#he lies about how tall he is on the regular

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

-

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

-

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

-

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

-

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

-

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

[lordprettyflackotara]

WhoGoesThere? || eyeless jack

tw: jack and reader are depressed but thats about it ngl

Jack was tired of his life.

Truly, wondering hopelessly day after day was becoming tiring. Patching up the proxies, eating a few organs, rinse and repeat. He had no diversity, no variety to his life. The most exciting thing was when Jeff decided to bombarde him with his rant of the day. Jack despised those rants, but at least it was something different.

It was what led him to wonder aimlessly through the woods, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head held low. It had been many years since he had become this way, the demon everyone knew him to be. As time trudged on he wondered if him coming back to life was a mistake. The leafs crunched beneath his boot, his shoulders low as he stepped over a few random rocks.

In the night he heard an owl hooting, accompanied by the lone coyotes howl in the distance. Jack wouldn’t have normally thought anything of it, if it hadn’t been for the sudden race of a heartbeat. It was too loud to be a small creature, chipmunks and rabbits so easy to rile up. It sounded much larger. Much more human like. His ears twitched as he went in the direction of the sound, his curiosity distracting him from his depressive thoughts. The heartbeat only grew longer as he followed it, the owner seemingly unmoving.

It was then he heard a familiar growl of a coyote, the smell of fear flooding his nostrils. In a small clearing he spotted you, your small figure curled up in a ball against a tree as a coyote prepared itself to launch into an attack. Terror was reeking off of you, something in between your fingers and your eyes widened at the animal in front of you. Truthfully it was none of Jacks business, he never interfered with the circle of life. But your heartbeat sounded so foreign. Unlike anything he had ever heard before.

Involuntarily a low growl rumbled in the back of Jacks throat, his razor sharp teeth gritting together. The coyotes head snapped to him, the animals nocturnal vision providing him a clear picture of the demon. Jack knew he was at the top of the food chain. All the animals he had ever run into during his forest trips knew this as well. None of them dared to even be around Jack, the fear of what he may do driving them away. Once the coyote realized its prey had been stolen, it dashed off into the night without a second thought.

“Who goes there?”

Your question was bold, considering Jack knew his human like figure was concealed in the shadows. You had only heard a growl, yet you spoke to Jack like you knew what he was. “Friend or foe?” You asked. Jack furrowed his eyebrows. He was in the twenty first century, right? "Friend," He replied plainly. His deep voice caught you off guard, causing you to jump to your feet. "Show yourself," You instructed. For such a short thing you sure did have a lot of nerve ordering anyone around, nevertheless Jack. He hadn't interacted with regular humans in a long time. He was curious how this would go.

Against his better judgment, he walked into the clearing. The only source of light was the dim moonlight, which only truly revealed his human like stature and eerie mask. Jack walked in front of you, towering over you as he looked down at you. Soft skin, doe eyes, soft lips.... You looked like a fragile little thing. What were you doing out here? "How did you do it?" You asked, clearly puzzled. Jack stood motionless, afraid you'd see his ash gray hands and run. "Do what?" Jack questioned. You stared up at him curiously, your mind trying to make sense of the black tar dripping down his eye sockets on his mask. It was so lifelike. How was that possible?

"That growl... You sounded like an animal," You said slowly. Jack looked human enough to you. You supposed. Chestnut hair sat on his head, peaking out through the hood that concealed him. He was freakishly tall, unlike anyone you had ever seen before. "Odd talent I have," Jack lied, shrugging his shoulders. You were clearly puzzled, but you couldn't make sense of the situation to begin with. "Why are you out here? You could have seriously gotten hurt," Jack scolded. You rolled your eyes, holding up a joint. Jack only recognized what it was because of Ben's bad habits.

"My college isn't too much of a fan of this. They'd rather me drink myself to death," You answered. Jack tilted his head to the side curiously. He had never bothered inspecting the plant this close up before. "Do you want to smoke it with me? I kind of owe you for saving my life," You offered. If you were being honest with yourself you were lonely, that being the motivation for why you hauled yourself into the forest late at night. "I have never partaken in this before," Jack told you. You gave him a small smile. This guy couldn't be too bad right? He did just save your life. "Everyone starts somewhere. Why don't you join me?" You proposed. You sat down in your original spot, leaning your back against the oak tree.

Hesitantly Jack joined you, sitting cross legged beside you. "Sure," Jack mumbled. He watched you dig in your backpack, searching for a lighter. He noticed the Harvard symbol stitched into the back pocket. "You go to Harvard?" He asked, the question leaving his lips before he meant it to. You seemed unfazed as you continued to rummage through your mess of a backpack. "Yeah. Why?" You asked. Jack sat there dumbfounded, flashes of his previous human life flashing through his memory. He couldn't remember too much of his mortal life, but he remembered going to Harvard University. "I just used to go there, that's all," He said. You unhappily grabbed your backpack by the bottom, dumping its contents onto the ground.

"Pretty shit isn't it? It's not worth what everyone hypes it up to be," You spat harshly. Jack could sense your bitterness, but then he felt his heart throb as he yearned to be in your position. "What are you majoring in?" Jack asked, changing the subject. You grabbed the lighter, quickly igniting the joint in your hand. "Medical field. I want to be a doctor," You answered. Jack froze, his breath came to a screeching halt. He watched as you inhaled the joint, the small orange flame illuminating your features. "What did you major in?" You asked. You held out the joint to him, Jack temporarily unmoving.

He didn't think about you seeing his skin. Maybe you wouldn't notice if he acted normal. "Uh medical field, I wanted to be a surgeon," Jack told you. He reached out slowly, his hands much larger than yours. He took the joint between his fingers, bringing it up to his mask. Unsurely he lifted up the bottom half, placing the joint in between his lips. "Wanted to be? What happened? If its seeing guts don't worry, lots of kids dropped out once we had to study a surgery live," You say, your eyes flickering to his hands. You noted his odd skin color, the pigment unfazing you. "Life, I guess," He mumbled. He inhaled sharply, coughing as the smoke rounded his lungs. The smoke dispersed into the night air, his hand flying to his mask to cover himself.

"Hey don't do that, you won't be able to breathe as well," You intervened. You grabbed his large hand, your small fingers wrapping around his. Your skin was so warm to the touch, Jack could almost hear your pulse through your touch. "The color of my skin doesn't bother you?" Jack asked in between coughs. His chest began to hurt, his other hand crutching his hoodie. You patted his back, shaking your head. "Argyria, right? Nothing to be ashamed about. Doesn't matter to me," You answered. Jack managed to clear his throat, pulling hand away from yours. He handed the joint back to you, your fingertips brushing against his skin as you took it from him.

Of course you thought he had a skin condition. A logical person couldn't even begin to comprehend what Jack truly was. He noticed the way the weed had affected his senses, the demon leaning back against the tree beside you. "Nice to meet you by the way, i'm y/n," You said. Jack refrained from smiling, afraid you'd see his rows of razor sharp teeth. "I'm Jack, but usually everyone calls me EJ," He answered. He realized you may ask what EJ stood for, heat flushing his cheeks. Instead you handed the joint back to him. "I like the name Jack, suits you," You told him. Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing, your comment more flattering to him than you would ever know.

This time Jack was more confident, bringing the joint to his lips. He inhaled deeply. relaxing as the smoke circulated around his lungs. "There you go, you're getting the hang of it," You say proudly. Playfully you elbowed his arm, causing Jack to jump slightly from the unpredicted contact. Your eyes had fluttered closed, the weed extracting every ounce of tiredness you had. Jack allowed himself to smile. "Do you come here often?" Jack asked. You giggled, your smile as bright as a thousand suns. "Are you hitting on me?" You asked through your fit of giggles. Heat dashed across Jack's cheeks as he exhaled, your comment making him cough. "What? No! I was just starting conversation," Jack rambled. You could practically feel his embarrassment.

"Relax Jack i'm fucking with you," You chuckled. You took the joint from his fingers, placing it back in between your lips. Jack felt relief. He thought maybe he had been depraved of social interaction for too long to engage in a standard conversation. He knew what you both were doing now was considered small talk, but it meant the absolute world to him you were even chatting with him. "To answer your question I do. Mostly when my shitty roommate invites her clan of frat boys over," You say, a hint of annoyance lacing your tone. Jack raised his eyebrows, watching your cloud of smoke evaporate into the night. It was brushed away by a small breeze in an instant. "I assume they aren't your cup of tea?" Jack proposed. You nodded, your eyes still shut. You handed the joint back to Jack, the effects of the miracle plant putting him at ease.

He made a mental note to accept Ben's invitation to smoking more often.

"One of them hit on me my first year. He never got over the rejection I think. There's rumors still floating around two years later I had a threesome with him and another dipshit," You explained. Jack inhaled, his ears twitching at the sound of the paper crinkling from the flame. "To answer your question, no, I absolutely did not have a threesome. My predicament is actually far worse," You mumbled the last part. You had peaked Jack's curiosity, but he chose to keep his questions to himself. "What do they do while you're gone?" Jack asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He focused on the milky smoke, exhaling it through his nostrils. He allowed himself to grin, your eyes still closed.

"They probably gangbang her for all I know," You grumbled. Jack felt unusually heavy, like he could stay in that spot with you forever. Tucked away from the world and curled up under an oak tree. As he took another hit he felt something unusual. Something he couldn't recall he had felt before. Your head had fallen onto his shoulder, your body curled up into a ball as you tucked your knees into your chest. "Do you want the rest of this?" Jack asked, holding the joint out to you. He could hear your breathing becoming heavier, your consciousness drifting away. "Have it. Just let me stay like this for one more moment," You say, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder.

Jack swallowed, his nerves getting the best of him. He could hear your chest rise and fall. Then your heartbeat slowed. You had fallen asleep. On his shoulder. Willingly. Shakily Jack returned the joint to his lips, realizing he was going to need all of the comfort he could get. How could he allow this? What if he woke up hungry? He looked over at you, tossing the ashes of the joint aside and readjusting his mask. On the other hand, you looked so peaceful. How could Jack disrupt that? The night wind blew past of the two of you, a few stray strands of your hair brushing against your face. He watched your nose crinkle as they tickled your skin.

Unsurely he brought his hand to your face, tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear. As your face fell into a perfect state of content, Jack came to the executive decision he would stay right here to protect you until morning came. It wasn't long before the weed evoked his own tiredness, slumber taking over him as it did you.

[allfryam]

freshman 15

jake was finally done. He had just graduated high school and he would be heading off to college in a couple months. It all felt so surreal to him. After this summer, he would never see his classmates again. He wondered what they would look like in a few years time. Jake would also have to leave behind his soccer team. Jake was the captain of his team and soccer was what got him through high school.

all of the exercise was great for Jake as he had rock hard abs on top of a flat stomach. He had defined muscles on just about his entire body. His wavy brown hair was parted in the middle and he had ocean blue eyes you could drown in. Everyone envied his extremely attractive appearance. Jake often went to the gym and ate well to maintain his physique. A bad metabolism ran in his family so he had to work extra hard to eat right and stay fit.

the time had finally come. Jake was in his new dorm when his roommate walked in. His name was Ben. Ben was tall. Really tall Jake wasn’t short by any means but he had to look up to talk to Ben. He looked to be about 6’ 7” with short blonde hair. He had brown eyes and an impeccable jawline. The only flaw that Jake could see was that he had a little bit of a dad bod. Jake could see Ben’s belly pushing against his tight shirt. When he stretched his shirt would ride up to reveal a fuzzy stomach. This disgusted Jake. He couldn’t understand how people could live with being fat. Jake decided not to say anything.

Ben told Jake that this was his second year at the college. He invited Jake to a freshman welcome party that night and Jake was not one to pass up on a party. When he arrived, Ben went straight for the alcohol. “No wonder he was so fat” Jake thought to himself. Jake just hung around and tried to meet new people.

a few weeks into the school year and Jake hadn’t even been to the gym yet. The campus was so big he couldn’t find it anywhere. Besides, he was so busy with his schoolwork that he would t have much time for the gym. He wasn’t worried though. He was confident his body could maintain his amazing fitness until he could get back into the gym.

Jake had been eating less healthy than usual. He would have late nights studying, and the only places that were open only had fast food. It didn’t help that Ben would often order takeout for the both of them and Jake would eat it so Ben wouldn’t feel bad.

One night, around halloween, Jake had been partying all night and decided he would drink some alcohol to take his mind off school. Drinking became a regular occurrence for Jake and it was beginning to take a toll on his perfect body. Jake hadn’t noticed yet but his perfect abs were completely gone. The only thing Jake noticed was Ben, who was also getting fatter.

Jake was able to visit his family for thanksgiving. His brother was the first to comment on his weight gain. “Looks like the freshman 15 got you bro”. He said. Jake looked down and saw a sliver of his belly peeking out from underneath his tight shirt. His face turned red. “Relax. I’m just bulking” he lied. He ran away to the bathroom to examine his new fat. Yup. It was true. His perfect abs had disappeared. They were replaced by a curved stomach and a soft layer of fat. Jake decided to take it easy on the alcohol from now on.

his family prepared an enormous feast for thanksgiving. They had a turkey, stuffing, baked beans, mashed potatoes, casseroles, gravy, Mac and cheese, and delicious rolls. Jake loaded his plate with all of it and drenched it all in gravy. Then he began to feast. He tore through the meal like it was his last, scarfing everything down as quickly as possible. When he was done, he grabbed more eating another mountain of delicious food. The mac and cheese was his favorite he ate like 10 servings! He didn’t tell anyone, but after the first plate, he went to the bathroom to loosen his belt. It was getting uncomfortably tight.

after everyone had finished, Jake was fuller than ever he sat on the couch rubbing his taut stomach. But not long after dinner came dessert. Jakes family prepared pumpkin pie, apple pie, different kinds of cakes, ice cream, cookies, brownies, and pastries. Jake didn’t want to be rude and refuse his family’s cooking, so he prepared his belly for more food. He ate a slice of each pie topped with a scoop of ice cream, a few cookies, at least one piece of each cake,(the banana crème cake was so good he had to get another slice) some brownies, and a big strawberry pastry. After all of that, the buttons on his shirt were starting to get tight. He put on a sweater just in case.

back at college, Ben poked jakes gut and said, “looks like you had a nice thanksgiving”. Jakes face got red and he went to the bathroom. Jake had bought a scale to help maintain his weight while he was in college. This was his first time using it since he got here. When he first arrived he was 154 pounds. Surely he couldn’t be more than 160 now right?…. 170 pounds. Jake couldn’t believe it. He had actually gained 15 pounds. But… maybe it wasn’t so bad. Ben seemed fine and he was way fatter than Jake. Jake decided it wasn’t a big deal and he would lose it eventually. He was hungry though. McDonald’s sounded good…

to be continued….

[lenavonschweetz]

Hunter Insert

Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.

Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut.  It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.

A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics!  Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!

You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.

It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school.  The tall goober took to you immediately.  Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time.  You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business.  He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question.  When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father.  You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.

They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.

You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing.  A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in.  You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.

You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.  

After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up.  It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in.  Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had.  You even became an incredibly capable hunter.  Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started.  Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.

And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.

At first, the fans were harmless.  There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.  

He lied, obviously.

Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.

Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce. 

The art was amazing.  Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent.  But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works.  It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once.  It even got you to start reading the books!

And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!

Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother.  Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.

Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post.  Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst.  Ship. EVER!”

Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.

What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.

Oh goodness, the fanfiction.

What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!

It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them).  You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.

That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.

Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?

And dream you did.  Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.

The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped.  Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.

Oh.

Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.

----------

The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.

Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.

Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.

Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now.  The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.

He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise.  A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last.  They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.

But Dean snored over all of them.

You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.

“Dee.”  You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.

The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.

“Dee!”  You snap, louder now.  Nothing.  “Dean!”

A few moments pass…

Nothing…

Maybe it worked!  Maybe-

Yeah, no,  there he goes again.

Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone.  Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.

You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes.  Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic.  Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search.  It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be?  You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.

Dean x reader smut.

Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.

Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile.  With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.

You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up.  Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room.  As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed.  As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.

Hell, it’s not even in the bed.

Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours.  When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away.  Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.

----------

The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.

You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt.  He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room.  Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building.  It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.

Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office.  You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it.  It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.

Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.

----------

You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam.  You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning.  Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life.  But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.

“You can take the king,”  Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier.  There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day.  “I’ll take the queen.”

You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.

No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep.  It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.

Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table.  He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more.  Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.

You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips.  Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.

You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in.  Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.

Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result.  You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view.  It’s sinful, to say the least.  You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.

Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet.  Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second.  Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way.  His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin.  You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.

Wait…

Silent.

You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence.  A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.

Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away.  Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.

Oh.  

Oh, Jesus.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?”  His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.

“Nothing.”  You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper.  You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain.  When had he woken up?  When had he snuck up behind you?  How much had he read over your shoulder?

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”  He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further.  When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear.  “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”

The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.

He didn’t just say that…did he?  You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you.  Dean makes comments like that all the time.  That’s just how he is with you!  Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.

But then he doesn’t laugh with you.  Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.

You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…

“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?”  He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels.  Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded.  He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.

Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?”  OH MY GOD, you mentally scream.  Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??

But then what if he didn’t?  Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had.  That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom.  The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!

“You read that!?”  You screech, gripping your phone tighter.  You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue.  “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!”  Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.

He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.

“Maybe?”  He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you.  “I didn’t mean to!  I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…”  He clears his throat.  “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”

Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.

“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”

“It literally talks about me fucking you.”  He deadpans, eyebrows raised.  “In explicit detail.  It’s porn.”

You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Ok, fine!  It’s porn, are you happy?”  You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you.  A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”

“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”

“I don’t know!”  You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout.  “It’s embarrassing.  You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”

“Y/N, I would never out you like that.”  You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.

He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.

“Do you…do you want me like that?”  He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.

“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.”  He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.

“Really?  Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”

“Don’tyoudare!”  The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.

“Oh?  Then what should I do?”  His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze.  “Should I do this?”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, please.”  You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him.  Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.

“Words, Y/N.”  He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.

“Dean, please-”  A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone.  “Put your mouth on me.”

Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.

He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders.  The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.

He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties.  To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.

In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading.  But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.

You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair.  He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.

“God, you taste amazing.”  He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle.  “What’s so funny?”  Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had.  Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.

“You got any protection?”  He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.

Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.

So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared.  You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.

He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.

“See something you like, baby?”  He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips.  You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock.  You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.

Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care.  He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.

You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.

The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.

“Oh, my god!”  You huff, getting ever so impatient.  He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned.  A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.  

You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.

“Ready?”  He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips.  Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!”  You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home.  Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.

“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.

It’s been a while for him, too.

“Jesus, you’re tight.”  He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.

“And you’re huge.”  He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing.  “I, uh, think you’re good to move.”  You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips.  When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly.  “Oh, yeah.  Very good to move.”

And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns.  Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face.  Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

“Fuck!”  He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly.  He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally.  Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight.  “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”

You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.

“Let’s slow things down a little.”  He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.

When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.

“Dean,”  You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him.  The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own.  His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.

The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face.  Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom.  You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.

“Well,”  He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you.  As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time.  You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table.  “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?”  He teases as he takes the contraption from you.

“Yeah, Yeah, Dee.  But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”

You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours.  Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.

“Hey, baby?”  He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.

“Hmm?”  You hum, sleep tickling at your mind.   That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.

“What’s Destiel?”

FIN

[rileyslibrary]

Hi, this might be a strange request, but could you please do some sort of character analysis, or maybe tell some of your headcanons for the 141 characters??

I’ve been trying to find some, but everything I find is either weirdly out of character or just some sort of weird projection onto the characters 😭

Not strange at all, anon! It just occurred to me that, for a blog dedicated to Ghost, I’ve never done something like this. Also, I understand what you mean, but it’s also important to remember that headcanons are extremely subjective. Maybe the same applies to my case, and someone also finds my headcanons out of character; who knows?

Please note that I can’t say much about the other boys since I’ve only focused on Ghost, so here are some of my headcanons (i.e. that’s how I personally imagine Ghost):

He’s your average, ordinary guy on the outside. Sure, he is stereotypically attractive (tall, beefy, with a deep voice), but so are a billion other people in this world. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, which is precisely what makes him so intriguing.

I like to imagine his personality similarly to how he wears his uniform—layer, under layer, under layer. You want to peel him like an onion; uncover what lies beneath the surface.

He’s extremely pragmatic and values function over form. It doesn’t matter if something looks bad/ugly/weird as long as it gets the job done. If it works, it works.

Moderation gives him a sense of discipline. He wants to control everything that’s within his ability to do so—managing what food he puts in his body, regulating his alcohol intake, handling finances, and even carefully choosing his words. It helps him maintain his sanity, knowing he has control over his life, especially considering what he went through.

He’s also incredibly efficient. He doesn’t waste time on things that aren’t important or beyond his control.

He’s not a gym rat (he doesn’t regard it as a second home), but he’s definitely a regular. The gym owners are familiar with him, though their interactions are brief—maybe they exchanged a few words to renew his membership in the past, but that’s about it.

He tends to stick to the free-weight section at the gym. If it’s crowded, he’ll put on his headphones to tune everything out, but if it’s quiet, he doesn’t bother. While he doesn’t use the machines often, he’ll turn to them occasionally, particularly when he needs more controlled movement.

Warming up before exercising is particularly important to him, and he takes his time to stretch afterwards, usually in an isolated corner of the gym. He never skips leg day.

He is not a flirt. Usually, it’s others who pursue him rather than the other way around. It’s almost like he has it too easy in that department. He doesn’t have to make much effort—he simply goes about his business (occasionally checking his surroundings for potential dangers,) and suddenly, people gravitate towards him. He’s not a fan of this attention but keeps it to himself.

He engages in a flirtatious exchange almost every day with the elderly lady who manages the convenience store in his neighbourhood, though. He often compliments her on her hair and how young she looks and sometimes jokes that if her late husband were still around, he’d have some competition. She, in return, offers him freebies, which he politely declines. However, he sometimes accepts these gestures in exchange for lending a hand with tasks around the store.

His apartment is modest since he travels a lot, yet he considers it his personal haven when he returns to it. He deliberately keeps it free of any traces of his alternate identity. There’s a family photo framed somewhere. Even his dad included. Maybe he considered cutting him out of the picture but decided against it. He wants to be reminded of both the positive and negative experiences that influence his decisions and actions.

He likes to make his own jokes. They mostly come to him when he does something mundane, like cooking, showering, or watching TV. He doesn’t take offence if others don’t laugh at his jokes, though. He simply views them as idiots or lacking a sense of humour.

He opts for public transport only when needed, like during heavy traffic, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He keeps his back against the wall and doesn’t wear headphones since he wants to be aware of his surroundings.

He breaks fights if he stumbles upon them late at night and calls the police. When the officers arrive, he is the first to talk to them and usually scolds them for not getting there faster.

I don’t think he wears his mask when he’s out and about. In my mind, Simon Riley is different from Ghost. If someone manages to connect the dots, he’ll make sure it’s the last time they do so. For him, good people don’t know who Ghost is. Only bad people do.

He wants to extend his sleeve tattoo further up his arm but struggles to find the time to schedule an appointment with his tattoo artist. Yes, he has a trusted tattoo artist.

[rinaxtaros]

[08] | RED.

Summary: You and Sebastian are left to scout out the circus.

— undercover (adjective) involving secret work within a community or organization, especially for the purposes of police investigation or espionage.

"Are you ready?" The tall frame of the red and yellow striped tents casts an ominous shadow over both you and Sebastian’s beings. The faint glow from the flickering candle lights scattered throughout the grassy fields provides a dim luminescence. You glance at the taller man, taking in his features. Somehow, the yellow-lighting which would always make a regular person look absolutely dreadful, makes Sebastian look more alluring.

You try not to linger on the thought too long, though.

"Let's not keep them waiting too long.” You grumble, falling into pace with Sebastian. The demon had wasted no time in your arrival, as he had almost immediately switched into his feeble past-butler role. His love for theatrics was the most human thing about his existence.

Ciel had sent you and Sebastian join first as to give the younger boy the upper hand when coming the next day. Ciel wasn’t too good at acting on the spot so in his words, he wanted to be “prepared in a manner that the Queen herself would appreciate.”

“Hurry now, [y/n].” Sebastian calls sensually, shooting you a smug look. You scoff, not realising how you had fell behind. Each step causes the heel of your shoe to melt into the softened soil, causing your journey to be less than satisfactory.

“Stupid shoes…” You murmer, pulling your feet from the ground in a less than elegant manner. Who do you have to impress here? Some foul human involved in the disappearance and probable murder of young children? Even as a demon you know these people are worth less than the disgusting muck coated against your heels.

The performance had put you in a positively sour mood. Sebastian’s love for felines clouded his judgement and he put his head and the tigers mouth. Dwelling over the situation continues to make it feel less and less real and more like you’ve pulled the story out of your ass. You’re sure Ciel would shout at you for telling him lies if you reported this back to him.

However, the little stunt has now landed you in the medical tent and behind the iron privacy bars. You’ve unfortunately come to terms with the fact that Sebastian’s stupid decision has allowed you to gain closer insight to the dynamics behind the scenes.

"You seem quite alright even though your man got bit by a tiger, ye?" The ginger ringleader, Joker, laughs as he observes the sour look on your face. Sebastian had been acting coy with Beast and the medic, claiming he was just too fascinated with big cats.

You look over at the man who was a little too close for your liking and size him up. His face paint was starting to fade, probably from the layer of sweat he produced running around the circus to calm the patrons.

You flick your hair over your shoulder as you look back at your companion for the night, "He likes the attention.”

Sebastian’s eyes remained close, which you’re sure is on purpose because the stupid expression pisses you off to no end. Ciel would be absolutely fuming if Sebastian had pulled that stunt while he was here, so you know he’s aware how stupid it was.

In between conversations, the busty tiger tamer you now know as the stage name Beast had promptly beelined towards the busy doctor. She was complaining about her prosthetic leg and how it was starting to lock up on her. Sebastian was quick to ask a few questions as prosthetics aren’t an openly common practice within your part of England.

You ignore how Joker burns holes into your body. He was unabashedly checking you out, but you paid no mind. You understand his questionable approach to your identity seeing as your clothes aren’t far off from your normal attire. Joker observes how maid-like your dress is but you surprisingly didn't dawn any of the usual frilly material or awfully tacky headband. The rest of the crew recognise how connected you and Sebastian seem to be seeing as you two seem to have silent conversations with each other just by looking at each other. To them, however, you look like a pair.

Sebastian had maneauvered himself beside Beast who perched herself onto the desk in front of the doctor. He was quick and no one within the tent had realised what Sebastian was doing before he lifted the girls leg and subsequently exposed her panties to everyone looking at the two.

A pregnant pause falls over the tent. You watch, eyes darting between every member of the circus.

One beat, two beat, thr—

Swiftly, you’ve placed yourself to the side of the commotion. Before anyone could blink, Beast screams and grasps her whip. Joker and the chirpy blonde one are crying out for the commotion to stop just as quickly as it’s started. However, in the middle of the chaos, Sebastian smiles.

Truthfully, it is quite amusing to watch Sebastian barely break a sweat when avoiding the onslaught attack.

All fun must come to an end, though.

"I'm afraid we must get going now." Your hand grabs the whip as it flies out in front of you. No one had noticed the your quick manoeuvre across the room until you placed yourself in the middle of the chaos. Beast stutters to find the right words as her whip is pulled out of her hands and dropped to the dirt floor with a dulled thud.

Sebastian waves his free hand as a goodbye gesture as you’re currently grabbing the sleeve of his other hand.

Sebastian follows without much of a fight, but he mumbles something as Joker comes running after you both. Surprisingly, he’s able to keep up with your fast-paced walk.

"Hey! Wait a minute, won't ya?" He asks hopefully, extending a hand "Those are some gymnastics you have there lad, and you can move fast lass!”

Sebastian places a gentle hand over your own. You freeze, staring at him. The fist you created on his blazer unclenches and falls to your side.

"I would offer you a place but-"

"Oh, really, you're not having a jest?" Sebastian smiles kindly "I am getting quite sick of my current master...” Sebastian pauses, looking back at you with a devious smile.

You furrow your brows, that good for nothing is up to something!

“My partner too." Sebastian lifts his hand to smooth down your hair. Your words get caught in your mouth as you realise what stunt he is now pulling. You try your best to smile through the irritation as you know Sebastian is enjoying the whole act.

Joker smiles brightly "Great! We'll have auditions tomorrow!"

Sebastian bows "You don't mind if I bring a friend along?" Joker shakes his head "If he's half as good as you I'm sure he'll do well!"

"I'm sure he will.” You add, cutting off the conversation. As much as you could care less about the conversation you just wanted to cut Sebastian’s fun off quicker. Knowing your luck, he was going to start holding your hand.

Ugh.

“Your behaviour was reckless, Sebastian.” You scold Sebastian as you mindlessly walk back to the Phantomhive manor. Your footsteps fall in sync, each crunch, snap and step sounding simultaneously. A pregnant silence falls between both you and Sebastian. The sound of the night surrounds you as the sounds of the wildlife settle in the bushes encasing the pathways.

“Reckless? How so?” Sebastian humours as he continues to walk, unfazed by your annoyance. You clicks your tongue and your roll your eyes as you glance at Sebastian. Of course he has that cocky smile on his face.

”You got your head stuck in the tigers jaw, then you had to go and reveal Beast to her team.” Sebastian muffles a laugh, eyes flicking leisurely to his right to look down at you. You stare back with frustration glazed over your pupils. 

Sebastian laughs as he realises you won’t step down from the petty argument.

“It was just an accident, love.” He smiles, “You aren’t jealous are you, sin of Lust?” He teases as he raises his gloved hand grasp your chin, effectively stopping the two from walking and you from turning away. Automatically, you turn your body to get a better look at the flirtatious demon, hardening your gaze as you grasp at the hand on your chin. You try to push it away but his grips on stronger. His tongue flicks out to wet his lip, lowering his head to close the gap between them. He enjoys watching you struggle.

”Don’t flirt with me, Michaelis.” You spit, “A typical man, aren’t you? Using sexual advances to get out of an argument.” You take the chance to plant your hands against his chest and push. Sebastian falls back a few steps, spluttering.

“I am not jealous.”

With that, you turn on your heel and begin to walk away; leaving Sebastian in the dark of the night.

As Sebastian stands in the dark and watched your figure disappear into the night sky, he decides that he quite likes this dynamic.

[thatanimeramenchick]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do something for Yander Lucifer from Hazbin(this man as me in a choke hold I swear!) with a hellhound reader who works for Charlie at the Hotel? if not that’s alright!

Lucifer and Hellhound Reader

Honestly, same, sis. Same. Let’s just say I’d also pay 50,000 for that man. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t know how to write this at first, but I think I was able to work with it after some thinking. Thanks for your patience!

TW: Attempted SA

---

It was no secret that hell was overrun, and not just by the sinners, though there was a ridiculous amount of them. It was everywhere, especially in the lowest class of hellhounds. The pounds were overflowing with the abandoned canine youth. You had expected that eventually someone would “adopt” you for the free brunt labor you would have to offer their company.

But fate had smiled on you for once. You now stood in the hall of a hotel owned by the princess of hell, waiting with the other guests and “employees” as Charlie hyperventilated about her father’s first visit to her hotel. You could remember her voice from the day she had taken you in.

“Hey, what are you doing out on the street in the rain? You should come inside, even if for a little while. Get out of the rain.”

You had finally aged out of the system six months ago and been kicked out on the streets, and you’d wandered from town to town, unable to find decent work. Now, you had made it to Pentagram City, sure you would find something. You were having a hard time finding anything that wasn’t sex or drug related. And now you had some kind of offer coming from the tall, pale girl in front of you. You had hesitated to take the offer though. A hotel? For all you knew it could be a brothel or something.

“Charlie, you need to come in. It’s a mess out here,” you heard.

The girl talking to you yelled back, “In a minute, Vaggie! Hey, it’s ok. I promise you don’t have to pay anything, and you can stay as long as you’d like! If you hate it, I swear you can leave!”

Normally, you would have turned it down. Trust was something that didn’t really exist in your life. There was something in her eyes though, a certain… genuine look in her eyes that you hadn’t seen since you were a pup.

“All right,” you acquiesced, nerves in your stomach. At the first sign of anything odd, you would be bolting.

But it hadn’t been a lie. Somehow, in hell of all places, there was something good, kind, wholesome. You had staid overnight, and true to her word, Charlie had continued to let you crash as the days went by. Feeling a little guilty crashing without offering anything, you offered to help clean a little here and there, and then found they had no regular chef and had offered to try to provide regular food. Food that was only half edible, but still, Charlie insisted it was better than nothing.

And now, you were living with the princess of hell full time. It was a quiet life, and you didn’t want to do anything to upset that. So, nervous as you were, you remained in the background as much as possible as Charlie welcomed her father in and showed off her hotel.

“And this is F/N! Vaggie and I took her in and now she works here! She does a lot of cooking and some tidying as well.”

You bow.

“It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty,” you say.

He barely glances in your direction but does acknowledge you with an awkward smile. Soon, he is back talking with Charlie. While you didn’t know about him, he seemed pleasant enough and to care for his daughter. You could see where Charlie got her cheerfulness from.

Not exactly what you had expected from the king of hell.

---

You felt so stupid. You can’t believe you had ever compared the innocent honesty of Charlie to her father’s lies. He had told Charlie that he needed help. Not long after his visit, he had told Charlie he needed assistance with his organizing his inventive work, and she had asked if you would be willing to help. You had agreed, trusting her, and you had been moving back and forth between the two places for weeks, both before and after the mess at the failed Extermination Day. From all you could tell, he had a sort of non-interest in you, though he did appreciate your work.

Apparently though, at some point, something had changed. It was subtle, but you caught the lingered gazes, the softer tone he used, the almost nervous way he laughed around you when something humerus came up in conversation. You hadn’t thought anything of it, but apparently there was something deeper there, as you had learned a few days ago.

You had started on your way back to the hotel, insisting you walk even though it was late in the evening, and someone had grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and yanked you into one of the many dark alleys.

“Look, a fresh bitch.”

“Looks like she hasn’t been too roughed up yet.”

You had attempted to bite down on the hands grabbing at you, but it was difficult if not impossible. You felt your clothes being ripped at before a light blinded you, and apparently, everyone else in the ally. You felt yourself being dropped on the ground as the light radiated from the sky.

“You dare to touch a servant of Lucifer?” you heard, though you couldn’t see him through the blinding light.

The men didn’t even have time to respond. You didn’t see what happened as screams enveloped the air. When the light finally cleared, you saw Lucifer standing before you, ash and dust in the air.

“You all right?” he asked.

You were still quite shaken and barely had the strength to reply.

“Yes. T-thank you,” you said.

“… You should probably come back,” he said.

“What?”

“Back to the house. It’s closer than the hotel. Just to get some rest. You shouldn’t have to worry about going to the hotel after something like that.”

“O-ok….”

Looking back, you should have found it strange he didn’t offer to just teleport you back to the hotel... or the fact that he knew you were in danger in the first place.

---

“You could stay,” he said.

“What?” you had asked.

It was a four days since the incident.

“That way you don’t have to make the long trip every day. There’s plenty of room here for you,” he said it casually, as if making a business proposition.

“No, that’s all right, I don’t mind the walk,” you said.

He frowned.

“You might not mind the walk, but it’s not the safest idea,” he said, “You don’t want something happening like it did the other day.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, “I bought some mace. You know, the special made with murder hornets and Carolina reaper mace that you only get in hell.”

You laugh it off, not too worried, but he doesn’t seem to share your amusement. He shrugs and lets the subject drop though.

---

It had been a week since the incident, and you were seething.

He had locked you away.

Like you were a pet or possession.

Nothing had happened the day before, at least that was what you insisted. But he didn't seem to care. He said it wasn’t true. That men were leering at you, thinking of hurting you, violating you. You were too innocent to even notice it, and he had to keep you locked up, even if you didn’t understand it.

“This is for your own good. You know how dangerous hell is,” Lucifer was speaking in a calm tone, not making eye contact with you. He spoke as if you were a child throwing a tantrum for not being allowed to run onto the freeway.

“And you think the solution is to keep me locked away like a pet?” you yelled, “What is your life so out of control that you have to control me instead?”

It probably wasn’t a bright idea to talk back to the lord of hell, but he doesn’t even look fazed. If he is upset by your words, it doesn’t show.

“You’ll see. You know I’m right. If anything, you should know that better than anyone. Hell is out of control, and considering you don’t have a soul in the same way sinners do, I would think you would be more understanding of my desire to keep you safe.”

“Safe? If you cared at all about my safety, you would have worked to make hell a better place like your daughter did, rather than staying locked away and moping about how lonely you are. It’s pathetic and cowardly, not facing the mess that been it’s said that you created, even now.”

A certain dark look crossed his face briefly, but he pushed it away before looking at you. He took a slow breath.

“You are too young to know what you’re talking about. If it wasn’t for my ‘mess,’ you wouldn’t even be here right now. Clearly, you’re too emotional to think straight right now. I think you need some time to cool off.”

As he finishes his words, he disappears in a flash of mist, leaving you alone. A snarl of frustration escapes your mouth as he dissipates.

---

Some Thoughts: I think the idea of Lucifer falling in love with a hellborn actually makes more sense to some extent. At least I see him being more receptive to someone who was simply born and abides in hell than someone who earned a place in hell from their bad behavior. From what Lute said, I’m pretty sure Lucifer has protected the hellborn from extermination, showing that he holds them on a different level than the sinners, at least to some extent. He may look at you as something innocent he wants to protect from corruption.

[toram-toram]

The sneak peek of your fic…I fell to my knees

His tallman form just suits the pervy middle-aged man look SO WELL (regular chilchuck doesn’t look sleazy enough imo)

He’s so mean to you, but he’s secretly fantasizing about doing all sorts of nasty shit to you & doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he takes it out on you

Oh my god the panty sniffing - do you think he steals them too??

pls ignore me if the question makes you uncomfortable! I just have a lot of chucklefuck thoughts >.<

HIHIHI IM HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE TO TALK TO ABOUT THISSS

Tall Man Chilchuck is definitely one of those men who spends his free time drinking beer while watching whatever show is on the tv. And almost every night before bed he watches some porn to jerk off to.

And omg if he has a crush on you... he would 100% act like an old jerk 😭 I feel like he would also tease and poke you a lot bc that's the only physical contact he dares to do. He might be middle-aged but his emotional skills are on the same level as a 15 year old...

But YEEES he's so emotionally constipated he doesn't know how to act around you!! Sometimes he's a jerk, sometimes he's super sweet, friendly and playful and sometimes he's super cold AND IT DRIVES YOU INSANE!! WHAT'S WITH THESE MIXED SIGNALS??

I bet that every time after a hangout, Chilchuck just lies in bed thinking back about things he said to you and cringe a lot lol "Ugh wtf did I say that? What a loser" or something like that.

He would be so frustrated over his actions but specifically, over YOUR actions!! How dare you look so pretty? How dare you sit next to him, he always gets dizzy over your smell and the proximity. How dare you dress that way? Like... super sexy and cute ugh c'mon.

And then he notices he's blushing super hard and touching his crotch over his pants... The only solution? Open p*rnhub and search videos of someone with the same features as yours. After that, go to sleep with a heavy conscience.

About the stealing panties... He would heavily consider it... But I think he would stop himself before he reaches it lol, he would probably think about his daughters, especially if you are younger than him, he would feel absolutely disgusted. But omg Imagine if you forget something in his house after a hangout at his place, like a sweater or something... He would definitely be smelling and touching himself to it. After all, you sent him a message asking for him to return it to you, so he might as well enjoy it while he has it...

Anyway... I spoke too much lol but I'm suuuuper normal about him...

[thedroneranger]

Say My Name

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: You and your crew enjoy playing games with the aviators at the local navy bar. You may have finally met your match...

Note: Stumbled across a meme that inspired this one. Hoping you think it’s as fun and light as I do—enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.0k

It was innocent enough. Meet someone, introduce yourself with a fake name and see where the night takes you.

The game was even more fun as a civilian in a Navy bar bursting with aviators. They had no shame introducing themselves with their call signs, taking you home and never speaking to you again. Why should I?

I have to admit: It was a lot of fun. Made things feel low stakes. The hookups were a mixed bag, but that was part of the fun. 

The following week, you reconvened at the bar to brag about your time between the sheets or, at the very least, share a funny bit you gleaned as compensation. 

Since the bar was about as transient as the LAX airport, it was rare to run into someone twice. Plus, by now, we knew the Regulars—Regs for short. They, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered to remember us.

An in-game challenge we liked to issue each other was running into Regs and seeing if they remembered us. You lose, you buy a round. You win, your drinks are everyone else’s problem for the rest of the night. 

This week was no exception. Skye, real name, had saved seats at the bar for Jane, real name, and I. Perfectly timed, the bartender delivered our drinks as we sat. 

Upholding our tradition, Skye arrived first, so she shared her conquest first. She had caught the eye of a tall, sun-kissed pilot, call sign Rooster, that lived up to the implied innuendo. For the first time, Skye wanted, no needed, a Reg! Our resident one-hit wonder, she refused to touch the same pawn twice. 

Meanwhile, Jane went home with a handsome guy, call sign Harvard. The three of us chuckled as she proceeded to rant about how he must’ve been a nepo baby to get into the country's most elite university. That, or all the jet fuel really killed quite a few brain cells. Thank goodness the head between his legs required only blood flow—it did not disappoint. However, she would rather watch paint dry than have to attempt to hold a conversation with him again. 

Now my turn, the pair looked at me expectantly. Both saw me leave with a suave blond pilot, call sign Hangman. 

Hangman was one of the smoother pilots I’d met. He stumbled upon me alone, sitting at the bar, Skye and Jane elsewhere toying with their catches.

“This seat taken?” He had a faint southern drawl. 

“All yours,” I responded. The bartender arrived with my drink, and Hangman wordlessly ordered his own. 

We looked at each other. His eyes were a stunning jade, and his smile was absolutely lethal.

Thankfully, I’d been told time and time again my grin was just as fatal. I let myself pretend that was the reason he was looking. Throughout the night, his gaze would drop to my mouth often. Occasionally, it would drift down my neck and sometimes lower.

His beer arrived and we continued to banter. Finally, an opportunity arose to exchange names. “Hangman,” he said, tipping his beer bottle toward me. 

“Alex,” I lied as I touched the edge of my drink to his. “Friends call me Lex.” I winked as I sipped my beverage.

Part of the fun was how long you could keep their attention or how often they got distracted by an easier target. I had to hand it to Hangman, I did not peg him as a blinders-on kind of guy, but he was. 

As the night wore on, we sat closer and closer. Surprisingly, I had not noticed when he hooked his foot on my barstool and was subtly inching me toward him.

My elbow was resting on the bar, our bodies turned mostly toward each other. Hangman had just delivered a punchline to an actually funny joke that made me genuinely laugh. 

“You know,” I looked at him through my lashes, “your accent gets thicker with every beer.”

His megawatt smile appeared. “The drawl is how I draw ya in.” He winked and knocked my knee with his. 

Damn, he was charming. 

If I hadn’t been sitting at the bar with him for the last couple hours, I’d find it hard to believe this funny, affable human was the same cocky asshole shit-talking his friends and sharking their cash in darts earlier in the evening.

Last call crept up on us. We stayed in our seats as we closed our tabs—a true gentleman, Hangman insisted he pick up my drinks. 

“Nightcap at my place?” He offered as he finished his signature with a gallows stick figure. A chuckle escaped me as I nodded in response. “What?” he inquired, cocking his head a little.

My eyes still on the receipt, I subtly gestured my chin in the same direction. “You’re really into your call sign.” He smirked, his deep dimples making an appearance as we vacated our seats.

“Only here,” he responded. “Makes the bartenders smile—I like to leave this place in good humor.” His hand slipped to the small of my back as we walked out.

He insisted he drive my car to his place, so I could leave at my leisure. He’d get his from the bar in the morning. 

“I’m surprised you live here.” I initiated conversation as he drove. I watched a smile tug his features. 

“Well, I wasn’t completely honest.” He stole a quick glance at me before putting his eyes back on the road. “I’m staying at a buddy’s house. He’s out of town while I’m in town, so he lent me his place. Allows me to avoid the barracks, and I return the favor when he’s in my neck of the woods.” He paused. “Have you ever been?”

It was the politest way I’d ever been asked if I were a tag chaser. “To the barracks? I have not had pleasure,” I responded. Sarcasm coloring my tone. 

“You’re not missing anything,” he quipped with a wink. I smiled mostly to myself. The rest of the ride was silent between us but not awkward. The radio was our soundtrack until he cut the engine in the driveway of a quaint little bungalow. 

As I exited, Hangman came around to shut the door and take my hand. We walked to the house, and once inside he left me to my own devices while he snagged some beers from the fridge. 

Hangman handed me a longneck as we settled into the couch, me tucked into his side. After some small talk, our beers almost empty, he was leaning toward me. His eyes locked on my lips. “You know,” I said as he continued to close the gap between us. “You’re much more of a gentleman that I was expecting.”

His signature smirk appeared. “There’s still time for me to not be a gentleman.” He pressed his lips to mine. Eagerly, I forced him back so I could climb into his lap. One palm rested on his chest, while the other tugged his locks. 

He groaned as I rolled my pelvis into his and roughly pulled on his lower lip. Playfully, I sat back, biting my own lip and batting my lashes. Hangman’s hands settled into the back pockets of my jeans and kneaded my backside. “Something tells me you're trouble.”

Our smirks mirrored one another. “Aren’t you lucky, you get to find out firsthand.” I leaned in for one more kiss, before slipping off his lap. Zero hesitation, he popped up, grabbed my hand and led me to his room. 

We barely crossed the threshold, and Hangman was peeling his shirt over his head. I mimicked his action, and we slipped our pants off at the same time. He watched as I slowly stood to my full height. His eyes wandered the length of my legs and then studied the tiny swathe of fabric covering my apex. 

As he looked, I turned so his eyes followed the curve of my thighs to my buttocks and then up my back. I was looking over my shoulder at him as he realized my bra was dangling from my index finger. My smile widened as the garment hit the floor, and then I sashayed to the bed.

He watched me sink onto the mattress. Knees wide, I let my legs dangle over the side and leaned back on one palm. The other was busy kneading my nipples to taut peaks. 

Even in the dim light of the room, I could see his pupils were completely blown. He sauntered over and stood between my knees. Tilting my head up, I met his gaze. Staring down at me, he tangled a hand in my hair. My eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his next command. 

Instead, he untangled his hand from my trusses. Eyes open with curiosity, I kept his gaze as he sank to his knees, resting his palms on the tops of my thighs. We never broke eye contact as he kissed each of my kneecaps. 

My breath hitched as his calloused fingers ghosted up my legs and curled around the sides of my panties. Almost involuntarily, my hips lifted so he could slip the garment down. Hangman took his time sliding them off, letting his fingers trail the entire length of my legs. Settling himself, he looped one of my legs over each shoulder. The position forced me to lie further back and prop myself on my elbows. 

I chewed my lip as he nosed and kissed along my inner thighs. His smirk appeared as he got closer to where I really wanted him. “As a gentleman, I’ll make you come first.” A wet, hot kiss punctuated his statement.

Before I could retort, he spread me with his fingers and suctioned his lips around my bundle of nerves. If it weren’t for his hand anchoring my hip, my entire body would've come off the bed. “Oh, fuck!” I nearly shouted as his fingers slipped down to my soaking hole. 

He pulled away, tugging my clit before letting it go, to watch his thick fingers languidly sink into me. Every come-hither motion had me seeing stars and the band in my lower stomach pulling tighter. Coupled with him lapping my core, I was nearly over the edge. The final push was a string of phrases, including ‘just like that’ and ‘good girl’ leaving his mouth.

I sat up and squeezed my eyes shut as my orgasm rippled through me. Hangman slipped from beneath my legs and settled beside me on the bed, ushering me to lay back down. Prolonging my peak, he scissored his fingers and enjoyed my walls tightening around his digits.

Finally through my high, Hangman removed his fingers. That disappointingly empty feeling washing over me, I opened my eyes to see him cleaning my arousal from his hand. “You’re sweet,” he said as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and looked down at me. 

My hand went to the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. Sloppily, I licked his mouth and sucked his lips to taste myself. We broke apart. “Mhmmm, needed to confirm,” I explained. His smile appeared as he pushed his lips back to mine.

Hangman growled as I sank my teeth into his bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, he slipped off the bed to grab a condom, rolling it on as he came back. He grabbed my ankle to position me at the edge of the bed so his length was resting against my throbbing apex.

The backs of my thighs rested against the front of his. He still had a hold on my ankle, while my other leg hooked around his hip. I watched as Hangman laid my leg against his chest. Then he toured the length of it until his hand came to rest on my hip. 

We kept eye contact as he leaned forward. “It’s my turn.” His hand slipped between us to guide his length into me. A hissed deflated my lungs as he seated himself. Girthier than his fingers, he gave me a few seconds to adjust.

Every couple of thrusts, his pace increased. Now verging on brutal, he hooked my legs around his arms as he planted his palms on the bed for more leverage. I couldn’t help the moans that escaped my lips as he relentlessly drove into me. 

“Taking me so well,” he complimented. “That’s a good girl, Lex.”

Lex? 

Who the fuck was Lex?!

My body reacted before my mind, and my open palm connected with his cheekbone. Hangman’s hips stuttered, but only for a moment. “What was that for?” he asked between thrusts. 

Fuck. 

I’m Lex.

I forgot…

Fortunately, Hangman seemed none the wiser. “I need to know so I can do it again,” he clarified, smirking. 

“Shut up,” I ignored his question. “Put your hand around my neck.”

“Choke you?” he rephrased. 

Whining, I clawed at his wrist. “Yes, please!” 

He obliged, placing his palm over the column of my throat. His thumb, fore and middle fingers applied pressure to the sides of my neck. A hum buzzed up my throat and my bottom lip disappeared between my teeth as he applied pressure. 

The only sounds in the room were both of us panting and skin against skin. His hand had since left my neck and was cradling my head, fingers curled in my hair, while the other was planted beside me on the bed.

One of my hands reached between us to draw tight circles on my engorged nerves. Occasionally, I’d slip my fingers into a V around his base. “Yes, keep your hand there,” he instructed. I obeyed, squeezing rhythmically. A drawn out ‘fuck’ left his lips as his hips stuttered while he came. 

Hangman buried his face in the crook of my neck, but kept his pace to encourage my second orgasm. His hand replaced mine between us. The calluses of his thumb added just enough sensation to push me into my next pleasure wave. “Fuck, I love when you squeeze me.” His pace slowed at the same rate as my aftershocks.

Hangman uncurled himself from me, and I whined at the loss of heat and sat up. He threw me his discarded t-shirt before wandering to the bathroom. A minute or two later, he came back with a warm washcloth and, kneeling in front of me, gently cleaned me up. 

Offering his hand, he pulled me to standing. Then, before returning to the ensuite bathroom, he turned down the blankets and motioned for me to climb in. 

Jokingly poking a finger to my chest, I looked over my shoulder and then back at him. “You want me to stay?” 

His signature smirk reappeared as he walked over to me, standing close enough I had to look up at him. “Can I tell you a secret?” I nodded, waiting. He bent down so his lips met my ear. “I’m a cuddler.” He whispered, and then placed a chaste kiss at the top of my jaw, before dipping past me to the bathroom.

By the time Hangman came back, I was nestled into his bed, postcoital sleepiness settling in. He draped himself over me, wrapping an arm around my waist and slipping his leg between mine. The last thing I remembered was him pressing kisses to the back of my neck. 

A few hours later, I stirred to find myself tucked into Hangman’s side, him on his back. My head and hand on his chest, and my leg looped over his. His arm was slack in the valley between my hip and ribs.

I wanted to stay there with Hangman. Kiss him awake and then convince him to go to breakfast, but that wasn’t part of the game.

Begrudgingly, I slipped from his grasp. However, I had decided I was keeping his t-shirt. Collecting my clothing, I slipped on some pants. Then, I crept over to the bathroom to make sure I was somewhat presentable. Gathering the rest of my belongings, I hopped into my vehicle and headed home. 

Keeping up the facade, I left the longing details out of my story as I wrapped it up. Jane and Skye were both ready to jump on me with a million questions.

However, instead, their attention was drawn behind me. Confused, I swiveled in my seat to find Hangman leaning against the counter, looking right at me. 

“Hey, stranger.” My heart definitely skipped a beat. 

His gorgeous grin appeared as he stood to his full height and leaned closer to me. “Hey, stranger,” he repeated. “Left without a trace on Saturday.”

“Is that not what you wanted?” His gaze was intense, yet I couldn’t look away. 

“Not at all.” A drink arrived for him, and he winked at the bartender. “I was hoping we would go out for breakfast.” He sipped his beer. “Exchange phone numbers.” He paused again. “Real names.”

I’d been had. 

He smiled at my silent confirmation. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked in a lower voice. 

Hangman leaned further in to whisper into my ear. “And ruin such a hot moment?” We pulled just far enough apart to look each other in the eye. “I was sad when you weren’t there for Round 2 in the morning.” 

I couldn’t help but grin. Heat filled my cheeks, as I looked at my shoes for a moment. 

“Instead of you toying with another flyboy’s heart tonight, I’m going to buy your drinks and get to know you…” he trailed off. I finished his sentence with my name, which he repeated with a grin. 

“I knew you weren’t a Lex.” He winked. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

“Hi, Jake. Nice to meet you.” I winked back before taking a sip of my drink.

Jake let out a hearty laugh that squinted his eyes. 

Skye’s hand brushed my shoulder as she and Jane vacated the area. They both gave Jake little waves. In exchange, he relayed soft thank yous.

He pulled my stool as close to his as possible and looped his arm around the back. “Well,” he looked down at me, “now that I know your name, I want to know everything else.”

“Good thing we have all night.”

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[homelanderbutbig]

An Angel Waiting For Him (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1946 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Beginnings of a relationship.

When you first learned about Homelander's weakness to head scratches.

Homelander's been inviting you up to his penthouse more often lately. He's never really had friends before, let alone someone he can trust like you, so you figure he appreciates the company. As Homelander prefers to keep a tight schedule, your near daily visits happen at a regular time. It's become an enjoyable ritual of sorts, getting to see him and talk about your days together.

Truth be told, Homelander isn't sure what to make of you. You are so nice to him, but he's skeptical if he should let you get this close. The only humans he's been attached to are horrible people that he can't bring himself to kill… outside of Madelyn. Even though he loved her like a mother, she not only lied to him but she had been afraid of him throughout their whole relationship. Their entire bond was built on fraud… but he can never remove her entirely from his thoughts. He misses the way she provided him comfort, the way she let him lay his head on her lap… even if it was all just a lie.

During your afternoon break, you decide to spend some quiet time away from your co-workers in Homelander's penthouse. Although he isn't inside, he has given you permission to go there whenever you want. Walking into the tranquil silence of the penthouse, you make your way to the living room to lounge on his oversized couch. You tuck yourself into the corner of the couch, with your back on the armrest for the perfect view to watch the clouds pass by the window.

Just as you begin to feel at ease, you hear Homelander storming into the penthouse. His footsteps are louder than normal, a telltale sign that someone has pissed him off. He plunks himself on the couch next to you, with such a hefty thud that you are shocked his landing didn't catapult you across the room. Tilting his head back, he lets out an exasperated huff as he massages the bridge of his nose.

"Rough day?" you ask, sighing as you sit upright. Whatever uneventful break you intended to have is clearly not going to happen now.

"I can't believe I have to work with such idiots," Homelander grumbles, dropping his hand heavily into his lap. "These fuckers have no idea what I do for them, and yet they think they can treat me like I'm not the one in charge of my team."

"That must be difficult, feeling so used," you say, attempting to console him.

"Yes! Thank you!" he shouts as he raises his hands into the air, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he intended. "It's like nobody here understands how much I sacrifice for them. I'm just here to say my lines and make them money. I'm a real fucking person! I'm still the captain of The Seven, not them!"

After ending his rant, he looks down at you expectantly, like he is waiting for you to stroke his ego some more. It's what you've come to anticipate from Homelander, the one sure-fire way to bring him out of a sour mood. However, today you came up here for some peace and quiet. Possibly, you think a different tactic can help him unwind too.

"I'm sorry Homelander. I know how frustrating it can be to be treated like that," you say, looking up at him while you scoot a bit closer to place your hand on his thigh. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know, alright?"

Homelander gawks at you, blindsided by your abrupt changing of the routine. You were supposed to tell him how great he is and how everyone else is wrong, so he could go about his merry way. Instead, your words are bringing up memories of Madelyn, and a thought pops into his head. One that he is uncertain that you would let him do with you.

With a wave of nervousness overcoming him, Homelander averts his eyes from you while clenching his fists and tensing the muscles in his jaw. He's terrible at hiding his feelings; you know there's something tumbling around that big head of his.

"You look like you want to say something else," you remark, giving his leg a gentle pat. "You know you can tell me anything, I won't judge."

"I, um…" he mutters, eye darting frantically before he closes them, trying to steady himself with a deep breath. "I… want to try something… if you, uh… if you'll let me."

"Sure, go ahead," you respond, nodding your head. You aren't quite sure what Homelander is asking for, but your curiosity is piqued.

"O-okay…" he stutters, keeping his eyes planted on the floor. "Just… please… please don't move."

Just as you wonder if you've made a mistake, you watch as Homelander shifts his body lengthwise across the couch to lie on his back. Slowly, he lowers his head into your lap. You're taken aback by the sheer size and weight of his head, which is so large it's practically overflowing on your thighs. It almost feels like you have a big fat cat lying on you, if not for the incredible anxiety you feel emanating from him. He looks like he's scared out of his mind, completely regretting this decision and just wanting to get up and leave. And yet, at the same time he is still like a statue, waiting for you to make the first move.

Trying to comprehend what he wants, you absent-mindedly start petting Homelander's hair, as if your brain is on auto-pilot and it believes the giant head in your lap really is just a fluffy cat. Lo and behold, you begin to understand what he was asking for as his stress evaporates from your delicate touches, his eyes fluttering shut as he sinks further into your lap. He lets go of a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and further nuzzles himself into your hand.

From your first moment alone with him, you've learned how affected he is from simple touches. How he practically bulldozed you when he tried to lean his full body weight into your hands, like he was chasing after something he had missed his entire life. It was something that bewildered you; you've only ever heard Homelander speak of this perfect childhood and family he had, why would he crave affection so heavily?

When you start running your nails along his undercut, you are surprised to hear Homelander start keening, albeit very inaudibly. He's clearly enjoying your attention, but it's obvious to you he's fighting to stay quiet. Unexpectedly, one particular scratch along his scalp causes him to loudly whimper from the pleasure. He immediately freezes, and stares at you with the widest eyes you've ever seen. 

"I-I'm sorry…" he stutters, tears forming as he attempts to hide his face in your chest. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm s-sorry," he continues to repeat, eyes squeezed shut like he is terrified that he will be punished. Madelyn forbade him to make such pathetic noises on her lap, and she would only allow these 'sessions' when he obeyed her every word. He expects you will be the same.

"Hey, it's okay Homelander," you reassure him, still petting his hair. You hate seeing him so upset, especially when he hasn't done anything wrong. "That just felt good, right?"

Sheepishly, he nods as he turns slightly to peak at you with one timid eye, as if his entire existence is hanging in the balance of your next words.

"You don't have to apologize for enjoying that," you soothe him, using your thumb to wipe away his tears. "I'm happy that you're happy."

Homelander can't believe what he is hearing. Nobody has ever truly cared about his welfare before, and wanted him to just be content. Even Madelyn was only playing with his emotions to use him for her own personal gain. She never really cared, she just wanted to control him. It almost makes him feel stupid, placing Madelyn on such a high pedestal when there was an angel waiting for him this entire time.

He practically purrs as you resume scratching his scalp as you were before, except without this cloud of dread that was hanging over him. The fear Madelyn instilled in him to hide his satisfaction has miraculously dissipated, purely because of you. You, and your enchanted fingers, somehow adept at locating all of the sweet spots that he can't help but mewl at. Homelander nearly becomes overwhelmed by you, gripping at the couch's wooden frame so strongly you swear you can hear it splintering. There is something amazing about having a godlike superhuman giant whimpering in your lap, exclusively from the affection you give him.

Eventually, your fingers start to tire from the force you used in your scratches. As you go back to lightly petting his hair, Homelander opens his eyes to see you looking down at him with such care. The way you smile so sweetly at him is intoxicating, unlike how anyone has ever looked at him before. You are special. He wonders if you even realize that you are so far above the rest of the mudpeople.

Homelander rubs his head lightly into your chest, still keeping his vision focused on you. Compared to how frustrated he appeared when he first sat down, he now looks so serene, totally calmed by your tenderness. As you observe him, you begin to wonder something.

"Say, Homelander…" you start. He gives a light hum, noting that you have his attention. "How did you know I was up here by myself?"

"I could hear your heartbeat," he explains simply, still nudging at your chest. "It's the only one I listen for… It's… it's nice."

You aren't sure how to take that. Nobody has ever complimented you on the sound of your heart before. In a weird way, you are grateful that at least someone at Vought is keeping an eye out for you.

"When you were mad earlier… did you come up here just to see me?" you question, hoping to break through his real intentions of meeting you alone outside of your regular ritual.

Even though Homelander doesn't answer you, the ashamed way he avoids your gaze is enough for you to figure out his response. Somehow, you've become more than a friend to him; you're someone he wants to help him feel better, someone he trusts to take his hurt away. It's so sweet you can't stop yourself from smiling.

"Thank you," you say, caressing his cheek. When Homelander shoots you a confused look, you gently laugh.

"For trusting me, you goof," you grin, leaning down a bit nearer to his speechless face. "I'm happy that you're comfortable with me to talk about stuff that bothers you. I know how hard it can be to feel so alone."

"And if you want me to help you relax like this again," you remark, as you boop his nose with your finger. "I don't mind. I'm just glad to help."

Confounded by your genuine kindness, Homelander can feel himself start to cry again. He wishes he could hug you right now, but his whole body feels like it's been cemented in place, unwilling to move from this blissful position. All he can muster is to bury his face into your warm chest, relishing the comforting sounds of your pulse. Not even Madelyn's lap felt this welcoming, it's like your entire being is perfection.

"You're welcome Homelander," you tell him, bending down a bit further to give his head an awkward hug. "As long as you let me, I'll be there for you."

[underrrated1]

Could I ask Admiral Kizaru for your series? 🙈 Thank you!

Surprisingly polite

I love all the admirals so much, it's crazy and I think I need help ❤️

Photographer! Series

Honestly, it was crazy for Morgan to even accept a job from the Cross Guild. Sure, he was all about publicity and money, it should've been obvious to someone like Y/N, who'd been working under him for years. Yet it surprised them anyway.

"Jeez, how crazy does he have to be" Y/N muttered under their breath while looking at the note in their hand, "Any and every marine we see? He's just trying to get use killed, they're always so dense and rude,"With a sigh they stuffed the note into their jacket pocket. "Most of them anyway."

Morgan had sent out a mass note to every photographer on and off duty. It was simple, yet got a message through.

"Get a photo of any and every Marine you can. The better the photo and higher the rank, the better the pay."

Anyone would be crazy not to take him up on the offer, he really did know how to get people pumped up and excited. His bonuses were really big, and added into a regular pay just made it better. Much to contrary belief, he was a good employer.

The day wasn't anything special, Y/N was simply wondering around an island, admiring the local stalls and making friends. They took the chance to write down anything they thought was interesting, maybe Morgan would take any of it and write it into a story, albeit heavily edited to where it was barely anything like the real story. That's just how he was.

The sound of multiple gasps and loud murmurs from people had caught their attention, pulling their eyes away from the pretty fruit stand infront of them. It was obvious what everyone was looking and pointing at even at first glance, seeing as it was pretty hard to miss an almost 10ft tall man wearing a yellow striped suit with a Marines coat hanging off his shoulders.

This was their chance, maybe, honestly, they were a little scared. Someone almost twice their height with such rumored power, anyone would be. But it was their job, their duty to Morgan and their coworkers. They knew most would scare at the opportunity, even with a huge bonus for it.

Taking a deep breath, they mentally hyped themselves up and took brave steps, but they sort of had to jog to catch up with the Admiral.

"Mr. Borsalino! Um, Admiral!" They called out, waving their hand while jogging after said man.

He pause infront of them, freezing for a second before slowly turning around and setting his eyes on them. He let out a hum and turned his head slightly to the side.

"Oh? What's this?" He chuckled leaning down slightly.

While he wasn't really trying to intimidate anyone, he sure did. His towering physic shadowing over their normal one. Y/N let out a shakey breath before closing their eyes to give themselves a moment to relax. Opening their eyes again they looked Kizaru in the eyes and spoke.

"I am Y/N. I work for Big Top Morgan, and I need your photo." They said with confidence, determination gleaming across their eyes, "Please and thank you."

Kizaru stared at them, the eye contact almost broke their will and made them want to run away but they stood their ground. The eye contact was broken by him, looking up with a quiet "ooh".

"Sure, I don't see a problem with that." He said, looking back down to them and smiling. What a carefree guy.

Y/N was prepared for rejection, as most Marines did, so to hear him say yes shocked them. While Marines lived the publicity, it was only when it was good. Someone from Morgan's team asking for a personal picture usually meant drama and lies, thus leading to most overthinking it and refusing. Sometimes they became aggressive and threatened them.

"Huh?" They mirrored confusion. Before he could ask what was wrong they shook their head and looked at him again. "Will you lean down for me! I can't get a good picture from down here."

It was a reasonable request, and he complied. Slowly he leaned down, bending his knees so he was crouching and was almost the same height as them, still taller by a few inches.

"Thank you!" Y/N smiled, raising the camera wrapped around their neck and adjusting it.

They took a few steps back, leaned from one side to another and snapped a few photos, even getting on their tip toes for a few. Morgan was going to love these. Oh, the praise they'd get from their coworkers and Morgan.

"Thank you very much! I appreciate your time!!" They said, setting the camera down and bowing slightly to show their appreciation and respect.

"Hm, it's no problem," Kizaru said, standing back to full height and rubbing his neck. "I don't usually accept these offers but you peaked my interest. I look forward to seeing them, whatever they'll be used for."

His comment made them flustered, damn then being unable to take compliments well. With a stutter of another 'thank you!', they turned around and walked away as quickly, yet normally, as possible.

Borsalino watched as they disappeared into the crowd with a smile before turning back around and off to the docks where his ship sat. Sure, his underlings would most likely scold him for being late but he didn't care.

[sea-buns]

Headcanon that Pib visits everyone every now and then and mostly just chills.

He does that cat thing where you walk into a room and they're just on a very tall object and you have no idea how they got there. Rosamund walks into her room at the castle and hes sprawled out on the stone of her windowsill that's been perfectly warmed by the sun. None of the guards or servants ever see him enter and her room is at the top of a tower like 3 stories up. She acts like this is absolutely normal any time it gets brought up.

He lies under a tree with Timothy or sits in Henry's lap on the porch as he rocks in a chair. Sometimes he'll follow at Jack's heels during deliveries or just around town. Everytime Jack'll start to veer towards a not-so-great decision, Pib gives him a little nudge in a better direction and some advice.

He'll wander into Gepetto's workshop and just fuck with shit. The man is constantly having to put stuff back on tables, just for it to get knocked down again when his back is turned. He'll play games with Pinocchio as he grows older, offering him help and advice when it's relevant. Just spending time with him in general, whether it's hanging out at Pinocchio's house or getting into whatever shit he's schemed up that week.

He'll join Gerard on adventures and occasionally ask his help for something with the people of his kingdom. When he hears Gerard trying to start a gossip session with Timothy, he gladly chimes in with his own shit-talk about the various people he encounters. This quickly becomes a regular thing for them.

Pib schemes with Ylfa and joins her in her many endeavors to absolutely fuck shit up for adults and people in power. Anyone so much as breathes wrong in her direction and he's popping out of her hood like a second head to give the most seething, feral hiss. Anytime Pib, Ylfa, and the Baba Yaga are together, no one is safe. He'll occasionally join her, Gerard, and Pinocchio for gin rummy. As a rule, any game night at Baba Yaga's hut ends with toppled tables, holes in windows and ceilings, and at least one person sprawled out on the roof and/or front lawn with no memory of how they got there.

[sanjisboyfie]

❔[NAME] WIKI - ALABASTA ARC ENDS

realized i left it out of my a/n last update but, after every major arc in one piece, there will be a "[name] wiki" that will just highlight information that might have been missed/not so obviously stated about [name] as well as bonus infomration on relationships, fun facts, etc!!! anyway, enjoy this little filler update before skypiea <333

link to original fanfic where thsi wiki is based from :D

full name: [REDACTED] D. [NAME]

age: 20, departed from foosha village at 17 — it’s been three years since then

affiliations:

— [REDACTED] Pirates ERROR LOADING

— [REDACTED] ERROR LOADING

— connection with Shanks/Red Hair Pirates in some way

— [REDACTED] Pirates, temporary member, mutual gain

— Straw Hat Pirates

epithet: [REDACTED]

The Cursed Orphan

birthday: [xx/xx] ← this is your own birthday LOL

height: 6’5

there is a reason he is so tall, please trust me he is not insanely tall for no reason. like there are plot reasons as to why he built like a beanstock.

- related: i forgot that his height was lowkey a plot point (a teensy teensy tiny bit) so i forgot to mention his height until very very very very very recently in the chaptesr LMFAOOA

bounty:

— 200,000,000

— 250,000,000

japanese va: junichi suwabe … or … yuki kaji … or more like kenjiro tsuda (i cant decide unfortunately lmk in comments bc i like all of these vas a lot) 

appearance:

— has a giant tattoo expanding over his shoulders/back. they look like wings (minus the figure in the middle). they don’t look like the typical tattooed angel wings going downwards, they more-so stretch across his back and the tips end at his deltoids.

— keeps a black cloth wrapped around one of his wrists, at all times. this cloth was torn from shanks’ cloak and [name] keeps it as a safe keeping

— always is wearing a silver necklace. it’s a simple, thin chain that is almost unnoticeable, but he is never seen without it.

— has scars all over his body. they’re not battle scars. they start from his face and go all the way down to his feet. if you were to see his entire body, you would see that most of the scars are single lines that do NOT disconnect from their starting point. they run almost continuously. for example, the scarred line that starts at his face goes all the way down to his feet, without being “interrupted.” origins are unknown.

weapon: a sword that was passed down from shanks and given to him as a gift. he doesn’t know the proper name of it, but it looks like a regular katana. he has never drawn his sword in the series yet, seeing as he only reveals the blade when he is out to very seriously maim, torture, or kill his enemies. the katana radiates an intimidating aura and anyone around [name] can feel it.

standard outfit: just jeans and a t-shirt, nothing crazy goes on here LMFAO or whatever you wanna envision him to be wearing.

abilities: have not been completely revealed, but it does have something to do with water. this explains his ability to control people’s bodies, seeing as their blood and overall body mass has a high percentage of water.

— he has some control over sea water, but only for short bursts of time.

— he is not completely immune to the effects of sea water, though. if he is submerged in it for a long enough period of time <a couple of minutes>, then he will begin drowning and sinking just like a devil fruit eater would.

— did not eat a devil fruit. the origins of his powers are unknown at this time.

— skilled swordsman, source: trust me bro. but seriously, he doesn’t just swing around the sword, even though we’ve never seen him use it, he’s generally very good with weapons of all kinds — but has a specialty in blades.

— has been seen using geppo, soru, and shigan. 

favorite food: COFFEE BEANS + SEAFOOD :) cheese

fun facts:

likes: all the strawhats, animals, bitter flavors

dislikes: the world gov + navy, anyone that isn't a strawhat, anything sweet flavored

— the name the government gave him was due to how they could not find any family lineage tied to him

— considers dadan and makino as his mother figures!

— the song he is always humming is for fruits basket <333

— its not that he only drinks coffee and not anything else — like booze, its just he doesnt like the taste of booze. he can drink it, but he wont like it.

— if he were to live in the real world, he would have a job in child protective services. he cares a lot for children. plus he feels the natural instinct to be protective of those around him.

— he can tell if there is anybody nearby due to how he is able to see water concentration to a certain extent. that is why whenever he squints in the distance or at the water, he is looking for something to pop out and is expecting to see someone/something.

— is really offstandish when it comes to strangers. it takes a lot to get trust out of him, but if it’s someone that luffy or the others trust, then he’s quick to lower his guard.

— finds it really amusing whenever chopper, nami, or usopp run to hide behind him when they see any enemies. he doesn’t mind it, but still thinks its really funny whenever it happens.

— he enjoys pissing off zoro, but never brings up their past fight. to him, it was a silly thing that happened in the past so he doesn’t hold it over zoro’s head, plus he saw how much it affected the swordsman.

— hates manspreaders → has a chronic, worst case of manspreading anyone has ever seen

— has the highest debt to nami in the entire crew (somewhere in the 300-400,000)

— the tattoo over ace’s heart are words that he and ace shared with each other (��together in chaos”) when they were children (LOOOREEEE)

— wants to start working out with zoro, but due to their recent adventures hasn’t had the chance to :(

— unlike luffy, he has no qualms in killing his enemies. he wishes he were like luffy in this sense, but he is paranoid that these people will come back for him, or worse — the crew, so he eliminates them when he can.

— [name] really, really wanted vivi to come along. but he didn't verbalize it so as to not pressure her or manipulate the decision of what she herself wanted.

— whenever he wakes up from sleep, he’s in one of three odd positions: 1. luffy and him somehow end up cuddling, 2. he’s on the floor, or 3. he’s (not maliciously aka they're not actually dying.) choking either zoro or sanji with his arm.

— feels particularly protective of nami — not because she is a woman, but because he saw how sick she had gotten and was scared she would die. addtionally, he trusts her and her ability to fight, but if she requests for his help in a battle, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and help her.

— if him and sanji can't sleep at night, they go out on the deck and smoke together until one of them gets tired and they go back to bed.

— rather prideful in being strong. at the same time, he doesn’t really enjoy the nature of his abilities

— [name] had a bad history with the people on whiskey peak, which explains his hostility to them in the beginning chapters (they fooled him by giving him a lot of food, then they tried attacking him while he was sleeping, and he had to fight them.) doesn't like being lied to.

— vivi wishes she could have knighted [name] into holding a formal title as a guardian in the kingdom of alabasta, but igaram rejected the idea. her father and pell were close to agreeing, but ultimately decided that they couldn't and shouldn't seeing as [name] was too infamous for being a lethal pirate. vivi sulked about this for a while.

love language : acts of service and physical touch

— the more comfortable he is with someone, the more likely he is to crack jokes around them. it means hes relaxed and can feel comfortable being himself rather than being on edge and guarded.

— vivi often times hums the song that [name] always hummed, smiling whenever she remembers the amount of memories she had made with the crew. that song has now become her favorite despite her not knowing where it was from or if there were even words that went along with it.

— animal representation: crow

— who would he be if the strawhats were a family? the one younger cousin that keeps running around shouting about how he wants to fight/do something that requires a lot of energy from everyone else (or, cool uncle)

— he actually naturally has a very sweet scent, but since he is always brewing coffee/eating coffee beans, he masks that scent with coffee since he hates it :)

personality type : ENFP

→ characters that are ENFP: jinx (arcane/league of legends), hu tao (genshin impact), harley quinn (dc universe), and ellie (the last of us)

how would [name] describe his relationships:

with luffy: captain, dearest person in his life, partner in crime in annoying the rest of the crew, personal backpack since luffy is always climbing him

with zoro: most reliable crewmate, best first mate to luffy, good friendly competitor 1/2 strongest swordsman in the world

with nami: smartest crewmate!! admires her navigation abilities, enjoys her company when she isn't yelling bloody murder at him </3 1/3 of his priority people to protect

with usopp: fun to tease and joke around with, enjoys the way usopp lies even though he hates liars, 2/3 of his priority people to protect

with sanji: the best chef in the world, genuinely a very kind man, sees eye to eye with him more often than not, thinks his rude persona is just a front LOL good friendly competitor 2/2

with chopper: cutest mascot, thinks he is genuinely very strong, admires his mental strength and his story, 3/3 of his priority people to protect

with vivi: worrisome princess, braver than she gives herself credit for, very close friend he hopes to reunite with in the future! a crewmate in his mind even if she is not sailing with them

with ace: idiot, but also a very cute idiot <3 freckles, sees a lot of their childhood in ace’s eyes which makes him slightly emotional, reckless, misses him a lot right now

EXTRA BONUS:

playlist !

his theme songs are: chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey, i know ? by travis scott, here comes your man by the pixies ← will add more songs in each wiki !!!

— cotcc : “it’s beautiful, how this deep normality settles down over me. i’m not bored or unhappy, i’m still so strange and wild. you’re in the wind, i’m in the water. nobody’s son, nobody’s daughte,”

— i know ?: “tell me, is you still up. it’s 5 a.m. and i’m drunk right now. tell me, can we still fuck. // i know, mami, i know, it’s 2 a.m., don’t stress. at 3, that bullshit kick in, in thirty, you’ll feel your best”

— here comes your man, “take me away to nowhere plains. there is a wait so long (so long, so long). you'll never wait so long. here comes your man, here comes your man, here comes your man, here comes your man”

luffy & [name]: video games, “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you. everything i do — i tell you all the time. heaven is a place on earth with you. // it’s better than i ever even knew. they say that the world was built for two. only worth living if somebody is loving you.”

zoro & [name]: married with children, “i hate the way that you are so sarcastic and you’re not very bright. you think that everything you’ve done’s fantastic. your music’s shit, it keeps me up all night, up all night // and it will be nice to be alone, for a week or two. but i knew then i will be right, right back here with you, with you, with you, with you, with you, with you”

sanji & [name]: right side of my neck, “the right side of my neck still smells like you. the right side of my neck still smells like you”

nami & [name]: LOYALTY, “tell me when your loyalty is comin’ from the heart. tell me who you loyal to. do it start with your women or your man? do it end with your family and friends? or you’re loyal to yourself in advance?”

usopp & [name]: my way, “for what is a man, what has he got? if not himself, then he has naught. to say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels. the record shows i took the blows. and did it my way”

vivi & [name]: happiness is a butterfly, “if he’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst thing that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt? i’m already hurt. if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed. looking into his eyes, i think he’s already hurt. he’s already hurt.”

chopper & [name]: live and let die, “when you were young and your heart was an open book, you used to say live and let live. but if this ever changing world in which we’re living, makes you give in and cry — say live and let die”

ace & [name]: my love mine all mine, “nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love, mine, all mine, all mine. // nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love mine, all mine, all mine”

taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 :

@skullr0se , @strawberrii-tea, @triangulartriangles, @anotherlovefool, @haratatsu, @sinmp, @3v37773, @taru-nami, @disc0dild0s, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @kaulitzer, @notplutos, @cheetosins

[ .ᐟ ] PSA ! DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT READ THIS  (older version of this) STORY ON WATTPAD I REPEATTTTT DO NOTTT BECAUSE ! MY OLD VERSION OF THIS STORY IS STILL PUBLISHED bc i dont rlly want to take it down tbh bc a lot of ppl still read it AND IT IS SPOILLLERRRSS FOR WHAT I PLAN ON DOING WITH THIS STORY !!! because this is re-written and a much much much much much improved version of that oldddd story + it is still following that original plot line i had all those years ago just like 10000x better bc idk what drugs i was on when i was writing that ff all those years ago bc that shit is crazy LMFOAOAOA i beg, i BEG, of you to not read it i want this experience to be so fun with all the plotwists and motives of characters like pleaseeee do not read it (also ??? its jus so cringe worthy jus dont read it LFMAO)