stern expression and cold tone, your features soften considerably, and the furrowed brows and the wrinkles in your forehead smoothen, like ice melting.

“Nikto…”

Nikto, defending your honour? He, punching not just recruits, but other operators, and threatening the commanders with death lest they mess with you? Hurt you? Merely talk badly about you?

Oh fuck... your heart aches, and stubbornly clenches with affection eventhough you ought to scold him, to tell him to stop, to behave rationally... despite not particularly wanting to.

Since the idea of being defended by Nikto is... nice.

Still.

“Nikto... please don't fight people on my behalf.”

Immediately, he becomes defensive, and gruffly grunts a harsh: “Why not?”

You bite your lip. “Because… I don't want you to get hurt. Okay?"

“I don't care if I get hurt. All I care about is you. You're all that matters."

“And I care about you. I care if you get hurt. Because it matters to me. So… don't, okay?"

"...Hmph."

"...Please," you whisper, pleading nonverbally with your eyes. "...For me?"

For you? He would do anything...

...not get hurt, that is.

Next time a person insulted you or made a snarky remark about you in any way, he would hurl a chair at them. Or plot the most inconspicuous murder.

Just as long as he wouldn't get hurt, yes?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@blackinkniko @arrozyfrijoles23 @wil-xyz @revnatheshadow @feelya @liminal-chickenskin @zoloftwithdrawalnausea @soupiiiie @lizzy019

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/Ns

One Nikto wip done... 12+ more to go!!!!!, 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

.....i will only pass away peacefully if i finish these .....

..... then and ONLY then im going to bash my head against a wall so i am in a coma 😇 (JOKE)

Going to miss my anons:(((... Im verysad to have closed my inbox but it was necessary for me 😟...

Anyways, my closed inbox gives me motivation to write as fast as possible so I can interact with them (you!!! <333) again ☺️💞💞💞

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 11

______________________________

"Okay, I can't take it anymore, why the hell does everyone get gloomy every time we're at the manor? Everyone seems fine at duty?" Duke places his cutlery down, his tone nervous yet determined to find out what's wrong with his family

He noticed.

Of course he did, after he lost his whole life, he was given to Bruce, and he loved them, they loved him too, they were kind, understanding, and they were all he needed after everything

That wasn't the same for them, They were empty, only rare moments where they relish in happy moments

Did he ruin it? Did he do something? Or was the feeling of never truly being accepted is just because he's new? Does a certain test have to happen?

Worst part, Duke can't even complain, they showered him with love, and he tried too, he plans activities, though they always comply it doesn't help, he feels as if there's this void he can't seem to fill

What can he do to make his family well?

Is this because of that child?

(Name) Wayne?

He couldn't meet (Name), for they were already gone, when he first met Batman, when he first met the family, he didn't see anything wrong, no grieving, he thought it was odd, but it has been a year, no... Bruce would never forget a child, let alone his

Would he?

Then he saw, Duke thought he would try to make his family feel better, by asking questions about (Name), maybe recalling happy memories about that child would cheer them up

But they couldn't speak, Tim who is usually chatty would quiet down and keep to himself, Steph who would never make Duke feel lonely stepped away when asked

He saw no pictures, he heard no stories, He noticed no child.

His family, his new family couldn't have neglected and god forbid forgot a child?

The same one who took him in?

The same one he found peace with?

He knew the answer was right In front of him, Bruce often, though he cares about his kids, Duke knows Bruce is more of Batman than Bruce, And Batman loves his duty more than his kids

He knew the entire family put each other on second, Dick with the titans, Tim with young justice, Oracle with Birds of prey, this family puts family on second, but it doesn't mean they don't care

It sometimes makes Duke wonder if he'll find people that will push him to put the Wayne's second

Could it be, that everyone was so engrossed in their own lives, in their duty, their second make shift family, that they forgot about the first? that they forgot someone needed them, (Name) needed them

He knows they failed, and he's scared they might fail him too

Duke inhales and exhales, his eyes straight to Bruce "How long are you going to let your guilt eat you? You made a choice to pick your duty over your kid, so stand by it" he says

Duke knows they hurt someone, The Waynes hurt someone very vulnerable, but he can't bring himself to hate his family, they're the only one he has

Duke can't wait for the time he meets another family, maybe then he can let go of the Waynes

______________________________

"oh fuck we are so in trouble" you yell as a bunch of hippocampi swim further and further away from the camp

The harpies screech, and Mr. D- looks disappointed, as he's being held back by Hermes, you begin to think what would happen if Hermes lets go of his grip on Mr. D's arm

Percy shuts his eyes tight as he hugs his hippocampus "Thank you dad..." He whispered

Poseidon sending the hippocampi meant his father believed in him, that his father believed that he should be the one to save camp

And it made Percy believe he was enough, that he was strong

Despite the negligence Percy and the rest of the camp suffered, small moments that make the Gods show they care is enough for them

It made you wonder if your father had done the same, if he ignores you for months but pops in to check on you from time to time

Would you have stayed?

Would that have been enough for you?

Seeing as you hold on to the fact Aphrodite called you her favorite, you fear that you would have

______________________________

Duke knows the people he loves did something wrong, but because he loves them he can't bring himself to hate them, he waits to love another person more than he loves his family to leave

@ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar

[theveryworstthing]

a small selection of ill omen spirits common in myths and legends from mainlander and rabbit culture respectively. ghosts and spirits are different things and no one knows exactly what spirits are, but rabbit priests hypothesize that if they're real (very rich of them to assume they know what's real but whatever) they might be ghosts that sort of decomposed a long long time ago and turned into Something Else. probably not though. who knows. here are some spooky facts:

Mainlanders:

mainlander spirits bringing ill omens tend to be very bestial and chimeric. often they have have too many limbs, shrouded and/or twisted faces, and a lack of markings at the joints that all mainlanders have, though sometimes these markings will be replaced by a cracked texture that looks more like broken shell than skin.

silent weeping isn't always present but it is common, and the spirit never actively cries, its tears just continually leak.

most of the time.

spirits that specifically come warning about death are always surrounded by a circle of mushrooms wherever they go, and may even be the center of countless interlocking circles if they're coming to warn of mass tragedies.

stories say that these spirits can be talked to, but that would involve getting close enough to hear their whispered words. the "proper way" to engage with them is by thanking them politely while averting your eyes and then offering to sing them something in return. you start singing before they answer of course, and then keep singing, drowning out their words, until they leave. never try to leave first and never disrespect them but don't listen to them ESPECIALLY if they're saying anything involving or incriminating the Royals. if you encounter one then you must contact a medium who will tell you what they probably wanted without the pesky threat of blasphemy involved :)

Rabbits:

rabbit spirits bringing ill omens are a little more...unavoidable...if the stories are true. they have something to tell you and they're gonna do that whether you like it or not. which is a conundrum because rabbits, as a rule, do not fuck with omens and destiny and foretellings. letting the universe think it can lead you around is a bad idea most of the time. that's how you get Chosen Ones, AKA, Fate Slaves. rabbits refuse to be doomed by the narrative, they can doom themselves thank you very much.

all this is probably why their brand of spirits are so insistent, because they know rabbits want nothing to do with knowing the future.

but.

it's complicated.

because while most rabbits turn down carot readings and side eye tea leaves, they do listen to these spirits. because danger is danger and they haven't survived this long on the island ignoring information about their surroundings. rabbit ill omen spirits are treated less like beings trying to order you around and more like the smell of smoke before a fire starts or the far off sounds of a predator. a personification of vigilance. if a spirit of ill omen starts bothering you it's best to hear them out. you shouldn't let them lead you anywhere or follow their orders because if they're giving orders then they're Something Else, but if a Black Crush floats through the halls, headless wormlike body crumpling in on itself section by section until it's just a writhing black line dripping phantom blood on the floor, then you should probably check the tunnel stability of the entire warren.

now.

culturally these spirits have a lot of moth attributes and tend to show some kind of damage correlating to the threat they're warning you about. many of them are non-verbal but their messages are always very clear. no cryptic bullshit. if the rabbit encountering the spirit doesn't seem to get the message then they'll up the ante until there is conformation that they are being understood. spirits should be respected and listened to but using your common sense is the most important when dealing with them and it's important not to freak out and jump to conclusions.

[shy-writer-999]

hey friend! can i request a capital F FILTHY zoro x f!reader where they two of them are rivals/borderline enemies who fight all the time but after they both get a lil tipsy they end up hate fucking in the roughest most desperate way possible…

Ohhhh yes yes yes. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, ANON. anything filthy and with zoro i’m down. brace yourself because this is nasty. you told me capital F FILTHY and i gave you FILTHIER. this turned into a ~2.9k word monstrosity. i read it through like twice so plz excuse any overused words or typos...

everyone say it with me, now: "hate sex! hate sex! hate sex!!!!"

---

You and Zoro butted heads since the day you got on the ship. Zoro thought his tiffs with Sanji were super fucking annoying—but Sanji had nothing on you. Not only did you have an annoying quip in response to everything he said, but he heard you actively shit talking him in front of his face multiple times. He despised you—everything about you. He hated how you mocked him, hated how cocky you were around him, hated the way you fought, your morals, the way you spoke to everyone BUT him; he couldn’t stand you.

The pair of you had almost gotten to blows multiple times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hit you. He’d threaten you with his sword but never use it, even though he thought about it more than he would like to admit.

Your asinine remarks would replay in his head sometimes. “Zoro, the amount of effort you put into working out and being stoic is fucking pathetic. Lighten up for once. You’re fucking draining to be around.” Your tone was vile and pitiful. He saw red any time you said stuff like that.

“Zoro, another bottle of sake? Like you haven’t had enough to drink for a whole year? Fucking alcoholic.” You would smirk and condescend, and he’d try to send it back your way but he felt like the couldn’t twist the dagger the same way that you could.

“Shut up,” he would respond, agitated and cold. “Mind your fucking business and go nag someone else, woman. You’re insufferable.”

What was the most agitating thing about you being an asshole to him was that you did it while looking so good. He hated that. He would actively mull the fact over—you were gorgeous, but you had such a rotten personality, it couldn’t be helped. You fought like shit, treated him like a child, mocked him, derided him… And he did the same to you. But he felt his cock twinge any time you got close and nasty with him.

“Yeah, Zoro? Going to go sneak back to your hideout and drown yourself with sake before swinging your swords around? Fucking weirdo.”

Sometimes he would get really intense about it. He’d seethe with hatred and respond with such loathing that it was a wonder he didn’t do anything about it. “If you don’t leave me alone, I swear I’ll slit your throat.”

“Yeah, jackass? I’m sure you like to dream about that, but you’ll never be able to do it because you’re 1: a pussy and 2: I’m your crewmate, idiot.” Sometimes you’d tease him for having the hots for you (which you thought was false), and he’d get so flushed and angry that you thought he would light on fire.

One night, a group of the crew was drinking on deck. You, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, and Usopp. Everyone was a few cups (or bottles) deep, and what started in raucous laughter ended with people splitting up into small groups or going inside for some snacks.

You and Zoro were unfortunately sitting next to each other, much to your mutual dislike. An offhand comment from Zoro (he was speaking to Usopp) vaguely alluded to you being bad at wielding a sword. It set you off. Your head whipped in his direction. He must have been sitting a few feet away.

“What the fuck did you just say, Zoro?”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “What’s it to you? Can’t you mind your own damn business?”

You bit your lip and shoved the crude and despicable rebuttal back in your throat—it wasn’t worth fighting with him again. You already had a spat earlier that day, which left you both livid. Sometimes you’d goad him into it for fun and games. The added benefit was that he would get even hotter when he was angry. Sure, his personality was shit, but when he sneered and snarled at you he looked damn good. You were in denial about how much his scowls turned you on, but you ignored it because you couldn’t stand the man. He was just an atrocious person all around, and you let him know that every second that you could.

After you heard the comment, you huffed, snatched your bottle up and stormed inside. You were about to smack the shit out of him. When you stood up, the alcohol hit you—you were definitely tipsy, perhaps that was contributing to how enraged you were.

You went into the galley and you were about to grab another bottle when the door opened. Those familiar, maddeningly heavy, swaggering footsteps padded towards you. Presumably, Zoro was coming to grab another bottle of sake. Like he fucking needs one, you scoffed to yourself.

“Oh, great.” He was scornful and sarcastic. “You gettin’ more? Can’t wait to see how annoying you get after this bottle.”

“Zoro, you’re on my last fucking nerve.” You turned around and he was a couple feet away, arms crossed. Something in his eyes looked different.

“Is that so? When am I not on your last nerve? You’re so fuckin’ sensitive, get a grip.”

You bit your tongue, trying to not say something foul. You failed.

“Zoro, I’m so sick of you. Your presence is literally unbearable. I can’t stand you, seriously, not right now. And oh, by the way, you’re a shit swordsman.”

You knew that last part would infuriate him. You wanted to get him riled up. It was a sick form of entertainment for you. And anytime you told him he was a shit swordsman he went ballistic.

“Do you ever shut your damn mouth!?” He stepped forward, his voice angry. He was uncomfortably close. You were leaning back on the counter, trying to create any distance you could between your face and his, but he had you caged in. He put a hand on the counter behind you.

“Always looking to start a fight, huh?” His tone was contemptuous and belittling. “You’re about to bite off more than you can chew.”

The closer he got, the hotter he looked. You hated him, but fuck, he was a sight for sore eyes. When he was up this close, you felt even more intoxicated than you already were.

“And what would that mean?” You stared into his eyes, deadpan and annoyed. You placed it now, you could see what about his eyes looked different—his eyes were ravenous. He looked like he was starving for something. More liquor? You hoped he was hungry for something else.

“You’ve got such a big mouth and you never stop running it.” He was practically growling.

Your heartbeat grew faster, and heat started to bloom between your legs. He was so hot when he was angry. That was part of the fun. Especially when his voice got like that.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and your eyes were deadly.

“Might have to shut you up somehow. Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up if my cock is shoved down your throat.”

You actually laughed. “Oh, what is it? Like three inches?”

He drew his face closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t bracing himself on the counter came to squeeze one of your hips so hard that it hurt.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.” He murmured, his voice deep and hushed.

Your eyes were locked, eye contact blistering. He was staring into you so hard you thought he’d leave a burn mark on your irises.

“You’re an idiot, Zoro. Are you being serious? You’d cum all over yourself before you even got close to fucking me.”

“Mmmm, we’ll see about that.” He purred. You were speechless, your brain trying and failing to come up with something to throw back at him. It was short circuiting because he just said he wanted to fuck you.

In the moment that you were searching for an answer, his lips crashed into yours. His grip on your hip tightened; it was going to leave a bruise. As your bodies pressed together, you noticed his hard on rutting into you slowly.

The kisses were haphazard and sloppy, teeth knocking. He bit your lip so hard you almost yelped. A hand snuck up to grab a fistful of your hair and he pulled it so tight it’s a wonder he didn’t rip out a huge clump of it.

“You’re fucking useless.” He pulled away from you, murmuring in a husky tone centimeters away from your lips. “You talk all that shit but I know you want me to fuck you. Probably wanted it the whole time.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You would have enjoyed every second of this if he just shut his trap.

He pushed you up so you were sitting on the counter. Sucking harshly on your neck, he bit it so hard you thought it would bleed. You let out a muffled whine in surprise.

“Are you already getting worked up and I’ve barely touched you?” His voice was poisonous.

“Holy shit, shut up, Zoro.”

“Say that one more time and I’ll put my cock in you.”

You doubled down. You hoped he was serious. “I said, shut the fuck up, Zoro.”

He let go of your hair and hips and proceeded to rip your pants and panties off in one go. He almost shredded the seams. He took in the sight for a moment.

Your eyes were bathed in lust, your breaths shallow and quick already. Your shirt rode up and your nipples were hard.

His fingers wandered to your now bare cunt and he let out a chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet already. I know you’re going to take it all for me because you’re fucking desperate. Is that right?”

Your mouth went dry and you did the most miniscule of nods. You didn’t want him to know how badly you needed him.

He slid two thick fingers into your entrance then started to finger fuck you. Your walls tightened and pulsed around him, getting adjusted. Pushing them apart, his fingers roamed and prodded. It felt so good that you had to bite your lip to keep the moans back. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve been craving my cock this whole time like a depraved, touch-starved slut, haven’t you?”

His other hand grabbed a painful fist of your ass and then crept up to squeeze your throat. You let out a barely audible whimper and he felt his cock twitch.

You tried to squeak out words and you were barely successful. “You’re—the one—who’s hard—right now, Zoro.”

It was a lame comeback, but it drove him crazy. “Use your fucking mouth one more time and I’m going to stuff you so full you can’t talk.”

His fingers found your g-spot and pressed on it forcefully. You choked out a breathy “fuck you, Zoro,” and he went still.

“What was that?” His hand around your throat tightened. “Did you not hear what I just said, or are you fucking stupid?”

His fingers started to move twice as fast, and you squirmed. When he could tell you were about to orgasm, he pulled them out.  

He freed his cock from his pants and fisted it lazily for a moment before lining it up with your entrance. “You want this, don’t you? You ran your fat mouth too much, now I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you. Say I’m a shit swordsman one more time and I’ll choke the air out of you until you see stars, then I’ll stuff you full of my cock. But you’d probably like that. Fucking slut.”

“You’re—a fucking—shit—swordsman” you tried to get the words out as his fist squeezed your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you were so aroused that it was hard to focus.

He pushed his cock into your folds and through your slit, entering you inches at a time. You started seeing stars, as promised, and you could only focus on his vice grip around your throat and the sensation of his huge girthy cock stretching you out. He let go of your throat for a moment before bottoming out, and when his tip kissed your cervix he groaned.

“Just look at you. Drooling for my cock, you’re worthless.”

He leaned in so your foreheads touched and pulled out of you agonizingly slow.

“You want more? You want me to fuck you?”

You just looked at him, pouting. You didn’t want to admit it. But you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD. You nodded again and he plunged back into you forcefully. A wet squelching noise sounded into the room when he bottomed out again.

Zoro grinded his hips just enough so he could fuck you deep inside.

“What, the back talk stops the second I put my cock in you?”

You hissed air in through your teeth. “Fuck you, Zoro.”

His jaw dropped for a second and he lost composure, but he kept moving his hips all the same. “What was that?”

“I said fuck you.” You were glaring up at him petulantly.

He pulled his cock out completely and you gasped at the feeling of emptiness.

“Okay, if you hate me so much then I’ll just stop. Is that what you want?”

You could only shit talk for so long before the pleasure started to take over your mind in a haze. All that you knew now was that Zoro was saying dirty things to you and he just took his cock out. That was unacceptable, at this point.

“Zoro.” You whined. “Put it back.”

“Awh, you want me to put it back in?” He feigned pity while you nodded eagerly, throwing all dignity out of the window.

“If you want it that bad, then you need to beg for it like the pathetic little slut you are.”

Your cheeks smarted with blush. You couldn’t believe that you were about to beg for his dick, but you needed it so fucking bad you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck. Please Zoro. Please keep fucking me.”

Now that he was getting carried away, he wanted to be cruel. You did have a habit of running your mouth, and he wanted to punish you for it.

“Hmm. That’s not quite good enough. If you really want it, say my name. Say my name and I’ll fuck you.”

“Zoro.” You pleaded, your voice strained. He snuck a hand back in your hair and pulled your hair so hard it hurt.

“No. I said, say my name.”

“Roronoa Zoro. Please. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“Roronoa Zoro. P-please.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pressed his cock into you again with a groan. One hand was gripping your hip, and he moved the other down to rub circles over your clit. Your hips bucked.

You started to let out moans with reckless abandon—you needed it harder, faster, deeper, anything that he could possibly do with his cock, you needed it. The noises melted in his ear, but he was worried that someone would hear, so he kissed you. It actually felt tender at times—if you weren’t lost in pleasure, you’d have been able to feel his thumb rubbing a circle on your cheek. What was up with that?

Between his kisses, he said something filthier with each thrust. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Fuck, Zoro. Feels so good. Your cock—feels so fucking good.”

His shaft and tip dragged over your g-spot countless times. Each time your moans got louder and the mess you were making on Zoro’s cock got juicier.

“Zoro, ‘m gonna cum.” You were at your wits end.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Cum for me. Just for me.”

That was all you needed to hear before you started to squirm and writhe with pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and your eyes rolled back in your head—it was that good. He fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out to cum on your stomach. He wanted to cum inside, but he figured he’d save that for next time (if you were nice enough to let him).

Moments later, while he got you cleaned up, he admired how flushed you were and how lidded your eyes were with satisfaction.

“Baby, huh?” You giggled.

“What?” Zoro was puzzled.

“You called me baby.”

He turned crimson. “You heard me wrong, blockhead.”

“Mmmhmmm, sure. Now help me put my pants on. There’s no way I can walk after that, baby.”

He was speechless. He knew you were teasing him, but he liked it. Enemies to lovers, much?

You found out later that no one walked into the kitchen while you were fucking because Sanji almost went inside and got quite the eyeful through the mini window on the door. He almost puked at the sight then promptly told everyone “no one go in the galley because the two boneheads are doing something disgusting.”

[bridge-arsonist]

Why The Voice Of The Cold Hates The Narrator

Replaying the Nightmare -> Wraith route and I'm realizing...

Jesus fucking christ, The Cold hates the narrator. Honestly, I think he might just give Smitten or Contrarian a run for their money.

He:

Doubts every word the narrator speaks

Insults the narrator whenever he gets the chance

Actively suggests killing the narrator, even stating that the princess could help do that

Not only suggests killing the narrator, but also suggests that—no—actually, death is too good for the guy. They should lock the narrator in a void just like the fake good ending. Mind you, this route doesn't even have the narrator do that!

Mocks the narrator when he finally gives up on trying to make you slay the princess

Seems happy that the narrator is gone, saying he had a feeling The Wraith could deal with him

I'm pretty sure Cold over here'd rather be playing Slay The Narrator.

Really though, upon further reflection, The Cold's hatred for The Narrator is also prevalent in The Spectre, where one of the few things he actually seems to have a firm stance on is "We should kill the Narrator". In the Greys, though he's arguably at his most nihilistic, he still seems to oppose the Narrator. He joins the Skeptic in his suspicions, and though he mostly just seems to be having a time provoking Smitten during the Burned Grey, he still does take the occasional second to spite the Narrator.

And honestly, come to think about it, it makes sense. After all, the Cold manifests not necessarily from slaying the Princess, but more specifically, from killing yourself. But not just from killing yourself, slaying yourself in The Tower at the hands of the Broken doesn't manifest him, but specifically by killing yourself to spite the narrator. I mean, other than Empty Cup and Moment of Clarity (Where we don't actually know how he manifested due to the timeskips), each iteration of Cold's manifestation checks out.

Spectre: You slay her, get the good ending, but then decide "fuck this and fuck your contruct", and stab yourself even as the narrator repeatedly urges you not to.

Burned Grey: You kill the Damsel, and in a fit of rage against both you and the narrator, the Smitten kills you, even as the narrator urges him not to. (Funnily enough, this means that, despite the Smitten's line of "you killed her, and so I killed you", it was the opposite, and the Smitten manifested the Cold)

Drowned Grey: You kill the Prisoner, and, just like in the Spectre's route, you kill yourself even as the Narrator urges you not to. If you refuse to kill yourself, Skeptic does it for you, seeming apologetic towards you, but definitely not towards The Narrator.

Wraith: You kill yourself as the Narrator urges you not to, and Paranoid also spends this route doubting the Narrator.

These routes involve various levels of emotion for the Princess, ranging from "My love! Still gonna kill you though" to "So scary! Still gonna kill you though", and an overall perception of the Princess as a corpse. But the Narrator? In all of the routes leading up to Cold's manifestation, the Narrator is met with hostility, usually leading to you killing yourself out of a mix of spite and suspicion.

So Cold's manifestation has two constants:

Some level of apathy towards the Princess, regardless of your previous interactions with her. Whether she's your perfect damsel or your worst nightmare, you don't care. You stab her.

Disregard for your own safety. You're just going to stab yourself, cool. It's better than this hell. Sometimes it's another voice fulfilling this requirement for you, like Smitten in the Damsel, or Skeptic in Prisoner depending on whether or not you willingly die.

Distaste towards the narrator. A conclusion that the Narrator is untrustworthy and distinctly not on your side. No matter how you manifest the Cold, it is clear that you do not like this pesky raven one bit. The Nightmater -> Wraith route shows this through Paranoid's constant suspicion of the Narrator. This distaste frequently, thought not always, occurs due to the Narrator attempting to force you to live out your life in the void, though it can also occur due to the Narrator attempting to make you live a life without the one thing you cherish (Damsel route).

Apathy towards most things, but one thing's for certain: You don't trust that Narrator guy. He tried to make you live out a crappy, boring life for eternity.

Cold's attitude makes sense when you look at how he was created. Just like Smitten was made by deciding the princess was an immediately trustworthy damsel in need of rescuing from the pesky narrator, or that the witch is a gorgeous woman whom you can save by giving your blade in spite of the narrator's wishes—Cold is made through deciding that neither your nor the princess's safety particularly matters, but fuck that narrator guy. He sucks. As apathetic as the Cold likes to act, he reacts to Smitten's threats and the Princess's murder attempts with "interesting", and reacts to the Narrator's explanation of the timeline with "we should kill him".

So, my point?

Well, I think that—not only does the Cold hate the Narrator—but hating the Narrator is part of him as a voice. He's cold, apathetic, and he hates the Narrator. It's been baked into his very being through the choices that you make. The princess doesn't matter, your physical well-being doesn't matter, but know that the Narrator is an untrustworthy little prick.

TLDR: Replaying Wraith made me realize that the Cold probably hates the Narrator very very much, and he does so because it is baked into his very being because of the choices you made to manifest him. You go, king. Let your inner hater run free.

[somerandomdudelmao]

I have a feeling most of you can guess who it is on the first try~

Tapa. Tap. @tapakah0 course it's her. OF COURSE

I'm not gonna lie, this comic has been far from easy for me. Not because of the drawing. It's the motivation. Or rather the effort to stay motivated haha

Some days I almost decide to give up on it, but then I remember that, hey, Tapa is probably waiting for the next update now. She'll probably be excited to read it.

And that was usually enough to reach my desk and sit down to draw.

Her animatics gave me tons of sorotonin. Her fanart is on my tablet wallpaper. Her little rabid bunny pictures are literally one of the main reasons I didn't give up, even though I really wanted to sometimes.

I got this ask a loooooong time ago, but I purposely kept it until this day. Because I didn't want to pressure Tapa into being more active or anything like that. I wanted everything she did to be from the heart or something haha

You all should seriously thank her. Because if she had given up on c.a.s...., I might have, too.

Anyway.

I started this comic because of Hoddi

I was able to finish it because of Tapa.

It's been a whole adventure and I think I need a vacation now because oh my fucking god. It was like having a legit second job haha

[eelnoise]

head headcanons! (op x afab! reader)

ft: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Kid, and Law

NSFW headcanons, 18+ MDNI

it came to me in a dream things they do/like when giving and receiving :) cw: smut. rough oral occasionally.

Luffy:

giving:

The boy drools. Not even purposefully so, either. Just a glimpse at your glistening folds has him salivating just as he would at a feast. Will quite literally try to eat you like one, too. Should probably put a towel down, maybe.

Loves when you push his head into your pussy. He'll rub his whole face into you until he's covered in your juices, and will even pin your thighs back to do it himself if he's feeling impatient.

Absolutely gets off on tongue fucking you. He loves it when you whine and wail when he stretches it wide within you, curling and twisting it in ways that make your toes curl and your hips twitch uncontrollably.

receiving:

Still a drooler. Though with more intention. Will let himself drool down his chin and onto your forehead, cheeks, lips, and his own cock. Loves watching the saliva mix together with his precum while his cock disappears inside of your mouth over and over.

He's a throat fucker. Don't be surprised when he grabs hold of your head tightly to rut as deep into your throat as he can go.

Could cum from hearing you choke on his cock. Stretches his cock out on your tongue just to hear you gag.

Zoro:

giving:

A spitter. Will spit on your clit, your thighs, into your hole, anywhere he wants. Loves it messy when he devours you, expect a lot of slurping and noisy sucking.

Actually will make out with your pussy. Loves kissing it, sliding his tongue between your folds to lap and suck at your clit before going back to trailing wet tongue kisses up and down your slit.

Possessive af and doesn't hesitate to hold you down so he can eat as he pleases. Holds your legs down or your thighs back so you're always open and dripping and ready for him.

receiving:

Will grab your head to keep it steady, but also loves to dig his fingers into your scalp to help you take as much of him down your throat as possible.

Wants it as wet and messy as possible. Can't get enough of the squelching sounds you make as your saliva drips from your mouth and down his cock until it pools around the base.

A dick slapper. Wants to smear his precum and your spit all around your face with the tip of his cock before slapping you with it. Each cheek, against your lips, on your tongue, he's doing it everywhere he can.

Sanji:

giving:

The man is a sniffer. Loves your natural scent and honestly could be content with just that, but what good is he as a chef if he doesn't taste the meal given so freely to him?

Absolutely savors you. Long, slow licks up and down your sex, sliding his tongue between your folds, sometimes even into you. Moans and whines face first into you, matching your own cries of pleasure with his own, eyes glazed over with love for you as he watches your face twist and contort in bliss.

Worships your pussy for so long and so well that he cums untouched - soaking the sheets even more with a whimper of your name against your clit.

receiving:

LOVES BEING TEASED. Goes crazy when you flick your tongue against his frenulum. Whimpers and whines until tears collect in his eyes, and when you finally take him into your mouth he's already about to cum.

Somewhat shy with what he wants. Really likes his balls sucked but won't outright tell you until you figure it out yourself one day. Now you do it every single time, entranced in the mess he becomes when you lick and suck at them.

Loves when you swallow his cum and show him the evidence. Activates some dominant, primal side of him that he can only channel into when you happily gulp down what he has to give you. You're not about to waste food when you're on his watch.

Kid:

giving:

A pussy slapper. Won't hesitate at all to smack your clit - especially if you try to weasel away from him. He'll just hold you down and give you the punishment he deems that you deserve.

Sucker. Will suck hard on any piece of you his mouth can reach - your pussy lips, clit, inner thighs, whatever. Expect to ache after he's through with you.

Can't resist splitting you open with one (or two) large metal fingers. Will chuckle darkly each time the shock of the cool metal thats suddenly knuckles deep inside of you makes you wail out and clutch his red, messy hair between your fingers.

receiving:

Loves when you have a vibrator (preferably one that he's made himself and can control with a remote) inside of you while you suck him off. Will tease you each time he turns the vibration to max, loving the way you swallow down muffled cries with his cock stuffing your cheeks full.

Another throat fucker, though he's mean about it. Doesn't care if you gag or heave around him. He knows his size and knows when you can't possibly take any more of his length, and will relentlessly thrust down your throat until the sounds of his saliva-soaked balls hitting your chin echo in the room.

Impatient, and doesn't put up with any teasing. Will push your head down further and further until he's happy with the depth you're taking him at. Won't think twice about gripping your hair and tugging it up and down his length at a pace he sees fit to keep you at.

Law:

giving:

His long, deft fingers carry his lack of pussy eating skills. Knows how to use them and use them well - curling two or three deep inside of you to rub against the spot that makes your hips twitch and clasp fists into the bedsheets while he circles the pad of this thumb onto your clit. Will make you lick his fingers clean afterward.

Edger. Loves to see you desperate and dripping. Will bring you right to the point of ecstasy to just pull you back to earth. Only gives in when he thinks you've had enough, and that amount varies each time.

Gets a HUGE ego boost by making you cum. The man's mood increases tenfold, if even for a few minutes. Uses the boost in motivation to rail and ruin you with his cock afterward.

receiving:

Also loves hearing you choke and gag around him. Each heave of your chest makes him groan and tense in pleasure just by knowing that it's his cock that's forcing this reaction.

Will pull your hair and pull it hard. The muffled cry of pain and pleasure that vibrates his dick in your mouth fuels his insatiable need to keep you tethered to him. Will only release his harsh grip when he cums deep down your throat.

Really gets off on ball-sucking. Wants to see them pressed against your face as your blown wide and cock-drunk pupils peer up at him. Jerks himself off while you lap and suckle, to eventually pull you away so he can paint your face in his cum.

[carmenberzattosgf]

cockwarming ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I am convinced Carmy’s favorite activity is cockwarming. He craves physical touch, as much of it as possible. Getting to be inside of you and cuddle at the same time? Yeah, Carmy’s sold.

The first time it happens is when you’re over at Carmy’s apartment on his day off. He had already cooked you dinner, and you’re now snuggled up beside him on the couch, watching a movie.

Carmy has been thinking about cockwarming with you for quite awhile, now. In all honesty, the thought has haunted him, but there was never a good time to bring it up. That is, until now.

“Hey, baby? Do you, uh—you wanna try something with me?”

“Sure, Carm. What is it?”

Carmy can’t look at you while he’s talking. He’s leaning his forehead against your temple, speaking in a whisper against your ear. “Want you to sit on my cock for the rest of the movie.”

“Oh. Y-yeah. Yeah— I can do that.” You try to keep your voice steady, but there’s no use. Carmy does this to you every time; one word from his lips could send you to your knees.

With your back to his chest, you sink down slowly onto Carmy’s cock. His sweatpants and boxers are only pulled down far enough for his cock to be exposed. Once you’ve settled down to the hilt, Carmy’s arms wrap around your midsection as he settles back into the couch.

You manage to stay still for a grand total of two minutes. You can’t help the way your hips grind onto his cock. Carmen’s fingertips dig into your hips within seconds, stopping you completely.

“Hey. No moving. Be a good girl, yeah? Stay still, and watch the movie.” Carmy’s not playing around. Even though you can’t see the look on his face, his voice is stern.

The minutes of the movie feel like hours. Carmen’s throbbing inside of you, and your breathing becomes more rapid by the minute.

“Just a little longer, then I’ll fuck you. Keep being a good girl for me,” he says, kissing the back of your head. “Already done so good. M’ proud of you, baby.”

Overtime, cockwarming becomes normal in your relationship with Carmy. It’s not always so sexually charged, though. Often times, Carmy just wants to feel close to you, and what’s a better way than to be inside of you?

This leads to lots and lots of cuddling with his dick in you. Sometimes it leads to sex, other times you spend hours in each others arms, savoring every moment together.

I also thing that Carmy would mess with the idea of you keeping his cock warm with your mouth while he does paperwork at the office. Just you, kneeling at his feet, drooling around his length with your head halfway resting on his thigh. Everyone once in awhile his hand trails down to lovingly pat on your head, and you just look up at him with the most cock drunk look in your eyes. Carmen’s convinced he’s died and gone to heaven.

[oukabarsburgblr]

DOM/SUB DYNAMICS WITH UR OCS…PLS……🙏🙏🙏

Yuh yuh okay hawk ptuh lesgo

Aito Sousuke...

Flaming red hair, its length barely grazing over his upper back and his face that just screams masculinity and dominance...Yeah you aint ever topping him.

He really likes to manhandle you, constantly putting you in positions where you feel suffocated and could only focus on the shape of his cock thrusting inside of you.

His favourite position was either doggy or the one where your half-laid on the bed and hes holding your legs up while fucking his dick into your ass, him leaning down to suck on your tongue.

I would say hes one of those pleasure doms where he sees you cumming or squirting a whole lot is the best and most satisfying for him. It reflects of how good of a job he did pleasuring you.

Hes not entirely focused on his own sexual gratification. But he is horny 24/7. Not all the time but whenever the both of you are alone, you bet hes sticking his tongue down your throat.

He doesnt try to explore, he only needs your skin against his and hes a-okay. Hes not shy to use his tongue, in fact one of his favourite things to do with you is the 69 position, with you on top. Hes a MUNCH. Like if he could hed have a fucking badge of it.

Sometimes he'll let you crawl on top of him, maybe riding him or even let you lay down during the 69 position although he'll thrust his cock into your mouth while fingering your ass.

Theres no clear signals for boundaries or the sort. He knows your body well and he knows when to switch it up if youre too stimulated in one position. Your mouth is his favourite part.

Hes not into voyeurism, your body during your intimate acts are for his and his eyes only. He doesnt talk a lot during sex. Only moaning into your ear, mumbling how tight your little hole is.

Unless it just involves another party actively participating in sex together...which leads us to him.

Daisuke Yuichi

Smooth pale skin and a mop of black hair, Daisuke Yuichi can be presumed to be a prince of some land, especially with his status and he'll proceed to be one in bed.

He's very teasing, always edging you, jacking you off and clenching your tip. Foreplay is his middle name. The best at it.

He enjoys long make out session with you, especially if your in his lap. He gets to shove his hand inside your pants and just grope, squeeze and massage your soft cheeks. He'll even tease you when if your tongue was flat, asking you to stick it out more while scratching at your rim.

Every inch of your face would be coated with spit, him licking cheeks, your lips, he would bite at your throat before sucking it softly.

He's a clear cut dom, the one that tells you what to do, but he prioritises your limits, constantly needing a verbal affirmation from you before proceeding with his ludicrous acts.

He loves seeing you work for it, forcing you to masturbate in front of him, crawling and kneeling in front of him to give him a blowjob. He doesn't manhandle you a lot, only if you like to do it against the wall.

Favourite position is the mating press, he get to see your panicking or cockdrunk face while rutting his dick deep inside you. He loooooves to come inside you. Especially on your face.

He doesnt always to use his tongue on your ass though, only if you ask for it since he prefers to finger you instead. Like his pecs, his fingers are thick so it was enough to stuff it in you. He loves roleplay and using copious amount of lube just to hear your hole squelch.

Your sounds are his favourite, whether it be crying of pleasure, slapping of skin and especially moaning his first name, he gets off of it so baddd.

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ F*CK THE LIST

✧.* CHAPTER 2 || Fuck The Foolish Mistakes

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A continued tale after Gojo Satoru's blackmailing seemed to have much more to it than meets the eye.

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, masturbation, pervy!gojo, tw; mentions/hints of stalking & obsession, some heinous activities, dark themes, disturbing actions, etc.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE SUMMER BEFORE everything went to shit for you was the same summer in which you and Shoko decided to move in together. For two months of break, it felt so much longer than that. It was a time in which you spent getting closer and closer to Shoko, so much so that it was only natural that you would call her one of your closest friends.

Although, said friendship seemed rather one-sided. Sure, you both got along pretty well but from what it seemed— Shoko had plenty of other friends to run to whenever she wished. So, after you realized that, you got a bit more real with yourself and dubbed her as simply your roommate. Closest friend, but roommate nonetheless.

This summer was also spent single after you’d gotten dumped a few weeks before the last semester ended. You were sad about it for a while but Shoko was there to cheer you up. Meanwhile, the other people you thought were your friends steadily started to showcase their truer colors, revealing how they never really cared too much about you to begin with and dropped you just like your boyfriend had.

Ah, whatever, that’s all old stuff anyway. It took you maybe a week to get over all that foolishness. So by the time summertime came around, you thought things would get better for you. Instead, you lost your job and that’s where your struggle began. You may have picked up one or two during your summer break but ultimately, none of them stuck long enough to trickle over to your final two semesters of school.

And as you went through such things, a certain someone was keeping track of it all like some fucking stalker. This person in question being none other than Gojo Satoru himself. Unlike you, his summer was rather pleasant. He started babysitting due to his not-so-hidden love for children, he went out a decent number of times, and he heard things about you without even asking.

Why? Because he had a wonderful friend who talked about you to no end— Gojo became very thankful for Shoko because it’s due to her that the pages of his notebook began to fill with endless entries about you. Perhaps journaling you became some kind of hobby for him.

Or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t see you as much since it was summertime so he treasured every bit of information he got on you. Why was he so hooked on noting it all down though? Was it really curiosity at this point or, was it something so much more? He’d long since labeled it as a crush but that doesn’t excuse his journaling.

Hell, at one point Gojo found himself mindlessly writing down vivid details of the way your laugh sounds— from any pitch that’s ever grazed his ears, to the number of breaths taken before and after. It was then that Gojo dropped his pencil and read over what the hell he’d written down.

His hand shot up to his forehead and his fingers went to soothe his temples, brows tensing, and eyes narrowing at his own words. Did he… Did he really just sit here and describe a woman, who he’s never spoken to, and how her laugh sounds? At the realization, Gojo had to close his journal and push it away from himself.

Sometimes, he may try to pretend like he doesn’t see any harm behind this journaling thing of his but at moments like this… He nearly creeps himself out. Imagine if you were to ever stumble upon such a thing. Gojo’s almost disgusted with himself. Not even a hi or hello has ever been spoken to you and yet here he was printing the details of that joyful sound you make when you find something humorous.

Gojo was very self-aware by that point, mentally telling himself that he needed to stop this madness and just talk to you like he craved. Maybe Suguru was right, maybe your having a boyfriend didn’t matter.

On that day, Gojo should’ve listened to his own warnings. He should’ve taken care of his own red flags right then and there.

But instead, he only got worse.

—--

Depicting the details of your laughter was one thing. But going out of his way to print out photos of you he’d found on Instagram was an entirely different level of crazy.

Okay, so perhaps this was no longer just some cute lil’ crush… Gojo doesn’t know how his… curiosity got so dark. He doesn’t know where or when it really started but at some point, he thinks he became aware that this wasn’t exactly normal. Eventually, Gojo realized this was more of an obsession— you were an obsession.

A scary one too. Even scary to himself. The mere mention of your name would make Gojo’s heart race, whenever Shoko came around smelling like you in the slightest bit, Gojo could feel his mind blur and his thoughts instantly run to you.

One time Shoko, who was just as oblivious to this as everyone else at the time, showed the man a video of you and her trying some challenge together. Gojo doesn’t remember the challenge at all or even what either of you was doing in that video but he does remember having his eyes all over you.

He remembers seeing you hug Shoko by the end of the video and the feeling that burned in his heart. Such a deep form of jealousy swirled inside him and he couldn’t understand it. He never cared about Shoko being close to you before but now, it had pained him to watch his friend have the opportunity to feel you– to talk to you.

Something that Gojo told himself he no longer deserved to do. Yeah, he knows it was even more foolish but he felt as though he should be self-punished for his strange actions in regards to you. 

Those photos that he printed of you went right into his journal, along with an entry about how he wonders what it’s like to feel your touch. He wonders what holding a full conversation with you would be like. Would you laugh at the things he says? Would you playfully hit him if he utters something ridiculous? Are your hands soft? Would they feel soft wrapped around his cock-

Yet again did Gojo find himself dropping his pencil. Though, he doesn’t know which reason was worse. The fact that he really wrote that question down or the throb he felt in his cock at the mere thought of said question. Gulping, he told himself for the millionth time that he was losing his damn mind.

So much so that he had to push his journal away and really think about what the hell he just asked. He tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh at himself. He’d lost it, hadn’t he? Thinking about you in such a vulgar way without even knowing what talking to you is like is the very definition of insanity, yes?

No, this is just his obsession. He’s not insane. But hey, maybe the two go hand and hand— maybe there’s no difference between being batshit crazy and obsessing over someone…

Either way, Gojo tries to collect himself, moving to look down at his current state only to find that his cock didn’t just throb, instead the damn thing got hard. The sight was disappointing, to say the least. Gojo stared at the outline of his dick, wondering what the hell is wrong with his body and how the fuck he got hard so damn fast. All he did was think about you…

He moves to part his legs a bit more, trying to comfort himself and deciding he was going to ignore his boner and just return to writing. Though, as he leans up and pulls his journal back toward himself, his cock aches yet again. Gojo lets out a little groan, somewhat scolding himself for being like this.

And then he manages to ignore himself for a bit longer. At least, up until he does nothing more than read your name on his page. His focus narrowed in on the letters of your name, the sound of it echoing throughout his brain before his lips parted and he let out a sound.

His hand shoots up to his face and he covers his mouth, completely confused as to what the hell he’d just done. There was absolutely no way he’d nearly moaned at your name alone. Oh this was… No, he was losing it-, not even, he’d lost it already.

Gojo steadily wiped his mouth, fingers rubbing over his jawline for a moment before he looked down to his crotch. He could now feel how stupidly wet his tip was. Was he in heat or something? How the hell did he get so horny from… reading your name? Thinking about you? Hell, he doesn’t even know where to pinpoint the cause of all this anymore.

Shaking his head, his first thought was that he was in no way going to touch himself to the thought of you. Absolutely not. Fuck no. He may be obsessed but he’s not a… actually, there’s really no word he could use to describe what he’s not right now because he pretty much checks every box for an obsessive pervert.

“Shit,” Gojo huffed, glancing over to his wide-open room door. A second passes, then two, then three before he’s standing to his feet and walking over to the door.

The man glanced out into the hall, finding no signs of Geto anywhere before he shuts his door. Then, he pauses and stares at the lock. He’s not really about to do this, is he?

…

He locks the door and rushes right back over to his seat. Gojo slouches back a little this time and his legs part, his eyes low on his hard cock resting against his thigh and how painfully it was bulging against the fabric of his clothes.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He whispers. There’s no way you’d gotten him this hard…

You and your… everything. The very idea of you made Gojo roll his hips upward, causing faint friction against his clothed cock. Then he shook his head and looked away from himself.

“Nope, I’m not doin’ this shit,” He whispered. He can’t jerk off to some girl he doesn’t even know. He shouldn’t.

It’d be different if you were some pornstar he was infatuated with, then he could jerk off to you and there’d be no issue. But when you’re his friend’s friend… it’d be so weird of him to do so.

Even if you have the prettiest face he’s ever seen. Despite your laugh leaving him in some kind of trance. Ignoring the way your voice sounds. Disregarding how kind you seem from afar. Nevermind the way you walk, the things you wear— and how the first time he saw you, you were in a skin-tight blue dress-

Gojo’s jaw drops a little, “Oh fuck,” His voice is already breathy and his hand has found its way to his aching cock, groping himself through his clothing.

He looks down at himself all over again, body hot and breath unsteady already. He swallows thickly and finally lets out a groan before moving to tug his cock out, watching how it slaps against his abdomen and letting out another heavy breath of air.

Gojo moves his hands to his thighs and just gazes at his cock for a moment, seeing how it twitches so desperately-, desperately for you, and how his tip is leaking with precum already. Hell, it look like he came already, cum leaking down along his dick so lewdly.

What would anyone think if they found him like this…

One of his hands moves to grab his journal and he flips to the page with your pictures on it. He shouldn’t do this. This is wrong-

A whine slips past his lips the second his eyes are met with your face. Then his fingers are wrapping around his shaft and he’s jerking himself off without second thought. “Fuuck,” He moans, tossing his head back with his lower lip beginning to tremble already.

His hand was working the length of his dripping cock furiously, back arching ever so slightly in pure desperation and utter need. Oh how he wished it was your hand here instead of his. Fuck, what would your mouth feel like? Hell, how are you during sex? Are you the submissive type? Would you let him have his way with you? Fuck that pretty mouth of yours like he wishes to?

Or are you the more dominant type? Would you have his legs shaking from sucking him off? You probably would. He can only imagine what your lips would look like wrapped around his cock— already wet with spit and dribbles of his cum. Your face would probably be all messy but you might like that kinda thing, right?

Gojo whines, his eyes flickering and hand not slowing for even so much as a second. Shit, your mouth is probably heavenly but what would your pussy feel like? How wet would you get for him? Would you take him all in one go? Beg him to fuck you faster?

Fuck, would you get on top of him? Take control? Ride him til’ he’s the one begging you to stop? Again, Gojo moans into the air, a few times actually. His wrist rotates as he fists his needy cock, veiny length aching for anything from you.

He wonders if you’d want him to talk you through it. Or if you’d talk him through it. Would you be mean? Nice? Fuck, his thoughts are driving him crazy. In all honesty, he’d consider himself a complete slut for you. He’d do whatever you wanted him to.

Gojo ends up shifting, moving to hunch forward as he grows a bit overwhelmed. “Fuck, fuck-,” He gasps and chokes out a whimper of your name. Would you let him be some little slut for you? Because he would be, with zero hesitation. “Fuck me,” Gojo mumbles, watching as his cock twitches in his hands.

You’d probably praise him, wouldn’t you? Tell him how good he’s doing for you, encourage him to keep going-, or maybe you’d do the exact opposite. Perhaps you would degrade him.

Gojo’s eyes roll back at the mere imagination of you ever degrading him, calling him pathetic for being like this, a slut for shamefully jerking off to you, or even a bitch-

He’s cumming before he even realizes he is, moaning and moaning after the thought of you ever calling him such a thing. He doesn’t even know why that turned him on so much, he’s never been into that kinda thing before but when it’s you, shit… he can’t even control himself.

Messing up his hand, groaning out your name, moving to stand up with shaky legs, and continuing as his cock doesn’t go down. Then Gojo looks at the picture of you again, aligning his cock with the image and stroking himself angrily. He cannot believe himself right now but it’s much too late to care.

The damage is beyond done as he starts moaning again, small whines of fuck leaving his wet lips over and over the more he stares at your picture. Then he’s thrusting his hips into his hand, moving his free hand to grab ahold of the desk in front of him as if to brace himself.

Gojo heaves as he gets himself off. Tears well up in his eyes and he just knows he sounds so stupidly desperate right now, moaning, groaning, whining, and even whimpering for you whilst he fucks his fist. Eventually closing his eyes, he imagines you there with him, mentally illustrating the way your face would twist up every time he thrusts his cock deep inside you.

He could make you feel so fucking good if you ever let him. He’d treat you so well, give you anything and everything under the sun, make sure there’s always a smile on your face, and prioritize your needs over his own at all times.

By that point, he’s chanting your name in mindless little whispers, feeling his balls ache before the tip of his cock spurts out thick and hot ropes of cum— all over that same picture he’d been staring at.

Left panting, Gojo had to deal with the aftermath of his high. His eyes were slow to open and when he realized he came all over one of his pictures of you, he was even more disgusted with himself.

It took him a moment to gather himself after his actions but when he finally does, he cleans the filthy mess he’d made of himself and that damn photo before closing his journal and putting it away— telling himself he’d never do that again.

—---

Although, his little declaration didn’t last very long. A week later and he was jerking off with you in mind yet again. The same guilt and disgust follow afterward and Gojo tells himself he needs something else to put his focus on that’s not you.

Like his job for example; babysitting. What better to put his mind on to distract him from the way his mind, body, and soul crave you so desperately?

With that in mind, Gojo started with his scheduling. As time stood, he had roughly three different kids he babysat on a regular basis, all of which were looked after separately but looked after nonetheless. The first was a girl, whose name was Nobora. She was rather bratty in Gojo’s opinion but he didn’t mind, he liked how having her around reminded him of having that of a little sister.

Then there was Megumi, a child who so clearly hates him but is forced to be around him anyway. That hatred got even worse when the kid broke his leg while on Gojo’s watch— an event in which Gojo will forever find strange because the two were at a park and he swears he looked away for two seconds only to hear screaming moments later by nearby children.

By the time he made it to Megumi, his leg was broken and Gojo was to blame.

Aside from that, the last kid that Gojo found himself watching over sometimes was Itadori Yuji. Now this, this is where things got interesting.

For starters, Gojo never understood why he was hired to watch over Yuji when the kid had a perfectly capable older brother to do so. Then again, he didn’t question it once he saw he got paid quite handsomely for it.

Sometimes Gojo went over to the Itadori residence and others he picked Yuji up. Either way, the number of times Gojo encountered Sukuna was rather slim. They only ever interacted when it was time for payments to be made. Outside of that, Gojo knew little of Sukuna (his school reputation for being a major partier aside).

Any other information he got from the man came from Yuji, who Gojo would randomly question every now and then. Though, Yuji never spoke much about his older brother— only that he’s a bit short-tempered. Given that, Gojo had no reason to think twice about their family or relations at all.

Even when Yuji would appear with a bruise or two, Gojo didn’t put two and two together until it was much too late. The first few bruises, Yuji said he got them from playing around too much and falling, to which Gojo believed since he’d seen how clumsy Yuji could be firsthand.

As such, this went on for weeks and weeks but the day Gojo finally started realizing something was up, was the same day in which he’d finally meet the consequences for his previous actions.

On that day, before Yuji was dropped off to be babysat, Gojo was busy making vows to himself. The first being that he’d finally man up and fucking talk to you. He doesn’t really know what finally came over him but he felt as though it was time. Something, perhaps the universe, told him that after today— he’d grow some balls and hold a genuine conversation with you. 

Only a few days ago had he learned from Shoko that you now resided with her so things were going to be rather easy. There was about a week and a half of summer left, giving Gojo some time to not only talk to you but also get to know you firsthand.

His self-revelation came about after he reread every journal entry he had of you, jotting down one final entry of how he planned to talk to you. It was supposed to be casual, he would ask for your number, become friends with you, and go from there based on whether or not you showed any attraction toward him.

With such plans in mind, Gojo thinks it is safe to say that his obsession is finally being tamed. He was getting in control of it after having had such lewd thoughts of you multiple times within the past month and making entries of how he was left feeling in his journal.

That may have been what his last straw was— the whole pervertedness of it all. He was getting weirded out by it himself. Maybe once he started talking to you, his obsession would completely die down. Perhaps the reality of you would help ground him from this fictional high he’s had himself on ever since his obsession was born.

Though, it seems the world finds humor in the suffering of people and Gojo was forced to learn this the hard way.

Of course, as soon as he tells himself he’s gonna clean up his act and do what’s right, his punishment shows up in the form of a person who finds joy in watching others struggle. This person is none other than Sukuna himself, who shows up at the worst time imaginable.

Amid pure stupidity and thoughtlessness, Gojo quickly found himself in a situation in which could not be undone.

—-

After babysitting Yuji for maybe two hours, there was a knock on Gojo’s front door. Yuji sat on the living room couch, watching some cartoons as he swung his feet back and forth. Gojo was in the nearby kitchen, journal in hand before he went to answer the door.

That wonderful journal of his was left sitting on the kitchen counter, right in the open for anyone to see. 

That aside, when Gojo opened his front door, he was met with Sukuna. The two barely even greeted one another before the tatted man reminded Gojo it was payment day. The transaction was meant to be done inside so, Gojo allowed Sukuna to enter the apartment.

Yuji hardly glanced over to the two men before Sukuna nodded his head back, silently telling the kid to go ahead and make his way to the car. With no argument, Yuji sighed and grabbed what little of his things before he walked over to the two, briefly said bye to Gojo, and then made his way outside.

Gojo was going to question why Sukuna let the kid go out by himself like that but, he’s made his mistakes of asking too many questions in the past and has suffered the consequences. Not wanting to deal with a mouthy Sukuna, Gojo remained quiet until Yuji was gone.

Phones were pulled out and the two men moved to make that transaction of theirs. Sukuna had strange tendencies and rules, one of them being that Yuji wasn’t allowed to be present for what Sukuna considered adult business. It was something Gojo didn’t understand but, nothing crazy to really bat an eye at.

Just before Sukuna gets ready to send the money to Gojo— something in which he requires Gojo to be present to make sure nothing goes askew, Gojo starts noticeably squirming all over the place.

Sukuna raises a brow, “Fucks wrong with you?”

“Gotta use the bathroom,” Gojo huffs out without moving from where he stands.

The pink-haired man tilts his head, “Then go use the bathroom? I’m not gonna leave without paying you so relax.”

Gojo stands there a mere moment longer, contemplating a few things. The transaction could’ve been done by now but he felt like he was two seconds away from embarrassing himself so he just let out a long sigh before running off to the nearby bathroom. Thus leaving Sukuna standing there alone.

Now, Sukuna doesn’t consider himself to be a nosy person— he could usually care less about what others had going on in their lives unless it affected or entertained him. And where Gojo’s concerned, he honestly did neither at the time. He was just Yuji’s babysitter so Sukuna didn’t see much interesting about the guy.

That was, until he took his time alone to glance around Gojo’s apartment. Sukuna’s eyes wandered, studying the plain attempts at decoration and how utterly unstructured Gojo’s apartment appeared to be. Well, aside from some spots, it was rather clear that two people were living here, one more cleanly than the other.

Even so, Sukuna remained uninterested until he spotted a single book on the nearby kitchen counter. His eyes narrowed and he found himself surprised someone like Gojo would ever pick up a book. Again, the two knew little of one another aside from whatever school reputations they had— Gojo being known as some praying fuckboy and Sukuna being known as some hotheaded party-thrower. One could’ve assumed that the two would get along considering how their interests seem to align.

With that being said, Sukuna found himself walking toward this book without a second thought. The cover was completely blank and he realized it wasn’t a book at all. It was a journal.

Intrigued, Sukuna picks it up and does nothing more than pick a page at random to see if he’d find anything amusing, perhaps something to taunt Gojo with. Y’know, something to get a laugh out of.

The very last thing Sukuna expected to see was a page with a picture of some girl on it in the middle, surrounded by rather… creepy depictions of the woman. Details on the clothing in the picture, how much it cost, where to find it, depictions of where the woman went on that day, whether or not she seemed happy or sad, how many times Gojo heard her laugh-

Sukuna found himself disturbed instantly as he skimmed over the page. Though, not enough to stop him from turning the page. It seemed that such a creepy entry was one of many. Although, the first page he saw was definitely the creepiest. What ended up becoming the cherry on top was when Sukuna read over the fact that Gojo’s never spoken to you.

At that point, Sukuna scoffed, finding Gojo nothing but a fool for writing about a woman in such a way without ever talking to her. With dates, times, etcetera, Gojo had a ridiculous number of entries on this woman, so much so that it actually left Sukuna both curious and… entertained.

So when the sound of Gojo coming out of the bathroom hits Sukuna’s ears, he doesn’t even flinch or attempt to act like he wasn’t looking through the journal. Instead, Gojo walks out of the bathroom and finds Sukuna with the item in his hands.

It was at that very second that Gojo felt his heart sink to his goddamn toes. His eyes went wide and he froze in his steps, Sukuna not even so much as glancing away from the journal in his hands.

Gojo swallowed the overwhelming lump in his throat and attempted to say something-, anything, “What-”

“My my, what a fucking pervert you are,” Sukuna hummed enthusiastically, finally flicking his maroon gaze up to a dumbfounded Gojo. “This is disgusting, really. I mean,” Sukuna glances back down and smiles, “You love this woman and you’ve never even spoken to her?”

All wide-eyed and practically speechless, Gojo fumbles for a way to explain himself, “I-”

“And you fantasize about fucking her quite often,” Sukuna scoffs, tongue seeping out to lick his lips for a moment, “I can see why but shit… You’re a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“You-,” Gojo cocks his head back and blinks, the slightest mention of Sukuna taking interest in your appearance causing him to go right back to that not-so-rational state of his. Blinded by a deep obsession toward you, Gojo is slow with his words, “...You can see why? The hell does that mean-”

“She’s sexy, I get it. I see the lil’ pictures of her you’ve put in here,” Sukuna comments nonchalantly, “And yet, what I don’t get is this uh,” He clicks his tongue and smirks, “Obsession you have with her. Especially without talking to her? That’s…” He trails off for a second, his expression fading into something Gojo can’t quite read.

Gojo gulps and again attempts to defend himself, “I know it’s weird, I… I told myself I’m going to stop-”

“When?” Sukuna interrupts, voice rough, “When you’ve already got her wrapped around your finger and refuse to let her go because of the attachment you’ve created?” He questions the man almost as if he’s speaking from… experience.

“W-What?” Gojo’s brows push together. He never had any intentions of manipulating you in any shape or form, “No, I-”

“Would you tell her how you’ve been stalking her for months-, shit maybe even years based on some of these entries?” The way Sukuna takes a step toward Gojo lets him know that something about this seems to bother the pink-haired man.

“I haven’t been stalking her, I just-”

Sukuna looks down at the open page, “‘I especially liked how happy she looked today, when she smiles, she blinks about five times and when she laughs, it doubles.’ What sane man writes this shit about a woman he’s never spoken to, huh?”

“Sukuna just…” Gojo sucks in a crisp breath of air and attempts to plead with the male in front of him, reaching his hand out for his journal, “Just pretend like you never read that a-and give me the-”

“Aht aht,” Sukuna’s quick to swat his hand away and he nearly laughs at the way Gojo frowns frustratedly, “Did you really think I wouldn’t keep this little gem? Hm? See, you must be a bit confused about how this is about to go.”

For a moment, Gojo just stares. He never imagined this would happen. Hell, he wasn’t exactly careful with his journal but the last thing he expected was for Sukuna to pick the damn thing up. Fuck, he should’ve never left it on the counter. 

He lets out a sigh and his voice is small, laced with fear, “...Are you gonna tell her?”

“Am I gonna tell her?” Sukuna simply bursts out laughing, “Ha! What do I look like to you? Some simple-minded fool? No, I’m not gonna tell her.”

Gojo lets out the most thankful sigh of relief, “Thank fuck-”

“You are,” Sukuna states.

And at those words, the room goes silent. So silent that one could hear a pin drop. Gojo felt as though his blood ran cold and Sukuna had this overly smug look on his face.

It was from there on out that Gojo was set to face the consequences of his actions.

mlist || previous || next

tags 1/4; @lavnederr @stopmila @chelsea14 @hillmiaxoxo @choso-enthusiast

@chososdisciple @suguruologist @mitzkooni @annananamin @jakeywon

@thvema @uranometrias @gigiipeaches @isawrd @bored--boring

@soonyoung-park @oidloid @you-make-skz-stay @haesify @paintedcans

@deljojeisbackagain @heeheeswifey @s-kateboardcat @kaalyomi @rilxigh

@win2xsgf @diana4l @angelsleepinggurl @aselvaticotaku @livvyluvsyouu

@tadabzzzbee @buglikeangell @sukunadckrider @todod0kii @mua-for-now

@dazaiswaifuartisan @bee3l0v3r @blkpotionss @cranberrycosmos @cawwotta

@chosomi @gentle-roxyboo @teonawrites @interludered @wannabeotaku

@earthytreeswithc @tapinz @attackonjacksons @hovogliadisogni @hoebuns

[lace-coffin]

Slasher kinks headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Minors DNI

Slashers x gender neutral! reader

Trigger warnings : consensual non consent (cnc), blood, degradation/humiliation, kidnapping? (Only for Asa)

Kinks: general rough sex, bdsm dynamics, daddy/mommy kink, humiliation/degradation, knife play, primal/prey & predator play, praise, sex whilst ovulating/on period, medical play, topping from the bottom, anal, face fucking, face slapping, spanking/punishment, breeding, knotting, hucow kink, phone sex, the list goes on

did anyone request this? No. Am I going to make u all look at it bc I’m a horndog? Absolutely

I will be writing a top/bottom section for every slasher! No gentials will be mentioned for reader (hole is used to be neutral) but strap/cock will be used in relation to the reader topping.

Michael will also have an extra t4t section for my friend bc there isn’t enough t4t Michael < 3

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas isn’t super experienced in sex before he meets you, infact you’re his first partner. Obviously he knows some of the ins and outs (pun intended) from his own teenage curiosity and hormones. He also might have stolen Atleast one of Hoyt’s porno magazines before now.

Tommy would become more confident in taking the lead once he knows what you like a little more, then he’d be ok trying other positions and bottoming sometimes. Stuff in the beginning might be pretty slow and steady but after you’ve been together a while it can get a lot more intense.

Definitely has a breeding kink, has a dream of having a big family with you and raising them on the farm to continue the Hewitt name. Something about seeing his seed leak from your abused and puffy hole makes him want to breed it into you harder. Tell him you want him to make you a mommy/daddy/parent (even if it’s not biologically possible) and you’ll be manhandled into a mating press until he feels he’s filled you up enough for it to take.

In the same way it makes him feel so pretty and desirable if you tell him your going fuck a baby into him, he doesn’t care if it’s not technically possible, tell him your going to knock him up and keep him round with your seed, he’ll be moaning around your cock/strap like a slut. Push your fingers into his mouth to give him something to keep quiet on : )

Hucow kink! Loves it whether he’s the one submitting or dominating! Let him lead you around the barn with a cute cowbell collar and cow ears on! Loves to include chest play, no matter what gender (or lack there of) your chest he loves grope it, abusing your nipples until they’re swollen/hard and sensitive, don’t worry though, he’ll be more than happy to lave over them to lessen the sting. If your a good little heifer he’ll shove you face first onto a hay bale, pounding you until your hole is gaping and cum is leaking from it into the rough hay <3

If Tommy is being submissive in this situation he’s super eager to please! Tie him up and Milk his cock over and over until he’s actively squirming away from your hand and groaning in overstimulation. He’s a good boy though and knows his place so he won’t break the binds even if it would be easier for him than most people. Humiliate him and make him moo/beg for your cock/strap! Fuck him whilst using his horns as a grip.

Bubba sawyer

Like Tommy bubba is also inexperienced, raised under Drayton’s view that it’s “sex or the saw”. Due to this Bubba viewed sex as a betrayal of his family, being told it was only there to distract you from what’s important. Please be patient with her and reframe her view of sex, let her know she’s not dirty or immoral for having needs and desires.

Once they know more and gain more experience they’re super eager to impress! Litterally goes down on you like it’s their job. You might have to tap out after a few orgasms because he could drink you down for hours. He’ll leave you shaking and leaky and just look up at you with a happy smile on their cum smeared face.

He loves praise and to know that she’s doing a good job, tell them that they make you feel so good in a way no one else can. Don’t be afraid to get a little more rough with your language however, he loves when you compliment how his cock stretches you just right or how he’s made to take your strap/cock. It feels so taboo for them and makes them squirm.

Absolutely loves it if you use feminine names for her in bed. Doll/baby/princess. Makes him feel so pretty and cared for! Play with bubbas tits, they have an ample chest to paw at 👀 will absolutely mewl into the bedsheets and press their tits further into your hands. Loves to be called mommy! It lets them know you feel safe and comfy with them.

Jason voorhees

Jason is another slasher with a skewed view on sex, his mother taught him it was sinful and the reason for his death, but surely anything he does with the person he loves that feels this good can’t be wrong. Encourage him and let him know it’s ok to fulfill his need and he’s not dirty or wrong for it!

Jason is happy to let you take the lead most of the time considering his inhuman strength, he doesn’t want to hurt you and would feel more comfortable if you took things at your own pace, not wanting to get too excited and manhandle you too much (not that you would mind in the slightest). He’s also not opposed to the sight of you on top of him.

He loves it when you take control, using his cock like it was made for you, draining it for all it’s worth. He loves to know he’s the one making you feel good and he’s the one you love. Praise him and tell him how good he’s doing, that he knows all your favourite spots and can make you fall apart. let him know you own his cock and you’ll do whatever you want with it (with consent obviously)

Despite this, if Jason’s had a bad day with trespassers escaping or traps breaking on him he may be inclined to storm through the front door and pin you to the nearest service, spearing you on his thick cock and leaving you dripping without warning or mercy.

Jason will be open to bottoming over time once his confidence in being intimate has improved and he feels less anxious about trying new things. He’ll still need a lot of encouragement to relax but once he does he’s happy to let you take care of him. Hold his hand as you stretch him open on your fingers, exploring parts of Jason he didn’t even know were an option. He gets a little addicted to the feeling of being used, fucking into him with reckless abandon. You can be rougher with him when topping because of his inhuman nature, thrust a toy or finger in his ass along side your cock/strap, he can take it. He doesn’t have much of a gag reflex due to being undead so fuck his face to your hearts content as long as you wipe his tears and drool for him and tell him what a sweet boy he is for you!

Jason’s very sweet with aftercare, making you a warm drink and cleaning you both up with a wet rag, he appreciates if you do the same for him, maybe bring him his cherished teddy bear to ground him until he feels less floaty.

RZ! Michael Myers

Michael may be quiet but he’s very forward and unashamed with the things he wants. Don’t expect Michael to be shy when it comes to needing you. He’ll silently wrap around you from behind, grinding his need into your behind no matter the time or place, although he’ll back off if you tell him no, he’ll pout and let out a grunt of understanding, leaving to deal with it himself if your not in the mood.

Michael is more relentless in topping when he’s come back from a hunt, the adrenaline quickly turning to arousal as he smears the still slightly warm blood over your lips.

I defiantly think Michael enjoys CNC (consensual non consent). He hasn’t had a lot of control over things in his life considering he spent most of it in Smith’s Grove unable to even dictate the most simple aspects of it. He likes the total power exchange and the control he has over you as you squirm underneath him. It really riles him up if you fight back, biting him until he bleeds and thrashing so he can hold you down even harder. Michael loves to silence your pleads with his knife, running the dull side of it over your flushed and tear laden cheeks, moving it down to your throat as a warning.

(Will absolutely make you suck the handle of his knife until your eyes are teary before stuffing as much of it as he can into your man cunt. If you don’t want to Accidently cut your thighs then you better lay still and take it like a good boy.)

To add onto this I think he enjoys cnc on the receiving end to, if he wants to submit he wants to be dominated completely and wholly without mercy (safewords in place obviously). Michael likes to be handled roughly and shown that even if he is The Shape that you can break him down into a drooling mess. He’s 90% legs but Lord does he get insanely hard when you fold those long legs in half and drill him into the bed with your cock/strap.

(Hold him down and strip him of his coveralls and boxers, eat his pussy before he can even get a chance to steady himself. Manhandle him into position and rut your cunt into his, ignoring his pleasure and using him to get off selfishly. He’ll look at you dumbly and fucked out after, long hair frizzy and a mess of slick on his thighs)

Pull him aside and use him whenever you want, if he rolls his eyes or acts bratty feel free to slap him around! He loves a firm smack on the cheek when he won’t open up more than he likes to admit, he likes to feel powerless under you.

Michael would totally be into predator/pray with him playing the predator. Stalking you through the woods or the empty streets of Haddonfield with his trusted knife. He’s not worried about you being in any actual danger because he’s the bulk of danger in the town anyway. he has no doubts that should someone try get the best of you in the dark he could take care of them and not break a sweat. He stalks you through the town loving the way the your pace picks up the longer it takes for him to strike. He knows it’s inevitable, there’s no where you could go that Michael won’t find you. Don’t expect to make it home once he corners you, you’ll be pushed against or bent over whatever surface is nearest and having his cock bullied into you.

(Michael would grab you and slam you against a tree once he had you cornered, making quick work of his zipper and underwear. T-dick engorged with arousal and want, lips glistening behind the dense brown hair. He pushes you to your knees and gets to work. You will be spending the next while with your mouth and fingers pressed against Michael’s cunt, your head jerked harder and more forcefully the closer he gets)

Billy lenz

Billy is also very forward with what he wants as we can see from the movie, though I do personally headcanon that Billy is hypersexual due to his trauma so sex can go either one of two ways. Either he’ll be super into it and eager or ashamed and feeling disgusted with himself, if it’s the latter please reassure him it’s not dirty or wrong and try distract him with something else.

This couldn’t be a Billy lenz kink post without phone sex. He loves to call you up when your busy (shopping, on a walk, at work) and spew filth down your ear, telling you all the things he’s going to do to you or that he’ll let you do to him. The riskier the location the better. Sometimes he’ll even already be touching himself, mewling down the receiver like a slut for you to come home.

To add onto this I think he’d have a kink for fucking you whilst you talk to someone on the phone, giggling as he nudges his dick against the perfect spot, making you keen into the speaker.

Billy loves dirty talk on either end, whether it’s him telling you how he’s going to choke you on his fat cock or you telling him how good he feels inside you and to cum inside. He adores degrading you, making you feel like a cum dump. He’ll taunt you, telling you you’re only good to warm his cock and get him off, making you sniffle and repeat it back to him for his own satisfaction and ego.

He occasionally thought about the possibility of bottoming from time to time before meeting you but brushed it off since he’s not super familiar with it and didn’t want to meet up with a stranger to try. That didn’t stop him from experiencing with a finger or two but he wasn’t informed and didn’t use lube so it wasn’t good lol.

All this changes after you mention it one night in bed, excited but nervous Billy accepts. It turns out he’s a complete bottom bitch, such a slut any time you can get him under you, he’ll moan without holding back not caring if the other sorority members hear. He doesn’t care whether you’re pounding into him with his face smashed into the covers like a whore or if he’s riding you greedily, he loves it anytime he can have your cock/strap in him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is incredibly needy and intense, inexperienced but excited to get as close to you as humanly possible. He may come off a little bratty and demanding but he’s completely willing to wait until you’re ready, he’d never do anything you didn’t want. When you are ready it’s all hands on deck, Brahms wants you all the time at any time.

It doesn’t matter if you’re impaled on his cock or if your burried inside him, Brahms is just happy to be close and horny lol

Absolutely has a mommy/daddy kink (dude has crazy mommy issues). He enjoys it when you take the reins for him and tell him what to do, order him about, tell him how to please mommy/daddy just the way they like. You already have quite the control over him in your daily life anyway, telling him what to do and when, making sure he follows his rules. Talk Brahms through how to ride your shaft/strap, make him slow down and speed up whenever you feel like it for your own enjoyment, ignoring his pleas to fuck him properly.

Brahms is horny pretty often, as a result of this penetrative sex isn’t always a need. He loves having free use of you, fucking your thighs until he spills all over them or grabbing your hand and rutting against it whilst you read a book in the other.

Spanking! Nothing puts unruly little boys back in their place like beating their ass until they beg you to stop, all of Brahms’s brattiness seems to disappear once he knows he’s pushed it to far and has a punishment coming his way. He’ll cry and beg you to change your mind but it’s too late, bend him over your lap and rip his trousers down. If he’s been extra ill-behaved bring out the paddle, switching cheeks and making him count until his ass has a pretty pink flush to it.

Asa Emory

Asa demands to be in control, that much is clear and that translates over into bed too. You might have met Asa organically through his university lectures or a museum, if this is the case then you will still be with him under the guise of a 24/7 power exchange relationship. If you met him via kidnapping and was taken to the hotel to be a pet then this will still be expected of you but with the addition of being experimented on/tortured for his own satisfaction. You won’t have a say on your freedom. (I’m going to be writing it from the perspective your kept at the hotel as a pet because it’s more likely)

Asa gets a sick thrill out of treating you like a dog. Fucking you whilst gripping the leash wrenched around your neck until you’re wheezing for air. He’ll make you bark for his cock just to laugh at how pathetic and needy you are, humiliating yourself so you can get your hole stuffed, disgusting. Paw mitts and belts on the thighs/calfs are used to make you practically immobile, totally reliant on him to fulfill your needs and unwilling to do so until he’s broken you down into a sobbing panting mess.

Even when bottoming Asa takes control, barking orders at you about how he likes to be fucked, faster, deeper. You better not even think about cumming without permission or you won’t be cumming again for the next few days whilst he uses your cock/strap like a sex toy. Asa pulls you by your hair as you eat his ass, choking/slapping you if you’re not doing it to his liking. At the end he’ll spit in your mouth and make you say “thank you sir”, forcing your jaw open to make sure you swallowed it all down and patting you on the cheek as a reward.

Medical play is a favourite of his. He enjoys nothing more than stripping you naked and strapping you down to the chilly metal medical table, securing your wrists to the wrist clamps. Snapping on his black latex (unless you’re allergic to latex lol) gloves Asa will dissect you bit by bit. New toys are regularly incorporated to see if he can get a different reaction from you. This can be through pain or pleasure, they’re both the same to him. Clamping your nipples and pulling them until they’re red and sore or landing slaps on your hole for squirming too much. Writing your reactions down on his clipboard and looking at you as nothing more than one of his specimens to pull apart and observe. If he notices a reaction he hasn’t seen from you before he’ll try again and again to recreate it no matter how taxing that may be on your body. Speculums are a favourite of his, prying open and inspecting your most private parts, pressing his fingers or different toys in to see how you react, spread hole twitching at the stimuli and unable to do anything about it. It feels intimate and violating in a way he loves to be able to look at your inner most parts so coldly and close up.

Yautja/predator (female and male)

Yautja are naturally pretty dominant in bed, the whole culture they live in revolves around shows of strength and resilience. Your mate thrives off taking care of all of your needs and proving themselves worthy and this is no different in bed. Always happy to satisfy your needs as your lover and the one who cares for you, your mate will come to help out any time they smell your arousal.

Female Yautja

Your mate naturally takes care of you in bed, a headstrong women who has earned her place on the higher end of society, because of this she loves to dress you up in the finest clothing and jewellery on Yautja prime, showing off her status and by proxy, yours. Don’t think you’re going to just leave the house in it though, she’ll pin you down, eyes taking in every part of you, the way the silky fabric lays across your centre, ready to be opened like a gift. The outfit will include a gold collar to match, one with her mark carved in it so everyone knows who you belong to. She may even take to fucking you in public if anyone tries to challenge her bond with you, your abused hole on display for anyone to see.

As your mate she trusts you to return the favour, however control isn’t given over that easily. You may be the one inside her cunt but she’s the one using you until your spent, a death grip on your collar as she looks down at you from on top, snarling in your face and a placing marking nips against your throat with her mandibles.

Once mating season rolls around she’ll be even more demanding, the instinct to mate and breed you at its peak. You’ll be kept in the nest of furs and fucked over and over. If you pass out? Not her problem, she’ll keep going until she’s satisfied your scented up and marked properly. She takes no brattiness during this time either, acting out or being difficult will earn you getting pinned to the furs, mandibles flared and snarling until you submit.

Male yautja

Another one I think would enjoy primal/predator play. Your mate stalks you through the jungle whilst cloaked. He knows your every exact move and you’re none the wiser. He loves how he can taste your fear in the air but he knows it’s all for show because he can taste you arousal permeating the dense tree’s too. He’ll appear out of nowhere just as your adrenaline reaches it’s peak and swipe your ankles, forcing you down to the leafy floor with him. He lets out a clicky laugh at the surprise scream you let out. Wasting no time he mounts you like an animal and ruins you again and again until your both spent.

Your mate can tell when you’re ovulating and he’s ecstatic to help. Blood is so common to him in his daily life it doesn’t phase him at all, he’s perfectly happy to get down and a little messy, you smell so sweet to him during this time. If this matches with his rutt then you aren’t leaving the bed for a few days, he’ll fuck into you mercilessly until his swollen knot pops inside you, connecting you both together. Once it deflates he’ll scoop his cum back up and push it into your hole, not wanting to waste a drop.

Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of, and you prove this by absolutely destroying him. Go feral, show him how much of a capable mate you are, wrestle him to the floor and ruin his hole, leave bites and marks on him to claim him. He’ll snarl the whole time and fight back but he loves it. He may even let you use a toy/strap with a knot on it to emulate being seeded and stuffed at the end.

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam (but no sexual content in this fic)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - You didn't work in the field. You did research. But when your good friend Bobby Singer asks you to help some friends of his by posing as a couple at a charity ball, you don't refuse.

W.C. 2.2k words

Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter, Shoot to Thrill - AC/DC

A.N. sam fic ! i am curvy so i was excited asf for this req !!! part 2 coming soon... ;) - claire xx

Being a Lore-keeper has its perks. It let you put your literary degree to some use, and it didn't usually get you into too much trouble. But, tonight it had. Bobby Singer was one of your favorite hunters; always treated you well, housed you in sticky situations, and sometimes had books or information you didn’t know about that he offered for you to borrow. Usually, he came to you for information. He didn’t hunt a lot, but it was still more than you hunted. But, when he and his hunter friends did go out looking for trouble, he often came to you for information. When he’d asked you to help out some of his family on a case that was real serious, you agreed begrudgingly. But only after Bobby told you your outfit, dinner, and drinks that night would be paid for by this said ‘family’ of his. 

You’d already done a bit of research for him about this particular case and even you knew it was a tricky one. You’d spent the last week trying to piece all of the information together — running it through your countless trusted lore books, sites you favored, and even paper clippings and newspapers from the library. The place in question was only a few hours from Bobby’s in some fancy estate you’d mapped out by memory the last few days. You were guessing it was your least favorite of the supernatural creatures you’d perilously studied — shapeshifters. They made your skin crawl, and were tricky when they came in multiple. The family you suspected they were impersonating were the Bradys, a rich family that had lived in South Dakota for generations and hosted fundraiser parties each year for some organization their rich friends ran. Some of the members of the family had been photographed partaking in some suspicious activity, activity of which the police deemed fine of course; but you were smart enough to know this was your type of problem. A few of them had also seemingly gone missing, and either mysteriously turned up fine, or were still a missing persons case. 

You decided to use Bobby’s as a place to get ready the second he offered, he lived closest anyways. You thought it was best to come over in the morning to talk more to him and whoever you were going on the case with, plan everything out. He’d been vague about who it was, though, and when you walked inside and saw Sam and Dean Winchester holding suits, a shopping bag, an EMF reader, and a pack of Coronas, you knew why. 

You’d never given the boys information directly — Bobby had told you he relayed much information from you to them in tricky cases, but that the older one, Dean, was too prideful to ask you directly yet. Of course, like all male jackass hunters, he had eventually asked when he learned what they were dealing with and all the intricacies that you were extremely skillful in. The catch was that you hated field work, but also loved an excuse to get dressed up. You’d told Bobby your dress and shoe size, and sure enough, the taller one was holding a dark velvety blue dress over his arm. 

“y/n, this is Sam, and this is Dean.” The shorter one, though he towered over you still, stuck out his hand, that jackass smirk on his face you knew he’d have. 

“Heard a lot about you.” He spoke, the smirk still on his, admittedly handsome, face.

You didn’t like having your guard up. You hated it really, but being in your line of work and constantly dealing with men who dismissed your intelligence made you rightfully put up walls when you’d first meet them. 

“Heard a lot about you too, but don’t think that means I’m your best friend now. I’m doing this for Bobby.” 

The taller one smiled gingery, letting out a silent laugh watching Dean’s ego deflate. You turned to him, sticking out your hand. “Sam. Nice to meet you. And uh, thanks for coming out on this case, Bobby said field work isn't usually your thing so we really appreciate it.” You already preferred him. A lot, actually. He was tall, and looked way too fucking cute in that oversized brown hoodie he still had on despite being inside Bobby’s fairly warm home. 

“We’re taking off at five so we’ll be right on time, okay?” Dean said to the two of you, rolling his eyes at how you hadn’t made any sassy comments at his brother. 

“Sounds good. May I have my items, gentleman? I’m not doing this for free.” Sam smiled again, more noticeably this time, handing you the dress and shoes, and a purse, which you hadn't asked for but were not going to turn down. 

“Thank you. So, the game plan is…?” “Game plan is you and I pose as a date and distract people while Dean sneaks around and corners a couple shifters, ganks ‘em, and then we get out before all hell breaks loose.”

You shrugged, looking at Sam, “Sounds good to me.” Of course he was cute and smart. God, you usually never let some guy get between you and case work, but he was making it hard. But if all you had to do was pose as a couple…

“Wait. If you needed me for acting I don’t know why you couldn’t call someone else.” 

“We don’t know who's a shifter and who isn’t. That’s the problem. You know their tells, what makes them tick, how to trick them, the layout of the place. Bobby's got some ear pieces for all of us so you can help me from afar, don’t have to get your hands dirty.” Dean grunted, losing his dark leather jacket and grabbing a suit, heading to the bathroom to change. 

“How thoughtful,” you mused, and he smiled annoyingly at you.

“We’ll talk more in the car, okay? Just get ready and we’ll be here if you have any more questions.” Sam said softly. HIs voice was deep and smooth, and it made you want to grab him by his collar and lock the two of you in Bobby’s guest room. Instead, you opted for pushing your thighs together and clearing your throat. “Sounds good. Thank you.” He smiled, going into the guest room with his own suit. You opted to lock yourself upstairs in the bathroom blasting music while you did your makeup in order to pump yourself up. You were a bit nervous, but you didn’t have to do dirty work, you got a nice new outfit, hopefully a nice drink, and a hot date? This was much better than how you thought your night was going to go — curled up on the couch, looking through way too many old files and books for another hunter, playing an old movie in the background and wishing you were elsewhere. You liked your job, you really did. But sometimes it drove you crazy how little you saw other people, people your own age especially. Tonight was like a gift sent from the angels. Well, ones that you hadn’t met; so far they had all been dicks. 

“y/n, ya’ almost ready?” Dean called up, just as you finished styling your hair in a classy style. 

“Coming!” You came down the stairs in a navy dress that hugged your curves pretty well, you thought. The dress was pretty low cut and the sides came up at a slit high up on your right leg. You honestly felt exposed, you usually didn't dress like this. Sam still had your heels, and when you came down, the first thing you saw was his eyes on your legs, stopping him from tying up his shoes.

You heard a low whistle behind you, and Dean’s gruff voice, “Damn, you clean up nice.” Bobby smacked him over the head with the book he was reading, going to the kitchen to get you an earpiece he had for each of you. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You smiled, walking over to Sam on the couch. He was still occupied with your dress, and his eyes were making your face burn up. Your brain couldn't decipher how he was feeling based on his face… you teetered between him wanting to rip off your dress and stay home with you all night, or that he thought you looked…not good. You knew you didn't have skinny model legs, but that wasn't you job. Your job was to decode, translate, find, and relay important information to hunters, stopping people from dying. That was you job, and you were good at it. There was so much more to you than your looks, and if someone couldn't see that then fuck them. But, with how stuffy the room was and how close Sam was to you, you wrapped your arms around your shoulders, sitting a bit far from Sam asking for your shoes despite the voices in your head telling you you were fine.

“Y-yeah, here. I’ll put them on.” Your mouth opened to speak, but it was dry and nothing came out. Sam leaned down from the couch, sitting on his knees right in front of you. You finally stretched out your left ankle, and he slid on one of the black stilettos they'd picked out for you. He set down your foot after buckling the straps, grabbing your right ankle and moving it forward gently, causing the fabric of your dress to fall between your thighs on one side, and on the very back of your hip on the other, your leg completely bare. Sam finished tying up your second shoe, his eyes flashing to your soft thigh before clearing his throat and offering a hand to help you stand up. 

Once you were stable, you flattened down your dress. You looked up at Sam and pouted at how much taller he still was than you. 

“Aren’t these like…almost 4 inches?” Sam looked down at you and chuckled deeply. 

“Uh, yeah. They are. Disappointed you're still shorter than me?” You rolled your eyes and glimpsed over him — eyes trailing his fitted black suit, the fabric clinging to his chest and legs nicely.  

“What are you, like part giant? 7 feet tall?” You said it as a joke, but you honestly thought he had to be close to that. 

“Please,” Sam said, a bit close to your ear, leaning down to talk to you, “I’m…6’5. Just about.”

“Jesus…” you muttered, and realized you’d said it outloud. “Uh, we should get going soon, I think, it’s almost five, right?”

Sam nodded, squinting his eyes at your lower body so quickly you almost missed it. Dean put ear pieces in each of your hands and showed you how to use them. You followed the brothers out to their car and said bye to Bobby.

“Be careful, idjits. Keep in contact.”

“Will do.” You said, smiling to Bobby before getting in the back of the car, Sam opening and closing the door for you before sliding into the front seat a bit awkwardly from how long his legs were.  

“Ready?” Dean uttered, putting his elbow on Sam’s seat. 

“As ever.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, seeing Dean’s vividly green eyes through the rear view mirror. Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC came on, and Sam mused on your quiet singing.

“You like AC/DC?” Sam asked, turning around a bit to talk to you more clearly. 

“Yea, that, Metallica, some Guns N’ Roses, Rolling Stones....” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes, knowing Dean would have some stupid comment about that. 

“Really?” Dean spoke up, turning down the music a bit.

“Yes. Don’t cream your pants.” Sam smiled at that. It wasn’t super often that women Dean hit on shut him down as unreservedly as you did. 

“I know you got eyes for my idiot brother, but at least entertain me.”

“Okay. Who was the one that picked out the dress? And shoes? And purse?” You smirked at the back of Dean’s head. 

“Sammy…” Dean mumbled begrudgingly. 

“That's what I thought. Can you turn the music back up?” Dean’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He’d never had someone come in his car and tell him to do something like that, but he did so without saying anything. 

Hours passed, and the Impala rolled to a stop in front of the biggest most obnoxious house you’d ever seen. 

“Jesus. Showoff much?” Dean voiced from the front seat, unbuckling and stepping out. Sam followed, opening your door before you got the chance. 

“So civilized.” You said poshly, seeing that adorable smile you liked seeing on Sam’s beautiful face. 

“Alright. You two go inside first. Use the earpiece to tell me when you know where one is, tell me which way to go. We don’t know each other, got it? You got your fake, y/n?” said Dean.

“My what?” Sam handed you an ID with a photo of your face, but it didn’t say your name. “How many of these do you guys have? Actually, don’t answer that.” Sam held out his right arm and you slid yours under his. He began walking, taking large spread out steps. You saw his face flash, knowing he realized you were struggling to keep up; not just from your heels, but from his obnoxious height. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, again, with that deep, smooth voice close to your ear. Fuck. This is gonna be a hard night. 

[kkuzushi]

Aftercare scaramouche after that intense love making and then date? :00

..... And the "will you marry me" HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH— yes fluff yeseyssyeysyeyysysyeysjdutnd thank you for taking this :3

-🎐 anon

“ 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆..𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗱 ”

✦ characters: scaramouche x gn!reader

✦ cw: aftercare, fluff, rivals to lovers type of stuff, reader without cat allergies (I’m sorry TT)

✦ word count: 1.824k

✦ notes: My dearest 🎐anon is back with the banger requests. This was really fun to write (I finished at 3am) though I improvised on the “will you marry me” part since I wasn’t sure what you meant. <3

Part 1 | ✦ Part 2

Hours had passed since your productive activity with Scaramouche—the man had practically fallen asleep after cleaning up the mess with you. He’d go to his room as soon as the both of you are done, he said; He just needs to rest his legs for a moment, he said. Now you have the man laid on your bed, head resting on your lap while you occupied yourself with your studies yet again.

Thankfully, the sleepy brat did have some spare notes in his room and lended it to you, saying he just ‘owed you one’. You dared not to waste this opportunity, and luckily enough, his notes were actually pretty neat. It was easy to understand and precise with the topic.

And strangely enough, this moment is as serene as it could get. It’s been a while since you’ve felt at peace with Scaramouche in the same room. His hair sways gently in the breeze from the fan, framing his tired face. If it were before, you’d be tempted to slap him and ruin his sleep, but now, you simply adore how relaxing it is to be with him.

Your lips curled to a smile before turning to a flat line—You can’t think about Scaramouche like that! He’s still an infuriating prick; arrogant, immature, annoying.. and maybe a tiny bit tolerable when getting fucked—what?

Speaking of the devil, the man on your lap starts to stir awake, grumbling as his eyes open and adjusts to the light of your room. With that familiar scowl, he lifts his head up and sees your gaze fixated on the notes he had given you.

“You're still going at it, huh?” Scaramouche prompts with a groggy tone. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, trying to remember what happened right before he passed out, “How long have I been out..?”

“Just a few.. hours.”

“Hours?”

“Hours.”

“Ugh, I'm so tired.. and my ass hurts,” He complained, nuzzling your legs more though you didn’t point it out knowing it’ll just explode his stubborn head. “This is all your fault.”

“Oh?” You looked down, seeing him scowling at you, “Says the one who was moaning like a bitch in he–”

“I WAS NOT.” Scaramouche quickly interrupted your rebuttal, his face reddening quickly. “I was making perfectly normal sounds when making love to you.”

That almost made you laugh. “Make love? You have a funny way of saying sex,” You grinned, your gaze going back to your notes.

“It’s the same thing,” He rolled his eyes before adding an explanation, “Making love is just a better term, sex is too casual, fucking is too forward.” It was such an old-school term, you can’t believe it was coming from someone like him.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” You commented, browsing through the notes absentmindedly, “Should I be flattered? Or maybe you’re trying to impress me.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow and turned his head towards you from your lap. “Impress you? Pshh, that’s rich coming from someone who needed my notes to pass the same classes as me.”

Your eyes narrowed down to his expression, “Mind you that you were the one who also tore my notes apart.”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Whatever, my point still stands.”

The moment drops to silence—Scaramouche’s sarcastic comments were duller then usual, not irritating you to the point you’re both at each other’s throats. Maybe this ‘making love’ thing was getting to you too. Damn this man for being so confusing sometimes.

To surprise yourself even more, your hand travels to his head, stroking his hair that’s been messed up during his nap. He tensed a little before reluctantly leaning to your touch, the way his shoulder slumped was a telltale sign that this is comforting for him as well.

The thought slipped in before you could stop it—Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe you could try something… more.

“Hey,” Scaramouche started, clearing his throat before continuing, though it sounded more like he was contemplating. “Since we... made love,” he added, his voice growing quieter, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Maybe we should, I don’t know… do something. Together. Tomorrow.”

You paused, “Are you.. asking me out on a date?”

“Don’t make it weird!” He quickly snapped, getting out of your lap as if to get serious, “It just.. wouldn’t feel right to act like nothing happened.. after all we did tonight.”

That was weirdly sweet—Scaramouche not wanting things to be casual after ‘making love’? Maybe he really isn’t so bad after all.

“I suppose I can make time for you tomorrow..” You hummed, attempting to look indifferent though you can feel a smile trying to appear in the corner of your lips.

“Here we are..” Scaramouche says in front of a cat cafe-library. The fact he was the one to lead you here means he goes here often. Cute. And honestly? It wasn’t a bad choice for a first date.

“I didn’t know this was near our university,” You commented as you pushed the door open, the soft jingle of the bell above ringing inside as the both of you entered. “You must be here quite often, huh?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed, “I just figured you might like it here.” As soon as he gets beside you inside, a gray Scottish fold cat trotted over to him, nuzzling his legs as it meowed in an affectionate tone.

With a raised eyebrow, you smirked at the sight. “You don’t have to lie. No judgment if this is your go-to for weekends.” You teased, successfully flustering Scaramouche with the accusation. Then again, it’s not really an accusation if it’s true, right?

“I told you—it isn’t!” He grumbled, quickly shooing away the cat, the failed attempt only getting the cute creature to follow him as the both of you get to a comfortable corner—which, again, would be a telltale sign that he’s been here a lot.

“I bet the majority of the books here have your name signed on them already,” You continued, leaning back on the chair with a smug grin.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at you, his fingers drumming lightly on the menu over the desk. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Your grin widens as the same cat from earlier leaps on to his lap, the man instinctively scratching the pet behind its ears, “So you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“Of course you’re wrong,” Scaramouche replies with half of his attention, eyes glued to the cat, “I don’t sign every book I read, just the ones that are worth my time.”

Before you could retort with another teasing remark, Scaramouche calls for a waiter to take your orders. You simply chose the first thing you saw on the menu, while Scaramouche ordered his ‘usual’. He's really not pretending anymore, is he?

The waiter leaves as you both place your orders, the two of you engaged in a moment filled with purrs and meows. You watched him continue petting the cat, fingers scratching behind the ears or just brushing the fur from its body. His gaze meets yours, the scrutiny making him flustered quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking—and don’t flatter yourself just because you can see this side of me,” He mumbled, “Just call it damage control.”

“Damage control? Since when did you care about what I think?” You mused with a teasing tone yet with softened expression.

Scaramouche froze for a moment, his hand stilling on the cat’s fur. “I don’t.. but I do care about what would happen after last night.” The admission came out easily, so easy that even Scaramouche was surprised he could confess that to you.

“I see..” You nodded. The waiter came back with only Scaramouche’s drink—his drink being most likely prioritized since he’s a usual customer. Other than that, his drink was just black coffee. You almost forgot the same man you’re talking to isn’t fond of sweets. Once the waiter left, you continued your discussion with him.

“Then what would you want to happen after last night?”

“I’m.. not sure. I just know I don’t want things to be casual afterwards.”

Scaramouche took a sip of his coffee, the tension between you two was increasing and he doesn’t entirely dislike it. “What I’m saying is that it wouldn’t feel right to brush things off after making love with each other.”

You almost envied that he had something to drink while talking about this, it felt awkward to just sit there and take his point all in.

“You really are full of surprises,” You finally replied, resting your cheek on your palm as you leaned forward to the table. “What else should I know about you?”

He looks at you, considering whether your question was rhetorical or not. “I’m a date-to-marry kind of person.” Well that much wasn’t surprising, but it gave you another opportunity to tease him.

“Really? Are you saying you want to get married to me then?” Your familiar grin shows up on your lips again, the tension easing up as you watch Scaramouche gradually get flustered over your joke.

The man quickly snapped at your jest, “Don’t be ridiculous! That’s not–” His voice trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue his rebuttal. “You’re impossible to have a proper conversation with.” He mumbled at the end.

It really seemed like you’re seeing a different side of your roommate, a side you didn’t think existed—especially not from a man that was either always frustrated or frustrating.

You burst into laughter, both from how adorable and hilarious his reaction is. “I’m kidding,” You say with a wide grin, “But I’d make a great spouse, wouldn’t I?”

“Gods forbid you to be self-aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scaramouche didn’t get to reply once the waiter had finally, finally, arrived with your order. As you took the moment to savor what you’ve gotten, the man in front of you smiled—not from just the sight of you enjoying your food, but most likely from your joke as well.

When your eyes returned to him, Scaramouche was already focused on the cat in his lap again. It made you wonder—if he liked the cat so much, why not adopt it? The cat seemed to like him just fine, after all.

Your eyes shifted around the place, seeing multiple cats lounging or playing with other customers. “Are cat adoptions allowed in this place?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Your question makes him pause for a moment before looking around for a paper that might indicate a solid answer. “I think so, why?”

You shrugged. “If you like that cat so much, we should adopt it.” The words lingered in Scaramouche’s mind. The fact that you said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’; It was a subtle shift, but enough to make the butterflies he’d been trying to drown with black coffee start fluttering again.

Scaramouche then cleared his throat, “So about our marriage..”

[triflesandparsnips]

So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--

Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).

BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:

Wednesday (before the end of the world)

So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.

But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.

The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.

SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.

But like-- still not friends. Not really.

Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:

Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.

My teenage brain exploded at this moment.

BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.

Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).

Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.

But Crowley was looking the other way.

Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.

But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".

And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:

With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.

SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--

It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.

Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.

...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.