#how fi goes broke

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x babysitter!f!Reader

Summary: Your dad's friend needs your babysitting services for the night. What will you do to help him out when his date goes in the wrong direction?

Warnings: MDNI, babysitter!Reader, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Vaginal Sex, Squirting, Degrading, Praising, Slight Dumbification, Creampie, Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji in 30s), Reader's Parents and Toji are friends, Cute baby Megumi is adorable

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Mr. Fushiguro.” Your brows furrow at the name of the man who solicited your babysitting services. You started off babysitting for your parents’ neighbors and they spread the word around, and as a broke college student who refuses to get a real job, you appreciate every time someone calls that they need someone to watch their kids for the night. You usually don’t know the person who calls, they believe you’re amazing simply by what your parents’ neighbors said, but this time the name looks familiar. You repeat the name a couple of times, yet a face isn’t coming up.

You knock on the door, and patiently wait. You have no problem waiting for almost five minutes because you keep trying to put a face to the name. Until Mr. Fushiguro finally opens the door, and you’re met with his bare chest which causes your face to get warm. You look up at the man, and it immediately hits you, you weren’t recommended by your neighbors, the man that stands in front of you is a friend of your parents. Toji Fushiguro. You smile at him, trying your best to not look back down at his well toned torso.

“You’re here early.” Toji comments, and you grab your phone from your purse to look at the time. You’re not early, on the contrary, you’re five minutes late. You end up not saying anything because you’re obviously not going to point out that you’re late to your gig.

“It’s so nice to see you.” Your voice sounds awkward as you speak. You’ve maybe met Toji a handful of times before. He became acquainted with your parents after you left for college so you don’t really know him. You’ve seen him a couple of holidays since apparently he doesn’t have a big family so he takes up your parents offer of coming over for the holidays. Your conversations with him have always been… dry, therefore you don’t have much of a bond. You have no idea how to greet him.

He leans on the doorframe, and you try to look into his eyes but it’s hard when he’s shirtless in front of you. You wait for him to move out of the way to enter the house, but he’s staring you down. He frowns, his eyes glued to your bare legs and he asks, “Is that appropriate attire for babysitting?”

“What?” You look down at your skirt and then at your legs. You end up rolling your eyes, biting your tongue to not say anything that you might regret. You look down at his chest and the sweatpants that hang dangerously low before you tilt your head to the side. There’s a smirk on your face when you look back up at him, “Is that appropriate attire to greet your babysitter?”

He snickers before getting out of the way and inviting you into the home. You take off your shoes and look around the place. You find his son running after a dog, and you try not to laugh as you watch Megumi aimlessly run after a dog that’s way faster than he is. You almost trip on a toy since you’re not really watching where you’re going, and the man that notices chuckles. He guides you to the living room and when you’re no longer moving, he finds himself completely clueless on what to say.

You’re staring at him, waiting for him to speak first. But he doesn’t so you take it upon yourself. “So… Where are you going?”

“I have a date and what not. I got the number from your dad since I told him I needed a babysitter.” He says, and you slowly nod in response. You didn’t need that second part, but it’s nice to know that he asked your father and he didn’t randomly get your number. “I have to get ready for my date.”

“Yeah… Before you go though, do you have–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I have a list with Megumi’s schedule. He’s not allergic to anything but he is picky. Just make some mac ‘n’ cheese. You’ll be good.” Toji tells you and it’s as if he’s read your mind. You mutter a thank you before he yells, “Megumi, come here! Say hi to your babysitter.”

The four-year-old comes running your way, and he pants when he’s right in front of you. He’s sweaty after chasing the dog. He recognizes you and he greets you by using your name. 

“So nice to see you again, Megumi.” 

Toji leaves you two to interact while he finishes getting ready.

Megumi has to be the cutest child that you’ve ever babysat. He’s shy at first but when he warms up to you he becomes clingy. You find yourself playing a match of Uno, a card game that he doesn’t quite grasp the concept of. But he’s trying his best. Although you’ve explained the point that the game is to get rid of your cards, he keeps grabbing cards when he can put so many that are in his hands, down. 

“Am I winning?” He asks, even though he’s far from it. You end up nodding in response, watching as a yawn escapes his little lips. You grab your phone to look at the time, and see it’s almost his bedtime. You ruffle his hair before telling him,

“You won, buddy. It’s time for you to go to bed now.” You watch him put down the fifteen cards in his hands, and get up from the couch. You walk him to his bedroom, pick out some pajamas for him, and he proceeds to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

You put him to bed with no problem, and now your only task is waiting for Toji to get home. You turn on the television and try to find something to watch, and when you find something interesting enough to watch, you lay down on your side on the couch and focus on the screen in front of you. You assume you’ll be here for a while, so you get comfortable. You lose track of time and don’t pay attention to anything but the screen in front of you, which is why your heart is in your throat when you feel a pair of large hands lift up your legs.

Luckily for you, it’s just Toji, lifting your legs and putting them over his lap when he takes a seat. He throws his head back, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. You get your legs off his lap and properly sit down on the couch, feeling your face warm as you look at the man. He looks tired to say the least, and while you don’t usually ask this question, you feel inclined to ask, “How was your date?”

“I could not stand her voice, and for the life of me she has to be the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.” He puts his hands over his face, and he exhales. This is truly one of the worst dates he’s ever been on. Just when he puts himself out there again he meets the most irritating woman. “She wasn’t even that hot either. When she opened her mouth, all attraction went out the door.”

“She couldn’t have been that bad.” You respond with a low chuckle. You laugh even more when he rolls his eyes.

“I’m never going out on a date again.” He replies. Toji isn’t afraid of oversharing, at least not when it’s only the two of you there. He doesn’t know you all that well either but he still says, “Worst of all, I didn’t get laid.”

“I mean, you could’ve still fucked her. Just block out her voice.” You tell him, and his brows raise. He chuckles before he reveals to you,

“Yeah, she wouldn’t have wanted to. I couldn’t control the look of disdain on my face.” Which makes you laugh. You bite down your lip looking him up and down. He looks handsome.

“If I were her–” You feel bold but your confidence goes away in an instant, just as you open your mouth. There’s a smirk on his face, and he leans your way. He licks his lips, and you sense that you’ve made a mistake.

“If you were her then?” He invites you to continue your sentence, but you shake your head. You try to play it off with a sweet smile, but that’s not enough for Toji. He’s about to say something obscene, but he bites his tongue. He ends up chuckling before he confesses, “Oh, your dad would kill me for what I was about to say.”

“Oh? What were you going to say?” Your curiosity rises and you aren’t going to back down now. You’re the one that leans in now, and your faces are mere inches away from touching. He has a cocky look all over his face, and you hate to admit that you love seeing it. “My dad isn’t here. You can tell anything you want to his adult daughter.”

“You’re still a little girl in his eyes, he would kill me.” He comments while you grab his hand and you put it on your bare thigh. Your other hand goes up his chest and lands behind his shoulder, creeping toward his nape. You make sure to lower your voice.

“You’re not him nor is he here. You can tell me just about anything.” He moves his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You feel his fingers hook under your panties and he finally says,

“How about I just show you.” His lips land on yours, and your mouth opens to let his tongue in. You feel his finger toy with your panties, while your hand goes to his lap. His tongue presses against yours while his fingers begin to play with your clothed cunt. You weren’t expecting that your night babysitting would end up like this– Or maybe you did since you were greeted by a shirtless Toji. Either way, you don’t mind it.

He pushes your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds before they begin to toy with your clit. Your hand begins to palm his erection that feels so uncomfortable in his pants. When he gets his fingers wet enough with your slick, he pushes two inside your warm cunt which causes you to moan into the kiss. 

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” You breathlessly comment when you pull away from the kiss, a sudden wave of consciousness hitting you. But it’s not stopping either of you because it feels so good. You rebuke your statement by kissing him again. Your hands unbuckle his belt and get his cock out. Your eyes glance at it, and they widen at the sight of how big it is. That has to be the biggest cock you’ve seen. 

You pull away from the kiss and spit on his cock a couple of times before your hand wraps around it and you begin to stroke it. You feel as his thumb begins to play with your clit, and you use your other hand to cover your mouth. Toji can’t help but say, “You’re loving this… Oh you’re such a little slut.”

You end up humming in response as he curls his fingers. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, feeling so good while he moves his thick fingers in and out of you. He’s right, you are a fucking slut because you’ve been thinking about a similar scenario the moment you saw him shirtless.

“You came wearing a skirt so I could do this, didn’t you?” He asks, and you’re tightening around his fingers as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. Your hand lazily strokes his cock, and you’re doing such an awful job which almost annoys Toji but he knows you have much bigger things on your plate– Rather, inside of it. You’re shutting your legs, and he forces you to spread them. “Don’t act shy now.”

“It’s so good.” You remove your hand from your mouth to tell him that.

“I know, baby.” He responds, and just as you’re about to come, he takes his fingers out. A whine leaves your lips. “C’here.”

You move your legs up, hovering above him on the couch, your back to him. He licks his hand before he grabs his cock and runs it through your folds. He slowly pushes his cock in, and it feels even bigger while inside you. You have to slap your hand over your mouth while he bottoms out.

“You got a tight little cunt–” He groans, his voice low, mindful that you aren’t home alone. Toji has never been more glad that a date didn’t work out because otherwise he wouldn’t be fucking the cute little babysitter. You feel so nice and warm around him… This is truly the best way to end his night– Only problem is that he can’t tell a single soul about this. “Fuck…”

You begin to bounce on him, moving slowly. Toji’s hand goes under your shirt and bra, his fingers pinching your nipple. His other hand begins to play with your clit, and it’s all so much for you to handle. Toji’s lips kiss your neck before they go to your ear and he whispers, “You like that, baby? You like my dick?”

You really can’t say anything but moan. You feel the orgasm that was stripped from you, build up once again. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and he asks, “Aren’t you gonna answer? Or are you too dumb to answer?”

He takes control for you, thrusting in and out of you at a much faster pace than the one that you have set. His cock hits every right spot, and it’s too much for your poor little pussy to handle. Your hand goes over your mouth again because you’re getting louder and louder with every thrust. “You like it, pretty girl?”

“You’re such a dumb girl, can’t even answer a simple question.” Your cunt is tightening around him, getting so close to your climax. When you finally come, and you make the biggest mess by squirting all over him and the living room. It causes Toji to grin, his hand slapping your cunt while saying, “You’re so fucking messy. You’re such a good girl.”

Toji’s thrusts keep picking up speed as his peak approaches. Your pussy feels so nice and tight around him, and he’s so fucking glad that he didn’t just toss you the money and dismiss you. He just wishes that instead of going to that dumb date he would’ve stayed with you and fucked you over and over again. 

“Good girls like you need some sort of reward.” He begins, and the words don’t register in your mind. He was thinking of pulling out at the beginning of this, but he can’t let you leave without coming inside of you. “You want my cum, pretty girl?”

“Please!” You almost yell. It doesn’t take too long for his warm cum to fill you up, and you love the feeling of it. He leaves you on top while his cock softens, and he peppers your neck with kisses. After a while he speaks up.

“You can’t tell a single soul about this.” He reminds you, and you laugh.

“I should be the one telling you that. I’d never hear the end of it.” You respond.

“I also need your services next week.” He brings up, and your brows raise, turning to look at him.

“Another date?”

“Not the babysitting service.”

[alatismeni-theitsa]

"Women only started working very recently so a woman's place is the house-" shut up and feast your eyes at old photos of women from around the world doing physical labor only for them to return home and solely care for 5-10 children and the elderly parents of their husband.

Greek women represent:

These photos show Greek women doing the type of physical labor they would perform more often than not. At the luckiest working conditions for rural women (aka most of the country) they would start working the fields as children and when they got older they would work the same fields with their own babies on their backs.

On the way home from the fields, sometimes the women would carry the wood and the mule would carry the man so he could rest.

Of course, we can talk about the manual labor that is rubbing cloth and metal for hours on end, chopping and carrying wood to light a fire for a large cauldron your size, and stirring it for hours.

But we can also talk about how it wasn't for them to break and carry rocks in baskets for the making of new roads. They would gather salt, olives, and grapes and carry them on large baskets filled to the brim. For salt they carried thirty kilos each trip, doing fifty trips each, stepping shoeless on the grains of salt.

Carrying water was also their job, often moving large barrels with all the water a house of 10 needed upon hills that horses and mules had trouble ascending.

(more photos for salt mining and carrying here)

It's no hyperbole to say these women carried their incomes and households on their backs. "The good she-housekeeper is a slave and a lady" the old Greek saying goes. A "good woman" was a woman who could be strong and work at home and in the field, often described with the qualities of a mule. Men took their wives out in the fields so much that some who were a bit more educated had to make their husbands sign that they wouldn't ask them to work alongside them in the fields! (source in Greek)

Some of these photos are also from 1970. I'm missing a photo from Leukada showing women carrying baskets of the stones they broke, and I'll add it here when I find it.

Basically, women were out of the house forever. A woman who got to stay home and never perform any labor had some type of privilege (wealth, status etc). Same as the many privileged men around the world who didn't perform any labor at all.

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[doki-doki-imagines]

hiii, could you please do mk1 earthrealmers reaction to them trying to put music during spicy time but their s/o keeps getting distracted the whole time by singing/dancing along to every song that they choose, i just thought it could be a funny situation 😅😅

author note: I had to change the prompt a bit because it would have been a bit repetitive. If it's a problem feel free to request again. If you like what I write consider tipping on my new ko-fi!

Johnny Cage: -He prepared a romantic night to the best of his capabilities. Red petals on your bed, dim candlelights to illuminate the room, and a soft and sexy song playing in the background. -But something went wrong when all of sudden, between groans and heavy breaths "Poker face" started to play. -It doesn't stop Johnny from kissing down your neck, lips never leaving your skin. Your head isn't on the same wavelength tho. -You start to hum the song, but Johnny notices just when his lips caress your chest, feeling the vibrations underneath. -"Are you…singing along?" "Maybe? C'mon Johnny, it's impossible not to!" -He smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and shakes his head before pulling you into his covered lap. Deft fingers working to free himself. -"Are you still in?" "Mh? Yes." You nod, your soft hands on his cheeks. "Perfect sweetheart. Keep singing to your heart's content, let's see how long it will take me to make you reach the highest notes."

Kenshi Takahashi:

-It was your idea to put music on, to try something new.

-Soon you forget about it, Kenshi reducing you to a puddle under his expert hands.

-You are so out of your mind that you don’t notice the songs going from slow and sexy to rhythmic and perfect for dancing.

-But then you notice something is off. His fingers, now in you move…strangely? Kenshi has always been a tease, but trying to avoid your sweet spot for so long it’s becoming tears-inducing, and not the pleasure kind.

-So you start to focus your attention on the movements of his fingers when finally realization hits you.

”Are you trying to keep the rhythm of the song, Kenshi?”

He looks at you, black eyes now full of shame, lips sucked in before nodding.

-He stops moving and a chuckle leaves your lips. You take the back of his head to bring him closer and kiss him.

“Nice sense of the rhythm. Next time I’ll make sure to choose the right songs.”

“I’ll help you with that.”

Kung Lao:

-It’s not the first time you put music on; the walls of his house are pretty thin.

-But usually, you use Lao’s playlist since he can be pretty picky with music.

-But this time he asked to listen to one of yours, curious to discover new songs.

-It’s all going like usual, ‘till you hear Lao humming. Your favorite song is also playing.

“So…you like this song too?”

“Damn, it’s so catchy!”

-You end up karaoke just in your undergarments with Lao.

-Don’t worry, you’ll get back to lovemaking later. After all, everything is more enjoyable if done with a smile.

Raiden:

-You were the one that asked him if you could try to listen to music while doing “it” and Raiden accepted with no problem.

-You made a new playlist trying to add songs Raiden could enjoy.

-Everything goes smoothly, you sit on his lap your tongue dancing with his, while Raiden’s hands travel down your body, caressing and groping.

-Until a song starts, and his movements stop. He is still kissing you, so you don’t notice something is wrong.

-“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Raiden pulls you off, annoyance dripping from his face.

“Mh? What is wrong, Rai?”

-“The song that is playing now…we used to sing it with Lao and Fujin when we were kids. It really broke my mood remembering their faces.” He groans out. The face of his best friend the last thing he'd like to remember in these kind of moments.

“You sang such a sexual song when you were kids?”

“You also sang sexual stuff without knowing the real meaning behind the words, right?”

You tilt your head before answering “Well, you have a point.”

-You don’t do any stuff that day, but you decided that it will be Raiden to make the playlist next time.

Liu Kang:

-You know he likes listening to music in his free time, so you think he may enjoy your proposal.

-And he does! Nodding at you with a big smile, a joy that reaches his eyes.

-Mostly because he thinks too that it could be really hot.

-Everything is going as planned, his hot mouth biting your throat while his hands travel from your hips to your back. Until a song starts to play and a sigh, not one born from pleasure, leaves his lips.

-Liu Kang has to sit on the bed. Now sobbing uncontrollably. That song is the one he used to sing with his Kung Lao when they were just kids. When Lao and Raiden became his family.

-You have never seen Liu crying so you worry immediately, asking him what happened, your soft arms hugging his back, trying to calm him down.

-There will be a lot to unpack…

Geras:

-He doesn’t know mortal traditions so he doesn’t mind if you put music.

-And he also doesn’t mind when you start to sing and dance around! But you’ll have to explain to him it’s not some kind of dance to attract the potential partner.

-“Unless…”

“What?”

“Do you find me hot while dancing? Even when I sing so terribly?” You whisper out, your arms around his neck, heads a few inches apart.

“I always find you hot.”

-There is a moment of silence where you’ll look straight into his eyes.

“Come here.”

-Music is soon forgotten in the background.

Bi-Han:

-He is playing his transverse flute when you approach him.

-You reached the level of comfort where Bi-Han feels at ease playing in front of you, and you love it; he really has talent.

-But you decide to spice things up this time.

-You approach him, sliding kisses down his neck while he is still playing the flute, deft fingers opening his uniform, now dropping to the ground.

-“What do you think you’re doing?” He stops, voice rough, but with no bite.

“Just having fun. Keep playing, Grandmaster.” You wink at him, not moving until he starts playing the instrument again.

-And he does, never missing a note even with your warm mouth reaching more arousing parts of his physique. It’s when you drop to your knees that he stops again, his hand now in your hair, pushing you away from his crotch.

-“Now listen to me-“

You tsk, brushing his hand away, confidence dripping from your eyes.

“A snake obeys his charmer only when he plays his flute. Keep doing that Bi-Han.”

-He gulps down loudly. You know that a harsh comeback just died in his throat. He nods at you, his lips back on the instrument.

-Maybe you were the real charmer this time.

Kuai Liang:

-He has to admit that he gets annoyed by your change of mood.

-Liang loves to hear your sounds, so putting music in the background isn’t really his thing but he also thought “Why not try?” It’s not like it was a big no-no for him.

-But now it is. For Liang intimacy is a serious moment and even if he may sneak some jokes once in a while he prefers to keep a more serious atmosphere.

-He gets grumpy so it will take a lot of effort to put a smile on his face. For sure lovemaking is delayed.

-With enough convincing Liang may dance along with you, but don’t force him to sing or he will go back to grumpy.

Tomas Vrbada:

-He smiles when he notices you humming the song, but soon follows you.

-Tomas won’t dance with you, preferring to look at you from his comfortable position on the bed.

-But he will sing! His singing voice is terrible but it’s the feeling that matters.

-At some point, Tomas will get closer to sneak kisses here and there.

-After all, you are dancing just in undergarments; it’s a wonderful sight that makes his blood run awfully quick away from his brain.

-Lovemaking is not delayed, he will pull you toward the bed with him. Just the mood changed, a lot of smiles and playful kisses shared.

[yurinaa-world]

hello! can u do reader who likes to rest on characters lap? like whenever reader couldn't sleep but feel tired, they goes to character's lap while they're doing smth and reader sleeps :3 any characters but i prefer jing yuan n blade pls :D (its okay if u don't want to write this, i don't wanna pressure u haha and sorry for my bad english :'d i love ur works btw!!)

Characters: Blade and Jing Yuan x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: laying in their lap while they're doing things

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

Notes: IM SO SORRY I messed this up so hard, I wrote then I looked at the request, and I mentally slapped myself, If you didn't like this I would be fine rewriting it!

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

This guy literally doesn’t do anything all day, just has his eyes closed and just rests (Warning: I love making reader a very little dramatic when it comes to Blade)

Dead silence; he did not say anything to you once you lay on his lap with a smile on your lips. You couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. He’s always been quiet, but right now, you're starting to feel the silence stabbing you from every angle.

"What aren't you going to say?" you asked, opening one of your eyes to stare at him from below. "Want attention that badly?" He gave you an amused look, looking down on you as if you were some kind of little child. "Well, there's no fun if I just lay here," you pouted, looking at the ceiling as well as at him, his fingers going through your hair. He's figured out what you want from him—attention, of course—yet he just does what you want him to do, or you'll complain about it all day.

So instead, he stays silent and plays with your hair, but his hand moves to your face, creasing your lips with his calloused fingers. "You're such a pain," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you and then moving away before saying, "Yes, yes, you kiss someone you find annoying." You rolled your eyes, closed your eyes again, and sighed loudly.

"I know, bladie, you can't keep yours off; no man can!" You laugh, obviously joking.

What a personality you have.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

“How needy, hmm? What a pleasure it was to spend time with you. a pity I have work to do." Jing Yuan teased while you lay in his lap, watching him from above: reading his boring yet important paper, “You offered and I took it; you know it’s unkind to decline someone." You responded by tracing shapes on the thigh you’re lying on.

"If you don’t want me, then I'll" you cut off before you could even finish your sentence. “No need; you’ve already come, so you're going to stay like this." He said before turning the page of his paper, "I was just joking." He said while ruffling through your hair, making you frown a little, that he messed with your hair.

You both lay in silence. You broke first, asking, “When do you think your paperwork is going to be finished?" He chuckled at your comment.

"A couple of hours, it seems."

“Hurry it up, and I’ll give you a gift."

You stated matter of factly crossing your arms in front of your chest, “What kind of gift?” He asked curiously, looking down at you, and you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a surprise. Do it and find out,” he chuckled at your words.

"Alright, I'll take your word, but this better be a good gift since I'm working so hard for you, hmm, don’t you think?"

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[pink-sparkly-witch]

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

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Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea. 

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties. 

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha. 

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut. 

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food. 

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

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[roughcas]

Dottore x fem!reader smut.

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, thigh stuff, teasing, very verbal (dirty talk is hot!!) asphroic, not proof read, photos taken, idk.

Footsteps echoed the room. A few years ago, you never expected this to be your life. A doctors pet. A fatui's pet. Honestly, it's not that bad. It was either this, or get killed. You're fed multiple times a day with many options, and the doctor is sweet on you so there's not much to complain about. Well, sweet in his own ways. He'll never give you something that'll hurt you - that he knows of. A sigh escapes his lips as he removes his mask, eyes scanning the room. Once the piercing red eyes hits you, "Come here." he says while taking a seat at his desk.

So that's what you did without hesitation. Years of fear, respect, and not wanting to complicate things does that to a person. You scrambled up onto his lap, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, his cold hands making you shiver. He placed his head on top of yours, pressing your body against his as he spoke. "I need you to do something for me. No, really, don't worry. It's just a favor." You knew what this meant. You were now the ongoing experiment. "What is it, doctor?"

One of his hands left your waist and went to the pocket of his lab coat. He took something out and held it to your face, looking closely at your reaction. It was a pill, coloured pink with the symbol of the Fatui on it. "Say ah?" Fear bubbled inside of you, you never had seen a pill this color from them. Impatience bubbled inside him,"Just take it, come on. I know you trust me, right? After all, it's me. I wouldn't hurt you." You wanted to run. This wasn't a good idea, but what other choices were there? At least every time he uses you nothing goes wrong and it brings fun to your day. You open your mouth, staring at him as he places the pill in your mouth. Almost instantly you feel it, this weird bubble inside of you. You're unsure of what it's doing just yet.

"Just be patient..." He gave you a small pat on the head, seeming strangely affectionate. "It should start kicking in soon. I don't want to rush the process, y'know? Just want to see how you react to it." "Are you going to tell me what it's supposed to do?" "Of course! But we need to wait and see the effects first. After all, we can't predict how you'll react. It's all part of the experiment and observation." He gave you another pat on the head, his hands coming up to cup your face.

"Stay close to me, okay? Just stay close to me." Almost without hesitation the words slip your mind. "I don't want to leave you." once processing what you said, a shriek escaped. Dottore froze, his hold over you still tight yet suddenly rigid. A faint smile appeared on his lips, slowly growing bigger and bigger. "Now that's interesting..." "I didn't mean to say tha-" "Oh, but I know you did..." His grip tightened once again, not letting you move. "You don't have to hide your feelings from me... You're my little experiment after all." There it was. The words that broke the dam. "I need you so bad," you lost control of everything you wanted to say. The deep down true desire for him was slipping out.

"There we go.." His hand moved to your cheek, stroking your face gently. "That's the real you... That's the real you..." He lifted your chin up, looking into your eyes. "You want me so badly right now, don't you?" Afraid of words, all you could do was nod. A hum escaped him in response, "Say it then. Say you want me." "Please, Dottore! God, I need you." "That's a good girl." He gripped you tightly, his hands moving down to your thighs. "A very good girl."

Still on his lap, your legs party slightly and of course he notices. He moves his hand to start gently rubbing your thigh, a few moans and pants escaped your mouth as he watched you with hunger. When his hand moved up higher underneath your skirt and began rubbing circles all you could do was whine out his name. "Yes? You want something?" His voice was firm, yet his eyes held an almost seductive look to it. "I can feel your heartbeat... It's starting to quicken." "Please, doctor. You know what I want..." "Do I now?" He paused for a moment before he smirked. "Say it out loud. Let's hear it." "Please, fucking touch me."

"Hm... You want my touch?" He chuckled, his hands moving back down to your thighs and gripping your waist tight. "Are you sure you want that? I can be rough, you know?" a thick tension was in the room, he knows you want it still. "Or does it not bother you?" you shake your head no. "The way I can cut you... make you bleed, take away your breath - all for an experiment, and it doesn't scare you?" another nod left your mouth. Tsk. "You really want me to?" One of his hands moved to your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking at him. "To run tests on you, on your body... Use it as my little plaything?" "Yes," "Say out loud that your body is mine." "All yours, Dottore." "Atta girl." Next thing you know you were flipped around as he grabbed you and manhandled you to the lab bed. "More comfy, eh?"

He paid attention to the fact you were dripping. Gloved fingers ran through your slickness, before he popped one in his finger staring directly into your eyes. With a groan he spoke "My, it makes you taste sweeter." A finger slides in, causing you to whine and moan instantly. "Needy off of one finger? So soon?" A few more minutes go by as he slips in another, and then one more. Three fingers inside you had you all fucked up for him, just the way he likes it. You were so close, so so close - and just like that he stopped. "W-what? n-no, go back!" A low tsk left him, as he picked up the clip board to document your reactions. "Please-" he cuts you off quickly, "Shh. Quiet." not wanting to make your situation worse you obliged.

"Thats it.." he coos, before a few long moments go by; your high complety gone. "'Tore, how much longer?" "Hm, I suppose we can make you cum, huh baby?" his fingers slide back between before going even rougher, you felt like you were getting split in half. A few more pumps and you were already cumming from his thick fingers. Drool was falling out of the side of your mouth, it felt too good. That's when you heard it. A shutter of a camera. You open your eyes to see a small device in his hands and the flash. Walking around you as if he was the earth circling the sun. Click. Click. Click. Photos upon photos were being taken of you in this comprising position. As the polarid like images slid down, you watched in horror. He bent down and picked them up before walking over to the clipboard and taping several photos on it. "No need to worry." He says nonchalantly. "For research purposes." He then walked out of the room, leaving you there. By the way he was holding the clipboard there was a photo of your messy cunt covered in your cum on the front.

[mrandmrssnowbaird]

Reader breaking up with sub!coryo, and him trying to convince reader to stay. Him crying and begging her to stay

very submissive kept-boy coryo, but you're a soft dom and you just wanna take care of him forever when you realize how badly he needs you. dacryphilia, begging - it'll get sexier in part 2 keep your pants on people XD

Coriolanus has been a great boyfriend. What he doesn't have in the ability to spoil you monetarily, he makes up for in emotional gestures - holding your hand, brushing your hair away when you've just applied lipgloss and the wind blew a few strands to stick to your lips - things like that. The blonde tells you his secrets - that it's all a front, the Snows are flat broke and most nights he goes to bed hungry and goes to school the same only to be satisfied by school lunches. This only endears him to you, and you start to take care of him in little ways - inviting him to dinner and sending him home with extras, taking him out to breakfast on weekends. You bring cash, and you slip it to him to allow him to pay - pretend to the public that he is the one treating you. Each time, his eyes shine with adoration for you. You take care of him, really and truly, and you suspect he needs that. The depth of his need becomes evident when you try to end things. He hasn't done anything - but you're restless, and it feels like something is missing. Like he's still holding back, somehow. You invite him over to your place - you never go to his, even if you know his secret - and when Coriolanus sits on your bed, you break the news to him. He's heartbroken. You watch it happen, the realization, the moment of understanding. His brow furrows and he shakes his head of blonde curls. "What did I do...?" He asks, shaking his head. You knew he would ask this. "It's not that, it's just..." You begin, looking down at your hands, but he interrupts you. "Please, please don't do this." Coriolanus seems breathless, panicked, blue eyes wide and full of unshed tears. His pleas and tone surprise you - and pull at your heartstrings. "Coryo..." "What did I do? Is it because-" "No, it's not because of your situation." You say quickly. Your family has enough money for the both of you - it's really not that. "Then what! Did I mess up? I'll fix it! Let me fix it, please." He's desperate, you can hear it and see it. Your eyes take in his expression. You're not sure why, but something about his desperation and pleading is fascinating you. "It's not really something you can fi-" You begin, but he cuts you off again, and you're utterly shocked at what he does next.

"Please! Please don't do this. Don't leave me! I can fix it. I can." Coriolanus says, and then he slides off of your bed and down onto his knees, hands clasped in front of him.

[otteranha]

Eddie’s trying not to beg Steve to stay. Harrington’s already gone above and beyond for him, he deserves a night to sleep in his own bed. But God, does it have to be now? No one will talk about it except to pat his hand and tell him with tight lipped smiles that there’s nothing to worry about- legally the mob can’t do anything. Eddie’s been declared innocent, a tragic victim of the copycat killer.

It doesn’t change the fact that there’s been a group of people standing vigil outside the hospital since he got there. It doesn’t change the fact that the group has been growing in numbers until all of Hawkins seems to either be fleeing in desperation or taking up camp four floors below the room where Eddie lies unable to walk as far as the bathroom without help. It doesn’t change the energy of the mob, steadily humming louder, faster, with the intensity of a hive about to swarm.

“Should have known he’d be hightailing it when trouble came,” Wayne tells him. He’s furious on Eddie’s behalf that Steve would leave now, when the police protection detail has been declared no longer necessary. When the mob below is bigger than ever and angry enough that Eddie can feel it all the way up here.

“He didn’t want to go, he needs to sleep.” Eddie saw how badly Steve wanted to stay, how he was sweating and jaundiced and worse looking than he had since that first fight with the demobats. Steve needed to go home, deserved to go home. But part of Eddie, most of Eddie, wails inside for Steve not to leave him. Not tonight, please not tonight. He’d tried not to let Steve see it, doubted how well his subterfuge had worked.

“I wish I could stay but I just can’t, not tonight. I’m so sorry. But I promise- Anything goes wrong Eds, I’ll be here. I have to go now but if anyone needs me, if you need me, I’ll be here, I swear it.” He’d done a strange thing then, pressing Eddie’s hand to his brow before kissing the back of it like something out of one of the tales of courtly love Eddie had devoured as an Arthurian-legend obsessed kid. And then Steve was leaving. It was almost nightfall. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Eddie, his face anguished.

True to form, Eddie rallied. “Go on, and don’t worry about lil’ old me. I’ll be fine.”

The mob waits until just after midnight, then comes for him. They drag him from his bed, and Eddie has an insane thought apt to this insane situation that he’s glad he wore sweatpants under his hospital johnny so at least he’s not going to die bare-assed in front of the remaining population of Hawkins. Or maybe he jinxed himself by assuming the worst when he decided to wear them that night.

He sees the kids being held back by their parents, screaming for him as he’s hauled to the elevator, hopes desperately that Claudia and Karen and Sue and Charles will be strong enough to restrain them. The kids aren’t babies anymore; they’re tough and too used to fighting to protect their own. But this isn’t a fight they can win and he prays that parent-adrenaline will be enough let them wrangle his stupid, brave friends away from his side. He couldn’t keep Wayne away, they’d shouted at each other, all terrified love, him trying to make Wayne go, until the moment the door broke down and he was being dragged, his uncle’s grip still white-knuckled on Eddie’s wrist hard enough to bruise.

Everyone is shouting, himself included. He’s pleading his innocence, swearing he never hurt Chrissy. Until he sees the pyre and all the words evaporate inside him and he’s just screaming. They’re jeering at his tears, his terror. Calling him killer, devil-worshipper, Satan himself and worse. And then- something in the atmosphere shifts.

Eddie doesn’t see why the mob’s screaming changes, he’s hypnotized by the pyre. Do I weigh more than a duck? He thinks. You can’t burn me if I weigh more than a duck and then oh I’m hysterical.

“Get away! Get away from it!” They sound higher pitched now, a note of vibrato in the clamor. The shift in his captors’ tenor finally seeps in and Eddie looks around. The number of people buffeting him to a hideous end is shrinking, people peeling off and running. He can hear gunshots and then-

Snarling. Crunching sounds. Someone- something roaring into the night. It’s just the men holding Eddie now, Carver’s crew mostly. Wayne’s run up beside them and they don’t spare him a glance as he wrenches Eddie away from them. There’s a wolf. Massive, tawny, scarred, absolutely furious- lunging for them, slashing them with razor sharp claws until none of them are left standing. When the last of the mob is gone the wolf pads close and presses against Eddie’s side with a whine.

The kids come sprinting to him. “Jesus Christ, Steve! Well now they’re definitely going to think Eddie’s the lord of evil!” says Mike.

Eddie looks down at the wolf. He still feels like he might have a heart attack any minute, but the warm, soft fur is grounding. Steve Harrington looks up at him under the light of the full moon and wags his tail.

[ghouljams]

I was just stalking your fae au and was reading the moose-creature-mimic posts, and I saw you mention that witch can feel when the mimic is trying to break her wards.

Whenever I hear about Fae, my mind immediately goes to the magic system from one of my favourite book series in which people who make wards have to develop wards for specific creatures, and if a creature that they haven’t warded against tries to enter, they can break through, if not break the rest of the wards.

Let’s say for a moment that something like that happens in the Fae AU, where some kind of unfamiliar creature from a foreign civilization comes a knocking on witches doorstep, and is able to break through her wards.

What do you think would happen? If Witch is connected to them, would Witch ‘break’ too? How would Price react to the pure panic and pain shooting through the tethers as an unfamiliar creature breaks through his darling’s wards?

I feel like she would be absolutely broken afterwards (if she survives that is-) Her wards are her safe space, she had never had that happen, she didn’t know what happened.

Would price still trust her to be safe in her own home?

Would SHE still trust her to be safe in her own home??

Just some thoughts 🫣

Oooooooooh. Ok yeah I can do some horror with this. Love the concept. So the Canon answer is that warding in this magic system can be as broad or as narrow as the caster wants. Wards can be weak and they can be broken, but it isn't going to harm the caster, maybe it'll give then a bad feeling but not any actual harm. Not a very good ward if it harms the wrong target IMHO.

For the Witch's home these are wards that are basically generations of people enforcing and reinforcing an all purpose boundary. It's an iron wall that nothing(save humans) is getting through without a permit, and it's tied to Witch both through her magic and her blood. She can feel when things mess with it, but it's like getting asmr, it isn't actually affecting her. She's mentioned before that her wards are threats, so anything that isn't stopped by a simple denial of entry is going to have those threats enacted upon it.

But let's say something broke her wards, let's throw some rocks through the windows and bust shit up. I am going on record to say, this isnt canon:

You feel something crack in the air before you feel it break. The splintering spiderweb of intangible bonds being pushed too far hits you between the ribs and you have to clutch the kitchen counter to stay standing. Something is deeply, desperately, wrong. You don't know how or why(or what) but something is working very hard to get in to your space.

It shouldn't be possible in the first place, you have known this house, these wards, your whole life and you've never felt it give way. You've felt it change, felt it ripple, felt it pop and fizz when it doesn't like what you've let in, but never this. Never the creaking pressure of it bowing inwards and splitting under its own tension. Your fingers wrap tight around your athame as you go to check your back garden, peaking through the curtains. There's nothing.

But you can feel it, you can feel it splintering like a pain in your chest. Tight and radiating out from your sternum. It tingles down your arm, makes your grip feel looser than you know it is. You grab your back door's handle, take a few breathes to give yourself strength, and open it to shoo away whatever is pressing your wards. And very suddenly the splinters give way, like a hole punched through a window.

It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. A cool breeze blows through your door, wrong so very, very, wrong. The smell of moss invades your nose, burdened with the scent of decay. Slime mold oozing against your desperate breaths. You tug your shirt to cover your nose and mouth as the battering ram that had been beating your barrier steps through.

The horns of it scrape your ceiling, actually that bothers you more than it should, you're the one that has to fix it later. Velvet hangs from its antlers, freshly scraped and red, gory and divine. It stands on two clover hooves, and looks at you with malice. If you can even discern an expression from the thing. It's face is completely smooth save for its eyes, or it was smooth. A crack forms along the bottom of its smooth surface, splintering and chipping as it rips its mouth open and screams at you.

The sound is overpowering, dizzying, you feel your ears pop and then the noise is gone, replaced by a persistent dull ringing. You truly wonder when your life got so interesting. You hate interesting. You blame Price.

You cough, gag. You have to drop your makeshift mask to retch against the stench of rotten decay on this thing. It smells like death, weeks old bodies left to fester where no one will find them. You gag again, fingers curling around your throat as you try to keep you athame raised.

Your wards are silent, you home is silent, and you realize that you've never actually experienced true silence. Something is always buzzing or humming with magic, you always have music playing or bottles clinking, you're always surrounded by sound. Now it's all stopped. Even the ringing in your ears has settled into a cottony muffle. You can't feel any of your magic. Your numbed to it.

You drop your hand from your throat to your chest. You can't even feel the tethers there. Your fingers move over the fabric of your shirt without catching, there's not tightness to pull, not warmth to catch. You feel cavernous, empty past empty. What the fuck is that thing.

Whatever it is it seems to have finished its evaluation of you. Finished working whatever spell it was weaving. It takes a step towards you. You don't wait for it to take another before running. Scrambling away from the broken seal of the door towards whatever is heavy and throw-able.

You do your best not to let blind panic take over, to not just run wherever feels safe. You've always thought it was silly when people in horror movies don't do the smart thing, but you've never been in a horror movie before. You bolt towards your bedroom. It's the best guarded room in the house. Even if you can't feel your magic it should still be there. Right?

You feel the swip of the things claws through the air as it tries to grab you. You run straight past your front door without a second thought, sure you don't want whatever that is to be unleashed on the general public. It's claws dig deep gouges into the plaster of your wall, and you pray it doesn't do the same to your bedroom door. You know it will, but it can't hurt to pray. You're not in the mood to be picky with magic right now.

You get your bedroom door closed just in time to hear it splinter as the creature throws itself against it. You don't bother with chalk, digging your athame into the door and scratching sigils and circles as quickly as you can. When you tap them they sit absolutely dead. You smack your hand against your messy circle, willing the magic to respond. You smack it again as the creature throws itself against your door. The circle stays as it was, motionless, silent, still as a drawing.

You are suddenly much more comfortable allowing panic to overtake you. If you're powerless there's really no reason to keep your emotions in check. Your breath heaves, short and quick as you back away from your door and look towards your window. No magic swirls, no books rip themselves from your shelves, your panic heightens and nothing happens. How mundane.

One of the creatures claws punches a hole through the center of your circle, then another, and another. You back towards your window as it grips the wood of the door and attempts to pull it from its hinges. Your fingers push at your window, try to find the seams of it, try to get it open. It doesn't budge, it feels like it's been painted on. You bang your fist against the glass without so much as a crack. The wood behind you splinters. The crunch of it deafening over the silence.

"Price, Price, fuck I am not fucking around Price please," You beg pressing yourself back against the window as the creature drops pieces of the door onto your floor. Even if your magic doesn't work his still must. You've never hear of a fae not responding to their name. Granted you don't know the full thing, you don't know if that's really his name and not just a nickname. It might hold no power without the tethers between you. That doesn't stop you from saying it like a prayer, hoping if you speak him into existence enough times he might come and save you.

Your shoulders are grabbed by an invisible force as you are physically shaken. Your ribs shake, muscles tensed too tight to even take a breath.

There is a wet ache spreading over your stomach, you begin to tilt your head down to see what's wrong and Price catches you. His hand holds the back of your head, pulls it back up and shoves it against his shoulder. "Don't look," he tells you just as quickly as he'd stopped you. You nod against his shoulder.

He pulls something from you, rips the proverbial bandaid off, and you bite him at the pain. It feels like your heart has been knocked out of place, like your ribs have been played as a xylophone. Your stomach twists on itself. Suddenly you are back in your kitchen staring at the cabinets, the space where the creatures antlers had scraped the ceiling. The scratches are still there.

Then the shaking starts. Every muscle in your body starting to unspool in a violent shudder that must quake the very earth you stand on. It's loud. The house is so loud. The wards are practically screaming at you, you threshold wails and sobs where it has been brutalized. Your back door is still swung open to red and orange leaves, a lovely autumn day that leaks the smell of wet earth into your home. Price turns to follow your shaking gaze and kicks the door shut behind him.

"What-" You can't get anything more out around the aftershocks of panic. You're sure your house must look like a war zone.

"Probably some American invention," Price mumbles, "You weren't under long, deep breaths."

You suck in a breath, press your know into his shirt to smell the cool tobacco. It helps. Price keeps a firm grip on the back of your head, keeps you looking where he wants you to while his other hand does something. He touches you in a way you can't explain. It's almost metaphysical the way he zips you up, just on the right side of freezing. You can almost feel his fingers moving muscle and viscera out of the way as he does whatever he's doing. Fixing whatever just happened.

"Fucking hell your wards shredded that thing, surprised it even had the strength to touch you," There's something at the edge of Price's voice, fear your think. You're not sure what he's scared of, it isn't a comforting sound.

"How're you-" You try to focus on the important questions, like why Price hasn't been shredded.

"You lit up like a damn Christmas tree, thought I was gonna have my own attack with the panic you shot my way," He draws his hand away from your stomach, apparently finished with his fussing, "wards were too busy to notice me slip in."

Makes sense, even now they're too busy with repairs to pay attention to your regular.

"It broke my door," It's funny what you latch onto once shock starts to set in. "What did it want?"

"Same thing we all want," Price tells you, and you hate hearing him say it(we), because he doesn't mean it kindly, "you."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo NSFW Week 2023 Masterlist

Pairing: babysitter!Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 3: Lingerie, Body Worshipping

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Lingerie, Body Worshipping, Nipple Play

Satoru will do just about anything to be with the MILF he babysits for. He'll worship the ground she walks on. So it's fair to say he's happy when she surprises him with barely anything on.

❤︎ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❤︎

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

One thing that Satoru often fantasizes about is the woman he babysits for. Everything she does makes his imagination go wild. The shorts and the low cut shirts leave little to his imagination. His imagination goes wild whenever she pouts her glossy lips, scrunches up her nose or bats her long eyelashes.

He’s been with her before. One time while your daughter was asleep. But nothing ever happened after that. You never called him again. He really thought that the gig that was producing him, a somewhat broke college student, good money, was over. His eyes lit up when he saw your contact grace his phone again. He didn’t waste a second picking up the phone but to his dismay, it was just to babysit.

He wasn’t sure if you had a date or were meeting some friends, but you needed him to take care of your daughter. And now he’s here, his arms crossed as he watches some kids show. He’s just thinking about you, which pisses him off. He’s thinking about how you’re most likely with some idiot, making out with him and doing all the things you did with Satoru not too long ago.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that your daughter has to tap his arm before saying, “There’s at the door, Toru.”

“Oh, sorry.” Satoru responds, patting the top of her head before standing up and going to the door. When Satoru opens the door, he finds your ex-husband. He knows your ex-husband, of course he does. Satoru has stalked every possible social media you have, and he’s seen your ex-husband over and over again. “Can I help you?”

“You a new boyfriend or something?” Your ex-husband asks, and it almost makes Satoru’s eye twitch. He doesn’t understand why he feels so jealous of the man that stands in front of him– Maybe it’s because they look nothing alike.

“Babysitter.” Satoru answers. He’s about to ask what your ex-husband is doing here, but you walk to the door right on cue. You smile at Satoru before looking at your ex-husband.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, and the man rolls his eyes.

“Told you I was coming to pick her up.” The man responds. You pout and then turn your attention to Satoru.

“Will you handle the exchange? I have to do something urgent.” You request and Satoru nods in response. You run into the house, kiss your daughter goodbye before running upstairs, while Satoru and your ex-husband stare at each other for what feels like a solid ten minutes. But it’s not even close to five.

“Well, aren’t you going to handle it? I don’t have all night?” And it makes Satoru walk inside to get your daughter ready to go with her father. It’s not much, just getting a small backpack and filling it with her favorite toys because she has everything else she needs at her father’s apartment.

“Bye, Toru.” She hugs Satoru and Satoru hugs her back. She keeps waving until her father grabs her waving hand and walks her to his car. Satoru leans on the doorframe as he watches your daughter be put in the backseat of the car. Once your ex-husband is done, Satoru shuts the door and walks back inside. 

He wonders what you’re doing upstairs, why you aren’t down here giving him his payment. He’s not going to wait down here. He begins to go up the stairs, while the wildest thoughts run through his mind. What if you’re upstairs in your bed and– God no, he can’t think like that knowing that he’s about to talk to you. He won’t be able to get a word out. 

Satoru takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. He patiently waits for your sweet voice to yell, “Come in!”

“Hey so since–” Satoru opens the door and walks into the room. His eyes nearly pop out of his bed when you lay on your bed wearing a red lingerie set. You’re scrolling through your phone, acting unbothered. But of course this is all planned, Satoru is not naive enough to believe that a woman just casually lays down in very sexy underwear. It doesn’t stop his cock from getting any less hard. “What…”

“I’ve missed you, Satoru.” You bat your eyelashes, pouting your lips. You sit on the edge of the bed. You let the bra strap fall from your shoulder, and Satoru doesn’t need an explanation as he walks over to you, “I tried to move on with someone else but you just fucked me so good…”

You don’t have to convince him. At all. He’s on his knees, ready to worship you as a goddess. In his eyes, you are a goddess. You don’t have to say anything for him to kiss your foot, then up your leg, telling you within kisses, “You’re so beautiful.”

There’s a smirk on your lips as Satoru kisses every inch of your body. His teeth nibble on the soft flesh of your thighs. Then he kisses the same spot over and over again, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He goes up, kissing your stomach and up to your breasts. He kisses and sucks your exposed cleavage, while one hand goes to your back to unclasp your bra. You slide it off and Satoru’s mouth wraps around your nipple. He sucks on your nipple while his hand plays with the other one. You bite down on your lip as he does so before a breathy moan leaves your lips.

He detaches himself from your nipple and kisses up your neck. He sucks on your skin, and you bite down your tongue when he finds that sweet spot that makes you weak. He finally gets to your lips and he pecks them a couple of times, “You look like a goddess. Any man is blessed to be in your presence.”

He goes down again, pushing your panties to the side. He takes a minute to look at your pussy, and his mouth begins to salivate. He gently kisses your cunt before he spreads your folds, getting a better look at your pussy, “Pretty little cunt. Prettiest I’ve ever seen”

He kisses your clit before his tongue begins to flick it. You watch him as he works his way through your cunt, and he’s looking back up at you to look at your reaction. The softest moans leave your lips as his tongue works its magic. 

You were thinking about doing this again, but you got busy. You never called him back, thankfully, you finally got to call him again. You aren’t someone that usually likes younger guys but Satoru is definitely an exception. He begins to suck on your clit while two fingers go up to your mouth, pressing against your lips indicating for you to open up your mouth. You open your mouth and he shoves his fingers in. When his fingers are wet enough, he takes them out of your mouth and drags them through your folds before he pushes them inside of you.

He swears he’s in heaven as he tastes you on his tongue. You just taste so fucking good. He wants to taste you every single day, and he’s swearing as he eats you out that he’s going to fucking marry you; that’s how much he loves your pussy.

“Oh, that’s so good, Satoru.” You moan as he moves his fingers. You hear him as he moans, letting you know how much he fucking loves your pussy. You’re biting down on your lip, throwing your head back as he makes you feel so good.

You feel that familiar feeling approach, and with every flick of his tongue, the feeling gets stronger and stronger. Your hands go down, your fingers running through his soft hair. 

His name escapes your lips, your legs shaking as you see white and reach your high. Satoru pulls away not without kissing your pussy one last time. He takes his fingers out then kisses your lips. He mutters on your lips, 

“Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

[dairy-farmer]

I just had a thought! :3c Multiverse+A/B/O/ shenanigans! And it goes on longer then I expected it too!

Consider!

Tim. Clever, ruthless, barely holding in there. Standing in the ruins of what once was Gotham, air tank running, filters On. The air of planet earth has finally passed the point of no return. The last human hold outs have finally fallen.

He was hoping it wouldn't come to this.

The Great Pyrrhic Victory.

Batman's Doomsday Vault. Buried deep under the rumble of Wayne Manor. With every last Fuck You, Batman ever found. All the "taking you with me" plans, laid out side by side. And Tim?

He needs the one at the very back.

Because this... THING. Won't stop. Not ever. And the Multiverse can't afford that. So Tim fights forward. Runs out of weapons. Bashes in those last few skulls with and empty air tank. And then he digs.

And digs.

And digs.

He runs out of air tanks, day seventeen. But the rubble filters the poisoned air enough. It has to be enough. Three hours later he hits Vault. Uses the last of his wrist computer's battery to power the entry pad and door. He's in. At least the air is clean here, for now.

And there? In the back? Sits the plain black lock-box.

A sci-fi looking hand grenade with extra bits. The bomb that can Destroy Everything. Not just the world. But the entire universe. Tim's whole reality and everyone in it. He would never consider it, if there was anyone left. Any way to fix this. But there's not.

It's just him, a monster, and the bomb that can end all of this.

He doesn't bother to say good bye. Why give that THING a chance to stop him? He pulls the pin.

And let's go.

Aaaaand it works EXACTLY as it's creator designed it too. VERY big boom. Everything dead. Etc etc. Reality? Hard Deleted. No take backs. But! Creator dude was a coward and a scoundrel. Like FUCK was HE going to stick around and Die with you PEASANTS. Absolutely the fuck not! He just hated you! To death!

HE was gonna hop to a DIFFERENT reality! One that probably had blackjack and hookers! Appreciated his GENIUS! Or at least that had been the plan... until Batman Super DUPER broke his bones for threatening all of reality. As one does.

It was in the file.

Page 17.

Tim only bothered to read to page 15. Because he was short on time and the world was dying. He didn't give a shit about the assholes life story. He probably should have. Because if he HAD? He would have realized he wasn't going to die today.

Instead he's in the Vault.

THE Vault.

The Super Dangerous Batman's Final Fuck You Vault of DANGEROUS EXPLODING DOOM Vault(tm). He's not doing so hot. What with the hiking for days without rest, poisoned air, no food or water, and expecting to die. He's standing in front of THE "destroys the universe" bomb. Blinking dumbly down at it.

These many factors are probably why he fails to dodge.

WHAM!

Getting full body takled by a well rested, highly trained, adrenaline filled Alpha? BIG Ouch. But at least Tim get medical aid and an IV of fluids! Followed by everyone's FAVORITE gameshow~ Paranoid Bat Duel Interrogations, Code Word Exchanges, and General Angry Wet Cat Posturing!

The fact that Tim does not EXSIST here? Doesn't help. But his wrist computer DOES. The OTHER problem? Is this Reality has secondary genders? What? I mean, he HAS heard of planets like that. But...

It apparently trips them out just as much, that he only has one. But apparently Uncle Clark has the same problem. So he's given fake Beta pheromones to where.

He's... surprised they just let him stay. To be honest. But apparently "pack is pack", and HIS family may be gone, but so long as THIS version is alive? He has a home with them. Tim doesn't cry. It's dust. Sweat got in his eyes.

But! This wouldn't be a smutty Ask Thought if it stayed so wholesome, would it?

Because Tim is awkward. Clearly trying his best. But unsure of... how to? Bond. He doesn't HAVE the enhanced sense of smell. The scent glands. The instincts. He loved his family, but they didn't DO touch nearly as often as A/B/O/ packs need for healthy bonds. So really, he comes off as skittish. Jumpy. Abused almost.

In need of attention.

Bruce casually rubbing his shoulder. Clasping the back of his neck. Sitting near him. Duck tucking Tim's arm in his, resting his head on Tim's shoulder theatrically so he can rub his scent on him subtly. Jason slinging arms around him and using him as a leaning post.

And Damian. A child who never knew him as any sort of Rival or threat to his position, who sees him NOW as a battered and abused member joining the pack. A hero in his own right, Tim is no threat to Damian's long held position as Robin. Damian is out here legit RESEARCHING how to rehabilitate abused Betas and Omegas, trying to apply a hybrid approach.

Treating him like an easily spooked cat.

Tim starters getting used to being touched. Cuddled even. Pulled into laps and flopped upon. Honestly, even kinda LIKES this whole nest idea. It's pretty comfy.

But then it goes to shit. In the way it always seems to. Tim has started helping out. Building a record of Red Robin's presence LONG before Tim Wayne appears. Planning outings for when he CAN go out together with the others. Comparing realities. But then? Ivy. And ugly fight.

Heat inducer, straight to the face.

He calls it in. Already used a near by hose to get it off him. But... but he feels sick. Like, lose meal you ate as a four year old sick. Nightwing gets to him. Jabs him with the counter agent. Helps him back to the cave.

But not before a dangerously high fever starts to kick in. Blurred vision. Sever nausea. He's not REMOTELY aroused, but he IS being affected. They scramble to figure out what's happening.

The inducer is poisoning him.

The counter agent is helping, so another, STRONGER dose is applied. But that's all the can do. And even that, is incredibly rough in his liver. And he's still nauseous, still has a fever.

His body just doesn't have the proteins to break down the chemical of the inducer. Bruce sends everyone back out on patrol. He scoops Tim up. He'll tuck him into bed so he can rest. There really is nothing they can do.

But that's not true and they all know it. It's that none of them are willing to SAY it. To name the truth. There very much IS a way to get Tim the proteins he needs to break down the drug poisoning him. And with how deeply nauseous he is, it wouldn't be orally.

But they choke on it.

Eyes lingering on their other-reality pack mate. Frustrated, they leave to go take there anger out on some goons. Bruce himself tries not to think about it, as he carries Tim upstairs. As every jostle and sway makes Tim desperately suck in air to keep from hurling. As sweat catches the light. Making the younger man look like he'd just run a marathon.

He rests Tim on his bed. He's refusing to think about. Helps Tim out of his clothes. Isn't thinking about it. Goes, comes back, with cool water and a wash cloth. Most CERTAINLY not thinking about it.

Tim his thrown an arm over his eyes. To block out the light. Is pulling in even, practices breathes. Utterly miserable. When... when he doesn't have to be. Bruce wets the wash cloth and wipes him down. It's basicly with holding treatment.

Bruce's eyes stray the the sheet, lightly draped over Tim's hips. Only thing that covering him, now. He is horrifyingly glad Tim is scent blind. Tears his eyes away. Tells Tim that... technically... there IS one way to get the proteins into his system. If he doesn't want to wait this out.

For a long, terrifying, moment there is dead silence.

Bruce has ruined everything.

Tim hates him.

He's going to run away and never speak to him aga-

Bruce is pulled from his brooding panic spiral, by Tim dryly pointing out, that in CASE Bruce us unaware? He's fucking huge. And Tim is nauseous as shit right now. He WILL blow chunks. Not exactly sexy. Perfect timing as always, Bruce. Somethings truely ARE universal.

Bruce snorts. But Tim has a good point. This is hardly the most romantic situation. As sensual as sandpaper to the face. He promises to make it up to Tim. Feels that distinctly Alpha thrill at the prospect of GETTING to take care of someone. Tuck them close and provide for them.

For now, he massages. Gently. Careful not to rock. Slides his hand down to gently rub. Twirl his finger around and tease Tim's little cocklette clit, when things are wet enough, drift lower to slid in. Start to gently stretch his hole.

He doesn't have to fit. Today. Just has to get deep enough that no seed will slip out. A though occurs to him. They have heat aids, don't they? He bought them for Dick and Jason. They probably don't USE the smaller ones anymore, since they've grown. But that doesn't mean Alfred would have thrown them out.

Bruce leans down. Presses a kiss to Tim chest. And tells him he'll be right back. He's gonna get something that'll help.

Heads for the Heat/Rutt nest.

And yep. Right there on the high shelf in the back. The smaller plugs and toys. Grab that and a bottle of artificial slick, he's good to go. Back in short order.

The slick makes his fingers slide in so EASILY. He pulls back, picks up his favorite rutt sleeve from where he stashed in the box. And imagines what it will feel like, working himself inside that tight, fluttering hole. Brings himself to the edge with brutal efficiency, but doesn't let himself fall over. Sleave off, crawl forward.

Gently pushing. Still too tight. Tim gasping and gripping his arms, legs spread beneath him. He wants so BADLY to rock forward. To fuck into him. But he won't. Not Today. Just the tip, pushed just deep enough to gush inside, as he cums. He shudders, milking his cock into that body. Then grabs the cute little blue plug that'll keep it all inside him.

Rock it in.

It's impossible NOT to cuddle Tim after that. To wrap him in his scent and body. Instincts and hormones demand it.

His son's are of course FURIOUS. Mostly that he enticed Tim with out discussing it with them or with them there. His youngest, also being an Alpha, tries to stab him at breakfast. It's to be expected. The important thing is Tim feels better.

Tim is ALSO immediately hunted down by Damian, when maiming his father for sexing up Delicate Timothy failed. Scoundrel! Cad! Damian bets he wasn't even gentle and attentive! Barbarian! How could he!

So obviously, it's up to the ONLY Alpha in this household with ANY decency! To fix this! Which is how Tim starts the first day of MANY exciting days to come, by waking up to Damian eating him out like it's his mission in life. Fingers on a mission to find his g-spot or die trying. One overwhelming, if confused, and still waking up orgasm later?

Damian is tucking a pillow under his hips. Adjusting his grip. And..? Oh! Oh, big is genetic! Very full! And he hasn't even hit his final growth spurt yet. Holy shit. Then Damian pulls his hips back and snaps forward, and Tim's not thinking much of anything. Mostly just incoherent babbling and scrambling at the sheets.

Getting That Spot HAMMERED.

Shuddering apart.

Feeling something... different. Pressure. Stretch. Popping in and out, until it CANT and its just dragging the grind, just inside him. Damian shuddering, snapping his hips forward like he wants to FORCE it deep. Like a FIST inside him. Spraying his guts. Full! Oh god, full! It's grinding against everything that feels good. Amazing and like he's gonna die. Tim can SEE the little bulge of seed, from how full he's gotten.

He gets to learn EXACTLY how long it takes for a knot to go down.

"They" get caught Dick. Who hums and offers Tim advice. It CAN be a lot, can't it? Dick meanders over. Eyes trailing over Tim's straining and sweat soaked body. Where Damian is buried deep and knotted inside him. And leans down.

You know what always helps DICK when a knot is too much?

Tim knows that look in Dicks eyes. He does not trust that look. Tim doesn't want to know, Dick.

Too bad~☆! Says Robin number one, grining like a shark.

What helps HIM, is more orgasms, He informs, as his clever hand makes contact with Tim's clit. Tim jerks but can't escape. Pinching, twisting, tugging. Rubbing. Tim whines and jerks, coming apart while Dick watchs. Waits his turn.

It's a long morning.

Luckily, Omegas can't Knot. Unfortunately, that does NOTHING to stop them from bending you in half and railing you through the mattress. Pulling you up into their lap then up and down their cock like a sleeve. Kissing the air out of your lungs as they pin you to a wall, so they can get better leverage, fucking deep and hard like they want to permanently rearrange your insides.

Sometimes Omegas are ALSO Superhero acrobats.

Tim hides out in Jason's room, after he escapes Horny Devil and his beloved gremlin. Gets a shower. A nap. It's a mistaaaaake. Or not? Jason, at least, props him up in a comfy position before sliding home. Apparently stretched him A LOT while he slept, because frankly, the fullness feel nice instead of bloated.

He could almost go back to sleep.

Gentle rocking. Sweet praise being rumbled in his ear. Warm pressure covering him like a weighted blanket. The slow, building, hum of pleasure. 'S nice. Jason even arranged the pillows so Tim could slump face down and still breath just fine!

........you know what? He NEVER gets to sleep this easy. Go for it. This is nice. Unlike SOME people, at least Jason is being thoughtful. Have fun.

And Jason does have fun. Tim drifts in and out of a light snooze. Getting some sleep, getting some orgasms. Waking up to an absolutely GUSHING hole stuffed with cum. An exhausted Jason cuddled up next to him. The sheets may be beyond saving.

He has to shower, again.

Sticks to the walls. Hugs corners. As he keeps an eye out for Fuckwing the cuddler. Tim is HUNGRY damn it! He missed both breakfast AND lunch thanks to him! He eats quickly. Does not notice Alfred's exasperated look. The Beta can smell everything, after all.

And since HIS room is compromised. Tim, having learned nothing, decided to hide in Bruce's room. The perfect place to nap!

Which is obviously exactly where Bruce finds him. Smelling like bratty, young adult drama and jealousy, exhausted on his bed. Poor Tim. His kids fighting over Tim Time should NOT be taken out of Tim. They'll learn THAT the hard way, when he inevitably avoids them to rest.

Bruce, luckily, already learned all this in his playboy phase.

Want a massage? Some juice? Cuddles? I'm VERY non-threatening. Here if you ever feel horny. Let's get you all nested up, hmm?

And Tim's not even an Omega. He's not an ANYTHING. But damn if that's not effective. Bruce paying attention to him. Talking in that low, soothing rumble. Touching all soft and gentle. Not pushing or demand, just warm and smelling so GOOD and just.....

He's squirming out of his clothes and dragging Bruce down on top of him. Feeling incredibly decadent and kinda bratty. Pay attention to him. Fill him up and make him feel good. He's pouting and demanding and feeling clingy. And wonder of wonders?

Bruce doesn't scold him or scowl. But grins so indulgently, hums and hushs. Yes, yes. Of course. His little pillow princess, gonna get so full and knotted.

And Bruce is huge. But Jason stretched him so, SO much. So Bruce can rock into him now. Punch the air out of him, little by little, as he gets filled up. Whine and pant as his clit his teased. As Bruce fills him even when it feels like there should be no room left. Until he bottoms out. Grinds with little rocks of his hips.

Slides back and seems to take Tim's insides with him. Slowly. The more. In and out. Held still. Praised as his insides stretch out. As it starts to feel overwhelming good instead of just overwhelming. Faster. Harder. Whimpering and drooling as everything is pummeled by the snap of those hips. Fucked.

He's not even knotting him yet.

Bruce making him orgasm first. Almost dragging it out of him. So his body will relax enough to TAKE it. Then the pressure. The short, brutal little rutts against Tim's best spots. Made all the more sensitive having just orgasmed. Each one making Tim jolt and squeeze, milking that quickly expanding pressure. Having it GRIND, almost cruely, against where it feels best.

Unable to move, barely able to BREATHE, as he finally locks and begins to gush. Pumping deep. Filling and filling. Hot hands, rubbing to ease the strain. Or maybe just in fascination. He's been with Beta's but never someone who body straight out WASN'T designed for this sort of thing. Not poorly designed for. NOT designed for.

Tim looks almost pregnant. Not heavily. Just that tiny swell. But it's enough to wonder. Are they even compatible? He finds himself hoping the might be. Let's his hand drift down as he leans forward to press kisses to Tim's face. Works him up to another orgasm. See? Being knotted is nice. Feels good.

It's a bit awkward due to the angle, thanks to his own poor planning, but he is able to cuddle close to Tim. Who is finally getting used to it. Is nested in pillows, covered by Bruce, and filled to the brim. High as a kite on hormones thanks to the near but not quiet pain and repeated orgasms. There'll be no Red Robin on patrol tonight.

Tim of course, can barely walk the next day.

Which means he can not escape his brother's. Who love him VERY much and have multi-step plans to becoming THE favorite. Tim may soon become the stabby one, if they don't let him rest. Alfred is the favorite. He has food and doesn't keep Tim from his work.

(That's a lie. He loves all of them. But his fuck bruises have fuck bruises, so currently they're all BASTARDS. Dead to him! Hisssss!)

-🐼🐼🐼

!!! the angst of tim losing his universe but then ultimatly sent to another, an a/b/o one where he's the object of their desire but he can't fully handle it because his biology just isn't fully compatilble but that doesn't stop them from trying!!!

[4792beretta]

☆ zero day headcanons pt.II ☆

★ cal would be the type of guy who’d hear stuff fall in the fridge, and leave it for the next person to deal with. he’d think he’s so slick and nobody knows it was him who got in there last but everybody knows, they caught on quick.

★ andre would (not so) secretly be a nerd. he would go bonkers for sci-fi and fantasy. probably really into lord of the rings and star wars.

★ cal once tried to record himself playing his guitar and singing thinking he’s the next kurt cobain but would immediately get embarrassed hearing it. the tape with it got burned in the bonfire before zero day.

★ andre and cal used to love playing mortal kombat together, but had to stop after andre’s mom had to intervene because andre threatened to flush cal’s retainer during a screaming match.

★ in middle school andre always had a buzz cut until cal started calling him billy corgan, he then started growing it out a bit longer

★ cal definitely broke brackets all the time when he had braces, always ate super hard candy and chewed gum that got stuck to them.

★ andre would love tarantino films, especially reservoir dogs.

★ despite being witty and good with words, cal prefers to fight people psychically even with his shorter and skinnier stature.

★ andre and cal love to put the tv on mute and make up their own lines in movies. it always ends up with them getting yelled at to be quiet cause cal laughs so much.

★ sometimes andre goes on these big spiels about things he’s passionate about, and even if he doesn’t get it cal will always listen and ask questions. cal knows how much it means to andre to have somebody who will just listen and engage with his interests.

★ andre is a decent cook and will always make cal food when he complains that he hasn’t ate all day because the school food was nasty.

★ there was one time during a sleepover where andre and cal were reading scary stories online, but they stumbled upon one that was so realistic and scared them so much they had to sleep with a giant knife under the mattress.

sorry if this post is a bit short :( i didn’t wanna go too overboard and have things get boring after a bit. if you’ve read this far thank you!!! hope you enjoyed these hcs!!!

[bonebrokebuddy]

A TROPE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE EXPLORED MORE: 

I’ve seen many fics where it hits the general story beats of: Danny gets approached by Gotham citizens. They talk to him like they know Danny but he has never seen these people before in his life. Eventually he finds out that people are mistaking him for a batkid. Eventually the look-alikes meet and they share stories of how they got confused for each other and wanted to meet the other to see who they kept getting confused for. 

I’ve seen authors do this mainly with Gotham citizens or a member of the batfamily mistaking Danny for a member of the batfamily. 

But I haven’t seen many examples of the reverse. An Amity Park citizen approaching a batkid thinking that they are Danny. 

Imagine the possibilities. The many hcs about creepy Amity Park would mesh perfectly with this. The batkids would be massively confused and be very concerned because like,

What the fuck is wrong with these weird people who keep approaching him and asking when his parent’s wrist rays are going to go back in stock because their old one broke? Who is this “Danny” guy and why do they look enough alike for them to be mistaken for the other multiple times in one day? What the fuck is wrong with the town these guys are coming from because when they are background checked they’ve all came from this small town in Illinois? And why do these people keep thinking he’s been possessed by ghost then pull weird sci-fi looking guns out of nowhere and fire at him with weird green goo when they say they’re not Danny? 

Ways this prompt could work in many different ways for different batkids with  the above scenario (but if you write something about Amity Park members mistaking a batkid for Danny, please tag me i would love to read it):

--------------

DAMIAN

Initially, the Amity Park citizen thought that Danny was doing his “spooky eye” thing but then after the kid said he wasn’t Danny, they realized it was a sign of possession. Damian isn’t possessed; he just has green eyes. 

ANOTHER ROUTE:

Damian thinks that one of his clones has escaped the league of assassins and now is living a normal life in Amity. Seeking to get rid of the weaker clone, Damian goes to Amity to kill Danny. They fight but Danny tries to talk it out and eventually, after nearly being murdered in his bed multiple nights in a row, consents to DNA testing. The best part? Because Danny canonically has fucked up dna due to that “his molecules got all rearranged” so, for this, it means that Danny’s DNA is so fucked up when trying to do any testing on it, that it’s essentially unreadable. So they are never able to actually finally disprove that Danny isn’t related to Damian (who is paranoid that the birth certificates and baby photos of Danny could be elaborately faked by the league of assassins because they cannot biologically disprove that they are not related but jokes on him, they’re not actually related. They just look alike).

——————

TIM

Tim notes the name Amity Park and once he gets back to the batcave, he begins his research. And is then immediately concerned at the blatant digital non-existence up of the entire town. There are some news reports, a town website, articles about places to visit and restaurants to eat at. But that's it. Just articles and official websites that are oddly blank. He can find no social media posts or blogs or any online activity at all from people inside Amity Park. No tweets with the location set to Amity, no youtube channels, no school email addresses, no nothing from people within Amity. 

Just complete digital silence. 

Whoever was responsible was doing a pretty shitty job at hiding that they were covering up something big. And all it took was a VPN with the location set in Amity with Justice League clearance and he was in.

Amateurs.

Tim sat back as the batcomputer began compiling and sorting the previously hidden information. Five minutes into the scan, a popup appeared with the first set of interesting things about Amity. The most notable was that the town has been being attacked by monsters they called “ghosts” for over 5 years now. The second was that there was an previously undocumented organization that claimed to be government funded but with further research, it wasn’t clear which government as a little digging revealed the money to be sourced from multiple of them. The third was the Dr.s Fenton research. Research seemed to have changed from the belief that ghosts were non-sentient forms of energy fueled by their last emotions alive to the current perception of ghosts not only being sentient but there being countless and very intriguing research papers on the history, governments, and cultures from a variety of ghost societies.

The fourth popup was the surface level information on Danny Fenton. As the batcomputer would need more time to find more information. And holy shit. The guy did look like him. Well, almost. In the most recent photo that Danny posted with his friends, Tim could clearly see that there were a few differences. Namely, his build. Fenton was visibly more muscular with broader shoulders and a few inches taller. But scrolling back through the images, he found one from before Danny got his apparent growth spurt and they looked nearly identical. Sure Tim had a slightly different jawline, different eye shape with the color a different shade of blue. But Danny looked like if someone tried to draw Tim from memory. It was uncanny. But there was much larger things to worry about as a new chime from the batcomputer brought his attention and to his shock, he already had access to the ghost investigation ward’s database. There is no way that the batcomputer's program automatic searching for firewall weakness actually worked on a government clearance server. But probing around in the server, it became quickly apparent that it wasn’t easily accessible false information to give to people so they  think they’ve achieved their goal. No, the automatic system actually worked and someone had left a convenient backdoor to the server that gave him access through an “Agent K’s” clearance.

There was so much data available that it quickly became clear to Tim that it would take a while to sort through it all. Glancing over the different files, Tim froze and clicked on a file labeled “Fenton-Lazarus-Agreement.pdf”. It took a while to read as the scanned contract was so compressed that it was nearly illegible. This “Ghost Investigation Ward” was planning on performing experiments combining Lazarus Water with a substance only referred to as “purified ectoplasm” to see how it affected ghosts, humans, and to see how it could be integrated into weapons that could equally affect both. Horrified, Tim began to comb through as much information as he could find. But while Agent K had clearance to know about the upcoming plans for these tests, they did not have access to any other communication about it. So, with no other easily exploitable trapdoor, Tim set to work sorting through encrypted and classified information. 

No shit whoever it was left the obvious backdoor, he would too after how damn long it took to unencrypt the damn messages, it was almost inhuman how difficult it was. He had to meet the guy who hacked into the organization first. Because whoever it was, had his undying respect and he just wished that the dude got access to the rest of the database because if they were hiding it this well, it must be something really bad.

Several hours later, the lights of the batcave have long since automatically shut off. The light from the batcomputer being the only source of illumination still on, casting harsh dramatic shadows across the billions of dollars worth of equipment and trophies around him. While Tim knew he shouldn’t be down here this late because the light will disturb the natural sleep cycle of the bats within it, right now he did not care. But Tim’s attention wasn’t focused on the familiarly creepy atmosphere of the cave or the sound of the unnaturally active bats. His eyes, now red and dry from straining for hours looking at the bright light were focused on the records of communications between the Al Ghul’s glaring down at him from the screen. The unencrypted emails detailed an agreement for the exchange of “Fenton Works weapons and gadgets” in return for Lazarus water. Tim reread the emails again and again. Fenton Works. He knew that something was up. From what he recalled from the guy who shot green goo at him earlier that day, they mentioned something about “wrist rays” available for purchase by the Fentons. Guess his doppelganger was more involved in Tim’s life than he previously thought. .

After spending many days researching and compiling information, Tim was able to send a full, cohesive report to Bruce first, then the Justice League as further investigation of goings-on in the Ghost Investigation Ward and Amity Park revealed that there was much more being covered up than just the ghosts and the connection to the League of Assassins in the little midwestern town. 

Tim was able to convince Bruce to let him be apart of the scouting and information gathering team when the League was cleared to investigate Amity Park. He really wanted to find the guy who was able to hack into the Ghost Investigation Ward’s security, get some Fenton Works tech incase ghost attacks ever occurred in Gotham, and to maybe meet this Danny guy and see if he can ask him if there is a way to get ectoplasm out of clothing because the last Amity Park guy who thought he was processed got a shot in and the ectoplasm stain wont come out of his favorite shirt.

--------

Jason

This wasn’t Jason’s first encounter with an Amity citizen, but this was the first time they landed a shot in and it hurt. The middle aged black man stood in front of Jason with his gun still raised. The man wore a light blue work polo with tan pants. The shirt was embroidered with a company logo of an “Axion Labs” in white followed by the attacker’s name, Damon Gray, embroidered in black.  

Barely having any time to recover from the shot, the Gray continued his barrage of fire and yelled, “GET OUT OF DANNY YOU GHOST!” Jason narrowly dodged the rays coming at him of the weird toxic green energy that was so bright it almost flickered out of human perception. So Jason did the reasonable thing and ran. He needed to escape the barrage of bullets and couldn’t fight back in his civilian gear. Dodging into a nearby alleyway to escape the blasts, Jason jumped up in the nearby fire escape and hastily began to climb. Pain erupted from his shoulder as he looked down and saw Gray with surprising amounts of dexterity and mobility for a man around 50, easily hop up on the fire escape and continued to fire. And so the chase continued. The guy was a surprisingly good shot, as evident from the stinging pain in his back and shoulder and it was a relief when finally Jason was able to loose the attacker. But by the time he donned his red hood gear, the asshole was gone. 

Unbeknownst to Jason, Damon Grey had hurriedly changed course as he realized that if he missed the meeting he flew over 800 miles to get to, his boss would kill him regardless if it was to stop a possession or not. On the train, he opened up his Amity Alert App and reported the possession and location to let the rest of the town to keep a lookout for Danny and excuse any actions he may make until the ghost is removed.

800 miles away, three alerts rung off from three phones, one with a galaxy case, one in a purple case, and one in an absolute brick of a case that looked like it would survive a nuclear blast before it let the phone inside break. Tucker looked up from his computer and went to turn the alert off before he paused. Looked back the notification then over his shoulder where Danny sat at assembling a Fenton Works device (Danny seriously regrets letting Tucker set up that online shop because now his days are mostly filled with helping keep up with the backlog of orders. His parents’ age are gaining on them and they don’t have the ability to constantly be making inventions like they used to. So, Danny does his best to help out.) with Sam working on a different order next to him. Both of them haven already turned their respective phone’s alerts off.  

“Hey Danny”, Tucker called out, making Danny pause from his current task of assembling a Fenton Lipstick Blaster and turn his head to look at Tucker,

“Yeah dude?” 

Holding his phone close to his face and clearly enunciating to emphasize the message, Tucker began to read, “Are you aware that at 12:43pm today you were spotted being processed in Gotham by Valerie’s Dad?” Tucker lowered his phone and looked back up at Danny who had fully put down his tools and reached for his own phone.

“Didn’t you say that El was visiting Spain right now?”

“Yeah, she sent me a photo of a seagull stealing someone’s hat from there, like, two hours ago.” Tucker could see Danny tapping around on his phone, presumably opening his conversation with Dani.

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed and he paused looking at his screen. “No, she definitely wouldn’t have been able to travel back to the US by now unless she found a natural portal or called Wulf. But I’m going to text her again really quick just to make sure.” 

Tucker got up and walked over to where the ghost boy and Sam sat at the workbench. Then they waited. A few moments later, the typing indicator’s dots popped up and a new message appeared.

It read, “Nope! I’m still in Spain? I saw the alert, are you okay?”

After typing a response, Danny laid his phone down on the cluttered workbench rubbed his face in his hands and turned to face Sam and Tucker.

“What the fuck do we do now?”

[whumpasaurus101]

Whumptober, day one

YAY!!! First day of @whumptober Lets see how this goes YUDJUHDDHJ

-

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?

-

Sidekick stumbled backwards as Villain advanced towards them. They could hear their own heartbeat in their ears, thumping loudly as if crying out for help.

“Give it up, kid. Tell me where Hero is and you and I can get along.”

Sidekick took a shaky breath before slowly bring up their fists, ready to fight as they got their footing back, “Not happening,” they rasped, hating themself for how weak their voice sounded, “I'm not going to stop fighting back.”

A cruel smirk cracked along Villain’s lips as they raised their fists too, “Me neither.”

This time, Sidekick lunged forwards first. They went to swing at the villain but their wrist was quickly grabbed, along with their other one before Villain drove their knee up into Sidekick’s stomach.

Sidekick cried out as they hunched over, only resulting in them being kneed in the face. They fell to the floor, not getting any break as Villain was quick to straddle their hips, delivering punch after punch.

Sidekick screamed out, letting out all their energy, grabbing both of Villain’s wrists before throwing them off of them. This time they straddled Villain’s hips. They shot out their witch blade, placing it just at Villain’s throat as they caught their breath, “You- you're going to leave me alone,” Sidekick growled, surprising themself at their own tone, “You're going…gonna leave me and Hero alone.”

Villain simply scoffed, “Oh please, you think you scare me? You're nothing but a weak link to Hero. They only hired you because they felt sorry for you.

And that was when Sidekick did something they were trained not to do. They let it sink in. Their grip on Villain loosened and they gulped. But Villain then turned Sidekick to the floor, snatching the blade from the other’s hand and drove it into Sidekick’s torso, ripping a scream from the other.

“Damn, I really thought we would get along,” Villain hummed, “Welp! See you around kid,,, or not,” Villain giggled before running off to the shadows who engulfed their figure- leaving Sidekick by themself.

Sidekick was gasping for breath, shaking hands pressing down onto their wounds as they broke down into sobs, god, they were pathetic.

Rustling from a nearby bush made Sidekick flinch, only further upsetting their wound as they whimpered. “Ple-please, Villain, I-I swear I don't kno-”

“Sidekick?”

Sidekick’s eyes blew open, “Hero?!”

The hero ran over kneeling beside their sidekick as their face contorted in guilt, “Oh, bud… I'm so sorry…” They took in their sidekick who lay on the ground, sweat coating their face and hair, skin paler than usual and blood everywhere.

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay, buddy.” 

Sidekick whimpered and nodded, leaning into the gentle touch in their sweat-soaked hair, “Hu-hurts..”

“I know… I know, I’ll make it stop hurting soon, we just need to bring you back the the HQ, alright”? Sidekick nodded slowly, their eyes fluttering closed but they opened them back up at Hero’s voice, “Heyhey, don’t be falling asleep on me, it would be one boring car ride back without you talking to me.” 

They both shared a laugh but Sidekick winced as their wound filled with fire. Hero gulped before they held up five of their fingers, “Hey, how many fingers am I holding up, bud?”

Sidekick squinted up as they tried to focus their vision on Hero’s hands, “Fff-fi-five?”

“Yeah! Good job! That’s how many sweets I’ll give you when we get home, got it?” Sidekick smiled and nodded, “Th’nk you..” They were going to be alright… but Villain’s words still cut deep into their heart. They were weak…

[lovebugism]

BUG WRITES CUSTOMIZED FICS !

hi there! feel like getting a personalized love story with your favorite character written by your favorite broke college student, (*cough cough*) me? then you're in the right place!

--- i've been thinking about doing this for a while now, and since i'm nearing graduation (*repulsive garbage disposal cough*), i figured there's no time like the present!

with that being said, i am now writing private personalized fics for stranger things, marvel, ted lasso, and star wars for those who send in donations! i've tried to answer as many questions about this whole debacle as i can below!

here is my tip jar, and here is the link to the google form.

    ✶   MORE DETAILS BELOW THE CUT!    ✶  

q: well, how does this whole thing even work? a: i've created a fillable form here that goes through everything i'll need to write for you (plot/character description, payment, etc.). i should note here that i only accept donations through venmo and ko-fi, since that's what works best for me at the moment! please do not send your request as an ask, because it will get lost!

q: what exactly do you mean by private fics? a: instead of posting the personalized fic directly onto my tumblr, i will ship it right to you in the form of a google doc! since it is private, i only ask that you do not repost it on any other site (tumblr, ao3, etc.) this little love story is for your eyes and your eyes only!

q: who are you gonna write for then? a: my speciality as of right now is eddie munson and steve harrington. however, i'm expanding my horizons specifically for those who donate! with that being said, i will write for any stranger things character, as well as marvel, ted lasso, and star wars character (as long as said character is of age, of course!)

q: .......what about smut? a: yes, i will be writing smut! it will cost extra ($2 USD) because it's a little harder to write and takes a bit longer do, so please keep that in mind! (also, please note that i won't write for noncon, watersports, or violence-related scenarios. but other than that, feel free to go wild!)

q: what's it gonna cost me though? a: the cost varies depending on word count, as you'll see in the form. the pricing is as follows: ⋆ ~100 words – $1 ⋆ 200-999 words – $3 ⋆ 1,000-1,999 words – $5 ⋆ 2,000-4,999 words – $10 ⋆ 5,000+ words – $20

q: and how do the donations work exactly? a: as stated previously, i accept donations through venmo and ko-fi. you can check the pricing above, donate your preferred amount, and then fill out the form accordingly. so for example, if you donate $5, that will be a 1k word fic -- but remember, if you want a 1k word fic with smut, that will be an extra $2, so $7 in total). the payment is upfront, so if that makes you uncomfortable, shoot me an ask and we can work something out! if i have trouble writing your request or the writing time is longer than expected, refunds will be issued! also, if i happen to go over the word count you selected, you will not be charged extra.

q: and how will i receive my personalized love story? a: your fic will be sent to your messages as a google doc link. after your payment, i will send you the initial draft of your request in 1-10 days (depending on the length of your fic). after receiving your modifications (if any), i'll send you the final draft (again, to your tumblr messages, as a google doc link).

q: is there a limit to how many donations i can send in? a: no! feel free to send in as many as requests as you fancy! just remember to donate for each form you submit!

  ✶ WHO I'LL WRITE FOR !

--- keep in mind this is not a definitive list, just the characters i feel most comfortable writing for! if your character is not on this list, shoot me an ask before donating just to make sure!

stranger things:

eddie munson

steve harrington

robin buckley

nancy wheeler

jonathan byers

argyle

jim hopper

murray bauman

marvel:

bucky barnes

loki laufeyson

helmut zemo

yelena belova

kate bishop

steve rogers

ted lasso:

jamie tartt

roy kent

will kitman

ted lasso

star wars:

poe dameron

kylo ren

din djarin

rey

finn

han solo

obi-wan kenobi

well, i think that's about it... if there's anything else you're unsure about, my ask box/messages are always open! i can't wait to write for you guys (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[alenseress]

No actually let me explain the whole au because it's like a horrible y2k drama series. It somewhat follows the lore but with sci-fi tuned down a bit for the popstar drama

So, here Murdoc is trans and hides it from the public because he's Murdoc, and Noodle is either related to him or is his kid or something but instead of her canon origin she gets dropped off on Murdoc by someone from his past and he's stuck with her. He's bonkers in the head and horrible but there's like

Some minimal amount of trying and single parenting

Somewhere in the big in-band drama and many of Murdoc's disappearances he runs into Ace trying to start his big stage music gig and plays the evil producer man for him. Pretty, like, stereotypically, Ace's like 25, somewhat broke, somewhat silly, and Murdoc is well in his 30s, rich and insane. The problem is that Ace matches his bonkers energy perfectly and while Murdoc is in denial and "I'm just shaging my mentee like any other big musician" delusion Ace just wraps him around his finger. He's shameless about them, too, public and unapologetic and Murdoc doesn't even notice how he goes from producer man to Ace's groupie in public's eye. At some point reality and Ace's commitment catch up to him and he just runs for dear life, in love and pathetic and making everyone's lives 10x worse for next years

They go on and off their entire lives. Murdoc completely off the rails, Ace as his generally easy-going, kind, chill counterpart. He likes Murdoc for his brain and rare genuine affection, Murdoc is completely gone for him

So they just grow older, tired and less violent and Ace just never goes completely out of sight