#you bitches are not NEARLY scared enough

[aemiron-main]

one of my favourite hobbies is scaring tourists that come out here….. people are not nearly scared enough of the forest. Im doing it for their own good. I’m wrapping a fear pill in salami for them like giving medication to a dog.

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[whinypuppi]

ᶜʷ: ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸᵍⁱʳˡ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ , “ᵃⁿⁱᵐᵃˡ” ⁿᵉᵍˡᵉᶜᵗ , ᵖᵉᵗ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ , ᵖʳᵃⁱˢᵉ , ᶜˡᵃʷⁱⁿᵍ & ᵇⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ , ᶜᵒˡˡᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ , ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵖⁱᵉ , ᵇʳᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱⁿᵏ

not proofread!

the night satoru gojo decided to adopt a hybrid, you were the lucky girl. he could hardly contain himself when he saw your sweet little face, wide eyes, puffy tail, and laid-back ears. he knew how nervous you were—poor baby. probably so sick and tired of being caged up all day. despite what their website said online, they completely neglected all of the hyrids here. the entire “hybrids are people too” went straight out the window.

despite your malnourished condition, he knew you were the one. $2500? no problem. he sure had it on him and paid in full instantly. during the entire process, you were so shy and scared—shaking like a leaf. either the staff were mistreating you, or you had a bad experience with a past owner. either way, he sympathized with you. he wanted you to know you were safe.

when you came home with him, he already had stuff set up for you. he planned on getting a dog or a cat, and considering you were a dog, he had things set up for you. hybrid food, water, blankets, a soft but sizey bed, and training pads (just in case).

“well, here we are, puppy! your forever home!” he grinned ear to ear, letting you sniff around cautiously so you could get used to your surroundings. his friendly voice did make you somewhat ease up, but you couldn't be sure.

“it's better than that shelter, for sure. are you hungry?” that made your ears perk up—slowly turning to look from him. it was almost amusing how you tiptoed on all fours while taking in the sight of your new home.

“oh? is that it, puppy?” he spoke enthusiastically, but also in that tone you'd speak to a baby. “they didn't even tell me your name, pretty. what is it?” you slowly whispered it, sitting in front of him timidly. he repeatedly it, humming and letting it roll off of his tongue. it had a nice ring to it.

.·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.

you'd been with gojo for a couple of weeks by now, having completely gotten attached to him and unable to be separated from him. you'd whine and sniffle if he left you alone. you couldn't even sleep separately anymore.

everyday, your became needier and would crave his attention constantly. he'd even take you out for walks with your pretty little pink color on to burn off some of your energy. it was weird how your body language was beginning to change, but he didn't question it.

that was until the day you went into...heat. actual heat. he facepalmed at not having thought about it beforehand or even doing research before he adopted you.

when you woke up, you panted, your face was hot, and you clenched your thighs. gojo was still sleeping silently next to you—his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath he took.

you clung to him, huffing in a frustrated tone before grinding your lower half against him. it felt good. the mini stimulation nearly made you bite your lip. you hadn't even felt something like this before—having been in the shelter all of your life, and were always forced to take heat suppressents in the form of bitter pills.

you kept up the movements, only thrusting your hips forward gently at an attempt to not wake him. you cried out into his clothed shoulder—burying your face into the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent. he smelt manly from the intense yet inviting cologne he always wore. it smelt extra good this morning for some reason.

your tongue ran over his pulse while lapping at his skin and leaving little bite marks. not enough to hurt or wake him, but noticeable and would probably get him questionable looks if they lingered long enough.

“satoru,” you whined breathily, acting like a bitch in heat (which you were) as you picked up the speed of your thrusts and claws dug into the flesh of his forearm. your panties he bought for you were already drenched and clinging to your pretty pussy, some of your slick dripping down your thigh.

your legs shook, your heart raced, your tongue lulled out, then everything stopped—

satoru groaned softly, eyes fluttering open as he ran a hand through his hair. you eeped, pulling back. the knot that was bound to snap in your stomach dulled, leaving an unfamiliar ache. it made you feel sexually frustrated, but at the same time—so so guilty.

you loved satoru a lot. he was your owner and took special care of his sweet girl, but this? whatever you were doing was wrong in your eyes, and it surely would be in his too. bad dog. he'll take you back to the shelter for being a disgusting mutt.

“mm, baby?” he spoke in his usual tired voice, yet it felt so different this time around. you swore you got chills and your ears fell back. that low and sultry tone shot straight to your core.

“m-morning,” you mumbled, eyes drifting away from his curious ones as you tried not to look guilty. the way you chewed on your bottom lip and your timid ears gave it away, though.

“it sounded like you were hurt. are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked with worry, unlike his usual sweet-as-honey tone.

you nodded vigorously, but it was an obvious lie. he held his arms out, gesturing for you to come closer. “you don't have to lie to me. makes it feel like you don't trust me. hurts my feelings.” he pursed his lip, pulling you close and petting you. he scratched behind your ears and gently pulled your little tail, just trying to get a rise out of you.

when you let out a whine, he stopped, and his eyes widened slightly. he's pulled your tail gently in the past to tease you, but this was the only time you made a noise like that.

he instantly took note of the rising blush on your cheeks and building embarrassment, petting you once more. “um, sweetheart.”

you looked up at him with your pretty eyes he admired even more than his own, yet they were glazed over with...something he hadn't put his finger on until now.

“are you in heat?” he knew it might've been an embarrassing question to ask, but the way you were behaving, and that little noise you made lit a flame in him that shouldn't have. it was the only logical explanation, anyway.

a pause, your body tensing, the way your breath hitched. he got his answer by that alone, but hearing you admit it would've riled him up beyond comprehension. “s-satoru, 'm sorry! please—don't take me back to the shelter!..” you were already pleading—thinking your badly-hidden secret was given away. tears brgan to weld in your eyes, yet he held your cheek lovingly.

he frowned. did you really think he'd hate you that easily? you were his sweet puppy. he would never! “sweetheart, look at me.” he tilted your chin up, wiping the tears from your pretty eyelashes.

“'m not mad. i wanna help you, pretty girl. would you like that?” the idea made your thighs clench, and you nodded shyly.

he wasted no time lifting your shift over your head and instantly being met by the sight of your perky breasts. what he always forgot to do was buy you bras, but he never had an issue with staring. he respected you, at least, but now he could stare all he wanted. your body was perfect and your nipples hardened from the slight brush of his fingers against them, combined with the cold air.

“please—hurry. wan' you s'bad.” your voice was whiny and he chuckled, maybe even thanking you for being able to get to it. your eyes shot down to the boxers he slept in, a bulge straining against them.

“always so needy,” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before standing up and tugging his boxers down with a content sigh. you wanted him to feel good too, considering it looked painful as it twitched with your eyes on it.

“like what you see?” of course you did. he was already bigger than you height-wise, but hell, he was nearly 8 inches. he was gonna split you open. your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight, and you tried not to gasp.

“i promise i'll be gentle. you can tell me to stop at any time.” he reassured you, ruffling your hair before lifting your hips carefully to slide down your pants and pretty panties. you were fucking dripping. his cock pulsed.

“so wet...” he ran his finger over your slit and watched you squirm. “all f'me? i feel special.” he brought his thumb to his lips and sucked gently, grunting in content as if you were the sweetest little thing he ever had the pleasure of tasting.

“'toru, you're teasin' me—” you huffed softly, your legs attempting to close from his heavy gaze, but he dug his nails into your hips and held your thighs apart.

“ah ah ah.” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “none of that, pretty. i wanna see all of you. especially this pretty cunt.”

he leaned forward, his breath fanning over it and making you even wetter. he inhaled deeply, but you attempted to push his head away out of shame. he surely didn't have any.

he knew you were getting impatient, and he was too, so he spared you both any more excruciating waiting and brought his tip to your clit. the gentle rub he did against it made you jolt, your tail starting to wag. cute.

“it'll sting. bare with me, ok?” he warned you, pressing another kiss to your cheek, then neck. he was careful with you, but he knew you wanted it rough.

when you nodded in acknowledgement, he slowly began to slide the tip in, and he swore he couldn't breathe. how could you feel so heavenly he could hardly put his tip in without wanting to thrust impatiently?

you sharply gasped, whimpering as more tears pricked at your vision. “sh, sh. i know, i know—fuck. you feel real good, puppy.” he praised you, rubbing your ears as his pelvis connected with yours. in one dangerously rough thrust, he was fully inside of you, and you whined pathetically, big globs of tears already streaming down your puffy cheeks. he just couldn't help it—you were so tempting. so wet and warm...he wanted to be in you forever.

he groaned loudly, muttering out curses as you dug your claws into the back of his neck. your legs were already locked around his waist which helped you with stability, but it hurt an insane amount. he was aware of this and already started to feel guilty, but it faded almost instantly when he felt you clench. you breathed out a shudder, letting your head fall limp agaisnt his shoulder when his thrusts continued.

“god—haven't ever felt a cunt like yours before, puppy,” he spoke in almost a whiny tone, which made you try to suck him in deeper. that spot he hit inside of you against your velvety walls with each buck of his hips made you wail, yet you didn't want it to stop.

“yeah...yeaaaah. just like that. my sweet girl's so tight all for me.” he would've cried from how heavenly your little cunt was if it weren't for the broken moan and pathetic laugh he used to cover up how he was falling apart with each thrust.

he was already so sloppy. he couldn't help it. you'd forgive him, right? you were his sweet puppy—without a doubt, you would. you wanted to be bred, anyway. it was an instinct. having him breed you and fill you full of his cum—maybe even have his babies made you squeal.

“shit shit shit— 'm so sorry, sweet girl. gonna cum in you so early. you aren't mad, r-ight?” the way his voice cracked on the last word added to your wetness. he knew all you could do was let out little noises, so it was mostly a rhetorical question.

the absolute squelching and skin slapping was beyond unholy, but sounded so good to his ears. he was on cloud nine—eyes rolling back as his thrusts became rapid and his cock slammed against your cervix aggressively. he was moaning with each thrust, and you couldn't stop crying. there was no possible way you could stop. the pain mixed with pleasure was so unbearably good.

“FUCK! baby, gonna let me breed you? fill you to the brim and make you have my kids? does it get you off, sweet girl?” his voice sounded so broken, yet sultry. with one last, sloppy thrust, he completely filled you up and made you brokenly sob. your pussy spasmed and your thighs quivered, cumming as well all over his cock.

“my sweet baby.” he kissed you so gently you barely felt it due to the overstimulation and how out of it you were.

he praised you constantly as he cleaned you up and let you rest in bed. every couple hours he was coming in to bring you water or tend to your needs. sometimes he'd even lay with you to help with your separation anxiety. you loved him so much.

his poor, sweet puppy.

[zooone]

(PEEK-A)-BOO !!! - blurb

in which !!! - the gojo family stay at six flags for too long, and fright fest begins while they're in the middle of a ride. now, satoru and his wife have to find a way to keep both of their kids at bay while scare actors are coming up to them left and right.

words !!! - 1k. blurb

content !!! - dilf! gojo (muehehe), older gojo and reader, satoru gojo is STILL a bitch!!!

an !!! - tsumiki and megumi are your kids just for convenience!!! i didnt wanna make a whole new character just to be his kid :( this is not to be confused with another theme park esque fic with dad toji that i will be posting in the future!!!

masterlist !!!

"are you sure, honey? its almost 6 o'clock."

"one more ride never hurt anyone."

is what satoru gojo said, before one more ride hurt everyone.

tsumiki was scared out of her mind, clinging onto satoru's shirt. megumi, on the other hand, was fast asleep in his mother's arms.

"papa!" tsumiki clung on tighter, her father's shirt balling up in her little hands. "i'm scared!"

"i know, honey." he hoisted her back up on his arm, using his unoccupied hand to shield her eyes. "we're almost there."

a total lie. they were on the complete opposite side of the park.

his wife eyed him, knowing this truth, and he just responded with a little shrug.

"the people just wanna say hi, tsumiki." he giggled softly, quickly adjusting his blue sunglasses before cradling his daughter once more. "they're friends."

tsumiki only responded with a shriek, her face disappearing into satoru's shoulder. he held onto her tighter, his wristwatch nearly bumping into her leg.

his strides, of course, were long. much longer than his wife's, and she struggled to keep up with him.

"satoru-" she panted, "i told you that we shouldn't have gone on that ride."

"relax, relax," his low voice always managed to calm her down. "the kids had fun. thats all that matters to me."

a sigh escaped her lips as she looked down at megumi in her arms. he was almost too big for her to carry now, and a bittersweet feeling found its way in her blood. she held him a little tighter.

"watch out." she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to find satoru pulling her in closer to his person. his large hand stayed on the side of her arm, making sure that she was secure at the side of his body.

when she turned around, a scare actor was there. they shrieked at her, raising their arms up. and she jumped, thankfully not enough to wake megumi up.

"i tried to warn you." satoru giggled. he walked at a slower pace, as to give his wife an easier time.

"is mama okay?" tsumiki spoke, muffled in her dad's shoulder. her voice was small and shaky, and satoru noticed this, rubbing small circles into her back.

"she's okay, baby. she just got a little startled. heh." he smiled, and his wife noticed small specks of white stubble on his cheeks. "the people are playing peek-a-boo with mama."

"peek-a-boo?" her head came up from satoru's shoulder. "i wanna play peek-a-boo."

"okay, ready?" he noticed another scare actor coming up to them, "peek a-"

the scare actor screamed, practically shrieking in his face. but when he looked at his daughter, she had a priceless smile on her face.

"papa do it again!" her cheeks puffed up with excitement, her giggles filling his ears.

"give me a second." he spoke, in more of a sing-song tone. he ran up to another scare actor.

"satoru!" his wife yelled as he practically sprinted away. she quickly covered megumi's ears, but to no avail, he woke up. "oh i'm sorry baby- go back to sleep-"

"where's tsumiki?" his eyes slowly blinked open, eyebrows furrowing to his signature default expression of a frown.

"with papa right now. they're playing peek-a-boo." she tried to speed walk up to her husband, but he was off running from one scare actor to another. his giggles blended in with tsumiki's, and she felt her heart warming.

once she caught up to satoru, the two were already howling with laughter. the edges of satoru's eyes wrinkled slightly, and tsumiki's small figure was shaking from laughter in his arms.

"mama! papa silly!" tsumiki spoke through a fit of quick giggles.

"i know, honey, that's why i married him," she panted out her response, feeling her lungs fill up with the night's cold air.

satoru sighed. his free hand went to the back of his wife's head, cradling it as he kissed her. they rarely had their own alone time, and thus they had barely kissed. of course, a simple peck would suffice, but it had been a while since they had a long, gentle kiss.

"ew!" megumi called out, his voice still rough from sleep. "stop it!"

"okay! sorry! i couldn't help it." satoru pulled away, but of course without a wink to seal it off.

they'd been married for years, known each other for even longer. but still, that little lopsided grin and wink combination made her feel butterflies in her stomach. like she did when they first started dating.

"mamas so beautiful, isn't she?" satoru sighed happily, resting his head on tsumiki's.

"mama's really red..." tsumiki pointed.

"yeah .. i tend to have that effect on her." he responded, scratching the back of his neck. suddenly the butterflies flew away.

"stop that. let's go to the car now." she hit his shoulder lightly, making him dramatically whine.

"you know you love me," he whined, bottom lip sticking out.

she walked, tilted slightly as megumi was still on her hip. even if she was practically running through six flags after a long day, she had a sort of energy in her body that made it impossible for her to stop smiling.

"hey!" satoru kept up, shuffling behind her wearily. "say it back!"

he would pout all the way to the park, even despite tsumiki's efforts to fix his face. and even as they sat the two kids in their carseats, even as he climbed into the driver's seat, his pout stayed.

"what's that look for."

"you never said i love you back."

"i love you, satoru." she put her hand up to his face and pulled him in for a kiss. she felt his stubble on her palm.

"i love you too, honey."

9.16.24

masterlist !!!

[eddiethehunted]

hey y'all here's yet another "i'll probably never finish this" snippet — this one's considerably longer (near 3k words!) so maybe it's okay <3

post-vecna, fwb, idiot4idiot, you know how it is. trans eddie but it’s not really relevant to this piece lol

18+ for sexual themes and also one usage of the f slur

——————————

Eddie knows he's acting weird—or, weirder than usual—but he can't muster up the energy to care.

He's not really talking, sitting off to the side and kind of just listening in. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with anyone, or whatever—it’s that he doesn’t think he can handle hanging out with Steve.

He's successfully avoided Steve all night and he plans on keeping it that way. That is, of course, until Robin, tipsy and warm and happy from the beers she's been crushing all night, gets up and pulls Steve over to the swing chair with them.

Eddie considers fleeing while she’s not sitting on his knee forcing him to stay there, but he’s not quick enough. She flops back down and brings Steve with her, giggling as he stumbles and bitches and complains about it, making the chair swing back and forth and jostle them all together in a way that would normally have Eddie laughing with her.

Instead, all he can do is stare beyond Nancy’s head, rolling his beer between his hands distractedly and wishing the alcohol would hit him even half as hard as it’s hitting Robin. Maybe then he wouldn’t want to fucking bash his head into the wall right now.

He can see Nancy giving him a weird, curious stare, and look, he likes Nancy, really. She’s cool and badass and he’s kind of scared of her, which is awesome. But he’s not about to talk to Steve’s ex about this fucked up friends-with-benefits to maybe-not-even-friends-anymore-and-definitely-without-benefits trainwreck he’s gotten himself into.

Robin sandwiches herself in between them, a sharp elbow digging uncomfortably into Eddie's ribs. Eddie is being absolutely assaulted by Steve's cologne and presence and warmth and he's not okay. His heart feels like it's going to explode and he wants to leave so fucking bad.

Robin starts rambling about graduation and college to Nancy. Eddie tunes out quick, because Steve's arm is flung over the back of the chair and he's rubbing these distracting little circles on Eddie's shoulder, through his shirt. He can feel Steve's eyes burning holes into the side of his face, over Robin's head.

Steve's touch is distracting normally, but even more so now because it's been almost three weeks since Eddie has seen him, and even longer since he's touched him. The last time they were this close, he'd had Steve climbing into his lap, panting and grinding on him and kissing him like he was trying to steal the air out of his lungs. Whispering Eddie’s name like a prayer between breathy little whines as if it fucking meant something.

The painful throbbing in his chest is nearly as bad as the uncomfortable ache between his legs, and he almost forgets that he's trying to distance himself when he feels Steve shift closer. Robin's leaning forward to talk to Nancy, and that leaves plenty of room behind her for Steve's hand to move, to curl into the hair at the nape of Eddie's neck. Plenty of room for Steve to lean into his space and god, Eddie is having a really hard time keeping a grip on his self-control because all he wants to do right now is pull Steve into the bathroom and fucking get on his knees and make it so that he's the only one Steve will ever want.

“Been a while,” Steve says conversationally. Casually. Eddie wants to fucking kick him.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, not willing to give Steve more than that. It earns him a huff, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see that Steve’s rolling his eyes at him.

His voice is quiet and trickles down Eddie's spine when he says, "You've been avoiding me."

Eddie can't think of a good response, his voice sticking in his throat, his brain full of static. He finally swallows and vaguely says, "You think so?"

Steve's hand squeezes the back of his neck and every single nerve in Eddie's body lights up. Robin is right there. Like, she's half-sitting on Eddie's thigh. This is—its a really bad fucking time for Steve to be touching him.

"Why?" Steve asks him. He sounds hurt, but also a bit angry, and that shouldn't turn Eddie on but it really, really does.

He likes that Steve's hurting. No, really, he does. Because at least it's not just him. (He's never claimed to be a nice fucking person, okay? He knows he's a bit of a selfish asshole, and he's fine with that.)

He's not having this conversation while Robin is sitting on top of both of them, so he jerks away from Steve and gets up, not paying any attention to Robin's indignant shout as he storms into her house. He's been here enough times that he knows the way to the bathroom even with all the lights off, but he doesn't have the chance to shut the door before there's a foot blocking it.

Steve pushes in, looking pissed, and so, so hot. Eddie's knees feel like jelly and his stomach squirms like he's going to be sick. Emotional confrontation is like, the actual fucking worst, and there's Steve, angry and hurt and crowding him against the counter in Robin's bathroom, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

His hands are on either side of Eddie's hips and their faces are so close Eddie could count his eyelashes if he tried hard enough. His cheeks are burning, his voice stuck in his throat, and he's annoyed because Steve knows that being pinned like this gets Eddie hot, and that's not fucking fair.

"I'm not," Eddie lies through his teeth. "I've just been busy—"

Steve snorts, cutting him off with a mean laugh. "Yeah, real busy, I bet. Must be hard work pretending I don't fucking exist."

Eddie is like, five seconds away from either punching Steve or kissing him. He hates that this is doing something for him right now, hates how hot Steve is when he's mad.

"Get off of me," he snaps, but it doesn't sound convincing. Steve's gaze drops to his mouth, just for a second, before it flicks back up.

"Did I do something?" he asks desperately, looks at Eddie with those big, dark eyes. Eddie presses his lips together firmly, biting the insides of them, because if Steve keeps looking at him like that Eddie's gonna let him bend him over this goddamn countertop. Steve seems to take his silence as confirmation, and makes a quiet, sad sound.

"You can tell me, Eddie," he says, a bit softer, like some of the anger has evaporated out of him. "I miss you."

That hurts.

Eddie wants to throw up. "Don't say that to me."

Steve frowns. "Why not? What, I can't miss you? Can't wonder what the fuck I did to piss you off so bad that you won't even look at me?" He backs off, a bit, enough for Eddie to breathe, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "One day you're shoving my dick down your throat and the next you're acting like you hate me. Kinda makes a guy wonder what happened."

"I don't—hate you," Eddie manages, nearly choking on his words because he doesn't want to say them, but the sad, hurt eyes Steve's giving him pull them from out of his chest. "I'm not even—I'm not even fucking mad at you, Steve. I'm not—this is so stupid." He rubs a hand over his face. “I just… I can't keep doing this shit. This—whatever it is.” He gestures vaguely between them. “Hooking up. Whatever."

Steve's shoulders slump forward. He moves back, until they're not touching at all and there's a few feet between them. He sounds exasperated and frustrated when he says, "Okay, so don't! You could've just told me you didn't want to fuck around anymore. I’m not gonna be mad or something. Jesus, Eddie, you can like, talk to me. I give a shit about being friends more than, like, getting some ass or whatever.”

Steve's not getting it, which is maybe for the best, but the distance between them makes Eddie want to pull his hair out. "No, I mean—" He can't help but reach out, tugging Steve a little closer by the loop of his jeans, which makes him flush so pretty. “I don't wanna stop."

"So...don't?" Steve says slowly, warily. One warm hand wraps around Eddie's arm, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. "We can keep... I dunno, doing whatever. Whatever you want. Even just… hanging out. Or watching a movie, or—uh, yeah, whatever.” He swallows, glances down at Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s sure he knows just what Steve’s thinking about.

He can't help but laugh, because he's sure that what he really wants is not within the realm of what Steve is okay with. Sex is fun, but—god, Eddie wants to be allowed to love him. He’s already opened himself up more to Steve than anyone else. Steve already knows things about him that nobody else does, except his uncle. It’d been so easy to fall in love with him.

"That's the thing. I don't think we're on the same page."

Steve looks so confused that it would be funny if Eddie wasn’t on the verge of spilling his guts, of throwing up his heart all over Steve right now.

“I need you to elaborate, man,” Steve says. “‘Cause you’re giving some crazy mixed signals right now.”

“I don’t want to just keep hooking up with you. I know this all started just as fun and it is fun, but it’s driving me crazy,” Eddie lets out a frantic little laugh, feels like he’s going to start hyperventilating, but he’s started now and can’t stop, “I’m so into you it’s insane, Steve. Like, I like you. So fucking much. So much it makes me want to rip my hair out or something. I can’t keep doing this knowing it doesn’t mean the same thing to you and I can’t keep pretending that the thought of you with someone else doesn’t make me want to die. Okay? I can’t. It—it hurts and it fucking sucks and I can't do it anymore.”

His voice is shaking by the end of it, and he knows by the burning feeling in his eyes and nose that he’s about to start crying. Because this is it—this is what he’s been dreading, all this time: the moment that the other shoe drops, the moment that Steve rejects him. He’s a nice guy, he’ll do it kindly, let Eddie down gently, but that’ll hurt more. Eddie needs Steve to like, punch him in the face and call him a fag, or something. He can’t handle a sweet, gentle, let’s stay friends forever, it’ll all be okay rejection.

Instead of the bright snap of pain he’s hoping for, he feels Steve’s hands slide up the sides of his neck, almost like he does when Eddie’s down on his knees for him. It’s much softer, now, Steve’s thumbs stroking just under his eyes to wipe away the tears that he can’t stop from falling.

It’s too much. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, shaking his head in frantic, jerky movements as his tears just keep coming. He wants to yell at Steve, to tell him to leave and let him lick his wounds in fucking peace, but he can’t make the words come out. All he can do is suck in another sticky, wet breath.

It tears out of his chest as a sob and Steve swears under his breath.

“Hey,” he breathes. He moves Eddie’s hair out of his face gently, tucking it behind his ears. Any traces of anger are gone from his voice now, and it’s soft, quiet, like he's talking to a frightened animal. “Eddie, hey. Shit, I’m sorry. Can you look at me?” 

Eddie doesn’t want to, but he’s never been good at saying no to Steve. He forces his eyes open, blinking away the tears that blur Steve’s pretty face. 

“If you’re gonna reject me just do it,” he says miserably. His voice feels thick as it comes up his throat. “I can take it, man.” 

Actually, he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse to the ground sobbing and maybe even dry heave or throw up the second he’s alone, but Steve doesn’t have to know that. 

“I’m not—”  Steve huffs out a breath, something like a laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Eddie, I’m not rejecting you. I’m—I’m just kind of in shock.” 

Eddie stares at Steve with watery eyes. “In shock?” he bites out. “Yeah, dude, that kinda happens when your friend confesses he has big disgusting gay feelings for you.” 

“No! Not like—not in a bad way,” Steve clarifies. He has the most adorable pink flush on his cheeks, a frustrated little crease between his brows as he tries to find the words for what he’s so clearly hurting to say. “I’ve been into you for months. I honestly thought you were avoiding me these past few weeks ‘cause you could tell. I’m not, like,” he heaves a sigh, runs a nervous hand through his hair, “good at being subtle, man. I thought you were rejecting me.”

Eddie has no clue what kind of face he’s making right now, but he feels a little bit like he’s floating suddenly. Like he’s just missed the last step at the bottom of a staircase, a heavy, stony pang in his chest, his breath kind of stuck somewhere around his diaphragm. It’s almost like how it felt to flip upside down, weightless, as he climbed through the gate last spring, but only slightly less terrifying.

“I haven’t been with anyone else since the first time we hooked up,” Steve admits, and Eddie's mouth falls open, because that was nearly a year ago. “I know we were supposed to be casual, but it… was never casual for me.” His face is a little redder now, but he doesn't break eye contact. It makes Eddie want to squirm. “I shouldn’t have lied and said I didn’t want more. I wanted you. When we—”  He swallows and Eddie can't help but glance down to watch the way his throat bobs, wants to sink his teeth into it. "When we’re together, you know, it’s… it’s all I ever think about. Fuck, I think about you all the time. I feel like I'm going insane.” He groans, letting his forehead fall forward onto Eddie’s shoulder. “I feel like I’m not doing a great job here.”

Steve thinks about him. Steve fucking wants him. Eddie is literally going to pass out or something.

“No,” he breathes, because this can’t be real, he has to be hallucinating or something, “no, you’re—this is really good. Keep going.”  

Steve sighs like he’s frustrated with himself, his breath warm against Eddie’s shirt. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you too, Eddie. A lot. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t, I’m just—kind of not great at this shit.”

Eddie really, really wants to pinch himself, but he can’t fucking move as Steve’s words sink into his bones. 

“You like me,” he croaks out. His hands curl into fists in the front of Steve’s shirt. He probably looks a fucking mess right now with tears and maybe snot all over his face but he can’t think about that, not when Steve is so close. “You actually like me? Like, not—not just fucking me?”  

“I mean, I do like doing that,” Steve says, lifting his head with a ridiculous grin and eyebrow waggle that makes Eddie feel hot all over. He groans and shoves Steve’s face away half-heartedly, and Steve laughs, turns his head to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm.

Eddie just about melts into a puddle on the floor. God, the Steve Harrington charm. Steve’s smile turns a little soft.

��But yeah,” he says, leaning into Eddie’s hand. “I’m kinda crazy about you, man.”

Eddie needs to make sure he's not insane. "Like, you wanna cuddle me and shit? Fuckin’… bake me a cake?”

Oh god, what do people in relationships even do? Is that even what Steve’s gunning for here?

Steve's clearly trying not to laugh. "I mean, I can make you a cake if you want, but I'm not that great at baking. I always put too much flour and it turns out so bad, and this one time I accidentally put salt instead of sugar and Robin still doesn't shut up about it. I can make a pretty solid lasagna, though, if you want—”

"Oh my god," Eddie says, because he's definitely insane, and also because the idea of Steve in the kitchen making him a lasagna like some kind of little housewife is going to make him act fucking stupid, "shut up."

He really does pinch himself, then, and all it does is hurt. Steve’s lips quirk up again, and he steps a little closer, until it would be so easy for Eddie to tilt his head a bit and move in for a kiss. He goes a little cross-eyed trying to keep looking at Steve, trying to make sure this is still real, that this isn’t some Vecna shit and Steve’s about to turn into some kind of fucked up monster and start, like, eating him or something. 

“Did you just pinch yourself?” Steve asks, grinning so wide Eddie can almost taste it.

“No,” Eddie lies.

“That’s so cute."

Eddie makes a weird, strangled sound, and it’s the most humiliating little noise, one he didn’t even know he was capable of making. He doesn’t have a chance to be embarrassed about it, though, because Steve moves so their lips are just barely apart. 

“Can I kiss you now? I really want to.” Their noses touch. “I know it’s not the first time, but… I wanna kiss you.”

“Like in a gay way?” Eddie blurts, like an idiot.

Steve’s eyes crinkle up a bit when he laughs. “Yeah, dude. In a gay way. I mean, I kinda feel like me licking my jizz out of your mouth that one time was already pretty gay, but yeah. I wanna kiss you for real. If that’s okay.”

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

[buckyalpine]

Freaky bitch thots, here is a rouge one that popped into my head. Imagine virgin Bucky lying to about being experienced to his moms best friend. He has no business flirting with her but he can't help it, not when she's the thing his dreams are made of. She's truly not that much older than him but there's enough of an understanding where they both know a boundary would be crossed if anything happened.

Still.

He can't help but get all cocky about all the things he's do to her, confident in himself while she chews her lip, looking at the bright eyed puppy in front of her, practically begging to let him take her apart.

After all, he already knows what he's doing.

So imagine how precious he looks when he whimpers seeing her fully naked for the first time. He tried to collect himself but you're so pretty. Once he has your nipples in his mouth, he doesn't want to stop sucking them, a part of his wishing he could nurse off you all night. It takes a minute to put the condom on. Imagine how sweet he is when he pants, his body trembling as he starts to push his cock in, whining before he even get s a chance to move. He holds still, clinging onto her, scared he's going to shoot into the condom, already prematurely ejactualting, silky cream dribbling from the pink tip of his cock.

"What is it baby boy"

"M'cumming" He whimpers, rutting into your tight wet heat, too embarrassed to pull away from your neck, hugging you tighter. His needy little sounds only get higher in pitch when your warm, plush thighs wrap around his waist, kissing his temple to soothe him.

"Are you a virgin baby?" You cooed, playing with his hair while he nodded, worried you'd be upset with him, caught in his lie.

"M'Sorry" he whispered while you hushed him, smirking at the way he was still rock hard, filling your pussy up perfectly.

"You still want this, Jamie?" Bucky never said yes to anything quicker in his life, his puppy eyes wide.

"You want me to teach you, baby?"

"Please"

"Please teach me how to fuck, mommy"

"Go ahead sweetheart, it's okay" You nod while his feet slip against your sheets when he starts to thrust. "Relax baby, rock your hips, That's it, good boy" you stroke is soft cheek, pulling him down to kiss his pouty bottom lip, your hand rubbing down his back, grabbing a fist full of his ass to encourage him to push further.

"Feels good, I-I think m'gonna cum" His pace grew sloppy, hot puffs of air hitting your neck while he moaned, his cock growing harder than before.

"Yeah?" You started to kiss down his neck while grazing his scalp with your nails making him purr with pleasure, your greedy cunt fluttering around his pure, throbbing pink cock, claiming him.

"Yeah" He nearly wailed, "Oh my god it feels good, m'cumming again" He pushed you into the mattress, pressing his hips deep into you as far as it would go, his cock bursting with streams of cum. He's nothing but a subby, teary baby once his orgasm is done, hugging and clinging onto you while you let him curl onto your chest, spent cock pressed between your bodies.

He lets out a sleepy yawn, whining when you pull away and crawl down his body, a needy moan slipping past his lips when you spread his legs and take his sensitive, soft length into your mouth. You lick up his silky white cream making him blush and squirm, a shy and deep blush covering his face, his body jolting from sensitivity.

"Sleep sweet boy, I'll teach you what my mouth feels like next"

I'm deeply sorry for this.

[stvolanis]

toxic!farleigh start PLEASE I BEG OF YOU😫😫

I hear you, I hear you! love me some toxic men…angst with smut!!! kinda fluff at the end if you squint.

FWB Farleigh Start! who you’ve been having sex with since he began attending Oxford, but he was gracious enough to extend an invitation to stay with him in saltburn; but no strings attached, obviously.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who fucks you into oblivion nearly every night, not bothering to pull out since he put you on the pill. He’ll mutter the sweetest things to you while he pounds into your sore, overused pussy. “Love you s’much, baby. Love this fuckin’ pussy.” He’d say in your ear, his voice husky before kissing your shoulder. Almost as if you were lovers.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who when he’s done rutting his cum in all of your holes, cleans you up and leaves a kiss on your head; sparing you one last glance before he leaves you alone for the night to go to his room. Your heart broke each and every time he walked out of the room.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who won’t make whatever it is you have official, but won’t let you see anyone else besides him and throws bitch fits when he sees you talking to Felix, and god forbid, Oliver. It sparks arguments and harsh words, yet it just ends up with make-up sex.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who loves you more than he loves himself, yet he can’t bring himself to be in a relationship with you in fear of him hurting you. But, he doesn’t wanna see you with anyone else, so while you’re asleep he unlocks your phone and goes through your contacts, deleting the ones he feels like he has to worry about.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who smirks to himself as he watches your brows furrow in confusion when messages you swore were there, are suddenly gone.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who you see dancing with a redhead dressed in a slutty nurse costume at one of the parties at Saltburn. He could see the hurt dance across your face, the tears well up in your eyes. How badly he wanted to just go up to you, look you in your pretty little eyes and tell you that he’s only ever wanted you.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who can’t accept his feelings for you, so fearful of the unknown. He’s never felt the way he feels about you for anyone else, and it scares him. So, he lets the red headed tramp lead him up the stairs to a spare bedroom.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who freezes when the red head perches herself on his lap. Knowing she isn’t you, he pushes her off and swings the door open, storming down the stairs, looking desperately around for you.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who finally finds you, yet you’re in the arms of the person he despises the most with tears running down your cheeks. Something Oliver says makes you laugh through your tears, and Farleigh swears he felt a pang in his chest.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who, on impulse, drags you away from Oliver; obviously not before throwing profanities at him.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who throws you onto your bed, both of your wrists held above your head by just one of his large hands, his fingers adorned with pretty rings. His other hand making quick work of shimmying off your shorts and white panties.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who fucks you with 3 of his fingers while whispering the dirtiest things to you. “Such a slut, hm? Fuck anyone who’ll give you attention?” He taunted. “No one can make you feel this good with just their fingers, honey.” He said as he licked his lips, watching the way your pussy soaked his fingers, the sound echoing in the air.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who makes you cum at least 4 times with just his fingers till he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. “You’re mine. Get that through your pretty fuckin’ head.” He said through gritted teeth. You nodded your head, a babbling, whimpering mess under him.

FWB Farleigh Start! Who sleeps next to you that night for the first time and whispers sweet nothings to you as his hands trace little stars on your back. Maybe things would change. Just maybe.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @salepso

[hazbinwhoree]

Adam x f!reader

after a one night stand with Adam, around a month or two later she reveals she’s pregnant with his kid..

his reaction and maybe his life when the baby arrives him failing at changing a diaper

him falling asleep on the couch watching tv with his baby on his chest with a tiny spot of drool on his shirt 🥹

bonus

Lute holding the child and then the baby pukes on her

Father Adam

Adam and (Name) had been friends for a long time. Just friends. Until one drunken night, they can’t pretend anymore, and they hookup. The one night stand shakes their friendship, and they don’t talk nearly as much over the next two months.

That’s why Adam is so surprised when he opens his door to find (Name) in tears.

“(Name), what’s wrong?” “Can I come in? You should maybe sit down for this.”

Adam has absolutely no idea what (Name) is about to throw at him, letting her in and sitting next to her on his couch. (Name) pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to Adam. Adam felt the world stop. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

He’s silent for a long minute before shakily asking, “You’re sure it’s mine?”

(Name) hits his arm. “Yes, I’m sure, you’re the only guy I’ve fucked in like a year.”

Adam is silent again, before snapping out of his daze and taking (Name)’s hands into his. “I… I love you.” The tension that had been between them since the one night stand was finally put into words.

Tears poured down her face as she threw her arms around Adam’s neck. Adam pulled her into his lap and (Name) buries her face in his neck. “I love you too.”

The nine months flew by, Adam and (Name) learning to live as a couple before they had to learn how to live as parents.

Luckily, years of friendship made it easy, and their relationship had very few bumps.

Adam was fast asleep when he was abruptly awoken by (Name) shaking him, telling him when he woke in a small, scared voice, “My water broke and I’m having contractions.”

19 hours later, their son was born. Adam, the egotistical bitch he is, insisted on naming their son Adam as well. (Name) allowed it, and they celebrated the arrival of Adam Jr.

They took him home a day later, and Adam basically went through the five stages of grief. He loves his kid and he’s proud to be a father of a child he actually wanted, but he realizes he has no idea how to be a dad, and is now worried he’s going to fuck up his son.

(Name) assures him he won’t fuck up their child and Adam finds himself believing her.

The first night, Adam sleeps straight through the baby crying. The second night, the same thing happened. The third night, (Name) shook him awake and grumbled “Your turn.”

Adam drowsily made his way to the nursery, and crying baby at three in the morning was now his least favorite thing. He sighed, picking his son up out of his crib and carrying him with him to the kitchen.

He bounced and shushed baby Adam while he prepared a bottle of milk. Thank god it was simple enough, all he had to do was heat it up. When he was done and bringing the bottle to his son’s lips, he immediately stopped crying and Adam sighed in relief.

Adam never woke up from the baby crying, he slept like a rock, but (Name) would wake him up and they took turns with the night feedings.

Once Adam half woke up to see (Name) breastfeeding their son in bed next to him. “Me next,” he murmured, before promptly passing back out.

The one thing Adam couldn’t seem to get a handle on was changing diapers. His son had peed on him twice. And something about baby poop smelled especially bad, and he gagged everytime he had to change a poop diaper.

He was such a baby about it that (Name) did most of the diaper changes.

Three months in, and (Name) had two favorite memories.

The first one was when she’d come home from the store to find Adam asleep on the couch, baby Adam asleep on his chest. Despite being knocked out, Adam still had a secure grip on the baby. They were both drooling. Like father like son.

The second was when Lute was holding baby Adam and finally getting comfortable holding a baby when he suddenly threw up on her shirt.

Adam thought it was hilarious. Lute did not.

Adam isn’t the world’s greatest dad by any means, but he’s trying his best.

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader

Warnings: mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 1449

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version ✨ Alec version

Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage. 

Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.

You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.

“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”

Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.

“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.

“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”

Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”

After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”

You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”

He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”

He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”

You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.

Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”

You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.

“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”

Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”

“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.

You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.

Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”

Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.

“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.

You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Okay, then where are you taking me?”

His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”

“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”

“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”

“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”

Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.

“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[mythicalmyles]

step brother Toby 🧍👀 (also i hope tomorrow gets better💗 )

After this ask im gonna have too much in my mind lmfaoo

Stepcest/dubcon/manipulation/tobys gross n toxic/bottom male reader

You huffed out, turning to look at the man that was now your brother. You hated the fact your dad had remarried but there was little you could do, he had made his mind up and moved her and her hell spawn into your home.

Toby stared a lot. Especially when you wire nothing but a towel after a hot shower, you tried to push back any thoughts that tried to weasel into your mind. You couldn’t deny his lifeless brown eyes would easily pin you in place, he always had a smirk on his face, like he knew something else no one else knew.

You were stuck alone with him, he sat on his bed, hair messy and unkempt. He’d likely ran his hands through his locks, deciding that was enough. He wore grey sweat pants decorated with stains that showed off his boxers, he was well defined which had initially surprised you. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, his dark bags hanging down his eyes as he stared at the screen infront of him. He had his shirt off, leaving his mouth watering chest on display. He was toxic as hell, always shouting obscenities down the mic. Even if he had done something stupid he’d still blow his top on those around him.

You were usually quick to make yourself scarce during the times he was gaming, instead you lay on your stomach and watched him lazily as anger seared over his features. “Yo-you fuh-fucking bitch!” He suddenly screamed out, throwing the control off the wall and nearly causing you to leap out of bed. It was too late once you’d realised your mistake.

Something evil took over Toby’s face when his eyes landed on you, his lips pulled into a snarl and a horrifying look in his eyes. You felt like a little fawn that had been dropped into the line of sight of a starved wolf. He moved to strike, jumping up just before your brain finally clicked. He was pissed and you must’ve looked like a target.

Fear flooded through you as you scrambled up, desperately praying for escape. Toby literally slammed the thoughts out of your head, sending you fly into the wall. You let out a cry as your body hit the wall, head slamming against the plaster and leaving your head spinning.

He had always scared you, he disappeared for days on end and always came back just that little bit extra terrifying. It was almost like every time he came back he left a little more humanity behind. You had tried so hard to stay out of his way despite sharing a room, you knew he was a ticking time bomb and yet you had stayed any way. You’d long given up on having your room look nice, he always tore it up anyway.

He grabbed your wrists, slamming them against the wall so hard you yelped. “T-Toby, ple-please.” The look on his face let you know just how big of a mistake you had made, he held your arms above your head with one hand while the other wrapped around your throat. His grip was tight and unforgiving, you were positive his nails would leave scars along your neck. You choked out a whimper, tears dripping from your eyes as he choked you to the point of blackout. He stopped just before you fell over the edge and into darkness, pulling away watching as you fell to your knees grasping your neck and choking.

Toby didn’t have any interest in you at first, intent on keeping the worst parts of himself until he was ready to leave. But when he caught sight of that dumb little look on your face it went straight to his cock, he knew you feared him and he relished in it. He was enraged from his game, the idiots in his team sucked. When he caught sight of you after his rage he felt something stir in him, the fear on your face, the way you bit down onto your lip eyeing him like you were about to bolt. He couldn’t have that.

That was how you’d ended up biting onto your sheets, Toby’s cock smashing deep inside of you. You felt your tears rush down your cheeks and soak into your sheets. “You like tha-a-that? Getting fuh-fucked by your big bro-brother?” Toby was insane, his words were lewd and disgusting. Yet your cock leaked between your legs, body shaking as he nailed into you. He left deep scratches in your hips, slamming you back onto his cock.

You couldn’t breathe, he loved the way you struggled underneath him. “S-stop To-toby-y.” You choked out one last time, he knew you didn’t mean it. He knew by the way your back arched, letting his cock slide deeper into you. Your choked moans filled the room along with the sound of him slamming into you, his cock abusing your prostate.

He ripped himself out and flipped you over, baring down at you with a shark toothed grin. He looked terrifying, drool dripping from his mouth as he stared down at you. The sight of his cock slamming into your tight hole was almost enough to spur him over the edge. “Ye-yeah that-thats it baby, ta-ah-take my cock.” He slammed your lips together, tongue forcing its way into your mouth and wasting no time in exploring. You whined into the kiss, feeling both of your saliva dripping down your face and neck.

“Do-dont wor-ry ill take go-good care of you, li-lit-little bro.” Toby’s words left you whining, hands grabbing desperately against his shoulders. You barely had a moment before an orgasm ripped through you, tearing you apart at the seams and leaving you clenching around Toby’s cock.

You clenched hard around him, sobbing and whining as you felt his cum flood your stomach. He flopped down onto you, his weight keeping you pinned down as he lazily ground into you. He ignored your overstimulated cries, content to keep his cock buried in your tight ass. “Suh-such a good b-boy.” Toby muttered, petting your hair as you came down from your high.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ every week is fashion week ]❜

ft. wade wilson x gn! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ playing dress to impress with deadpool┊0.6k words

contains: wade being wade and probably ooc because he’s a bitch to write for

➤ author's note: gaming with him could fix me honestly

╰₊✧ when you hear him yelling and swearing insults like a sailor, you assume that he was playing some sort of rage game or a first-person shooter that he sucked at, but when you enter his room to see what all the commotion is about, you’ll see him hunched over on his ipad playing roblox like a child. the moment he sees you, he’s going to force you to download the app if you didn’t have it already and have you duo with him to have cute matching couple outfits.

╰₊✧ he knows nearly every code that’s active, has vip unlocked, and theorizes about the story behind it all like the lore whore he is. it sounds crazy to you how such a dress-up game could contain little details about a doppelganger replacing the nail tech, a mysterious organization, and something called the “flesh room, but you suppose that every generation needs to have an innocent-looking media hiding dark secrets.

╰₊✧ speaking of generations, you’re a hundred percent sure he’s too old to be playing this game and the way he bullies other players who are likely children makes you think that he was a regina george equivalent back in the day. he claims you only think that because he’s a harsh critic who rarely gives out anything higher than three stars, but it’s clear that he forgets that it’s a game for kids and gets carried away often.

“what the hell is that?! that’s not 2000s, that’s 2010s, dumbass!”

“babe, i’m pretty sure that they weren’t even born yet in the 2000s.”

“whatever, it’s still the ugliest fucking skirt i’ve ever seen.”

╰₊✧ he’s super competitive and petty with a capital “p,” strutting his model around to scope out the competition and singing a little improvised song under his breath along with the background music (some crazy stuff comes out of his mouth, things that make you whip your head around to stare at him while he acts like he didn’t just say the wildest shit for the sake of a rhyme). every round is like a different episode of reality television, and wade is constantly beefing with other contestants like it’s high school again.

“ooh, she ate.”

“...really?”

“yeah, she ‘ate’... OFF MY PLATE! THIS BITCH IS COPYING ME!”

╰₊✧ because his fashion sense is impeccable and his creativity is off the charts, he gets copied a lot and he will walk up to them to confront them about it. if they try to walk away or insist they aren’t, he’ll menacingly follow them around with a bloodlust that somehow permeates the screen until they finally change. you need to remind him to stop scaring the children, yet he never listens because it’s not like they can hear him roasting them on an open fire anyway.

╰₊✧ he always lands in the top five and carries you when doing duos because you refuse to spend a cent on roblox, but he can get pretty pissy when an outfit (or player) he didn’t like places higher than him. every time he quits and puts down his tablet to do something else, you’ll find him playing again with his feet in the air swinging like a teen girl writing in their diary about their crush an hour later. you’ll also hear him trying to convince logan to play with him too, although he’ll never be successful in this lifetime.

╰₊✧ gives an extra star to anyone coming out on the runway who forgot or didn’t have enough time to pick out a hairstyle in “bald solidarity”

╰₊✧ his favorite pose is pose 28, referencing the meme of “pussy facing the word” as his reasoning because of course it is.

[a-pastel-edgelord]

The Traveler

major spoilers for kny/demon slayer ending reader beware

Sanemi Shinazugawa is as close to content as he can be but he's learning the hard way that there is more to life than what's in front of him. The possibilities, on this summer morning, are endless. The sun is only just rising and the haze of noise from insects is already in full swing. He's traveling, he can't feel comfortable settling in one spot, not after years of going from one town to the next. Sanemi will stop when he feels at home, and he's perfectly fine with never finding it. For now, he has no destination.

A scream tears the peaceful lull apart, and Sanemi is moving before he can blink. His hand travels to where his sword should be at his hip (he long since returned it to the Ubuyashiki family). His heart is in his mouth before his brain finally catches up. There are no demons. The thought brings security—another scream—but it does not comfort him.

He goes careening around a bend in the dirt road, spotting a house on a hill through the trees. A normal person probably wouldn't have heard the screams based on the distance from whence he arrived but that's not important. Sanemi hasn't been able to give up total concentration breathing constant yet and he's glad of it at this moment.

The retired Wind Hashira pauses in the clearing. Should he go around back? A person crashes through the sliding paper doors. It's a man, probably thrice his age, with a fresh black eye blooming on his face.

"You bitch! I'll throw you out on your backside!"

"Try it then, you old bastard!" Comes the shrieking reply, "If you put your hands on him again, I'll gouge your eyes out!"

The first time Sanemi claps eyes on you, you look like a wreck. Your lips are bleeding and there are bruises splattered all over your visible skin. Your summer yukata is torn in a couple places and a size too small like you outgrew it a year ago. Chest heaving in exertion, you bare your teeth and there's a throbbing vein in your neck.

Sanemi is so entranced that he almost misses movement behind you. It's a child—children who all resemble one another and are visibly young. They inch forward, still in the shade of the house, as if stepping into direct sunlight is dangerous.

You take two steps forward, the light of the sunrise throwing your face into sharp relief. Your back is straight, your chin is high, and your eyes are cold as they look down your nose.

It might seem nearly inconceivable that you must have been the one who tossed this man through the shōji doors. But Sanemi knows better. You step down off the veranda into the grass. You move with intent, your shadow falls across the face of your prey. "Get out of my house."

"You don't order me around!" The man spits and reaches out to grab the collar of your clothes.

A scarred hand snatched up his wrist, and Sanemi isn't surprised to find it's his hand (missing fingers and all). "Get lost, old man." The words themselves aren't threatening, and neither is his tone. However, his grip tightens enough to cut off blood flow. He's sure the older man can feel the creak of bones under pressure.

"Ah! G-get offa me!" The man wrenches his arm free, back peddling before stumbling away from the house. "I'll be back—don't go thinking you're safe, you wretches!"

Sanemi watches the man run down the hill and out of sight, unmoving. When he decides the old bastard is gone, he turns to you, and you're already looking at him.

Evaluating and cautious you approach. The previous moment's emotions are still coursing through your body. Sanemi sees the way your hands shake, but your face betrays nothing. "Who are you?"

Your words are rude, but Sanemi can't bring himself to stand on propriety. "M' just a traveler. I heard a commotion, so I happened by."

You blink and remember proper manners. "Would—would you like a hot meal? We don't have much in the way of interesting fare but..."

"Don't think you owe me. That man was already runnin' scared by the time I did anything."

"I—" You glance back at the house, and Sanemi follows your gaze. Four children of a variety of ages stand at the end of the veranda, the youngest looking a little worse for wear. Their eyes are bright and curious. One of them nods. "We, would like to offer our thanks. Please eat with us."

Sanemi Shinazugawa is sure there's a future where he leaves. Where he never shares food with you and your siblings. There's a version of him who doesn't get to see you smile when he fixes the door in exchange for a place to sleep the next night.

But this isn't that future. "Pardon the intrusion." He nods and follows you back to the house.

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━ Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Chapther two: proposal

Year 126 A.C

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Benjicot Blackwood remembered little of his mother. He remembered slightly wavy, honey-coloured hair, and large, expressive eyes that he himself had inherited. He was six years old when she died. He remembered that she had a good heart, everyone at Raventree Hall adored her. Soldiers, servants, cooks, grooms, stable hands, all charmed by Lady Blackwood.

Ten years had passed since a terrible fever had taken her. Ben's father, Samwell Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall, wept by the bedside. It was the first and last time he had seen him cry. He was a good guy, respected by his men and vassals. Not so much by the neighbours, as one might say. The Brackens didn't like him much.

But then, the Brackens don't even respect themselves.

And neither did Ben.

The Well Tavern was a place frequented by men between the Red Fork and the Blue Fork. Both Bracken's and Blackwood's. The owner of this tavern, an old man with one eye and three golden teeth, had forbidden them to fight in his establishment.

There they were that spring night, Ben Blackwood and two of his loyal friends, Corvin and Jon. Both boys from Blackwood's house, both of whom he had known since he was born. His father considered him young to frequent such places, for it was not good for a young lord's reputation. But that did not detract from the fact that he did it anyway.

It was fun, the festive atmosphere and the drunken tales. Ben had had two pints, not enough to get him drunk, but enough to be amused by the nonsense a much drunker Corvin was spewing from his mouth.

"...and then the bloke said "but that's not where to put it" "cackled the young man.

The whole table erupted in laughter and banging. Ben slapped Jon on the back as he nearly choked on his beer. That brought more laughter to the Blackwood men's table. But the revelry ended as soon as the tavern doors burst open.

The place fell silent, the musicians abruptly gave way, and the men at the table turned their gazes to the doors.

Aeron Bracken and six men in golden colours and a red stallion. They seized a table and called the barkeeper, under the watchful eyes of the Blackwoods. The tension could be cut with a dagger, not even the best beer in the Arbor could lighten the mood.

Ben sipped his beer, one hand near his belt where he held a sword and another knife strapped to his back camouflaged in his clothes.

Then one of the Brackens bumped into a drunken Jon. The young stable boy was considerably small compared to the Bracken man, who stood there staring at him.

The two collided forehead to forehead, foot to foot. Ben rose from his seat, in an attempt to separate his friend from the Bracken bouncer.

"That's it! My friend and I go that way and you go this way".

"Are you scared, Blackwood?" teased Aeron.

"I don't feel like smashing your face in a tavern, Bracken," he replied, "We're leaving".

Aeron also stood up and unsheathed his sword, aiming it at Benjicot's back. Blackwood stood still. He had been told to stay away from fighting, to save his strength and momentum for his lessons and important battles to come, and not to waste them in taverns with childish brawls.

He took Jon by the shoulders, to take him to the table with his other friends and leave the dreaded tavern. The hour was late, tomorrow would be a new day and the alcohol was beginning to dampen morale.

"And little Benji comes running back to his mummy's skirts" mocked one of the Bracken boys "Oh wait!, that's right, his bitch of a mother has been in hell for years now, like all the Blackwood heathens".

His father was going to be very angry.

It took a second for the tavern to turn into a pitched battle. Grab what you can and hit the enemy with it. A classic Blackwood versus Bracken as usual since the age of the Heroes.

The offence against the late Lady Blackwood and the ancient gods could not be retaliated against by the lords of Raventree Hall. Jim, the landlord of the tavern, tried to calm the shouting match, trying to move the quarrel out of the establishment at least.

Corvin saw the disadvantage. There were seven of them against the three men from Blackwood House. The boy lifted Jon off the floor, kicking a drunk who had thrown himself on top of him.

"You go get the horses, I'll grab..."

A circle formed where the Brackens were previously seated. Shouts of fighting echoed off the stone walls. Jon looked at Corvin with concern. The latter nudged the former, indicating his previous order, as he reached for the young lord.

Ben was in the middle of the bloody circle. Straddling a Bracken, the one who had dared to speak ill of his mother, brutally beating his face, to the point that Corvin couldn't tell which of them it was.

After that beating, not even the bastard's mother could recognise him.

The boy tried to get Ben's attention, but his young lord seemed possessed by rage. Bracken blood splattered on his face, his gaze unfocused, his tongue between his teeth in an almost satisfied grimace.

"Ben! Oi! Come on, mate!"

Corvin grabbed his master by the shoulders, trying to lift him off the Bracken before he sent him to his false gods. Dodging a blow, Ben seemed to snap out of his reverie.

"Come on, let's get out of here, mate," Corvin pointed, guiding the boy towards the exit.

Outside, Jon was waiting with the horses. Once saddled, the three rode into the night along the road to Raventree Hall. They reached the entrance to the Blackwood ancestral home as the sun rose over the horizon.

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The sun was rising in the east and Lucrezcia had not slept a wink all night.

A ringing in her ears, the spring heat made her sweat, and her quarters in Oldtown were ugly to say the least.

Her only solace was the company of Lady Blackwood. Alyssane had accompanied them from Honeyholt to Oldtown on their quest to find a new master for their house. Along the way, she had advised her and told her all about her home.

The stories about the Riverlands had become a moment of peace amidst the relentless search for husbands. Between dates and teas, Aly and Lucrezcia would go out riding to clear their heads.

Her father had finally managed to get his wonderful horse from the island by boat. A dornish stallion with a black coat and white mane, as big as a carriage and as strong as a bull.

Lucrezcia had named him Maegor.

"... I thought all Riverlands practised the faith of the Seven," questioned Lucrezcia.

"The Blackwoods are an ancient house descended of the First Men. Family traditions state they ruled most of the wolfswood in the north before being driven south by the Kings of Winter from House Stark" replied Alyssane "Then Blackwood river kings claimed the mouth of the Blackwater Rush".

Everything she learned fascinated her.

She felt like a little girl, eager for knowledge, full of curiosity. The many septas she had had throughout her life had not focused on teaching her history. The basics, the Age of Heroes, Aegon's conquest, Maegor's wars of faith, Jahaerys's reign.

They never delved into other houses, let alone other kingdoms, or maybe they did, but Lucrezcia was more interested in ignoring them.

"My father says that the First Men were barbarians and do not accept true religion while worshipping false gods".

"That's rich coming from an Andal" said Aly.

"My mother was an Ironborn, actually" Lucrezcia said.

Alyssane listened carefully. It is true that the absence of a mother or lady of the house was noticeable. It was the father who chose the suitor, but it was the mother who instructed the daughters in the way of marriage. And the lack of maternal presence was very clear in Lucrezcia's attitude. Her manner and demeanour, Alyssane wondered if she had mastered a weapon of some kind, as she had with the bow.

"You don't talk about her much," Aly mentioned.

Lucrezcia seemed to tense up, as if she had spoken too much. Just because she thought a lot about her mother did not mean she wanted to talk about her. No one at home did. Her father seemed to have forgotten all trace of her. Livia was already married when she left, Patricia had barely stopped feeding at her mother's breast.

Olga could barely stand Lucrezcia, so she wasn't much of a support.

"She... she's gone" she murmured "Not that she was a very loving person, anyway...".

Alyssane didn't want to stretch the conversation any further, seeing the change in the young woman's attitude.

"She taught me how to ride though," Lucrezcia blurted out to the riverwoman's surprise. "She gave me the first puppy, it was a breed from the crown lands. We trained him together... his name is Vinn, after the vineyards".

"What a ridiculous name," laughed Black Aly.

Lucrezcia nudged her horse.

"I was eight! I thought it was original!"

They both laughed and Alyssane decided it was a good time to put her plan into action.

"You know, my nephew enjoys hunting too, though no more than his sword, damn him."

"You have a nephew?"

Bingo.

"Benjicot Blackwood, heir to Raventree Hall".

"Benjicot? Now that is a ridiculous name".

Now it was Aly who nudge her horse. A little bit stronger.

"I jest! I jest..." laughed Lucrezcia. A spike of curiosity tingled down her spine. "And what is he like?".

"He's just turned six and ten, he's as tall as the weirwood tree, the damn kid, and very strong. He's been in a few little battles, against bloody Brackens, at least," mentioned Aly "But between you and me, he's a nice kid, pretty shy to tell you the truth."

Blackwood could feel the curiosity shooting out of Lucrezcia's eyes.

"I could introduce you to him."

Lucrezcia shook her head, drawing out the little birds.

"And why would you do that?"

They had arrived at the Hightower stables in Oldtown. Alyssane unsaddled her horse and handed it to a groom, while Lucrezcia still watched her from the height Maegor provided.

"Take it as a favour, he's young and you may have more in common with him than with Daryl Florent".

Alyssane winked goodbye and left the young woman speechless. She watched her walk away towards the High Tower gates.

Lucrezcia's mind was soon racing.

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Ben's bloody nose was playing tricks on him. They still had no maester and had to make do with the healing wiles of Bessie, the cook and housekeeper.

The hall was tense with silence. Lord Samwell stood at the head of the table, while Ben sat at the other end, with Jon and Corvin on either side of him.

With the pain in his head from the blow, he struggled to distinguish his friends. Bess had given him a cloth with very cold water to bring down the swelling in his nose, the water dripping from which mixed with the blood in his nose. He felt iron in his mouth, and could not help the urge to spit.

Father was lecturing him, as well as his friends, who crestfallenly responded with "yes, my lord" and "sorry, my lord". All this while Ben tried to focus his eyes on his father.

"Tavern brawls, this is where it's come to" the man said "I didn't raise a drunken brawler, I raised a future lord, a warrior!" he slammed his hand on the table, startling Ben "You have responsibilities, and you don't fulfil them by getting into trouble.

"They were Brackens," Ben replied.

Samwell fell silent. His wrinkled eyes narrowed in his son's direction. The feud with the Brackens was centuries old, many barely remember the beginning of it. Each day of the other's life was a threat to the other. Grover Tully, Lord of Riverrun, their overlord, was old and his attempts at peace between the houses were faltering.

Any excuse was a good one for bloodshed.

And as things were going in the capital, war was coming.

And ravens and stallions would not fight for the same side.

Samwell was aware of this. But he knew he had time to prepare himself and his house for a war until the dragons decided to dance. And if he could keep the peace with Stone Hedge until then, so be it. For his son's life was worth more than any battle.

He was not so sure that son was aware of that.

"The winds change fast, my son. Someday you will realise that it pays more to protect your own than to fight with the enemy," said the Lord of Raventree. "We need a strong and secure future".

Corvin and Jon shared a look of intrigue at the direction of the conversation. Benjicot looked straight at his father.

"And you, my son, you shall settle down". Samwell pulled two parchments from his sleeve, one with a crimson seal, his own, and another with a purple seal that Ben did not recognise.

"Lads" the lord pointed to the two boys guarding his son. It was their cue to leave the father and son.

Both boys looked at each other and then saluted their master, to walk out the doors of the great hall.

Once alone, Ben pulled the wet cloth away from his face to listen to his father.

"Your aunt, Alyssane, has agreed with Lord Luther Redwyne on a very interesting proposition," he said. He stretched out the parchment of the unknown seal.

"Lord Luther Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor. One of the richest men in Westeros, offers the hand of his daughter, Lucrezcia Redwyne, with a dowry of six thousand gold dragons, two hundred of his men and a prolific trade agreement with the Isle of the Arbor" read Samwell.

"The hand... of his daughter" Ben repeated.

Ben's mind was faster than a dragon. His daughter's hand in marriage, he read the letter. Marriage. He was getting married. To a complete stranger. From another realm. Another faith. An unknown woman.

"Believe me, my boy" said the lord "This is a new beginning, for you and for..."

" They offer us men, for what purpose?" interrupted Ben.

"Gold and men bring security to a family," Samwell reminded him.

"Security against what? What's coming?".

Samwell put a hand on his son's shoulder, still seated.

"I want to see you happy, son. And I want grandchildren for my house that you won't beget in taverns."

"You think a woman will make me happy?"

"A wife ? Yes".

He patted his son on the back twice, before heading for the door of the great hall.

"You'll thank me one day".

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"I have made a decision".

Lucrezcia had entered without warning the temporary office that Lord Ormund had offered her father during his stay in Oldtown.

Luther was going over the trade accounts from the last full moon. He looked up from the numbers to find his third daughter. Lucrezcia looked dishevelled, in her silk dressing gown and Lys nightdress. Her dirty blonde hair was tangled in what had once been a braid.

"And what decision would that be?"

Lucrezcia held her head high. Late at night, the only thing illuminating the dingy office were the candles. The light from the High Tower kept her awake. Alyssane had not visited her since their talk in the gardens, busy with her initial task of finding a maester for her household.

She had reconsidered all her options. Men of the Reach, of the Westerlands, but what appealed to her most, Alyssane's proposal.

A man from the Riverlands, who had no respect for the faith of the Seven.

Would that anger her father enough?

"I will marry Benjicot Blackwood"

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tag list: @erysione @asteria33 @shifter-101 @drwho-ess @hotdxdragon @username199945 @nixtape-foryou @saturnssrings

[lwolfcat429]

Adopted Dad! Husk + young demon Cat reader

Husk found her in an alleyway, (before pilot) and out of the **kindness** his heart (more so knowing what's like being in hell at first and being scared) he took her in, not officially adopting her but just kinda keep her, she was around ages 15-16 in pilot+First season.

" ---tel? What the fuck is this?....You!! "

When Husk first arrived at the hotel, she was there with him napping as he gambled, also grewing scared and confused when teleported to the hotel. Gripping the table, ears lower and fur raising, Husk's wings Shielding her. Alastor knows of her and stood there smiling at the two

" Ah, Husker, y/n, my good friends! Glad you could make it! " Alastor said as everyone watched, reader standing there confused

vaggie pointing at the teenage cat demon "is that a child? "

" Don't you "Husker" me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot! " husk said to Alastor, Alastor explained the situation with the hotel and husker growled, hissing at Alastor" You thought it'd be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere?! You think I'm some kind of fucking clown?! "

Alastor smirked wider " Maybe " the reader holds in a laugh, husk looks at her with sharp slit pupils, she shakes her head waving and mumbling a sorry. Alastor tells husker he can ran a bar and a have a few drinks. Also just as long as reader isn't touching or drinking said alcohol drinks. Husker hissed again " what do you take me for? Of course I'm not giving her drinks!! I don't let her touch the stuff! she just ain't old enough!!" you stood by rolling your eyes, like any teenager "--- and What? You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?! " Alastor glares at Husker menacingly " ...Well, you can! " Husker said, taking said booze fearful of Alastor.

Everyone was introduced to the reader, who (is kinda like loona) wants to be left alone and stays on her phone. Alastor kinda tries to teach her something about tech rooting her brain, she doesn't listen to anyone besides husk who kinda grumbles at her to at least talk or try to engage in conversation when people speak to her.

Husk's favorite moments with the reader are when she wants to help but he doesn't want her to touch booze yet, since it's so additive and he doesn't want her to ruin her life. So he goes to the second beast and tells her to cook something and serve it, which she's good at. Husk has given her a "job" (more like his little helper) since he found her, which has been her cooking food

Charlie watches Husk and Reader bond. While cooking, (husker watches so she doesn't hurt herself) the reader sprays husk with water to piss him off. Which he replied with pouring some flour on her. Alastor also watched, finding the scenario "cute" but also entertaining. Vaggie made sure husk and reader cleaned the mess, while angel stood up telling husk the reader was kicking his ass at a childish game. Nifty just joined in to clean making sure they were doing it properly

When Husk met Valentino, the reader was also there to support Angel. Telling him Valentino sucked and Angel was bad ass in standing up to him. Husk told Angel to keep fighting Valentino. Angel in a way turned into a second dad when it came to the reader, one time as a joke, the reader made angel food cake and told the Angel it was for him. A hole in the middle of the cake with icing making it look like an ass hole. Husk nearly choked on his beer as Angel was dying laughing at the joke.

Everyone else found it less amusing.

Angel helps the reader cook and makes sure her room is clean, despite his own room being kinda dirty. Angel and Husk are getting teen reader out of her shell but being protective when it comes to boys, and girls depending on their attitude.

The reader suffers with nightmares, during her life, her parents were abusive so in a fight she killed both of them, and they also killed her during said fight. So sometimes everyone can hear the reader crying or screaming. Husk is the only one who walks to comfort her. Telling everyone to give her space, he'll handle it. But Angel walks in. The reader is under her bed, husk trying to get her out and comfort her. Angels lay on the ground telling her stories, singing songs and telling her how bad ass she is for fighting back against her parents, like how she comforted him when he stood up to Valentino, this sorta helps. Reader comes out, allowing Angel and husk to hug her. Husk makes her hot chocolate to help her sleep and Angel cuddles her, rubbing her fur and singing her good night.

Charlie proceeded to hug and praise husk and Angel for taking care of the reader so well.

Scenario;

The reader got an invite to a party by cherry bomb, the cool aunt who also helps get her out of her shell, reader Mets some people. But husk, Angel and surprisingly Alastor, the strict uncle, was not pleased by this. So they went to find her. Only to see a wolf demon, holding down the reader, she's scared and tearing up. You could hear angel yelling "my baby" as he ran to her. Husk, and angel Jump on the wolf. Alastor, gently helping reader up, telling her this was why she shouldn't go to parties. He teleports her to the hotel where vaggie, Charlie and nifty comfort her.

The wolf demon was found dead, dismembered and basically Unrecognizable that same night

[beababoobies]

Hello!

Can I request a Hazbin Hotel with a reader whose head comes off sometimes and they are just casual about it? Like Eda from Owl House or Luci from Disenchantment. It doesn’t have to be a pairing fic with anyone specific, it can be just a reaction fic by the Hotel residents.

If you accept, thank you! If not, then ok.

THIS IS SUCH A SILLY LITTLE IDEA, ABSOLUTELY. “You dropped uh.. something” HAS ME GIGGLING. Thank you for this kekeke. Also I haven’t watched the owl house so sorry if I did this wrong. 

Head Less

You had been at the hotel for a while, going through the motions of a so called rehabilitation. You didn’t mind it too much, and the people there were funny. Everyone was a little different, but everyone was accepting. It was sweet, simple. You didn’t actually believe too strongly that you would one day actually reach angelic status, but screw it. Free place to stay.

The first person to see you drop your head was Alastor. You were looking around the hotel, walking around with no real goal. Sometimes when Charlie hadn’t fully planned the day, you’d just walk around. You were on your first round of the hallways, just for Alastor to appear behind you and scare the shit out of you when you turned around, creepy sharp-toothed smile straight up to your face.

You had jumped back, head falling and rolling down the hall, causing you to groan, cursing to yourself as your body walked over to you head, grabbing your head and holding it to your hip as you cursed out Alastor. He didn’t even seem bothered by this, just staring at you as you told him that if he snuck up on you like that again, well, you just might. 

But right after him was everyone else. You see, Alastor simply didn’t care enough to tell anyone. But because everyone else did care, you knew that dropping your head around one of them would be dropping it to everyone else. So you planned it out.

That’s where you were now - sitting and watching old footage of Charlie’s childhood, which she called a bonding excersize. Angel was making comments about how hot a younger Lucifer was, Vaggie awe-ing over her younger girlfriend, Pentious melting over tiny her, and Husk not giving a single fuck over at the bar. Nifty running around all of you with her pin, looking for bugs under the sofa.

That’s when you made your move, pretending to reach over for your cup of tea, only for your head to roll off and stop at Pentious’ feet. He screamed - so loudly everyone looked over, his high-pitch scream nearly deafening you. Charlie was the next to scream, clinging to Vaggie. Vaggie just stared at your head on the floor with wide eyes. Angel burst you laughing, winking at your head on the floor.

“Nice party trick, toots.” He said in the midst of his fit of giggles, watching Charlie try to calm herself down as your body went and picked up your head like usual, popping it back on your body as you tried to reassure you were fine while still laughing your ass - or should I say head back off, and she tried to laugh it off too, but it was pretty evident you may or may not have accidentally traumatized her. 

Husked and Nifty, having heard the screams but completely oblivious to what happened, looking around completely confused, only for Angel to explain, still out of breath from laughing, Pentious cautiously peeking over the couch. “That bitch’s head just popped off!” Angel exclaimed between laughs, keeled over on the couch as Husk raised his eyebrow.

“Is this some sort of weird fuckin’ joke?” He asked with a tired sigh, wiping down the counter. You shook your head, turning around and using your hands to pop your head off again, causing him to let out a low chuckle, shrugging. “I’ve seen crazier, but that’s not bad.” He shrugged off, throwing the towel over his shoulder.

Charlie’s face of eternal trauma and doom faded to a face of confusion but also wonder, coming up to you and doing a 360 around you and your head, tucked snug in your arm. Her eyes lit up, the smile on her face wider as she let out a small squeak.

“You’re freaking HEADLESS! That’s AWESOME!”