#time to warm the dumpster

[andy-clutterbuck]

IGN | 2015

[sassy-cass-16]

*distant shouting from not-America*

if y'all keep going, Kevin McCarthy can lose the vote 69 times!!

[horrendousmustard]

kanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekikanekika

he has a rubber duck in his house and there’s 7 plants and he sings in the bath and he gets mad at Shachi for being old and if you whisper in his ear he won’t hear it because it would feel like the breath is tickling his ear and he’d be too busy focusing on not giggling

[sapphirecherry]

hell is r/supernatural actually

[ridingthatd]

𝐏✘𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

geto, gojo, nanami, sukuna, toji, choso...

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐏...

❝ this is a really kinky work about jjk man.

read at your own risk. ❞

there eyes were glued on you. never leaving you as they stroke their fat, leaking cocks painfully.

it was getos idea to show his friends how your sweet little pussy take his cursed orbs one by one so well.

the only sounds that filled the room was your heavy whines, moans. and the wet sound of your pussy sucking in every orb getos shoves inside you.

this is how you got here. being their cumdump.

a cum dumpster that's what you liked being called. that's what always had you squirting, over flowing with juice. that's what always had you drooling. mouth over flowing with your own sloppy spit- spit that was mixed with their warm cum that they stuffed inside your mouth.

you were choking struggling to keep their boiled seeds that filled your mouth from spilling- nanamis and tojis hot cum that they spilled directly under your tongue to keep you from swallowing it. tears running down your face as your whole body thrust upwards- reminding you of the two fat cocks that were gaping your tight pussy wide open. choso had you sat on his thick thighs, your back smashed into his chest. you can the hardness of his red, sensitive nipples rubbing against your back as he thrusts in.

while sukuna figure was in front of you. his rough hands holding your legs up, pushing then tightly close to your front body as his leaking cock throb inside of your pussy, close to chosos cock. rubbing against chosos cock with each slam of his hips. both of your legs were smashed close to your face, giving you no room to escape the two inhuman cocks that was ripping you apart. t

he feeling of being gaped open was to much- the feeling of their warm, sloppy cocks struggling to enter your tight pussy as it sucks them tightly in was to much. it was all to much that it had you sobbing, drooling and spilling the cum out of your mouth as you hiccup, forgetting about the order of keeping it stuffed in your mouth that they gave you.

your mind was foggy, eyes blurry with tears, your lips were parted, jaw hanging open as drool of spit and cum drips down. your ears were filled with sound of wet, sloppy noises your cunt and their cocks made. your whole body was shaking, trembling. you were so fucked out of it that you didn't feel the sharp sting of the slap that was just placed on your cheek causing your head to snap to the left. "

you fucking slut, who gave you the permission to spill it from your mouth". geto harshly growls out after he slapped your face with his rough hand. just to grab you roughly by your hair and force your face to meet his. but you weren't even lookin at him, eyes crossed focusing on the feeling of the two cocks inside of you.

gojo laughs out loudly. "pathetic little slut to drunk off cocks to even look at you". toji chuckles before he swipe his thumb on your bottom lips, scooping the cum you spilled and shoving it into your mouth. he groans once you start sucking on his thumb immediately. he already came two times inside your little ass few minutes ago but he's still hard as rock.

your eyes shoot out of your head, your body trembles as you feel the curse orbs that geto placed inside your ass twirling around, consistently hitting your g-spot. you can feel the cum of gojo and geto that they spilled inside your ass sliding against the orbs making it more sticky and sloppy.

"s-suguru! no! no! no more please-" you sob out, you know geto was controlling them on purpose. he smirks as you sob out, pleading him to stop simulating you. "fuck! i can feel the juice of the orbs dripping from her ass". choso moans out, so close to squirt his own juice out just as close as sukuna was.

your eyes roll back as you feel robs of cum being shoot inside of you, choso burry his face into your neck, huffing like a dog. you can feel the heatness of his flushed face.

sukuna plugs his cock out of you, his eyes staring at the cum that spilled out of your pussy into the bed sheets in process. he scoffs before grabbing your face with his hand.

"lick it". his deep voice commands you to lick the cum that spilled off the sheets. you shakly get off choso, just to lean down and push your ass up into his face, choso groans as he starts eating your ass while your tongue peak out and suckle on the fabric of the sheets, trying to drink the cum that spilled in.

next thing you know, you are kissing sukunan, passing his cum from one mouth to another all while nanami leans in, close to abused, puffy pussy that was barely recognizable just to push your legs wide apart and spit on it. his eyes pierced on the way the string of spit lands on your swollen clit.

just to blow the smoke of his cigarette into your pussy. he takes the barely lightened cigarette and place it on your wet clit, causing you to feel a painful sting. you jerk away from sukuna and moan out before you squirt all over nanamis face. your juice spraying all over him.

after that all you can see was black.

tag list: @dellysrants @valentine-day-likes-rain @huboi @littleakuma28 @warrior-of-justice @reyyyyyleviii @fhvfgfuhhhbvhjn @neoxghoul @that-goth-bisexual @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @enhypen-scholarship @celcstia @xuanzangg @mamas-heart @vih-rodriguesz

[saotoru]

puppy love

ʚ puppyboy!leon kennedy x reader

ʚ word count: 2.1k

ʚ content warnings: fem reader. hybrids. no plot. scent kink. heavy dumbification. breeding kink. ruts. panty stealing + sniffing. implied 'virgin' leon. slight degradation (leon is called bad dog). reader wears a skirt. overstim. marking. praise kink. oral (f). crotch sniffing. masturbation (m). cum fucking. mentions of pregnancy. leon speaks in broken sentences.

minors do not interact

the last thing you expected to own was a puppyboy.

it was by pure coincidence that you had stumbled on him. he was a sad sight: huddled and shivering behind the dumpster in the alley next to your apartment. yeah, you didn’t want to own a pet, but could you really leave a stray out in the cold like that? so you took him in—‘leon,’ the name on his collar read—bathed, fed him, and gave him a place to sleep.

you showed him a kindness he's never experienced before; cold rain and hard surfaces are all he’s known his whole life, but you’re different. you’re warm and soft and sweet—everything he imagined the perfect owner to be.

so it’s no surprise how quickly he grew to love you. a lot.

but sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you.

because it'll be hours before you're home again, away at something called 'work,' before he can hug and lick and kiss you. the thought of waiting that long makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

leon lets out a sad whine for only the empty apartment to hear. he misses you.

some comfort is all he needs right now. he pads over to your room, where your scent is the strongest, and climbs on the bed to bury himself into your pillow. the smell of your shampoo fills his nose as he sniffs all over the fabric before digging his face in it, trying to drown in your scent and pretend it's you. for a moment, it works. he imagines burying his face in your tits like this, imagines you scratching behind his ears and calling him a good boy in that sweet voice of yours. his tail wags at the thought.

but... it's not enough. he grows restless—the pillow isn't warm. it doesn't pet his hair or kiss his forehead or tell him he's a good boy. it's not you.

another frustrated whine. he sits up, tail thumping on the bed, unsure of what to do. he needs more. something that will satiate him for the next few long hours without you. nose hiked in the air, he sniffs around the room before catching a whiff of your scent coming from your closet. and then he sees it: your laundry hamper.

he feels no shame rifling through the dirty clothes nose-first. there's nothing wrong with missing you, with wanting to be comforted, right? it’s innocent enough—him sniffing out whatever article of clothing it is that smells the most like you and pulling it out with his teeth:

a pair of panties.

he carefully tucks them in his mouth and goes back over to your bed, settling down on your side again. he sniffs at it and something stirs in his tummy, but he’s not quite sure what it is. the fabric is thick with that sweet, heady scent, unmistakably yours. this is just what he needed. it smells so good, exactly like you and that spot between your legs.

leon takes another inhale and lets out a low whine, that feeling in his tummy stirring again, but stronger this time. it’s an unfamiliar ache. a dull heat that pools between his legs and leaves him dizzy the further he digs his face into your underwear. he’s not entirely sure why he lolls out his tongue and licks at the fabric, but the taste of you only makes the ache burn hotter. it triggers something; a throb so strong that it nearly makes him yelp.

he looks down at his body, to where it's hot and aching the most—his cock. fully erect, stiff and drooling against his abdomen, tip flushed a bright red. he whimpers sadly at the sight. it’s starting to border on painful but he's not sure what to do about it. he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about you.

with an experimental roll of his hips, leon lets his cock brush onto the mattress. he’s completely unprepared for the rush of pleasure it brings, making his body grow taut, back arched and tail stiffening. a shiver runs through him. it feels… good. he does it again, harder, this time letting out an unabashedly loud moan.

soon he's rutting himself on the bed while he slobbers and drools all over your panties. all he can think about is licking you like this, laving his tongue in that spot between your legs. the thought sends another hot pulse straight to his cock and him into a frenzy, hips are a blur as he licks at the crotch of the fabric, moaning over and over and over. he can’t stop. he's so far gone, lost in this new addictive pleasure that he doesn't even hear the click of the front door opening.

you frown. normally leon's greeting you with licks and hugs the moment you step foot through the front door, but your pup is nowhere to be seen today.

the apartment is small, and all it takes is a quick glance for you to see he's not in the living or dining room. the bedroom is the last place to check—and that's where you find your puppyboy sprawled on the bed face-first in a pair of your panties, letting out high-pitched cries as he humps the mattress fervently, too busy chasing his high to notice you're even here.

the sudden touch of your hand to his hair breaks him out of his trance. his dumb pup brain is so muddled with lust it takes him a few seconds to realize it’s you—you’re here, real, stroking his ears and smiling at him, and it's not just his imagination. immediately he pounces on you, wrapping you in a tight hug that knocks you back onto the bed.

his tail wags furiously as he smushes his face into you. "missed you. p-please, need you," he mumbles.

he's never felt this way before. feverish, sensitive to the point that he's uncomfortable in his own skin. consumed by some sort of need, an insatiable heat that gnaws at his chest and threatens to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something about it.

your touch comforts him briefly—the kiss to his sweaty forehead and your hands on his back allow him to relax a little. "my poor baby. puppy just wanted to taste me, hm?" you ask, looking over to your now chewed-up panties crumpled on the far side of the bed.

a low whimper is all he can respond with. part of him feels ashamed for what he did, for accidentally ruining some of your clothing. and maybe if his brain wasn't so dizzy with need right now he'd think about the consequences of his actions and apologize. but instead what comes out is, "please... c-can i?"

your voice is sweet but your words are not. "i dunno, leon. you're a bad dog, ruining my underwear like that."

you practically watch his heart break in those wide, innocent eyes of his. "n-no, please, 'm a good boy, 'm your good boy..." he cries, clutching you tighter. a bad dog? the reprimand hurts worse than any other punishment possibly could.

"then why don't you prove it, baby?" you spread your thighs apart and that's all the direction leon needs.

he wastes no time shoving his face beneath your skirt and bringing himself face-to-face with your still-clothed cunt and inhaling. your pillow, your panties—neither of them even compare to the source, or give him the same rush of pleasure that dragging his tongue up your labia does. he curls your panties to the side with a finger, giving him enough access so that he can slurp at your slick just like he imagined earlier.

he's so eager, so starved of your taste and approval and love that he grows pussydrunk too quickly, practically making more sounds than you, whining and moaning as he all but devours you whole, laving his tongue anywhere he can reach and pressing his face as far in as poassible. that heated ache from between his legs is even worse than before, when he licked at your panties like this, and if he let himself grind his puppycock on the bed right now he'd cum immediately, but he ignores it.

because all he can think about are your words earlier—bad dog. nonono, that's not him; he wants to hear you praise him, hear you moan his name all pretty and tell him he's doing a good job. so he pays attention to your every reaction instead, how you twitch and hum when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive spot on the top. he focuses there, puppylicking your swollen clit over and over and over, even when your thighs clamp tightly his head and threaten to squeeze him away he still doesn't stop, slobbering and sucking at your pussy til you're creaming all over his lips with a sob of his name, because he's desperate to be your good boy again.

that gives him the reaction he wants—the sounds you make are so pretty, his ears perked up to your every breathy moan as you buck your hips into his face and ride out your high, leon licking up every bit of cum that drips down your perineum.

when you squirm from the sensitivity and shove his face away, leon moves back up your body. he rests his chin on your chest and looks up at you with puppydog eyes, his tail wagging in slow, broad strokes. "did i do good?"

it takes you several seconds to reply. you lay there, ruffling his hair and ears mindlessly, still reeling from your orgasm. "y-yeah, puppy did such a good job. good boy, leon."

finally.

he's so happy he can't help but crash his mouth onto yours and kiss you. it's sloppy, a mess of teeth and tongue, but you find yourself meeting him with equal desperation. you let him lick into your mouth, tongue heavy with the taste of yourself as it slips against your own in a heated kiss. that's all he wanted to hear and he's so excited right now he could die.

and his heart nearly stops when you wrap your legs around his hips and murmur, "please, leon." the need in your tone makes his head buzz with adoration. his tip bumps against your labia clumsily and leon lets out a noise from the back of his throat. he's so pent up, basically edging himself all day and leaving his cock swollen and aching so hard that he could probably cum untouched right now.

and the moment he pushes inside you, he does.

he didn't mean to. but you're so wet, soaked from your orgasm and spit and now his spurts of thick cum, that it's impossible for his eyes not to roll to the back of his head. his entire body trembles from the overstimulation but he pushes further and further in, cock still stiff even after cumming, splitting you open until he's buried balls deep and his pelvis rests against yours. the drag of him in and out of you is loud, he's so loud, whining with every slow thrust that fucks his cum deep inside you, the squelch of your creamy pussy milking his cock and making him lose his fucking mind.

it’s not long before he’s fucking you with that same horny puppy pace that he fucked the mattress with earlier, only you feel so much better. better than he could ever imagine—hot and wet and addicting. he can't slow down, thrusts so so sloppy while he fucks himself dumb in your perfect cunt, tongue lolling out and eyes going crossed, poor puppy brain so overstimulated it's all he can do to not cum a second time right now.

"i wan' it," he slurs. it feels like words are impossible to form, his tongue too heavy and thick for his mouth right now. "wanna cum again, inside you."

"yeah? puppy wants to breed me?" you hum.

breed. that word sets him off.

pure instinct. that's what he's driven by as he humps you even faster, rutting his puppycock inside you so desperately, needing nothing more than to knock you up and make you his. "yesyesyes please," he begs. "wanna breed you, wanna litter of pups. please-"

his babbling is cut short by his own choked gasp as your legs wrap around his hips and lock him there, forcing him deep inside and unable to pull out.

"cum for me, leon."

and he's gone, cumming hot, thick ropes, filling you with nothing but him, claiming, marking you in the most primal way possible.

you're his, and no one else's.

---

ʚ author's note: if you read this far thank you! this is my first full fic on here. feedback is welcome + vv appreciated :3c

[fluff-n-cookies]

Dabi simply adores you, his precious daughter. But he didn’t always love you.

Part 2

Warnings: attempted murder (failed), canon typical violence, robberies, alcohol+drugs, references to child neglect, implied pedophilia (nothing graphic, and not towards reader), teenage parenthood, minor swearing.

reader has blue eyes like Dabi's.

let me know if you spot anymore.

note: I swear, it's not that bad, just fluff with kinda angsty undertones, cuz' it's Dabi! what do you want

I mean, he was only a teenager when he had you, fresh to the villain business at the wonderful age of 16 and a half. He decided it’d be a wonderful time to drink his sorrows away one night, one horrid, awful night. He ended up fucking a woman he did not know, who was surely much older than he, in the back alley of a bar in the worse parts of town. Amidst the filth of the nearby dumpster, it was here that he would make the single worst decision of his life, either that, or the best. He really doesn’t know.

but alas, he ended up with a little swaddled baby 9 months later when the same woman angrily shoved you into his arms, declaring something unintelligible before storming out of the bar again. Dabi, who at the time was drunk and higher than a kite. didn't react. when you started crying, he didn't react. when you cried louder, thrashing around in his hold he still didn't react. he was in his own world at that moment, shutting out everything except the burn of the cheep beer going down his throat. it wasn't until he was kicked out of the bar along with you for being too disruptive and he fell asleep in one of the abandoned buildings nearby only to wake up hung over and disoriented did he realize what he had done; when he saw a quite malnourished baby laying down on his jacket that he chucked on the floor last night. your swaddle all dirty by now.

he did nothing but stare at you for a while, the pounding in his head as well as the harsh rays of the mid day sun didn't help much. He was still just a kid, a villain too, and homeless. he wasn't ready to have a child. for a split second he thought of leaving you there, God, you looked just like Fuyumi when she was a baby. but you looked worse, like you were barely living. had you... had you died during the night? he stumbled to your side of the room, trying his best to avoid the rumble of the deteriorating building. it would truly have been a miracle if you happened to survive in such conditions.

carefully, he flipped you onto your back, putting a warm hand on your chest. god. you were barely breathing. barely responding too. Dabi's breath hitched, had he nearly killed his own child? he stayed like there for a few moments. looking right at you. he really had no idea what to do. you're already on the verge of death, if you died right now, would it really matter? you've been on this earth for only a few days it seems, your mother left you with a villainous teenage father who could let you wither away in an abandoned building.

if you were to die right now. he could spare you the pain of having to live with him, you'd never have to know the horrors of life.

he could just light one flame,

let it fill the room with smoke,

and watch as your lungs give up

and you simply stop breathing.

...

you'd just be another person who never got to see their future.

Gently, he stroked your tiny chubby cheek with a warm finger.

he nearly laughed at the thought, killing his first child, just like his own father had done with him. he pulled you into his arms, preparing to hold a small flame right up to your face until your fragile little body couldn't take it anymore. then he'd leave your body here as he burns down the rest of the building. a fitting memorial. but before he could do anything,

he paused - you - you squirmed in his hold. cracking open your eyes to stare at him with soulless blue eyes that mirrored his own, tried and scared. an expression that surely should never be on the face of a child.

Dabi truly can't quite recall what happened in that moment when he held you in his arms. all he remembers is a clenching in his heart. maybe it was the alcohol and the drugs. but he felt the emptiness and the pain. the gut wrenching, soul crushing pain, the type that he felt whenever his father would ignore him, again and again. he pain he felt when he saw his childhood home again after so many years, only to find that nothing had changed; he was forever gone and no body gave a fuck.

but- you. just you. you were just like him. you wanted nothing more than a little bit of love. would it truly be so bad if he gave it to you? he'd keep you around, for a while at least.

that's what he told himself as he found himself stealing diapers and baby powder and formula and what not from a convenience store, only to fuck up making formula and changing a baby. he did a little victory dance with you in his arms when he finally figured it out.

but that's only after he managed to get some midwife or other doctor to do a lil' check up on you. (only to knock them out for the police to find their body hours later.) anxiously analyzing everything the doctor was doing, making mental notes to himself to have you try and eat better.

he tended to do more robberies and muggings these days, only to spend it all on a shabby little one bedroom condo in one of the cheaper (and by proxy, crime ridden) parts of the city. it was better than being a single parent living on the streets I guess.

he ended up turning the bedroom into your nursery, if you would call a room that could barely hold a twin sized bed, full of nothing but a crib, a small closet full of dirty clothes, and a big stack of baby products in one corner; a nursery. he instead slept on the couch most nights. but he would forever find himself running back into your room whenever you would cry, he almost always ended up letting you sleep on his chest on the couch. both arms slung over your tiny body so there would never be a chance you'd fall out of his grip.

but life got better with time it seems. he started taking bigger jobs, bank robberies, sometimes murders every now and then. he built a good reputation for himself. and you. you grew on him. who was once a fragile little thing, right to death's doorstep. now, when you smiled, he felt ever so full of life.

he liked how you would always wait by the door after he went out to run an "errand", always being right where he left you and babbling happily when he came back. making a little gesture to be picked up and carried.

he liked you you tend to boss him around most of the time. you could point to where you wanted to go and he would happily carry you there. he isn't even aware of what he's doing, you could yell at him (as best as a baby can anyways) and he'd meet your demands near instantly without much complaint. someone else would have to point it out for him to notice.

he especially liked how you would stare at him with wide eyes as he would smoke on the balcony with the glass door shut. every night, it was a routine, just after dinner, Dabi would snag a pack of cigarettes, and sit outside on the balcony to smoke, occasionally looking back inside through the glass to see what you were doing. he would put on a little cartoon or set out some toys for you. and while that'd keep you entertained for a while, you'd still drift towards him, looking back at him through the glass to try and get his attention. his smoke breaks kept getting shorter and shorter because of that.

he liked how every time he woke up, you would always be with him. looking up at him with those big blue eyes that he gave you. especially the way you'd always look at him with nothing but love and joy.

the same eyes that he used to look at his own father with disdain and fury.

he'll joke around that you're too clingy, always following him, attached to the hip, quite literally with how often he holds you on his hip. But deep down he knows he'd be torn apart if you were gone from him for even one hour. he can't live without your little hugs and giggles and stupid playtime's and everything. please, your love means the world to him.

but he was still only ever a boy, a boy who never quite got to grow up the way he was meant to. but you will forever be the reason he'd try and be a man. for his little girl. he remembers how he'd make more frequent trips to the grocery store, how he'd stock up on medicine for kids, how he'd buy cleaning supplies to somehow make the rinky dinky condo you both live in a tad bit more suitable for a child.

you're the reason he even joined the league. this world has already killed him, and while he was given a second chance as Dabi will it really ever be the same?

but you. you are so full of life, so perfect, awaiting a future unknown. he'll sculpt this world with the second chance he's been given. for your father, Touya, may be dead, but Dabi is not, and he is very much ready to give you what he never had, even if he dies again in the process.

but with the league comes responsibility, a time consuming responsibility. gone are the days when he'd lounge around at home all day and only leave to take you to the playground or grocery shopping, and the occasional robbery when he was low on cash. now he was busy! can you believe it? now Dabi may have skipped nearly all of high school but he wasn't that stupid enough to leave a child home alone for hours on end. hence, he came to the conclusion of daycare. the horrid, horrid daycare.

he nearly cried when he realized his little girl was growing up so fast, it seemed like just last week he was holding you on his hip as he heated up a bottle of formula in his hand to finally get you to shut up and sleep. that only a couple days ago you walked your first ever steps after he came home early with your favorite snacks. he wasn't even able to record it he was too busy sobbing as you held onto his legs to steady yourself waiting for him to pick you up. it literally felt like yesterday you said your first words, "baba" after he jokingly started calling you cry baby.

this actually led to quite a lot of problematic nicknames, cry baby became Babs and Babs became bun and bun became bunny and bunny---- (i'm losing it as I write this.)

but nonetheless, it hurts. so every morning he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to haul you out of bed and get you all pretty and dolled up for the day. he lets you choose your shirt and pants and bows and what not. tying up your little baby sized shoes to take you to the next district over. now, he would've enrolled you into a daycare much closer to home but he really wants you to be safe, and unfortunately anything and everything in your neighborhood without his supervision is not and never will be, considered safe. so he'd much rather escort you via public transport to the richer neighborhoods every single morning than have you be in danger of any kind. sure, you're a little out of place, with thrifted clothes and frizzled up hair from only ever using your dad's 4-in-1 shampoo. and he's definitely out place. hence why he never quite shows his face to the teachers. always ushering you into the daycare building before leaving as fast as he came. The teachers think that he's your older goth brother who's being forced to take you to school by his parents. is it exhausting? yes, very much so. will he do it on repeat for the rest of his life if that means ensuring your happiness and safety? most certainly yes.

---

PART 2 IS HERE

that'll be all. I might do a part 2. tried something different with my writing this time and hope it's better than the rest of my works.

my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box

send me an ask, I fucking love hearing from you guys.

edit, 4 hours after posting: I'm very disappointed that I still have no new asks. very disappointed in you all.

[decojellyfish]

So we saw Guard dog! ghost and kitten! reader

Rescued fighting dogs! Ghost and Soap with cat! reader

how about we get some of Price adopting a puppy! reader and reader having to learn the ropes from Older dogs! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz(maybe??)?

or just Price rescuing another former fighting dog! reader and them being all defensive against former fighting dogs! Ghost, Soap and Gaz(maybe??), maybe even fighting against them when they(soap) try to get too close for reader’s comfort

Thank you so much for being my second request!! I decided to go with the second prompt you offered me, and I had fun writing it! I just don't have fun making you guys cry because, fair warning, this one is gonna be angstyyy... 😔 But I hope you guys enjoy!

------

Bite

Hybrid AU! TF141 Retired Fight Dog! Gaz, Ghost, and Soap x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst

Warnings: Brief/occasional swearing, mentions of abuse, depression, extreme violence, trauma

���──♡───────────── Beginning Your body ached. You didn’t know if it was because you were starving, or if it was your muscles and joints crying out for help from your most recent fight. It was a couple of hours ago, and it was rough. Your previous owner had disowned you when he found a new pup to use and abuse for profit. Part of you was happy, the years of abuse and ruthless training were over. The other part of you was absolutely terrified. You had no more food, no treats, no worn-out bed for you to sleep on, and no roof over your head.

You’d been homeless for nearly a year. You gave up on keeping exact track months ago. Your slightly sunken stomach never ceases its eternal growl, constantly yearning for food. Dumpster diving has become a part of your lifestyle. You had managed to find some food, albeit moldy and/or coated in garbage juices, but it was still food. ‘Food is fight fuel’ was constantly echoing through your head, while you fought off the sickness going through your head as realization set in that you were literally eating garbage. Sometimes, you even wondered if food was even worth it. You weren’t fighting as much as you used to. Sometimes you were suddenly assaulted by other stray fighter dogs as well, forcing you to live in constant paranoia, anxiety, and a never-ending feeling like you had to fight.

There were times that you even lashed out at strangers because of this constant fear. Domesticated dogs would find themselves abruptly thrown into a fight when you were around. They would leave with scratches, bites, bruises, and even chunks of flesh missing due to your fierce bite. In the underground fighting scene, you were most known for how gnarly the wounds from your bites would be.

This would result in animal control being called on you. But you’d evaded them countless times, which meant that you were far from where you originally came from. You would bounce from alley to alley, town to city. You were far from home if you could even call where you came from ‘a home’.

Though you were far from old enemies, you still made new ones. You were so used to lashing out that you were still getting into fights, but now you were getting into fights with fight dogs you didn’t even know.

Some days, you were tired. So tired, you just wanted to lay in your current alleyway and just rot. Let the bugs eat away at you, sometimes you even want to turn yourself into the pound. At least there you would have food in your belly and a semi-warm place to sleep. On other days, you were mad. So mad, you just wanted to paint the town red with any kind of blood, even your own.

Today was a tired day. You were lying against a wall, it was raining. Rain would be the closest you had to being bathed. Your rotted clothes were soaked and falling apart, your hair sticking to your face and skin as you stared at the opposing wall. Your eyes had nothing behind them, you were lost in your little world. Your happy place.

You imagined yourself in a cabin, or a cottage, just somewhere secluded and cozy. You had a loving partner, and pups of your own to take care of. A garden in the backyard, full of fruit, vegetables, and herbs. A flower garden in the front yard, full of daffodils, tulips, rose bushes, and trumpet lilies. You wore soft clothes like they were made of clouds. In your happy place, you were warm. In your happy place, you were safe.

Unfortunately, you were ripped out of your happy place by a smell. A familiar smell. Multiple familiar smells. Your heart had already started to beat rapidly, and the sense of adrenaline you had when in the fighting ring was coming back, slapping you in the face. You shifted your position from laying back against a wall to standing up and ready to fight, your teeth already beginning to show and a low growl slowly leaving your throat.

Familiar smells were never good, it meant that someone who had been made an enemy was close. Another fight was about to happen. You could hear men chatting with each other, though it was muffled by the ringing in your ear as your brain was now filled with nothing but adrenaline, panic, and one word. Fight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price was going on his weekly walk with his boys, all rescues. His home had become somewhat of a mini rehabilitation center. His pups, although fully grown dogs, were his pride and joy to be around. Gaz was his first rescue about seven years ago, Soap was rescued about two years after Gaz, and Ghost had been rescued three years before today. Price, himself, was a retired military veteran.

He enjoyed going on walks with his pups, he found it to be a nice bonding experience. Although today was rainy, it didn’t stop the group from following tradition. Gaz loved the rain, the sound and the feeling of raindrops hitting windows, umbrellas, or even himself was beyond calming for him. Soap didn’t particularly like rain, it mostly made him think of those unbelievably sad scenes in movies that involved rain, like an intense breakup. Ghost was neutral about it.

But Ghost found himself focused on something else, a smell. He glanced over at Soap, who could also smell this sudden scent. “Stop.” Ghost spoke firmly, grabbing Price’s shoulders and looking at the rest of the group. “Stay here, I smell something.” “Ghost, I don’t want you getting hurt-“ Price protested, only to be interrupted by Soap. “Stay, somethin’s here tha’ could rip out your throat.”

Gaz was worried as well, even though the scent wasn’t as familiar to him as it was to Ghost and Soap. He could smell a large amount of adrenaline and even panic or fear mixed in.

Ghost slowly walked up to the scent source and braced himself, slowly watching as a familiar face came into view. The two of you had been through plenty of fights together, each parting putting up a massive fight. You were snarling at him when he approached you, your body unconsciously moving closer to the wall, further away from him as he grew closer. Your hollow, starved appearance had him taken aback. You looked terrible. You were coated in scabs, bruises, and open wounds that had miraculously not gotten infected.

Your heart was beating so fast, that both you and Ghost could hear it. He had his hands up, his palms open as he showed he wasn’t looking for a fight. That didn’t stop you though. All you could see was all those fights, years ago. Ghost snarling back at you before he would nearly tear a chunk out of you while you almost ripped both of his ears off. You lunged at him with a loud bark, tackling him as you began to scratch and bite at him.

The group was startled, and terrified. They would all run to Ghost as they tried to get this rabid dog off of him. Of course, four men against you was an unfair fight and you were swiftly removed from the fight.

Soap held you against the ground, crouching over you as he pinned both of your arms behind your back as you continued to snarl and attempt to bite. You panted and stared at them with wide eyes, mostly focusing on Ghost and Soap since they were enemies from the past.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, aren’t you..?” You spoke shakily, to either of the boys. Soap could feel how strong and deep your breaths were as you hyperventilated.

All the men shared a glance of worry, Soap spoke up, “We’re not those dogs anymore.” Ghost would nod in shared agreement. “You don’t look so good, since the last time I saw you.” He looked down at you, noting how your stomach churned from hunger, how tired your eyes were, and your slightly raspy breath. Even your recent wounds worried him, some nearly looking like early stages of infection.

You grunted as you struggled under him, “Yeah, well, ‘m happy to see you guys living the high life.” You grumbled, the other dogs’ ears twitching as they heard a slight crack in your voice. You couldn’t ignore it, you were jealous. They didn’t look as tired as they did at your last fight, not on edge all the time, they looked well fed, and they smelled good too. And worst of all, what made you want to lash out at all of them, even their owner, was the fact that they looked happy with this new life. The life that you desired that always seemed to be out of reach.

All the men looked back at Price, Gaz included, with one question in their eyes. ‘Can we keep them?’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taking you back to their home was a fight in it of itself. You couldn’t help but be scared. Maybe they were all tricking you, maybe they were gonna lock you up in their house and sell you off to another owner in the underground fighting scene. Maybe they really were going to kill you. You only felt slightly safe with Gaz, but that’s because he didn’t look as scarred a fighter as Ghost and Soap, and his eyes held a safer gaze than the other two. He would hold your hand on the way home, firmly but protectively. However, he only did this after you attempted to run away from the group about 4 times.

Arriving at the Price household, there was an overwhelming amount of smells. Everything smelled like all the boys, but individually and in one unit all at the same time. You would stay close to the front door at the entrance, scared to step one foot further into the house. You still didn’t know if it was safe or not. Price respected this, though. He had Gaz let go of your hand so you could settle into the house at your own pace. The look of fear in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, he’d seen it in all his other boys when he first brought them home.

He had the boys all continue on with their night, only giving you directions to the bathroom in case you needed it at some point.

As time went on, your legs would grow tired of just standing. You remained seated, close to the door as you watched the household live out their lives. Price would only stop by you once for the night, and it was to give you a late-night snack and to wish you a good night. He had set down a plate with pieces of watermelon and a glass of water. He left after that, supposedly going to bed. The boys would stay up a bit later, they would watch you in secret. But you were quickly able to tell they were spying on you, however, you let them continue.

You saw it as a way to test if they were trustworthy. Your ears slightly twitch as you listen to their whispers.

“...how do you know them…?” Gaz would whisper, curiosity lacing his voice. “...Ghost and I have had a few tussles with ‘em years ago…” “...Fierce dog… don’t underestimate them…” Ghost grumbled in reply, Soap nodding in agreement. “...Nearly took mah whole face off…” Soap chuckled. “...They almost got my ears…” Ghost added.

You would faintly smile at the warning of underestimating you as a fighter dog. But then you were reminded that you were a fighter dog. And a successful one. Any moral being would never want to be a successful fighter dog. That meant you were scary and either could have killed or even mutilated another dog. Memories of all your fights would flash across your mind, like a blinding camera shot. Your successful ones, the ones where you would lose and your owner showed you what bad dogs get for losing. The bits of compassion you would feel for your opponent as they bleed out, or yowled in pain as their bones broke, pellets of skin torn off, or their bleeding gums from when you knocked nearly all their teeth out.

You wanted to hug them, apologize to them, tell them that you wished you could fix them. Only to have those moments of kindness wiped from your mind as the shrieks and cheers of your owner and the people who bet money on you were released into the air.

Coming back to reality, you were perplexed when you didn’t hear the whispers anymore. Taking a chance, you glanced up at the boys. Only to see that they were now staring at you, curious and worried. You didn’t know why they were staring until you heard a soft pit-pat against the floor beneath you.

Glancing down, you saw little droplets. Your hand instinctively raised to your face, feeling little beads of tears and the streaks they left behind on your face. You would quickly smear your tears away and shoot the dogs a mean growl before reluctantly stuffing a piece of watermelon into your mouth. You just wanted something else to focus on aside from the stares you were getting right now.

An hour later, the men had all gone to sleep and you had eaten all the food Price had given you and drank all the water he offered. You stayed awake throughout the whole night, however. You still didn’t trust anyone, believing the house was a trap.

Morning arrived, your eyes tired but still open as you didn’t want to lose your guard. Price was the first one up, yawning and scratching at his chest as he walked into the room. He would glance down at you, smiling when he saw you’d eaten all your food.

“Food was good, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll get you some more soon.” He chuckled, taking your empty dishes away and heading into the kitchen.

You felt awkward now, just sitting there as Price had begun to cook breakfast. You would quietly stand up and slink into the kitchen, sitting on the cold tile as you would watch him from a random corner of the room. It had been about ten minutes before Price would look over his shoulder to check on you, only seeing that you weren’t in your previous spot. He would then glance down at you in your new spot, chuckling to himself.

“Got bored of the old spot?” He asked before going back to cooking. He didn’t expect you to be speaking right out the gate, all the other boys were like that too when he first took them in. After a few minutes, Gaz would walk in, rubbing at his eye. A big smile formed on his face as he smelled the currently cooking food. “Smells good in here, Price.” He would then finally look at you, mildly surprised you had moved but he would regain his smile.

Waving at you, he would approach you but keep his distance. “Did you sleep well last night…?” You silently stared at him, your restlessness very obvious, especially in your eyes. “Did you sleep- at all last night…?” He looked concerned, his brows only furrowing more when you shook your head no. “...Too scared?” You stayed quiet. “That’s okay, Ghost and I were like that too.” He smiled at you. You couldn’t deny it, he was a comforting ball of sunshine to you.

“I could set up a bed on the couch for you, I could even keep the telly on for you if you like falling asleep to that sort of thing.” You remained quiet as he talked to you, causing him to let out a slightly amused but comforting huff. “That’s okay, you can think about it during breakfast.”

Breakfast included food that was the most delicious food you had devoured in years. French toast, fried eggs, bacon. You would quietly inhale the first actual meal you’d had in a long time, everyone else watching you at the kitchen table, some trying not to laugh at your eagerness.

You awkwardly stared at everyone else, wiping away some yolk on your mouth with your hand. Price chuckled, “That reminds me, we ought to give you a bath today and get you some new clothes.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awkwardly sat in the tub as Gaz would scrub a sudsy sponge along your back. Price was washing some clothes, making sure the scent was cleaned out so you had no trouble with wearing them.

“Don’t worry, I was like this when Price first took me in.” He laughed a little. “Quiet, scared, and I didn’t know if this place was my permanent home. But it is my home, and it’s gonna be your home too.” He smiled at you, now rubbing shampoo into your hair. “...what’s it like?” You looked up at him. “Y’know, living here? What’s it like?”

Gaz thought for a bit, also trying to make sure none of the shampoo got in your eyes. “Well, it’s nice. Good food, good clothes, good comfort. Price will sometimes pick up our favorite snacks for us, he’ll do that for you too, you just need to ask him or write it on the grocery list. We go on weekly walks around the block, sometimes we go to the park which is really fun. Especially with Soap, he really likes to play games at the park.”

That surprised you, you never took Soap to be a ‘fun games at the park’ kind of dog. Well, that could also be because you never got to see him or Ghost as a domesticated dog, your only memories of them being in the fighting rink. Maybe they have changed. Maybe you should give them a chance to show you they’ve changed.

Maybe they were doing that all along since they found you, only holding you down instead of attacking you in response to being attacked by an old foe.

The bath was eventually drained and you were dried off with a towel, Price coming in with a pair of folded up clothes, a t-shirt and some sweatpants. You were left alone in the bathroom to get dressed, also to let you just have time to yourself.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom in your new attire. You couldn’t lie, the clothes were beyond comfy and were nice and warm. Probably fresh out of the dryer. The rest of the boys were on the couch, watching a show on the TV. You would stare at them before slowly beginning to move your legs towards the couch as well.

They would notice your approaching, but wouldn’t bring any extra attention to it. They all remember their first time trying to get comfortable in the new home. It honestly warmed their hearts watching you hesitate on where to sit before eventually picking a spot and huddling into the soft pillows.

Price was already dressed for the day and was writing down the current shopping list before slipping his shoes on. “Oy, Gaz, you’re coming with me for groceries today.” He called out to the couch, Gaz promptly getting up and putting his own shoes on. He waved to you and the other two before stepping out the front door, Price giving a wave as well. “We’ll be back in 30.”

You sat there in silence, now stuck with your past enemies. There was tension, no doubt. At least, that’s what you felt. You were the one who was constantly looking over at the boys, a nervous sweat forming on your forehead. The two were just sitting there, watching the commercials play and pass by.

Now that the only pacifists in the house were gone, they were going to pounce at any second. You were sure of it. At any given moment, they were gonna do it. So you sat there, in a state of constant fear and bracing yourself for a fight you didn’t even know would happen.

Ghost noticed your condition, Soap a few seconds later would see it too. “... you okay, pup?” Soap would ask, seeing the little bits of sweat on your skin. “You’re scared.” Ghost stated, looking deep into your defensive form. “You don’t need to be, you’re safe now. We all are. We aren’t the same dogs you fought those years ago.”

They continued to watch you, watching as you stayed quiet and just stared at them expectantly. “We know you’re also no’ the same dog from those fights. Ye dinnae have a choice, only doin’ tha’ for your own survival. Like us.” Soap’s eyes were full of empathy and concern.

“No need to be scared. It’s safe here.” He smiled at you, slowly reaching out to you to rub your shoulder.

You only saw the worst in people, you would see a possible future where he was reaching out to strangle you instead of comforting you. You thought you could see his teeth start to bare, maybe he was snarling at you.

You felt like you were back in the fighting ring. You could feel the adrenaline begin pulsing and coursing through your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You didn’t know how you did it, it went by so fast. The last thing you saw was Soap’s teething smile and his hand. Now you were pressed up against a wall, hyperventilating at the sight of what you just did.

First, you  grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground before you began to bite and tear at his flesh and clothes. You woke up when Ghost pinned you to the ground, keeping your wrists together so you couldn’t hurt anyone or yourself. You scrambled away from him and coward into a corner.

You thought you were doing good, only a day into this house and you were doing so good. You didn’t feel like a good pup, not anymore. You weren’t deserving of this house, these new clothes. the food that resided in your stomach. You were a bad dog. There was no way you could look any of the boys in the eye now. Not after what you did.

Lost in a tsunami of your thoughts, you couldn’t hear Ghost trying to reassure you, that it was normal for an outburst like this to happen. He, himself, did it to Price. He brought Soap to the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit along with a few extra bandages. Living in a house with a bunch of retired fighter dogs, the first aid kits would be a bit more extreme than a regular, everyday one.

When he returned to check on you, to tell you that Soap was going to be okay, he didn’t see you in your corner. Not even the spot you were in on your first day here. But he saw that right next to the spot, the door was left open.

They lost you. ───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, or asks, feel free to submit them!

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[nikkento-writes]

Rub You the Right Way - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.7k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio, 69 position), mutual masturbation, face-riding, face-fucking, use of sex toys, cum eating, multiple orgasms

Summary: You can’t stop thinking about your adorably sweet and shy next-door neighbor, especially after your very eventful night with him just two days ago. Lucky for you, Choso can’t stop thinking about you either.

Author’s Notes: I initially planned for this to be a one-shot, but I love the dynamic of these two awkward dorks so much that I turned this into a three-part mini series! I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Two days following your risqué rendezvous with Choso, you find yourself standing in front of his door once again, a tad nervous to knock. It’s Sunday night, just past dinnertime, and you finally finished all the extra work you had taken home with you for the weekend. With hours spent pouring over documents, straining your eyes at a computer screen, all you want is to relax. And based on Friday night’s festivities, your shy and surprisingly sexy neighbor can help you with that.

You’re not here explicitly expecting sex. Sure, maybe you’re hoping for it to some extent. It was incredibly hot, so much so that you’ve masturbated yourself to sleep every night since, replaying it in over and over in your head. The fucked-out gaze in his eyes as he watched you play with yourself. His mouth pressed deliciously to your cunt, sucking and slurping on your swollen clit. That huge fucking cock deep down your throat. Most of all, you adore that swoon worthy smile of his as he caressed your cheek, thanking you oh-so-sweetly. What you really want is companionship, to be wrapped in his big, strong arms, so warm and comforting around you, completely at peace in the world. His lips soft, kisses careful, hands gentle on your body, like he truly cherishes you. You want that again. You want it all the time.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you knock, holding your breath in anticipation. Yuji is the one to answer, equally as surprised as you. He says your name, staring at you curiously. “Is everything okay?”

Of course he’s reacting this way; you’ve never visited, especially not at an odd hour like this. You didn’t even consider that his little brother would be here, even though he’s here basically all the time. You dumb idiot! Thinking quickly, you spit out the most generic and phony response that comes to mind. “Can I borrow some sugar?” Sugar? Really? That’s the best you can come up with?

He doesn’t seem fazed by the bizarre request, though you sense he doesn’t buy it, given the twitch in his lip, hiding his smirk. Still, Yuji, much like his brother, has a kind heart, so he plays along. “Hey bro,” he calls out, looking to his right.

Choso walks over from the kitchen, his eyes widening upon seeing you. He utters your name quietly, soap dripping from the gloves on his hands, in the middle of washing dishes.

“She wants some sugar.” Yuji has a cheeky grin on his face. “Think you can spare her some?”

Choso swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing apprehensively in his throat. “Sugar?” he repeats, an uncertain tone in his voice.

“Yeah,” you confirm, giving him an innocent smile. “I’m trying to bake some chocolate chip cookies and I have everything except sugar. So silly of me, right?” You’re not baking anything, but you can’t take it back now, not with Choso’s full attention on you.

He nods with a serious expression on his face, holding his arms up like a surgeon who just finished a procedure, suds slowly dripping down his forearms. “How much do you need?”

“Just a cup. That’s all the recipe calls for. It’s a batch of a dozen, so I really don’t need much.” There is no recipe, the lie keeps getting more and more elaborate, your voice getting squeakier and less convincing every second you speak. You really can’t help yourself when you’re put on the spot like this. Why must you be so goddamn awkward?!

He nods once more before disappearing back into the kitchen to retrieve the sugar you actually don’t need. Yuji continues to grin at you. “Choso bakes a lot, so he’s always got ingredients on hand.”

You’re relieved to change the subject in a slightly different direction. “His cookies are always so yummy.” All of the times Yuji has hand-delivered his brother’s wonderful treats to you flash in your head, making you smile.

“He’s a real sorcerer in the kitchen.” Yuji leans in a bit closer, voice softer now for only you to hear. “You know, he’d be more than happy to teach you a few of his recipes, if you want. He’s shy at first, but he is a really great guy.”

You give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, he is.” It touches your heart how highly Yuji speaks of his older brother. Under the guise of cooking lessons, he’s implying that he wants the two of you to be together, as friends, cordial neighbors, possibly even potential lovers. Maybe he doesn’t want his brother to be so lonely anymore. 

Choso returns, two zipped plastic bags in his hands. “If you’re baking chocolate chip cookies, you’ll need brown sugar too. So, I packed you both, just in case,” he explains, dropping them into your open palms.

You accept, too shy to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the newly acquired goods. “Thank you, Choso. I really appreciate it.”

He bows, stiff and formal, while Yuji waves. “You sure you don’t want any more of Choso’s sugar? He’s got plenty to give!” he adds, definitely trying to instigate.

Turning on your heel to retreat into your apartment, you squeak, “I’m good, thank you!” without sparing them another glance. In the safety of your home, you lean against the door, burying your face in your hands. so embarrassed at what just transpired, mentally beating yourself up for being so ridiculous. With all this extra sugar so graciously given by Choso, you end up baking cookies, pretending for your own sake that this was part of the plan all along.   

~~~

Choso sits on the couch, hugging his knees, staring blankly at the empty TV in front of him. He’s muttering the word “sugar” over and over to himself, mind racing with all kinds of ridiculous thoughts. Two days after the most amazing night of his life and all you want is sugar. Sugar! And for cookies? Cookies for who?! He’s completely aware that you’ve been busy with work, but he can’t stop his insecurities from rattling him. The two of you didn’t really discuss the status of your relationship.  For all he knows, you could have hated the entire experience all together. Though, he has a hard time believing that, not with the way you looked at him, so full of warmth and adoration, even with his cock throbbing inside your mouth…

He physically shakes his head to rid the impure thoughts, the same ones that he’s touched himself to since that night. His vast collection of toys are no match to the real thing, to you. And he may never get to feel that ever again. Because you’re disgusted by him. You hate him. It’s all over between you two before it even began.

Whelp, back to freaking out.

“Choso?” Yuji’s voice finally snaps him out of his trance. His younger brother approaches him carefully, a concerned expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers, unconvincingly.

Yuji raises his brow. “You sure? You’ve been sitting here, mumbling ‘sugar’ for the past fifteen minutes.”

Fuck! He heard that? Choso blushes, embarrassed to have been caught in such a sorry state. He stutters, making a poor attempt at explaining himself. “Well, you see…I’ve been…I have a…I think that – ”

Yuji laughs, taking a seat beside him. “If you want to talk to her, just do it! I already put in a good word for you,” he says with a wink, giving him a playful nudge.

Choso gapes at him. “You…what?”

He beams, pleased with himself. “Yeah, I said you could teach her a few things in the kitchen and I think she’s interested! I mean, she did want your sugar, if you know what I mean.” More nudging and ribbing while Choso buries his face into his hands, horrified. “She’s really nice and super easy to talk to. I’m sure the two of you can become really good friends.”

Friends. Sweet baby Yuji doesn’t even know the half of it. Choso sighs, finally straying from the path of an existential crisis. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself,” he says quietly. 

Yuji puts his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “You won’t, I promise you. Just be yourself.”

He meets his gaze, giving him a half-hearted smile, genuinely feeling a bit better after that little pep talk. They watch a movie together, temporarily taking Choso’s mind off the whole ordeal. He tries not to think about you or the cookies you’re currently baking, or that he’s totally jealous of this new imaginary love rival of his that will be the recipient of said cookies.

Yuji leaves at eleven to catch one of the last busses back to his university. Choso decides that he’s sick of sulking around and tormenting himself with outrageous theories. He puts on his best sweats and fixes his hair so that slightly less strands are sticking out from his poofy buns. Back straight, chest puffed out, and all the confidence he can muster, he marches next door, determined to tell you exactly how he’s feeling.

~~~

You’re sitting at the kitchen table in a bathrobe, having just finished eating one of your  freshly baked cookies. You decided during your shower to finally give one of your newer gadgets a try, a sleekly designed vibrating dildo made from the softest silicone material you can imagine. The toy and a bottle of lube are set up on the nightstand beside your bed, ready to use along with the memory of riding Choso’s gorgeous face. While you wish you were actually with him instead, your efforts from earlier didn’t go the way you were hoping. This will have to do for now, at least until you gather the guts to approach him again.

Just as you’re about to retire into the bedroom, there’s a knock on your door. To your surprise, Choso stands before you, stiff and very obviously nervous. “Hi,” he says, giving you an awkward wave that you find absolutely adorable.

You smile, opening the door wider for him to enter. “Hi. Come in.”

He shuffles through, pausing at the kitchen table to observe the plate of cookies you made with the sugar he gave you. “So…cookies,” he mutters.

You bite your lip anxiously. “Yeah, cookies.”

There’s a heavy pause, the both of you trying to find the right words to say to one another. You decide to be honest with him, but it comes out the same time he asks you the question that’s been gnawing on his mind all night.

“I want be with you.”

“Who are they for?”

You stare at each other, confused. Taking a step towards him, you explain, “I came over to see if you wanted to hang out, but I chickened out when I saw your brother. I made up some dumb excuse, hence the request for sugar. I ended up baking cookies anyways to make myself feel better.”

His expression softens, sighing in relief. “I freaked out not being able to see you all weekend. And when you came over asking for sugar, I got jealous that you were baking for somebody else.” He rubs the back of his neck timidly, a small grin on his face. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

Another step and you’re close enough to touch him, but you don’t. “Not at all. I’m the one who came up with the lamest lie ever. Your brother probably thinks I’m a weirdo.”

He chuckles. “He definitely doesn’t.”

You’re only an inch apart now, enough to feel his body heat. “I meant what I said. I want to be with you.”

His eyes wander to your chest, your robe loose and barely clinging to you. He swallows hard and you can tell that he’s losing his composure too. “You do?”

“I do.” You peer up at him with a smile, wanting so badly to hug him, to kiss him.

His voice is quiet, but the surest you’ve ever heard it. “I want to be with you too.”

Your chest swells with happiness, ready to burst and shoot out confetti all over his pretty face. He’s staring at your lips now, licking his own when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You grin at him, tugging at the collar of his sweater to pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his. He holds you in a warm embrace, kissing you gently, one hand on your lower back, the other spread across the nape of your neck. “You taste so good,” he whispers, sucking on your bottom lip.

“That’s because I just ate a cookie,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose to his.

“Nah,” he smirks, licking into your mouth. “You taste good everywhere.”

You let out a moan, leading him straight into your bedroom where you untie the knot of your robe, revealing your bare body. He slides the rest off, watching you lie on the bed, legs spread wide, pussy on display for him. His kisses start at your ankles, then slowly up your legs, where he sucks on the plush skin of your inner thighs. You let him ravish you, toes curling in pleasure with his tongue flat on your clit, lapping you up hungrily. “Choso,” you whine his name, gripping onto his hair, bucking against his face to feel him even deeper.

He hums into your skin, his lips puckered tight around you, tongue flicking your sensitive bud. He looks up at you, enjoying your fucked-out expression. Something beside you captures his attention for a moment, distracting him. “What is that?”

You’re too caught up in the pleasure that you don’t register what he’s asking you until he pulls off to investigate, laser focused on the object on your nightstand. You quickly grab it from him, horrified when you realize what he’s so fixated on: the dildo. “It’s just one of my toys. I thought we wouldn’t hang out tonight, so I…” your voice trails off, noticing the intensity in his gaze. Hot, flustered, and not keen on elaborating any further, you comment, “Anyways, I’ll just put this away now – ”

He stops you. “No. Don’t. Don’t put it away.”

“Don’t…?”

A little too Intrigued, he scooches closer to you, studying the device in your hand. “Can you show me how you use it?”

You’ve already demonstrated the vibrator for him. For some reason, you’re shy to show him this. Maybe it’s because of how intimate it feels to have something inside you, to be probed, penetrated, filled. But as he looks at you so sweetly, eyes filled with genuine curiosity, you find yourself giving in. “Okay,” you oblige hesitantly, reaching for the lube bottle, your entire body tingling. You pump a small drop of it on the tip, using your fingers to coat the rest on.

He watches you, mouth hanging open, drool leaking from one side of his lips, mesmerized by the way you rub it up and down your cunt, teasing yourself with it. “What do you think about when you use it?”

You giggle, pressing the toy to your clit. “Do you really have to ask?”

“You think about me?” The surprise in his voice is endearing; he has no clue the effect he has on you, how badly you want him, how incredibly fucking hot he is.

“Of course I do,” you answer, gaining some of your confidence back. You pull him towards you, kissing him fervently, sliding the tip to your entrance, slick with arousal. “Look at what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, growing erection bulging in his sweatpants, eyes glazed over as he ogles your wet cunt. “Fuck.”

“Like what you see?” you goad him, readjusting your grip on the base so that your thumb is set on the button.

He nods, kissing you along your neck, then up to your ear, his voice a sultry whisper. “I want you to squirt all over it. Want to lick it up and make you come again and again and again on my tongue.”

“Oh fuck, Choso. So nasty,” you moan, easing it inside you, pussy gradually adjusting to the size. You bite your lip at the tight fit; it’s been a while since you’ve used this, and even longer since you've been penetrated by anything, or anyone. “So tight.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” His genuine concern is too cute. He’s too cute.

You give him a reassuring smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s just been a while since I…y’know.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He grazes your forehead with his lips, giving you a soft peck. “I don’t want you to be in any pain.”

You grin wider, finding him so adorably sincere and sweet. “I’m sure, Choso.” With the dildo nestled comfortably inside you, you reach for his hand, resting it on the base. “Can you fuck me with it? Please?”

This spurs him on, a guttural groan escaping him, eyes wide and pupils dilated, completely captivated by you. You cup his cheek, tracing his upper lip with your thumb. He opens his mouth, chasing any taste of you on his tongue. “You’ll really let me?”

You gaze down at his lap, a small spot of precum leaking through his grey sweats. “Only if you stroke yourself while you do it.”

Choso is feverishly turned on right now, face flushed, his entire body scorching hot, cock throbbing in his pants. Your fingers brush his navel on your way to his waistband and he nearly combusts just thinking about your fist wrapped around his shaft, stroking him. He shimmies out of his bottoms, shrugging them off from his ankles until he’s naked from the waist down, rock hard erection flopping against his abdomen.

“Big boy,” you tease him, nipping at his ear lobe, drooling at the sight of him. “You’d fill me up so good.”

“God, I want to so bad,” he grunts, stroking himself with his left hand as his right fucks you with the dildo. Even without the vibration on, it feels amazing, the way he flicks his wrist, pumping the toy in and out of you. He times his thrusts to match the pace in which he strokes himself, wishing he was inside you instead. But he resists the temptation, knowing there’s all the time in the world to explore each other. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just the two of you, enjoying one another at whatever pace feels right. 

Wanting to check out all of the features this toy offers, he pushes the button, causing it to vibrate inside you. You gasp at the sudden sensation, squirming as he ramps it up two more levels, sliding it even deeper to stimulate your g-spot. It doesn’t take much longer for you to come like this, buzzing inside and out with ecstasy, the toy absolutely soaked down the base with lube and your slick. He pulls it out of you, tossing the dildo aside to marvel at the mess you made. Before he can make his next move, you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap to rub your wet pussy along his shaft. You rock yourself on him, sleek folds gliding up and down his cock so smoothly, just one move and he’d been in heaven.

He’s a stuttering nervous wreck when he asks, “Should we…should we try it, baby?” He knows the two of you shouldn’t; despite all that’s happened in just the past two days, this is a big and monumental step, especially for him, a borderline shut-in with intimacy issues that shouldn’t be resolved from a rash decision. But if you want it, he’s more than willing to give it to you. That’s just the kind of guy Choso is, putting others before himself.

Luckily for him, you see that. You see him. “Not yet,” you say, caressing his face. “We’ll wait until we’re both ready, okay? There’s no need to rush.”

He smiles, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding waiting for your response. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him softly. “I really like you, Choso. I don’t want to mess this up by going too fast.”

“Me too,” he kisses you back, nearly in tears at how perfectly this is going. “I really like you, too.”

He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately while you grind yourself on him until the both of you come, out-of-breath, sweaty, and in total bliss. His cum pools on his abdomen, some of it dripping down the side of his stomach onto the sheets below you. You relax on top of him, spent and satiated, but your little rest doesn’t last for long as he lifts you up by the hips, wiggling down the bed so that his face is pressed to your cunt, mouth eagerly lapping at your clit. “Just a little more, sweetie. Just a little more for me,” he urges you, unrelenting and determined to fulfill his promise from earlier. Want to lick it up and make you come again and again and again on my tongue.

So you let him, moaning his name wantonly with his lips puckered around you, drinking every drop of you up until he’s had his fill, which is three more orgasms later. He starts stroking himself on the last one, a big smile on his shiny swollen lips as he kisses your clit. You whimper his name for the umpteenth time tonight, hips stiff from constantly grinding against him. Still, you think you could go longer, you want to, despite how exhausted you are. And while you know there’s more to look forward to with Choso, you don’t want this to end. You pull of him, readjusting yourself so that you’re facing the other way, in the perfect position to suck his cock. He growls beneath you, sloppily eating you out while you deep-throat him, hungry for his cum.

~~~

The two of you finally settle down for the night, cuddled in new blankets and bedsheets to replace the ones soaked with the aftermath of tonight’s lovemaking. Choso spoons you from behind, his face nuzzled to the nape of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent. He rubs your belly soothingly, voice a soft whisper on your skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

You smile, turning around to face him, snuggling into his chest. “I told you, I feel amazing. You don’t have to keep worrying.”

He kisses your forehead. “I just want to make sure you’re not sick of me yet.”

This time, you can’t help but laugh. “That’s impossible.” You listen to his heartbeat carefully, trying to memorize the steady rhythm of it. “I can’t get enough of you.”

[mokulule]

A Man Has Needs - Part 2

First | Masterpost

DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main Summary:

In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 2

Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.

The guy was here because he was starving.

Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?

Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.

That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.

Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.

Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.

It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.

Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.

Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.

Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.

It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.

Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.

Oo o oO

Mint and frost in his nose.

Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.

Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.

What was wrong with him?

Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.

There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.

For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.

Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.

He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?

He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.

Mint and frost.

Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.

Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.

Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.

He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.

Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.

He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.

Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.

The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.

“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.

Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.

Okay, so they were doing this again.

Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.

He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.

Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusement. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.

“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.

“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.

Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.

“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.

“I hate toast.”

Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.

“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”

Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”

Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.

Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.

Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “Shit! Forgot the time!”

The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.

“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.

Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?

Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.

One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.

-

And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!

I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.

If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn

Previous | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

You feel sick when you wake. Muscles weak and body shaky. It takes more effort than you would like to peel your eyes open. You haven’t sat under a UV lamp in a while and it’s starting to show. The cocoon of sheets feels so good you don’t want to get up, to peel yourself away from them.

You realize Johnny and Kyle are gone as you sit up, all alone in the center of the massive bed. The room feels darker without them, somehow. Emptier. You roll over to climb off the bed, interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling under you. You feel around the mattress only to find a thick envelope with ‘Fancy’ neatly written across the front. As you open it, your breath catches in your throat at the contents. It’s nearly double what they said they’d pay. More than you could have ever hoped for. It makes your hands shake to hold that much money all at once. Once the shock wears off, a folded up piece of paper catches your eye.

Hey lovie,

Sorry to take off without saying goodbye. Had some business to attend to. Figured we should let you sleep. Hope you won’t be too mad ;)

We left a little extra for spending the night. Nothing like cuddling up next to a soft, warm lady.

Let’s do it again soon.

Kyle + Johnny

The handwriting changes to a messy scrawl that you have to squint to make out.

P.S. You look bonnie in my shirt. Gonnae be thinking about that all day. Feel free to take it with you.

P.S.S. I want it back unwashed.

You can’t help but snicker to yourself. Damn dirty dog.

You have no reason to deny him, though. So you slip the t-shirt on over your dress as you get ready to leave. The dress feels far too constrictive for the early morning. This is why you don’t do nights - walking out looking like a mess in the itchy day old clothes. You give up looking for your panties which seem to have evaporated, not too keen on putting them back on anyway.

Before you can tip-toe your way out to the front door, you find yourself pausing. The kitchen light is on, illuminating a figure working over the stove. Curiosity gets the better of you and you circle around the counter to see John sorting ingredients in nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. Strong, nicely hairy chest on full display.

And they call you and slut.

“Good morning.” He flashes you a bright smile. Of course he noticed you. He probably smelled you before he even heard you leave the bedroom.

“Sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude.” You mumble awkwardly.

“No, no. I was hoping you’d stop f’me. My boys treat you alright?” He eyes your shirt.

Being asked that a second time throws you off. Why the hell do they care so much? “They did.”

“Good. Good.” He smiles warmly. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

You scoff. “You? No offense but I’d rather take my chances with the nearest dumpster.”

“Contrary to popular belief, some of us remember how to cook.”

You glance at the half-dozen cart of eggs and perfectly fresh vegetables neatly arranged across the counter. “And you just happened to have human food on hand?”

He pauses. “…I may have had some delivered.”

John turns back to the stove, muttering something under his breath about ‘too smart for her own damn good.’

You pad over beside him to look down at the food, staring at the spread. You point at some red thing you don’t recognize. “What is that?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “The tomato?”

“Tomatoes are purple.” You poke it. “And more squishy.”

You meet his eye and for a brief moment, you think you see pity. Something sad swirling in the blue of his irises. He schools his face back to neutral before you can be sure you saw anything at all.

“Well, hopefully you trust an old codger like me to make you a half-decent omelette.”

You snort, leaning back on the kitchen island. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

You both lapse into silence. He does seem to know what he’s doing - carefully chopping the vegetables and carefully folding the omelette in the pan. Maybe he had a human wife at some point or something. Most likely. That’s not uncommon, especially back in the 21st century. Practically a trend. You tilt your head as you watch him move, brow furrowed. He’s so weird.

What could you have said to them to make them treat you like this? You’re almost afraid to know - that block of time so buried in the recesses of your mind there’s no hope of ever recovering it. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried since that day, but you know we’ll enough that it never works. You don’t have a single guess as to what it could have been.

Maybe you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’re just weirdly tunnel visioned. Vamps do that often enough - hone in on a target of affection. For any reason from looking like a dead loved one or they just have an enticing scent. Except they’re not usually this… nice. Normally they’d just drain the object of their affection and be done with it. Not ask them to sleep over for the night and cook them breakfast in the morning.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a plate is set in front of you. It looks… perfect. At least you assume that’s what a good omelette looks like. Nicely golden. It looks alien. Food from another world - another time. You glance up at John as he watches you expectantly. It won’t hurt to entertain him, you suppose. Even if it does end up being shit. You cut a small bite, tentatively bringing it to you your lips. You brace for something awful.

Except it’s incredible. Perfectly cooked and seasoned. You can’t help but let out a content little hum before practically scarfing it down. You haven’t had food like this in… ever, actually. Neither this fresh or well made.

“So you like it?” John smiles.

You nod happily with a mouth full of food before remembering where you are. Steeling yourself and slowing down, returning to the more reserved persona. “It’s good.”

John huffs out a laugh, turning his back to you to clean up. “I’ll drive you home when you’re finished.”

You pause mid bite. “Oh, no, I can take the train-“

“Do you really want t’walk all the way to the depot in those heels?” John cocks an brow, blue eyes dragging from your face, over your body and down your legs. There’s a slow burning intensity in the movement that sends a shiver down your spine.

You stare at him for a moment, uncertain of what to do. The last thing you need is to owe a vampire for anything. They’ll take your debts to the grave. It happened with your neighbor once - you learned early on to be wary of any offer made by one of them. Never make a deal with one of the devils.

“You won’t be indebted for it.” John chuckles as if he can read your damn mind. Maybe he can.

You chew your lip. It’s at least an hour walk to the metro station from here. You don’t want him to see where you live, though. It will ruin the illusion. Images flash through your mind of the craggily walls of your apartment building. The syringes that line the sidewalk. There’s that massive blood stain on the front steps they still haven’t cleaned up after five years.

But then you meet his eyes. They’re so sincere. So bright. Whatever that tug is in your chest that keeps giving into them pulls again. It’s unraveling you, making you insane. Surely that’s it, you’re finally going insane.

“Okay.” It comes out weaker than you’d like.

John grins a though you gave him the greatest gift in history. It makes your face hot - leaves you shifting awkwardly. You’re not used to that much emotion carved into their marble features. This coven is too expressive. It’s putting you on edge, leaving you with your guard up. Against what, though? What’s the point? Shouldn’t you be happy and play into their more excitable nature?

It’s too unfamiliar. Too otherworldly to see human emotion on their god like features.

A cool finger hooks under your chin, lifting your face to meet John’s gaze. “You think too much.”

You scoff and tear your face away from his hand. Thinking keeps you alive. The girls that don’t think don’t survive past their teens. You have to be smart to stay alive here. To even have a hope of keeping up with creatures who contain centuries of knowledge and experience. Who are so far ahead in the race the best you can do is limp along in the dust.

A valet pulls the car around. John changed into jeans and half zip sweater. You would die before admitting to the small bit of disappointment at him donning a shirt. You expect the black SUV from the night before to pull up. Instead, you’re met with a basic sedan. It’s still nice - obviously new. The seats are a soft, well cared for leather.

“So is this what you do? Invite prostitutes over for omlettes and tea and then drive them home?” You blurt as John starts the car. That itch to dissect their thought processes continues to plague the back of your mind.

“Tea?” He repeats, a brow raised.

“Simon made me tea last night.”

John laughs. “Kyle really did fuck your throat raw, then?”

You whirl on him, eyes wide.

“Don’t act so surprised. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Said you took it beautifully.” John sighs. “Bit jealous I didn’t get to watch the show. A good cigar and whiskey in hand? The perfect night, I think. Might have to recreate it…”

That last bit sounds more for him than for you.

You shouldn’t blush. You’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason to blush anymore. You have no right to be flustered over something as simple as sex. It’s the way he says it, you think. The way desire drips from every syllable as though he’s never said anything more true in his immortal life.

You just hide behind a huff and look out the window. “You’re all very weird, you know that?”

“Are we, now?” John rests his elbow on the door and his head on his hand. He weaves through the chaotic city roads expertly.

“You’re too…” You wrinkle your nose, pausing. The word gets lost on your tongue.

“Human?”

“If you say so.”

John chuckles. “You’re just as weird, you know that?”

“I am not weird!” You snap indignantly.

“If you say so.”

You have to do a double take when he pulls up to your apartment. Is it really that fast by car? What was that, ten minutes? The train is a nearly twenty minute ride with two fifteen minute walks. The walk is nearly three hours - two if you take the back way.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, voice dropping to a low drawl. You shake your head to clear it, pulling your respirator out of your coat.

“Don’t you need a-“ You stop when you meet John’s deadpan expression. “Oh, right.”

“Appreciate the concern, love.” He chuckles. It’s a surprisingly warm sound.

You reach for the door, respirator in hand and at the ready. You pause when John lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. Turning back, your eyes meeting his. There’s that storm again. The one he looked at you with before. Something roiling underneath the surface.

“Fancy?”

“Yes?”

“Before you go.” John leans forward. “C’mere.”

You assume he wants a kiss. It wouldn’t surprise you - a little thank you for the ride. Frankly, you should have thought of it first. Instead, he ducks his head to the side at the last moment. His hand tangles gently but firmly in your hair to pull your head to the side, leaving your neck craned and exposed. You freeze. Fear takes over - your heart rate immediately spiking. Your hands fist his coat, pushing as hard as you can against the unmoving mountain that is his body.

“John-“ Your voice cracks. “Please don’t-“

“Need t’ make sure you’re safe…” He mumbles.

A fang catches your skin. You freeze.

It drags across your neck, down the arch of your artery. You suck in a hear breath, the skin not quite breaking under the touch. Before you can speak or begin pushing again or even try to get out of the car, he bites down. A yelp escapes you as his teeth slowly sink in - only through the top most layer of skin. Not enough to puncture the artery or even for his other teeth to bite into your skin.

Your whole body shakes. “What’re you-“

John shushes you as he pulls away, eyes locked on the cut he made on your neck. You can feel the wet blood beginning to drip down your neck. His hand stays in your hair, holding you in place. The blue of his irises seems somehow brighter, pupils so narrowed they don’t look to be more than pinpricks. After a few beats he seems satisfied, letting your hair go and sitting back in his seat.

“Just a precaution, love.”The vampire looks you over, eyes suddenly painfully soft again. “Take care of yourself.”

Your eyes flick between his. A cold, rushing fear pumps through your veins. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you finally come to your senses, taking the chance to dash out of the car and toward your apartment. Fight or flight pushing away any ability to ask what the fuck that was. By the time you turn around to check behind you, John is far down the street.

You rush to your bathroom mirror, tossing your respirator to the ground as soon as you’re in your front door. It’s not deep. He didn’t even lick up after himself - a thin trail of blood pooling around your clavicle before continuing down. It wasn’t about drinking. You hiss as your fingers lightly test the tender skin.

What the fuck?

He’s a vampire. At the end of the day that’s all he is. No facial expressions or ability to cook will undo that he’s a different creature entirely. Was that what this is about? Reminding you what they are? The power they have? You wouldn’t put it past one of them, the sick fucks. What kind of fool were you to think they’re at all different.

After a shower and finally changing into some pajamas (minus a certain vampire’s tshirt that he will not be getting back) you go to grab your lamp. It doesn’t take long to set up the UV light, just dragging it out of storage and setting up the shade above it so that the rays concentrate downward onto your skin. You slowly sink to the ground. Exhaustion clings to your bones. They feel brittle and heavy simultaneously.

You sigh, curling up under the warm light like a cat. You have to be smart about how long you stay under it - the damn thing runs up the electricity bill like nothing else. Plus, too long under it can cause serious skin damage. As much as you’d rather go without, you’ve seen what happens to those that do.

You half heartedly re-count out the envelope of money, still feeling overwhelmed at the sheer amount of it. At the whole situation at hand. You realize quickly enough that despite having the money to do almost anything you don’t actually… know what to do. Despite the plan being to save up and get out of the slums you never really planned for what to do once you were out of the slums.

The realization that you never truly believed you could do it, even unconsciously, is a little heartbreaking.

Do you keep working at the club? Hope that these clients like you enough to keep up with your new lifestyle? Pray that they enjoy fucking you for long enough to save up? Do you even want to see them after what John just did? Do you look for another job? There isn’t much you can get when the whole of your resume is stamped with WHORE in bright red letters.

With a low groan you slump back on the floor and throw your arm over your eyes. Everything is so fucked. You’re lost in it and it’s all fucked.

Normally, you would avoid information about the people that come in and out of your club. They’re looking for discretion, after all. A place to hide away from the dealings of life. A fantasy. If you were smart, you’d stick with that habit. Especially when it comes to the ones that literally compel you to forget their business.

John just lost the right to any discretion after that stunt in the car.

You open up your shitty laptop that requires five hail mary’s to start. It greets you with the top headlines of the day, all just as enjoyable as you’d expect.

UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN FOUR MORE JANE DOES

NEW DRUG CYTH TAKING THE UNDERGROUND MARKETS BY STORM

CORPSE FOUND WITH BLOOD LEAKING FROM PORES

You close them out, for your own sanity, and type John’s name into the search bar. A few things come up - some company called One-Four-One with the most nothing description about what kind of company they are. They “develop products and services” - aka they’re a shell for shady bullshit. They’re listed as the benefactor for some lower city charities and given responsibility for several mergers and buy-outs in the upper city. All the things you’d expect from a corporation.

It’s too clean, though. You’ve been living in the underbelly long enough to know what a front looks like. Not that you’re surprised. Every vampire corporation is a cover for a million other little inner workings you will never be privy to.

The only pictures of John are a few from press reports. His imposing figure standing behind some ugly podium with a logo hastily plastered across the front. He has a commanding air about him behind all those microphones - like a preacher or a politician. Fitting.

Johnny and Kyle have a far more risqué library. Images with models and other beautiful women. The kinds of things you’d expect from young, playboy vampires stretching over the past century at least, according to the archive dates. The boys aren’t the focus of the images - it’s all paparazzi for the women - but they’re in them nonetheless. How the hell did Johnny manage to squeeze into a pair of leather pants like that?

Simon doesn’t even seem to exist. A total ghost. No matter how deep you go you can’t find a trace of him. You manage to get all the way back to the 1990s in the archive and still come up with jack shit.

You’re left with more questions than answers and a distinct understanding that you shouldn’t ask any of them. You knew that already, though, and you have no plans to let John Price close enough to speak to you anytime soon.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep up until you wake, alarm blaring in your ear that it’s time to get up and go to work. It never ends. You still feel so fucking tired, body heavy and eyes stinging. A haze settles over your mind as you fall into your constant routine. Makeup, hair, dress, respirator on, walk, train, respirator off, walk.

Your locker in the back room fights you, forcing you to practically break it open. Just another thing to leave you feeling angry and useless.

“I heard they got Red.” The girl beside you whispers. She’s mousy, new. A gossiper. She even tried to talk to you, at least before she found out that you apparently steal clients.

The girl she’s speaking to side eyes her. “What do you mean got ‘er?”

“With that new drug - Cyth or whatever.”

“Cyth isn’t real. It’s just people making up shit to cover up what the vamps are doing. As if we don’t already know.”

“But what about-“ You don’t hear the rest of what she says, her voice drowning out as you leave the back room.

Time seems to crawl by at the club without the men. You hate it. Not just the slowness of the day but the fact that they’ve had that effect on you. That these creatures you barley know have invaded your thoughts. Wormed themselves into the nooks and crannies of your psyche. Marked you - however temporarily that may be.

The patrons avoid your eyes. You serve their drinks, and where they would normally make a salacious remark or grab onto you they just offer a huffy thanks and ignore you. The tips are garbage, even the other serving girls notice and begin to basically steal your tables. It has to be the bite.

Why, though? Plenty of serving girls have fresh bite marks and they aren’t getting reactions like that. You can count four on the main floor right now.

At least once the day is over, it’s over. You can go home and hide away. Be angry in peace. Maybe make a plan for what to do. Maybe you can leave the city you and your friends talked about as teens. Except they’re all dead now and you’re pretty sure there isn’t anything outside of the dome anymore. At least not anything you could get to.

The other girls don’t walk with you to the metro anymore. The streets are never truly empty in the main city. There’s no real day or night. It’s only the places humans inhabit that become abandoned during the “night.” As you exit the lower city station, the streets empty out. It’s just you, footsteps echoing off buildings. The smog in the air only makes it darker - even harder to navigate.

Until a second pair of footsteps appears, fast and growing louder by the second. Before you can even begin to run or check behind you a force slams into you, sending you tumbling down onto harsh concrete and into an alley.

You’re cornered. There’s nowhere to go. Before you can grapple for your garlic spray the vampire has your wrists in his hand, pulling you up to dangle in front of him. The backs of your hands and arms scrape against the rough brick of the building he’s pinned you too. It hurts, cutting deep into your skin under the pressure of his strength.

The thing hisses, ripping off the neck guard attached to your respirator. The whole thing goes clattering to the ground. You choke on the poison air, lungs immediately rejecting it.

You tip your eyes to the obstructed sky. Of course it would end this way. It’s the end for you all, isn’t it? Just another body in an alley. Another free apartment for people to fight over. Another headline for people to frown at on the train. You wonder if they would use your name or just leave you as another Jane Doe.

What do the real stars look like, anyway?

He takes a long inhale and freezes in place. You can barely make out wide, frenzied eyes. A hood blocks any of his other features. His breath hastens, chest heaving against yours. What the hell is he waiting for?

Suddenly he reels backward, hissing and spitting. Muttering words you don’t understand. It drops you so suddenly that you collapse to the ground. Unable to gain any footing, still coughing and choking.

“What-“ You’re not even sure why you want to ask it a question. Before you can at all the thing runs away down the alley. Your hand travels up to your neck.

The bite.

A coughing fit sends you doubling over and you blearing grope around the ground for your respirator. At least it didn’t get smashed, you sigh in relief - clipping it back around your face and neck.

Your hands shake and you turn, staring up at that massive skyscraper hanging above the city. It’s taunting you. You feel like you can almost see John staring down at you, toying with you. An anger flares in your body so hot you almost feel as thought you’ve caught fire. He wants to fuck with you? To make you feel weak? To try to lay some sort of claim?

Fine. You can play ball.

A/N: John “you don’t need to know what’s going on, love, just do what I say” Price and Miss “don’t fuck with my independence” Fancy

I don’t love this chapter but I gotta get plot moving and grooving.

[latenightdaydreams]

MDNI🔞 (fem)

Master List

>cw fem/afab, p in v, oral, fingers

Just thinking about what it would be like to be König's long time girlfriend. The one he loves so much he takes them with him whenever he visits home.

König taking you home to visit his mom, but she’s an old fashion woman and doesn’t want you both sleeping in the same room. Because of this, König sneaks into your room at night as you sleep. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at you, sound asleep. He pulls up the blanket from the bottom and crawls under.

His lips kissing your feet and making you twitch, accidentally kicking him and making him chuckle to himself. He continues until he gets to your pussy. You always sleep without pants, making this easy for him.

König slips your underwear to the side, pulling your thick thighs apart slightly. He sticks his long fat tongue out and begins to lightly lick your clit. His lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly as he shakes his face between your lips. Your pussy has a powerful aroma from you sweating in the hot bedroom; he loves it.

His hands move your thighs apart more as he presses his face deeper into your pussy, trying to get room to tongue fuck your little cunt. Lapping up your arousal and drinking you in. You wake up feeling an overwhelming euphoric pleasure before realizing König is devouring you.

Sunday, during church, he takes a shower with you. The warm water cascading down your body as König has bent over, his large hands grasping your hips. He rams his cock into you, water splashing from the collision. Your pussy is tight around his throbbing and needy cock. A quiet mumble of German words leaves his hips as he sees the beautiful view of your wet ass jiggling.

When he’s ready to cum, you drop to your knees and open your mouth, hungry for his salty cum. Your eyes practically begging him to use you as a cum dumpster. Loud moans slip from his lips as he sees his white cum paint your face and fill your mouth.

When his mom is in the garden, he will pull you into the bathroom, setting you down on top of the sink counter, and shove three of his fat fingers into your cunt. Curling his fingers upward as he pumps his arms back and forth.

Your moans fall quietly from your lips as his other hand grabs a fistful of hair and forces you to look into his eyes. His hips roll, rubbing against your leg, needing the friction. His blown-out pupils hide his pale eyes. He looks deeply into your eyes waiting to see your face as you orgasm. It's the most beautiful thing in the world to him. König doesn’t stop until your body writhes and you squirt all over his hand and onto the bathroom floor. His mouth doing clean up so you can both go back and join his mother.

[ridingthatd]

𝄞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤

`• sukunaxfem!reader, nanamixfem!reader, gojoxfem!reader, getoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, bdsm, multiple orgasm, over simulation, brain fucked, kinky, filthy, sub! •`

you were always known as kaisens cum dumpster. but what if it was was the opposite.

𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧. sukuna has never showed you this side of him. it was always him fucking you till you pass out. not the opposite. but here he was whining and whimpering as you tug on his throbbing cock so painfully. he was whining as you place a vibrator on the tip of his red leaking dick. he was whimpering as you pinch his nipples between your fingers. you had been fucking him for hours. teasing his red nipples for hours. that it started producing a white liquid. his eyes widen as he watchs the white trail that left his nipples leak down his abs reaching his fat cock. he cries out as soon as you squeeze his nipples so hard causing white liquid to squirt out. you coo at him as you use his liquid as a lube. coating his leaking cock with it. he looks at you with such a pathetic eyes. so needy so desperate to cum. begging you with his eyes. you start pulling the piercing on his cocks. has him crossed eyed.

you loved him this way.

𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨. nanami lay next to you and sukuna. tears trailing down his face as he admires the way you were tugging on his cock. letting him cum all over your hands. while he lays here. a vibrator was attached to his cock. it was ahcing. so red. so desperate to cum. yet he wasn't allowed to. you didn't give him the permission. he arch his hips toward you. whinning out. trying to get your attention. he wanted to cum so bad. he wanted to spill the boiling liquid out. he needed to. "please" he whimpers out. it sounded always like a cry. that gains your attention. you slowly crawl toward. awing at the sight. "no! no! no!" he sobs as you remove the vibrator. he wanted to move. to crawl toward you. but he couldn't he was tied up. both his large biceps and thick thighs. it only took a swipe of your finger on his leaking red tip and a gentle "cum" and he was screaming. twitching as he shoots his seeds in the air.

he hated but love this.

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮. gojo was panting like a dog in heat. drool trailing down his puffy lips. he lost count on how many times he had came. his cock wasn't recognizable anymore. it was coated with his own white seeds. dripping down his balls. you had him chainded up. with a tight vibrator clenching around his cock. while you tease his gang buddies. you had him cumming. and cumming. non stop. no matter how much he begged for it to stop. he sobs as he feels his now what? twentieth orgasm approaching. hes surprised that he was able to squirt out. after how many times he came. he was trembling on the side. pumpers on his nipples. eyes clothed. he only could feel how wet his cock was. he only could feel the sting pleasure that the vibrator gave his fat cock. like it was drying him out. while the pumpers that were placed on his plumpy nipples. felt like it was trying to get milk out of him.

he can't hands this anymore.

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮. geto was shaking as you place all of their dicks together. squeezing them together. stroking them together. your hands were sloppily tugging on four cocks. the feeling of your cold hands. the feeling of his gangs warm cock. the feeling of sukuna pierced cock brushing against his. sticky sound filled the room. their wetness was mixing together. as you squeeze the tip of their cocks so hard. causing precum to drip down. geto was the first one to spill. squirting it all out on your hand and their cock. but you don't stop there you keep going. faster. faster. faster. their thighs were shaking. eyes rolling. so close. so close. soon enough you had all them gushing on each other. coating each other's fat cock with their boiling seeds. breathless they were. lay down almost passed out.

maybe it wasn't a bad idea.

this how they got here. this time it wasn't you who was all chained up. this time it wasn't you who was whinning and whimpering. it was them under your mercy.

"awe nanami you wanna cum baby? yea?" you aw at his flushed figure. drops of sweat covering his whole body. sliding down his pinkish nipples to his clenched abs. he eagerly nods. trying so hard to hold back his orgasm. the orgasm that you have be edging him. for what felt like hours.

his eyes lazily stare at you as you crawl on the bed to him. swinging your ass up in the air. giving clear view to sukuna who's behind you. giving him view of your wet panties. as soon as you reach nanami. you launch at him. putting your full body weight on him. causing him to whimper once you start brushing your perky ass against his sloppy flushed cock. but once you slowly lean down. taking his nipple between your teeth. he couldn't hold it no more.

streaks of cum started shooting against your ass. you groan as you feel how hot it was. his hips were shaking under you. while his cock was twitching against you. "em sorry! em sorry i-" he sobs. "i didn't mean to" another sob.

"tsk you know only good boys get to cum" you tsk at him. grabbing his sensitive cock between your hands. causing nanami to groan trembling under your touch. to simulated.

"and you know what happens to bad boys?" you smirk. as you push your hips up. reaching for something. your ass was inchs away from his face. he wanted it on his face so bad. and you knew it. his thoughts were cut off once you grab a red sliky rob between your hands. grabbing his hard cock. giving it a couple of strokes. before you tie it up with the rob. squeezing it hard making sure not a single drop of his warm seeds will be able to spill.

"fuck! fuck! i can't anymore! i can't!" gojo scream maniacally. as he reachs another orgasm. his large cock was coated with his own cum. you can barely see his dick. only the red abused tip. he was moving his hips trying to escape the feeling. but he couldn't.

sukuna was laying there looking all pretty. all fucked out. eyes crossed. twitching. his pierced cock hard again. the white liquid that his nipples produced was still trail down his cock. leaving it all pretty. mixed with his flushed cock and nipples. marks surrounded his body. your spit bites were on his pale thighs.

while geto was enjoying his time. whinning and whimpering. as you decided to bless him with you wet pussy dripping down his face. using his tongue piercing to satisfy you. your liquid was gushing all over his face. and as soon as you squirt on his mouth. you place a mouth ball. keeping your pussy juice inside of his mouth. and that had him rolling his eyes back into his skull. arching his hips and spilled on his abdomen.

you love them this way.

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: ̗̀➛ for part 1 click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[rishiguro]

“YOU’RE BLEEDING” - DABI

a/n: i love him so much it hurts

warnings: major character death. dabi‘s real identity. blood. mention of fire. desperate!dabi. implied murder. injury gets cauterized. 2k of angst.

“if you close your eyes, i’ll fucking burn you to a crisp” dabi‘s voice was stern as he talked, eyebrows furrowed with his teeth clenched. “you hear me?”

you blinked multiple times, trying to get your eyes to focus on the blurry person in front of you. why was it so bright? you tried lifting a hand up, shielding your face from the sun, however your arm felt too heavy for you to move it even an inch.

“huh?”

with heavy eyelids you decided to give it up, wanting nothing more than to succumb to your body‘s cries for sleep. it wouldn’t hurt, right? just a couple of minutes maybe?

you hummed, content with your decision, letting your eyelids drop.

“you’re going to stay awake and look at me with these dumb eyes and you’re going to listen to what i say” dabi‘s harsh voice made you rip your eyes open again, vision slowly clearing and allowing you to look at his face. “understood?”

you studied his face slowly but carefully. it felt like the first time you had seen him and you took your time to examine him.

your eyes wandered upwards from his chin, however halted the moment you looked at his eyes and the purple scars underlining them.

dabi‘s scars weren‘t red, were they?

“dabi,“ you tried, your voice weak but filled with concern. you had to tell him. what if something bad had happened to him?

“shut the fuck up,“ dabi insisted harshly, his jaw still clenched to the point where his words were barely comprehensible, “you can’t talk right now” the villain knew he had to get you out of here somehow, this area wasn’t safe for you anymore. you couldn’t move, you couldn’t defend yourself.

he was pretty.

“dabi”

didn’t you hear what he had just said? he grew impatient, couldn’t you just listen to him for once? it took everything in him to not yell as he looked around, assessing the situation the both of you were in. the alley was dark, only a dumpster shielding the two of you from the street if it wasn’t for the blue flames burning behind it. a charred heap lazily kicked away, ashes dirtying the cold floor even further. at least he couldn’t hurt you any further. “i said shut up”

cursing loudly, he took off his jacket, grabbing the hem of his white shirt and roughly pulling at it. the tearing of the fabric was louder than you could bear, ears starting to ring in pain.

“touya,“ you whispered impatiently, mentally praying for him to just listen.

“be fucking-“

“you’re bleeding,“ you interrupted him, not paying any attention to the way his head snapped back at you and how he was fully ready to cuss you out.

“the hell have i just-“

“why are you bleeding?” you asked, concern filling your voice. “are you hurt?”

whatever it was that dabi believed you would‘ve said to him, it certainly wasn’t this.

him? hurt? were you serious?

dabi couldn’t help but huff at your questions, rolling his eyes. “you’re one to fucking talk”

“now just—“ he stopped briefly, assessing the state you were in. he had to act quick, do something. “just lay still and don’t fucking talk”

you however didn’t pay any attention to what he was saying, instead carefully lifting your hand to his face, thumb rubbing over the scarred skin.

blood.

“i’m gonna get you out of here,“ dabi promised. he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. you grew weaker by the minute and he for sure wasn’t skilled enough to save you right then and there. but he had to do something. anything.

“i’m tired,” you whispered, your heavy eyelids close to shutting again.

“no you’re not,” dabi replied, skillfully dismissing you.

“don’t you dare to close your eyes,“ he continued to threaten you, a warm hand grabbing your face and turning you towards him again, “keep looking at me. you hear me? you’re not going to go now”

you didn’t like how his voice sounded, so rough and hoarse, almost like he couldn’t speak properly. it was a rare sigh for you to see, the villain was hunched over you, his breathing flat and his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you couldn’t see what he was doing and you didn’t have the strength to lift your head, even if you wanted to. but something about him was so raw, so vulnerable.

he was hurt, dabi was bleeding, his blood still adorning the tip of your fingers, and yet he kept talking to you, letting you hear him and telling you to just listen to him, do as he told you to. that’s the least you could do for him, wasn’t it?

you groaned, opening your eyes again, even though everything in yourself protested against it. you were so tired. “that’s it, keep looking right at me, you’re doing so good for me”

“you’re pretty” dabi froze, his eyebrows furrowing, before shaking his head, dismissing you again.

him and pretty?

“you’re seeing things,” he muttered, throwing his head around and searching the area. the blue flames burning multiple feet away, shielding the two of you from the streets slowly started to dwindle. dabi could hear the commotion that was going on on the other side of it, the bright fire attracting the attention of civilians. it wouldn’t be much longer till a hero would come around.

he had to get you out of here, move you to a safer location. dabi cursed as soon he looked back at you. you were pale, too pale, and your breathing was barely audible. he didn’t even know if you were breathing properly. “i’m gonna pick you up now. it’s gonna hurt,” he warned, trying to shove his arms underneath you to support your body and carry you away.

“don’t,” you pleaded, looking at the villain with a scared look on your face. he couldn’t do that now, he shouldn’t. he was hurt, he was bleeding. you had to take care of him, you had to make sure he was safe, but you were too weak to get up. why were you so weak?

dabi’s jaw clenched, shaking his head at your protests. why couldn’t you just listen to him for once in your life? “this is really not the time for you to pick a fucking argument with me, so shut up and let me get you out of here”

weakly you shook you head, fully aware that you weren‘t strong enough to stop him in his doing anyways. “no, you’re bleeding,” you insisted. why wasn’t he listening to you?

why were you so stubborn? digging his fingernails into his palm, dabi fed into the flames shielding you from the public before he turned back to you. his mind was racing as he desperately tried to come up with a solution, a way out of any kind. “i fucking know, but so are you so please just—“

why was he so adamant to get you to agree to him? why couldn’t he just move? why couldn’t he just do as he wanted?

“you shouldn’t be bleeding,” you stated.

you shouldn’t be bleeding either, dabi thought, and yet here you were.

“for fucks sake, just please shut up,” dabi grew more and more agitated by the second, feeling the anger rise in him, skin slowly heating up. why was it so hard for you to listen, just for once? dabi cringed as he looked down at your torso, your shirt soaked in blood that by now has started to spill on the ground underneath you, your face drained of all color. dabi could hear how hard it was for you to talk, how your voice was nothing more than a pained whisper, a plea for him to listen to you. “stop talking, you’re only making it worse,” he chided, now not caring anymore about the potential pain he might cause you. he cursed, ripping a hole in your top, only to immediately shut his eyes in defeat as he assessed the damage.

this was bad. there was no way he could get you away in time.

turning your head away from him in shame, you muttered a small apology. you always managed to make things worse somehow.

truth to be told, dabi didn’t pay a lot of attention to what you said. instead he carelessly pulled on his own white shirt again, to the point where he ripped the hem of it. fisting the fabric he pressed it against your open flesh, watching as it turned crimson way too fast. “you should be. shit, it won’t stop”

you couldn’t help but smile weakly at his snarky comment. “you’re an asshole”

“doing my best, doll,” the villain replied, his lips curved upward too. however his smile fell immediately as he tossed the bloody fabric away.

dabi pulled at his hair in frustration. this wasn’t working, he wasn’t helping. he couldn’t just helplessly watch as your life force drained away, flowing right out of your body.

his stomach turned at the thought of his head, the only way he could try to save you right now— but he hated it. he didn’t want to do it, he didn’t want to hurt you even more. but what more could he do? if he cauterized the wound maybe then he could get you away, to safety, maybe then someone could patch you up, somehow.

maybe you could be kept alive then.

dabi swallowed, closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath. “i need to stop the bleeding, this is gonna be very hot but i need you to take it“

he didn’t wait for your reply till he pressed his palm against your wound, heating it up as soon as he came in contact with it. dabi turned his head away in shame as you cried out in pain. the smell of burned flesh filled the villain‘s nostrils, making his stomach turn in disgust.

when he turned back to you, after moments that felt like an eternity, he was horrified as he saw you with your eyes closed, your chest barely moving. were you even breathing anymore? “keep your eyes open,” he commanded sternly, hand against your blood-stained cheek.

but you barely moved. only now did he notice how cold your skin felt against his hot hands. eyes wide in terror, he grabbed your shoulders, slightly shaking your body. “fuck, stay with me”

“please, don’t do this to me,” dabi pleaded, pulling your form into his lap.

“look at me,” he continued, shoving a hand underneath your knees and lifting your body off the ground. he pulled you close to him, hoping that his own warmth might heat your body up a little.

“listen to me”

dabi ran faster than he ever has, pressing you against his chest. he had to run faster, be quicker, get you away from here.

“stay with me,” he pleaded, trying to catch his breath.

you however didn’t seem to listen, to even hear him and his cries. no, you didn’t move in his arms. you almost looked like you were sleeping peacefully.

too peaceful for his liking.

dabi clenched his teeth, muttering curses under his breath. “are you deaf, you’re gonna keep your pretty eyes open and you’re gonna stay right here with me,” he commanded coldly, trying to mask just how desperate he was.

you could barely hear what the villain had just said. it took you everything to open your eyes again, to look at him. was he always this blurry? “i don’t feel so good, touya”

“i know, fuck, i know,” he answered, turning around to see if someone had been following him. hiding between some dumpsters in the outskirts of the city, he carefully placed you down again, grabbing your hands to get your attention. “but you’re not gonna leave me now, forget it”

dabi sat down in front of you, grabbing your shoulders as he noticed you slumping. “i’m not letting you,” he insisted, pulling you into a tight embrace. you couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t just go and leave him behind. he needed you. he wanted you by his side, he had to have you by his side. “you’re not fucking leaving me”

you meant so much to him that it hurt, and now you were practically at death‘s door, and dabi couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to leave him. if you didn’t, why weren’t you fighting harder? why weren’t you staying awake? why couldn’t you hold on for him just a while longer?

you only managed to sigh in his hold, your eyes now too heavy to keep open. it wouldn’t hurt to shut them, right? you were so tired, so, so tired.

dabi stayed like that, holding you close to him, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. you were going to be okay, you had to be. you couldn’t leave him. “hey, open your eyes”

so why didn’t you respond? why were you so still? “i said open your eyes”

why were you so cold? why were you so pale? “fuck, open them”

why didn’t you move?

“doll, please,” the villain begged, pushing you away from him to take a look at you. you‘re eyes were shut, your mouth slightly opened, almost like you were just about to say something. you were, weren’t you? “just look at me, you can do that, can’t you?”

but why didn’t you do anything? why were you so still? you were supposed to open your eyes, to reassure him, to tell him you were here with him, that you listened, that you wouldn’t leave him. that you‘d never leave him.

“open your fucking eyes!“ he demanded now, violently shaking your still form. a loud, pained cry burned his throat as he threw his head back.

“you said you wouldn’t leave me!” he cried, yelling at you accusingly, like he was expecting you to answer, to justify yourself. how could you just leave him behind like that, how could you just go like you didn’t care how he felt about it. “i told you, you can’t!”

dabi pressed you against his chest again, curling your body in his hold, rocking the both of you back and forth. “i need you, please”

as he looked down at your face, he noticed small drops of crimson falling onto your skin.

dabi was bleeding.

reblogs are appreciated

[karikitdemonrp]

//starter for @toranoya

The days had been a bit more hectic due to villain's running amuck because of the league of villain's becoming more and more bold.

Hero's began having more patrols to try and counter this uptick in villainy. Many of these villains weren't much to worry about but it's still a hero's job to deal with villains.

Today wasn't much special, a few bold villains here and there but nothing from the league of villains so it was fairly peaceful for a Saturday afternoon. Nice weather, not super warm but clearly getting warmer for a bit longer. A few clouds provided a bit of relief from the heat over time which was nice for one child in particular who was sitting out in the heat all on her own.

She wasn't doing much, simply holding up a sign that read "Very hungry, spare money for food?" In very messy almost illegible handwriting. The child was small and dirty and clearly starving. Her clothes were torn and she looked beyond tired and fatigued, nodding off every so often as people passed by. A few people tossed some coin in the broken jar she clearly found in the dumpster near by to hold the money, but not a lot. Not many people acknowledged her for long aside from that since they had better things to do or were simply rushing about their own lives.

The child let out a yawn and just stared at the ground, fighting to stay awake so if a villain came by she could try to get up and hide for a while but in all honesty she likely wouldn't be able to get very far because she was so tired.