#i like that they were actually kinda voice acting instead of just using their normal voices

[dagmartoons]

Oh my God.

It

looked

OKAY

[cryptidghostgirl]

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader

Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)

Word Count: 2,411

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.

Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.

There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.

Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.

When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.

The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.

----

Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.

A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.

“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”

There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.

“Say that again.”

Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.

“How may I be of use?”

The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.

“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”

His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.

“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”

Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.

“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.

The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.

Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.

“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”

“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.

Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”

Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.

It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.

“Y/n?”

“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.

Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.

“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”

“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”

“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”

“I know.” she responded almost immediately.

“No, y-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”

Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”

“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.

“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide.

“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”

“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”

“I loved you. I still do.”

Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.

“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.

Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.

“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”

A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.

“Al, I have to go.”

“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”

As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.

“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”

A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.

“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”

He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”

“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”

Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.

“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”

“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.

“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.

Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.

“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”

As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.

“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.

Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.

“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.

“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”

——

Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

[ashipiko]

—NIKO CIMARRON

All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: October 24

Height: 176cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)

Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Likes: Making a profit

Dislikes: Getting outsmarted

Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things

Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot

Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

YUU’S INTERVIEW:

— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —

for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.

There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.

> You know what I’m here for, Niko.

> Why are you surprised?

No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…

It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡

> I think it matches your vibe.

> You’re one to talk.

Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.

…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.

> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.

> (…They’re cuter than expected.)

Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.

It’s about time to start though, huh?

> Yeah.

> No more wasting time.

INTERVIEW: START!

1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?

A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.

> No thanks.

> Why not?

They’re tasty, I prommie~.

2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?

Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.

3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?

Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.

If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?

Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.

4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?

Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.

If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.

5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?

Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!

> Not the focus of the question.

> That’s not…!

It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡

> Again, no thanks.

> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.

Keep me in mind~.

6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?

…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.

> You are annoying, but…

> (Would it be mean to say something?)

I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.

Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.

…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡

> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.

> Really, it’s fine, Niko…

Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡

Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?

> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.

> (That was a quick turnaround.)

…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.

INTERVIEW: END!

> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)

> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.

He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.

He can be considered a fan of Vil.

Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.

Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.

Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.

He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.

Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.

Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.

Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.

Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.

More to be added!

[ohno-the-sun]

Spoiler heavy fnaf ruin dlc rant up ahead

I am so fucking proud of steal wool they really took every criticism from the original game and fixed it and even added more

Like Cassie actually acts like a human being?? And like her knowledge of the original characters and cute little comments on every item are so endearing there is so much detail going into this.

The fact that they expanded on one of the fan faves Roxanne and giving her a great arc I’m in love I’m so happy

They honestly gave more depth to all the animatronics too like we finally see Bonnie’s design and get and get a taste as to what happened, also that poster Freddy gifted him I’m crying they are so cute and gay I love them

😭😭😭

Also the whole dark ride section with Monty is so fascinating like is that narrative kind of true or is it just fabricated by fazbear inc to cover up the decommissioning of Bonnie

Why replace Bonnie with Monty?? Why not make a new Bonnie model?? With the prototype label on Freddy it may be confirmed that they make multiple models (well we already kinda knew that with Freddies comments but oh well)

Also Freddy?? Like is that our Freddy or a different one?? They very clearly highlighted the prototype label so they want to emphasize it, but then the head is still missing like in the princess quest ending so what is the truth??

Feel bad for chica fans tho she really was sidelined hard

Aaaaa and my baby boys!!! There’s 3 now aaahaga

I was really not expecting eclipse to be the way they were, very… normal? Is that the right word?? Like obviously a little delusional on when the daycare is gonna open again, but in the right mindset of like this child needs to leave this place is not safe. It is interesting to me that both he and Roxy thought that it was Cassie’s birthday, maybe that was the last day before she left the plex? Or maybe that was the day the plex caught fire? Or maybe most depressingly we are playing on Cassie’s birthday so the animatronics have it in their systems what her birthday is and wish her a happy one (if they are in the right state of mind lol)

Some peeps are upset moon is a little too villainous

I think you can still say it was mainly the virus but I would argue even if it’s not the virus I feel like moon is kinda justified here. Like sun has been shutting him away for a long time before this (if the books are to be believed but also in general) so when he finally gets a chance to roam free of course he’s gonna take it. And idk about u but if my alternate personality was constantly trying to shut me out and I finally got control, I probably too would try and keep my control for as long as possible. Also from what I have seen so far, not even moon is all that aggressive? Like he grabs you at the beginning, but I think that’s just his very ineffective way to get kids to sleep and other than that he just kinda stays away

Poor sunny baby is stuck in the ar world 🥺🥺 I didn’t notice at first but yeah everytime you talk to him it’s only in the ar world. And the end part where you switch them out for eclipse if you do that in the ar world, he says not for me it’s for moon.

I will say though I noticed the voice acting for them changed a little this game, like both have a higher pitch and are more goofy sounding? Like more gremlin energy than evil villainy. I wonder if that was on purpose? Both of them sounded more like the other so maybe that was the reason? Interest interest

Also their mouth moves?? Sort of?? That’s so silly to me they have a whole working mouth system and their face mask doesn’t work with at all 😭

Does give me lore intrigue tho cause like why do their mouths move but not anymore?? Did something happen?? Are they just not maintained enough?? They also move outward instead of up and down (at least from what I saw) so is the mechanism different?

Also the way that sun and moon talk about eachother is so interesting. Like moon says the light hurts “us” and sun says “no the other me” like they seem to almost consider eachother more connected than we first thought, like they’re not just coworkers or strangers they are almost like two sides of the same person. It’s very interesting and I wonder where people will take this.

Overall great job I’m so excited to comb through the game and find every little secret (especially regarding the dca) aaaa

Ok ok update moon does have a jump scare but it’s ridiculously hard to get and I’d still argue he’s not as vicious as he was base game. I mention in another post but eclipse being as kind as he is and being (presumably) a combination of both AIs, gives even more evidence moon is supposed to be kind and caring like his posters suggest but something went wrong. Also Cassie’s comments on their plushes show that there were kids who truly liked the daycare.

[spicyspiders]

Can you do a smutty lil fic with m reader who has thighs so thicckqq that the pants they where cause rashes? I’m struggling myself and it kinda sounds weird. With konig pls. Don’t need to reply

Why'd you type thick like that?😭Also, I hope you don't mind but I switched the story up a bit and made it so that the reader wears a tight uniform on missions, but out of uniform they started wearing shorts and their thighs distract König.

"König," you said after you entered your room, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. You were used to König being a little strange, hell, everyone on base was a little strange, but it's been days.

König's head snaps up from the book he was reading to look in your direction. It wasn't strange for the man to be reading a book, but what was was how many times you'd caught him looking at your thighs. You didn't mind him looking at your body, but you found it suspicious how quickly he would look away, like he was afraid of being caught.

"Yes?" He asked as he closed the book and placed it beside him. His voice was small. You hated when he sounded like that, you always wanted to make sure the man was okay.

"You're acting strange."

"I am?" He asked, his eyes going down to look at the skin on display from your shorts. You let out a huff when his eyes went back to your face, and his eyes went wide.

"You are. What's wrong?" You asked as you sat down beside him.

He was quiet for what felt like a long time before he answered with a question of his own, "why're you wearing those?" He asked, gesturing to your shorts. He put a hand out like he was going to touch them, but caught himself before he quickly pulled it away.

"My shorts?" You asked, looking down at them.

"They are distracting."

"My shorts?" You questioned, before letting out a laugh of disbelief. "My shorts are distracting?"

"No!" He answers, frustrated. His hands were balled at his sides, and you quickly picked up on where his frustration stemmed from: himself.

"Hey," you said softly, "it's okay," you placed a hand down onto his in comfort. You waited for him to find the words he actually meant as you ran your fingers along his hand.

König didn't speak until his hands relaxed, "your body distracts me. Your thighs."

It only took a few seconds for it all to connect. You normally wore sweatpants and a shirt to relax around the base after missions. For the past few days, however, you instead wore a pair of shorts to keep your body cool, fearful of a head rash breaking out over your body. There wasn't much you could do about your uniform, but you at least could control what you wore out of it.

"You don't need to hide from looking at them," you said. You took one of his hands and placed it right at the edge of your shorts in the middle of your thighs. "I don't wear them to distract you," smirking as König blushed, "but you can touch them all you want."

"All I want?" König questioned, looking up at you in awe as you sat up on your knees.

"All you want," you whisper.

König pulls your shorts down slowly before he leans down onto his forearm. His warm breath puffs onto your skin, which felt much more sensitive after you decided to shave certain areas of your body would help keep away the heat. You weren't sure if it actually helped yet, but it damn sure felt good when König ran his tongue along your smooth skin.

His tongue runs along your skin, getting it wet with his spit. It almost feels like the water from the shower you were just in, but this one was much more enjoyable, if also a little gross with all of the spit.

You gasp when König adds his teeth into the mix to bite marks into your skin. Your cock had already begun to fatten up from his tongue, but with the added pleasure of his teeth, your cock had grown fully hard. It bobbed in the air, hard and angry for König to take care of.

"Good boy," you murmured down at the man as he took your cock into the wet cavern of his mouth. Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his pants, before they went back to watch the ways König's lips stretched around your cock.

You made a note in your head to get König a pair of shorts that matched your own and to see how distracting they actually were. You just hoped you could remember to do so as your mind went blank from the pleasure König's mouth brought ran through your body.

[bbunivxrse]

AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 

“no.” 

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 

“what?? n-“ 

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future In You | 2.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, requited love but they’re idiots your honour, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications

…

A little past 1am, legs stretched out ahead of you, draped across Bradley’s legs. Some old straight to TV movie playing, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Bradley loudly voices his complaint as he picks up a m&m that had been thrown at his forehead.

He’s in just a pair of shorts, his hair dry now and his curls a little shorter than normal. Navy regulations. You kind of miss the length that he used to have on the back and sides, but this look suits him too.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who fucked my roommate.” You shrug, mock-nonchalantly, and pretend to focus back on the movie in front of you. It’s some dumb story of a small town cowboy.

In the mood for dramatics tonight, Bradley throws his head back and groans.

“Before I even met you!” He chides, sitting forwards and snatching the candy from you before you have opportunity to turn any more of them into projectiles.

“Then you texted her after you’d already knocked me up.” You remind him, playfully calm.

“Ah, ah — She texted me, it’s not like I would’ve fucked her again — and let’s not forget that you had a whole boyfriend until you were in your second trimester.” Bradley points out.

“And stop saying knocked up. Makes me feel weird.” Grumbling like a discontented teenager, Bradley nudges your leg with his so that you have to look at his face and see his little frown.

All of that seems so far away now. Ryan. Your roommates, who you’ll probably never see again. Christmas with your family. You’ve barely even thought about it all since you got here.

“I’m sorry, Bradley — how should I be phrasing it?” You tease.

His lips tug at the corners, threatening to disrupt his dramatic frown and disarm his little act. A small shrug of those broad, tanned shoulders.

“All those couples at the parenting class keep saying ‘when we found out we were expecting’. That works.”

“Mm, but when I found out I was expecting I cried for three days and when you found out you implied that I was a whore and offered me money. Our story doesn’t really sound like theirs’.” You remind him. He presses his lips together in a line. That feels so far away now too.

He remembers the anger he felt towards you back then, which is a complicated thing in itself. He remembers why, and how — and everything about that first week, actually. He remembers being so furious at you for making that choice without him. A complete stranger, complicating his future when he had just stepped out of his complicated past.

The anger still makes sense to him. He doesn’t feel it anymore, he isn’t proud of the way he acted, but he can look back now and know that it was all just fear.

Going from being a scared little boy and looking after a sick mother, to being an adult and having nothing to care for but himself, to then meeting you. It hadn’t felt fair to have that all stripped away before he had started it.

But now, when he thinks of this living room being empty, or that small room being an office instead of a nursery, it makes this all seem so much more bleak.

The movie credits roll, leaving you even more confused about what the plot was supposed to be. Bradley sits up and pushes himself onto his knees, then parts your legs for him to dip between. You’re sighing softly now, contented as he presses his lips to yours.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” He mumbles against your mouth, making you chuckle softly against him. “And I’m glad that I knocked you up, for the record.”

Another soft chuckle. He presses his lips warmly to your skin. Cheeks, jaw. A gentle tour of your face.

“You are?”

“Yeah, you’re hot pregnant,” Bradley beams at you, earning himself another little laugh. “And — y’know, I’m excited for the kid too.”

Looking up at him, your fingers circle over his smooth, freckled shoulders. A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before a commercial comes on and disturbs the bliss.

“Time to put the baby to bed, don’t you think?” He asks. You glance down at your swollen stomach and back up at your new boyfriend. Smiling at him, you give a defiant shake of your head.

“We aren’t tired.” You decide.

A soft groan and he cups your belly in his hands, feeling soft fluttering kicks to unfortunately support your claims. Smile growing into an embarrassingly amused beam, you watch Bradley as he pushes your shirt up and peppers kisses across your stomach.

“Tell him to give his old man a break, some of us have to be up in a couple hours,” Bradley murmurs into your skin, earning himself an applause of his new favourite sound. He looks up grinning at your laughter. “What?”

“You, being somebody’s old man,” A quick scrunch of your nose and a shake of your head, laughter still bubbling through you. “Weird to think about.”

His cheeks redden like the tops of his ears, then he grins. Sitting back on his heels, his hands slide along your stomach to rest at the very bottom. Again, he feels a soft little kick against his palm.

“Y’know, I think he’s nocturnal. I barely felt him this morning and now he’s wide awake.” You explain.

Another shrug, smiling as he leans down and kisses your stomach once more. “Wanted to stay up and watch a movie with his folks.” Bradley muses, making you smile. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his fluffy, air-dried curls. His lips press warmly to the underside of your belly, “No harm in that.”

Fingers trailing from his auburn curls, down over the tanned muscles in his shoulders as he peppers kisses across your stomach.

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger already. Old man.” You tease, nudging at his leg with your foot. He chuckles softly, cool breath tickling your skin. Another kiss, then he looks up at you.

“Me? — Mama’s the one letting him stay up late.” Bradley prods, sitting up and bringing his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is slow, lazy, his hand cupping your hip. When he leans over you now, your stomach always bumps into his middle. He’s going to miss it when it isn’t there anymore.

Turning his head, he presses his face into your neck and nips softly at your skin. You hum, keening towards the feeling. It becomes growingly tender, lips replacing teeth, tongue soothing over the warm spots left behind.

Finally, he sits back up and kisses your lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“You can go ahead, I won’t wake you up.” You promise.

“I know, but I like falling asleep with you.” He squeezes softly at your hips, remembering to be gentle with your sore joints these days. He sits forwards and kisses your mouth again, then again after that. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to stop until you agree.

Pushing against his bare chest, he sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Fine…” You huff, extending your arms for him. Slipping his hands into yours, he’s on his feat with an annoying level of ease that you can no longer manage. He tugs you up with him.

“I’ll lock up.” Ducking around you and kissing your neck, he leaves you with a gentle pat on the ass and then moves to make sure all of the doors and windows are locked and that the lights are off. You pad along the hallway to your shared bedroom and peel your shirt over your head.

Over the past month, you seem to have really popped. The kid is really making himself known in there. Enough so, that you’re well into the stage now of wearing exclusively maternity clothes or stretching out Bradley’s old gym clothes. Tonight, given the lingering heat, you opt for an old basketball shirt that Bradley hasn’t fit into since high school. Before he grew a foot and lost eighty pounds in his junior year.

It’s not huge on you at this stage of your pregnancy, but gives you the reprieve of a waistband pressing into your stomach.

Bradley’s chest hits your back before you even feel him approaching, turning his face into the crook of your neck, almost knocking you over with his weight.

His hands skim under the shirt and up over your stomach, making an all-too-familiar beeline for your breasts. He groans softly into your skin, growing half-hard against your back.

“Mm-mm,” You’re smiling and shaking your head at him all at once. “You need to go to bed, remember?”

“Fuck,” He breathes out, eyes closed, soft skin under his palms. If he pressed any harder into your back, he would knock you onto your front. “I do.”

Your palm slips between the two of you, reaching back to cup him over his shorts, stroking just loosely over the length of his hardening cock.

“Would be pretty difficult to sleep with that, though.”

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbles into your neck, kneading softly at your breasts. He rolls his hips forwards slightly, using your hand for friction on his increasingly hard cock.

“Are you flying tomorrow?” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, his lips sucking softly at the curve of your neck. His realization courses through him like relief, you can practically feel it.

His head shakes quickly. “In a classroom all day.”

Your palm squeezes softly around the tent in his shorts, a quiet hum, mock consideration, leaving your lips. His hands push at the shirt, slowly dragging it up your middle and tugging it over your head.

His eyes feel heavy on you, hands trailing featherlight along your sides. Bradley reached out slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he takes hold of the band in your hair. He’s especially gentle as he takes it down and turns his face towards your hair.

Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside table, Bradley’s becoming increasingly gentle with you — each time that you’ve slept with him recently, you can feel that he’s being more careful than he would normally be. He knows that you’re sore and more tired than you would normally be, but he never once declines the opportunity to have you.

Today is no exception as he turns you towards him, palms skimming along your back, squeezing at your ass as he holds you against him. Laying you down slowly on your shared bed, he notices your lips quirk softly as he covers your body with his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You give a small shake of your head and lift to kiss him, still smiling when you pull back. He squints at you, studying the amusement on your features. It just makes you want to smile, is all. Him being so wordlessly soft; knowingly gentle. It doesn’t take a conversation or a warning. He knows your limits.

He knows you so well these days. The kind of shampoo or deodorant to pick up. Exactly which spots to press his fingers harder into when he’s giving you a foot rub. Exactly how to make you scowl at him and melt into his arms moments later when he’s being annoying. Your chest heaves with a particularly deep breath.

Bradley’s lips are on your chest, his hands skimming along your thighs, kneading at the flesh.

“Tell me you want me.” It’s a pant, really, just breathless. He rocks himself against your core, sitting back on his knees and squeezing at your hips. He takes that plush, pink bottom lip between his teeth and just stares down at you with the prettiest mahogany coloured eyes you’ve ever seen.

Teasing at an almost smile, you bite the inside of your cheek to contain it. A soft shake of your head and he smiles back at you. You glance down, watching him palm over the tent in his shorts. Finally, you meet his gaze once more. “I don’t think your ego can handle being any bigger than it already is.”

“It can take a little more,” Bradley hums. He exhales, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watches his ring and index fingers dip through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digits. “Tell me you want me.”

You do. So badly that it makes you hot. Makes your muscles go tense. Makes your chest tighten.

“I want you,” It’s an admission that you never would’ve given him months ago, weeks ago even. There’s a lot about you now isn’t the same as it was a few months ago. It’s right on the tip of your tongue. I love you. It’s insane — terrifying, actually. You swallow and stick to what you know, “I want you.”

It would slip so effortlessly off of your tongue. When he’s buried into you, breathing hard into your ear, your face buried into the curve of his neck and god — he still smells exactly like him, now mixed with your body wash that he’s adamant he doesn’t steal. So natural, just another breathless, meaningless exhale in the middle of sex.

“You feel so good,” Bradley groans out, his thick fingers sliding along the nape of your neck and up into your hair. He curls them into your roots and flexes his fist just softly. Just the right amount of tug, a gentle pull that has you moaning against his jugular. “Fuck, baby… you…”

He turns his head, lips grazing your jaw and working lazily along to your lips. When he gets there, finally, it feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. He kisses you slowly, his tongue in your mouth and his hand in your hair. In your shared bed.

The mattress is softer here and he never wakes up with a sore neck because of the shitty pillows. Sometimes he wakes up with a sore neck because of how his body is wound around yours, but he doesn’t mind that as much. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you slowly.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

A breath catches in your throat and you aren’t sure whether it’ll turn into a laugh or a cry. Ultimately, it settles into a soft moan, your breath tickling his earlobe and making him shiver. Then, it becomes a laugh. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at that grin on your face.

Stretching out his shoulders, he guides your thighs over the tops of his. He gives them a soft squeeze and slows down a little, giving a breathless nod. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect, just like this.”

He wets his lips with his tongue, eyes trailing ever so slowly along your body, rocking his hips forwards tenderly. Briefly, you think that he’s going to say it. It doesn’t happen. Just more expletives, shallow breaths, eager grunts. More kisses, his hands on your skin.

After, when you’re settled into his old basketball shirt, under your sheets, and he is wrapped around your body from behind, his big palm sprawled out over your stomach — you’re okay with it. The silent knowledge that he must be on the same page.

The next morning, he has to be up before the sun is even halfway risen. He’s growing proficient at doing it without waking you. Showering silently and dressing in the bathroom, laying his clothes out the night before. It always makes you stir when he slips back into the room and leaves you with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a soft peck at the top of your rounded stomach. Still, you’re okay with that too.

You squirm a little, laying back against that perpetually uncomfortable plastic-leather mix exam chair. The gel is a lot more uncomfortable when you’re still hot from the mid-day Florida heat than it had been on those snowy mornings back in Virginia. Still, it’s all routine by this point. The cold jelly on your stomach, comfy pants that can easily be pushed down a little, warm sweater to combat the always high air conditioning.

You’re missing the part of your routine that has always made you comfiest: Jake sitting outside in the waiting room. He’s states away, Bradley’s stuck in work, you’re all on your own. It’s just a routine check up — just to check if he’s breach. You’ve been telling yourself that all morning. It hasn’t stopped you from sitting on the carpeted floor of his nursery and staring at his crib, still in the box.

Your heart swells at the idea of meeting him. You’ve been picturing him a lot recently. Your nose, Bradley’s lips. Soft morning cuddles, sleepless nights, constant diaper changes — it’s easy enough to tell yourself that you’re ready, it’s just more of a complicated thing to be certain that you are. Even if you’re not ready, he’ll be here in a few short weeks. You need to remind Bradley to pick up screws for his crib.

The doctor’s brows knit together, she adjusts her glasses and wiggles the wand a little bit, then looks back to you. “Hm, have you been experiencing reduced movement at all, Miss Seresin?”

The question throws you. Blinking at her, chilled from the whir of the air conditioning, you shake your head. Your throat squeezes. “No, not at all. He was kicking a lot last night.”

Both of you look back to the screen. He’s moving now. Little legs just kicking softly in that familiar black and white hue. A quick glance across, you stare at your sweater on the chair where Bradley should be sitting. It’s too cold in here. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to move to get the sweater.

“Hm,” She nods her head slowly. Her face is calm enough, her tone doesn’t give you any clues. The thought that crosses your mind hits you like a speeding semi. Blunt force, speeding — out of left field. Six and a half months of no contact and all of a sudden, sitting alone in this exam room, too cold, you want your Mom.

It’s clear that you’re panicking, and the doctor continues with as much caution as she can. She speaks to you like she’s trying to soothe a crying child, but it isn’t patronising. Her neatly groomed brows raise at you, “Any fatigue, bleeding, stomach pains?”

“I’ve been tired, I guess.” You squeak. She softens, reaching out and placing her hand into yours. Your throat tightens. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s just looking a little bit smaller than we would have expected for this stage in the pregnancy,” Your heart sinks, and the side of the exam table suddenly feels especially empty without Bradley there. The doctor continues on as comfortingly as she can. “I’d just like to run a few tests while you’re here — just to make sure that we’re prepared to make the end of your pregnancy as safe and comfortable as possible.”

As she turns and leaves you trapped in that little grey room with the closed blinds, shutting out any semblance of sunlight, all that you can think about is the first appointment that Bradley ever came to with you. Everything going on back then and how badly you had wanted him to not even show up. How confusingly nice it had felt to have him holding your hand through it. Your head falls back against the exam chair and your eyes burn with tears.

You leave the office with a pamphlet on fetal growth restriction, potential causes and side-effects. It might not be that, she tells you, some babies are just smaller and that’s just fine. They just want to keep a close eye on you these last few weeks. Early delivery is a possibility.

You’re dialing the number out of pure instinct. Flowing tears, running to Mommy — there’s a natural link there. Some kind of hardwired impulse, probably. Chest heaving, blinking back searingly hot tears, you listen to it ring and ring. It’s just a Wednesday morning, maybe she’s at the office. It just keeps on ringing.

Bradley frowns as he listens to the busy dial tone, pulling back and checking his phone. You’d promised to call him when you got out of the appointment. He checks down at his watch. Maybe Jake got a couple of minutes to call you. He has to be back in class. He texts you that he’ll catch you at home and turns.

If his mind were clearer, he might have noticed the stare on him as he turned. The familiar blue eyes, blown wide open. Maverick pales at the sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. Familiar sandy brown curls, a brief look at Bradley’s face. The mustache he had been trying to grow when Mav saw him last has grown in now. Maverick swallows.

He hasn’t seen this kid in almost two years. Not a single phone call or text. He hadn’t even known where Bradley was living after he moved out of the house in Norfolk. And now he’s here, standing at the end of a hallway in a random Navy base that Mav wasn’t even supposed to be at this week. Dressed in his khakis, he’s a kind of familiar that makes Pete Mitchell’s stomach churn.

“Bradley?”

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @marvel-f1-and-more @heli991113 @pauv-0414 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm334 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlovq @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutfordw

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— WHERE IS MY MIND?

SUMMARY : thinking dean is being annoying with his friendship with crowley. purposely teasing dean and leaving him wanting more, acting like nothing happened.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), the mark of cain, fluff, lots of teasing, sexy use of handcuffs and belts?, attempted anal play (fem. receiving, I thought I could, but sadly, it’s not my thing 😭)

WORD COUNT : 7.7K

A/N : title from the Pixies because that song is a vibe. inspired by BTS, doctor who, muse, coldplay, and obviously by watching this damn season lmao X

“How’s your new boyfriend?” Y/N asked, thumbing the spinning shark head on her blue pen as she stared at a newspaper. She didn’t look up at him, she didn’t have to. She could sense him, she could feel the way her skin tingled the way it always did when he was around. Like two planets, they were drawn to each other, fated by the physics of the universe to belong together, to stay close until they died and the universe became cold and empty with endless death.

Dean froze when he entered the dark library and heard her voice. He looked over at the small lamp Y/N was using to read the newspaper in the dark, the constant whirring of the pen as she twirled it sounded louder than it actually was in the quiet of the night.

“Stop that,” he grunted. She finally looked up at him and raised a brow, her eyes mostly mischievous rather than angry. He placed his duffle bag down on the table next to her scattered papers, their eyes locked on each other’s — asserting dominance.

“Stop this?” She asked, her thumb sliding along the spinning shark head so that the whir continued, and he clenched his jaw at her, his eyes narrowing at her calm face.

His eyes travelled over her beautiful face, analysing the warmth of her dilated eyes, to the blush on her cheeks, and the way her chest was rising a little faster than normal. He reached over and wrapped his fingers around hers to stop her and she blinked at him, an innocent smile tugging at her rosy lips, her eyes becoming wide like a little deer.

“Stop saying Crowley’s my lover,” he told her, his voice deep and threatening. He could read the playfulness in her eyes, the challenge as she lifted her chin just slightly, a smirk growing on her kissable lips now that she knew she had him trapped.

“Give me my pen,” she said calmly, tugging gently under his warm, thick fingers, but he only tightened his grip. She completely ignored him when he refused, turning away to read the newspaper, her hand still trying to pull out of his electric hold. “I dreamt about you and woke up dripping wet, which was nice,” she said nonchalantly, pretending to be distracted as she read the obituary of some old lady.

He blinked down at her, his fingers squeezing her hand which made her eyebrows rise, but she moved her attention to another boxed article instead of reacting. Still, a smile tugged at her lips and her breaths got quicker, like his, she noticed. “Kinda disappointing that you were too busy fucking around with Crowley to take care of that for me, had to take matters into my own... hands.”

He let go of her warm hand and she acted casually, as if she hadn’t just admitted to masturbating earlier today in their shared bed. Her pen touched the paper to circle something interesting and he growled her name softly at her irritating behaviour. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Can I help you?” She asked, looking up at him innocently. Her eyes examined his face now, moving from his angry, creased eyebrows, to his green eyes, now clouded with lust and annoyance. Breaths were shallowly escaping from his beautiful nose, his lips were wet with his saliva and pink from biting them. She licked her own at the sight of their puffy state, and bit her lip at his stubble, remembering the tickle of the coarse little hairs of his jaw between her thighs.

She squeezed her legs instinctively when her cunt began to feel the echoes of pleasure from his tongue. Her eyes fluttered back up to his and she smiled sweetly, leaning forward to catch his lips in a kiss quicker than he could react, then she pulled away just as he was melting into it.

“I’m gonna shower now that I know you’re safe.” She put her pen down and he stood there, speechless, watching her fold the newspaper. “You know, since you were too entertained with your new friend to call or text to let me know you’re fine, or coming home late, at least.” She neatly organised her papers and he glared at her, his face hot with arousal and frustration. “You can join me, if you’d like, unless you already did that with Crowley. too,” She stood up, taking her cardigan off the chair, and finally looked up at his locked jaw. A grin spread over her lips and she made her way past him for only a few inches before he grabbed her arm firmly to stop her.

“You’re getting on my nerves,” he told her, his hot voice thick with desire and irritation. She turned around to face him and narrowed her eyes at him despite the warmth that pooled between her legs.

“You’re getting on mine,” she whispered, weakly tugging away from him. He grasped her tighter, then pulled her forward until she was pressed against his firm and warm body.

“Sit. Down,” he whispered harshly. When she didn’t listen, he manhandled her until she was turned around, and kicked the chair out with his foot for her to sit in. “Sit.”

She huffed out a defiant breath, pulling her arm out of his grip, “No.”

“Have it your way,” he growled, taking cuffs with etchings on it out of his black jacket. She looked at his face, incredulous as he took her forearm in his large hand to slap one cuff around her wrist and the other to the chair. “Sit,” he ordered, snatching the cardigan from her to drop over his duffle bag. When she didn’t listen, he gripped her shoulder tightly and he pushed her down until she plopped down on the wooden chair. She pouted at the cuffs and then glared up at him.

“You know, I can easily get out of these,” she informed him, tugging halfheartedly at the cold metal that bound her to the chair.

“So why don’t you?” He smirked, his hand gently wrapping around her throat. She instinctively circled his wrist with her free hand and he moved his to grasp the soft locks at her nape instead.

“I like this chair,” she shrugged, letting him pull her hair to force her head to tip back. He hummed softly, smirking when she hissed at the slight sting in her scalp, leaning forward to peck her lips once. He groaned softly at the spark-like feeling that covered his mouth when it immediately made contact with hers, like stardust scattering over his lips as they brushed against hers.

“Where’s Sam?” He asked softly when he let her hair go. She settled into the chair, watching him lean back to remove his jacket while biting her lip.

“Sleeping,” she replied tonelessly. She stared at his athletic body, entranced by the way he slowly slipped his indigo flannel off to be folded haphazardly over the table with his jacket. He sat on the table and grinned at her, lifting his foot between her slightly parted legs, he slowly undid the knot of his laces and then did the same to the other boot. They fell loudly on the wooden floor when he kicked them off, revealing some adorable banana socks that made her smile softly.

When she lifted her gaze up to his face, she shamelessly admired his body in the black t-shirt, the way it stretched over his chest and broad shoulders, the short sleeves exposing the muscles of his freckled arms. He was gorgeous. More importantly, he was hard. She dropped her eyes between his legs, his crotch practically right in front of her, and she cocked an eyebrow at the tent in his tight jeans. God, they did wonders for his fantastic ass.

She tugged at the cuffs, wanting to free herself of them. He looked down at her wrist and then raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” He asked innocently, using one hand to undo his belt, the other moved one of her rebellious strands of hair into place. She stared at his busy hand, her eyes glittering with excitement the way they always did with his adept skill of being able to remove his belt one-handedly rather fast. She didn’t know if she wanted to squeeze her legs together or spread them apart farther for him. “You’re so quiet,” he murmured, then he slid the belt out of his jean’s loops.

“Is there something you wanna hear, Dean?” She grumbled, her free hand reaching over to palm at his cock over his jeans.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, staring down at her hand, allowing her to touch him just for a few moments. “No touching, you’ve been too annoying tonight,” he grunted. She pouted at him, squeezing his cock defiantly. He moaned, surprised. He took her wrist quickly and used his belt to tie her only freehand to the chair.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

He glared at her and she smiled at him sarcastically, tugging at his belt to test its tightness. The leather creaked with her movement and he grinned.

He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, getting off the table to kick them off completely while looking at her to make sure she was not actually pissed at him. When she smiled at him distractedly, he removed his shirt and she licked her lips at the sight of his flat stomach and the v on his hips that led down to what she secretly wanted most, what was hidden beneath his black boxers. He had the tiniest waist too. Fuck, all those layers of clothes he wore didn’t do his gorgeous body any justice.

She was getting wetter and wetter by the second as she admired him like he was a worshipped sculpture in a museum, created by Michelangelo himself. Her body was slowly becoming warm like a spring sun and her heart was beating rapidly like the beat of a glorious song, excited to see him, to feel him, to get closer to him.

“Dean,” she said firmly. His cock jumped at the way she said his name and he looked at her face with his breath caught in his throat, and then his eyes dropped down to the creaking leather of his favourite belt and over to the clinking chains of the cuffs.

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warned her breathlessly.

She pursed her lips to stop herself from begging and she looked away from him, her eyes sticking to the blue journal Sam got her last Christmas. She didn’t want him to see the pleas in her eyes and she ignored him when he pulled his boxers down slowly. The creaking of leather, the small chains rattling, they gave her away, and she wanted to moan, to rub her thighs together, but she refused.

Her head snapped towards him when he pulled her chair she was sitting in closer to him. The wooden legs squeaked against the floor and she looked down to make sure no marks would be left behind. It would normally piss Dean off to see the wood ruined, but obviously, he could do what he wanted. She narrowed her eyes at him when she looked up at him.

Her gaze reluctantly flickered down to his cock. Even his dick was perfect, it was truly unfair. It stood erect, throbbing, pink, with mouth-watering beads of precum that made her insides quiver. She swallowed thickly and lifted her eyes back up to his stupid, smug face.

“I don’t like you right now,” she pouted, turning away from him.

He chuckled as he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. She kept her lips pressed together, refusing to kiss him back, and didn’t open up when his tongue swiped across the seam, silently asking for permission to enter.

He pulled away and contemplated her body language for a few moments. “Open up,” he told her darkly.

“No,” she pouted. He sighed dramatically, pushing himself off the table and she straightened up, squirming a little when he walked behind her. His fingertips gently brushed over her bare shoulders, the voltage of his touch igniting her skin like the neurons firing in her brain, and she shivered. He reached over for the hair band on the table that she had been playing with earlier and tied her hair into a messy ponytail.

She gripped the arms of the chair, panting a little when he stopped touching her. She could only feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, his nose ghosting along her jaw, and she licked her lips as they became dry with the air that slipped past her parted mouth. His lips brushed against her ear and she bit her lip, her spine tingling at the sensation of having him so close behind her without doing anything. She turned her face slightly to gaze at him and he forced her to look forward, his fingers harshly holding her jaw in place.

“Don’t,” his hushed voice warned.

He walked back around to face her, his eyes trailing over her body. He hummed softly as he looked at the cropped tube shirt she wore. The white, soft cotton covering her chest was convenient for easy removal down her body—like a skirt. And she was wearing a pink jean skirt. He got down on his knees and she blinked down at him, wiggling a little when his fingers undid the silver button at her waist.

“Up,” he told her, tugging the skirt down her hips and she did as she was told, this time. She lifted her hips up off the chair, letting him drag the skirt down her legs and off her completely. He left it with his jeans on the floor and started to pull down the shirt she was wearing that had a little pink heart at the centre. She was wearing a beige strapless bra underneath and he pouted at the sight of it. It made her break her stubborn and bratty character and she smiled at him with amusement.

He removed the shirt slowly, then reached behind her to unclasp the bra and he bit his lip at the sight of her round breasts, a hum of appreciation resounding in his chest. The sound made her shift a little in the chair, he noticed it, his ego absorbing the pleasure of knowing what the smallest things he did did to her.

Her beige panties were haphazardly hanging onto her hips from the amount of times he’d dragged clothes over them and the sight of them aroused him. “You like making things hard for me, don’t you?” He grabbed her knees and pushed them apart, then grabbed her hips and pulled them forward so her ass was barely on the chair.

“Not things,” she rolled her eyes, then very matter-of-factly said, “your cock.” She smiled innocently and he had to laugh. The sound made her eyes soften and she melted a little, a real smile spreading over her face like butter on warm pancakes.

“I don’t think I can keep you tied up for much longer,” he admitted, smiling lovingly at her. He looked away and hooked a finger under her panties to push them aside and look at her pussy.

“Well, sweetheart, I think I quite enjoy being tied up,” she told him offhandedly.

He hummed distractedly, “I can tell.”

He parted her wet folds with two fingers and she squirmed at the cool air of the room that hit her wetness and then his warm breath made her moan. She wanted to shut her legs out of sudden coyness, but his broad shoulders between her parted knees stopped her.

He suddenly flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen clit and she gasped at the little spark of pleasure, her toes curling in her pink ankle boots. Her stomach fluttered and she looked down at him, catching his watchful gaze, and she blushed, her confidence slipping away as light travelling through vacuum space.

He noticed and smirked, nuzzling her thigh with his stubble, then kissing her pelvis. “Dean,” she whispered.

“Where’d my annoying, bratty, little girlfriend go?” He teased, then his mouth returned to her sex. He moved his tongue leisurely, tasting the arousal at her entrance with a moan, dragging his tongue through her folds, up to her clit, until she was panting heavily. He smirked, lazily continuing to massage the swollen little pearl before moving to her entrance again, just to taste her dripping juices. “You’re so wet,” he purred against her, his words muffled from him not moving away from her heat to speak.

“Shit,” she whispered, feeling conflicted on whether to stare at him or close her eyes with her head tipped back.

“Makes it real easy for my big cock to slip inside your tight.. hot.. needy little cunt.” She swallowed a moan, fidgeting with the discomfort of her arousal and the gradual attention he was giving her. He grabbed her ass, lifting it slightly off the chair, and thrusted his tongue into her entrance. Her breath hitched at the warmth inside her and she tightened around his tongue, struggling against the two different materials around her wrists that kept her bound to the chair.

He continued to plunge his tongue in and out of her, imitating the movement his cock made when he fucked her. She wanted to break out and pull his hair as she watched him, he looked too pretty and arrogant between her shaky legs. The sight of him looking at her through his beautiful, curled lashes while his nose nudged her clit made her whine, her face flushed and her skin sweaty from the intensity of his teasing.

He slipped his tongue inside her, pushing as deep as he could, and wiggled it inside her. “What the fuck?” She gasped, moaning out in surprise at the nice sensation. Then, she yelped when his tongue slipped out and he lapped at her asshole. No one had ever done that—and to be fair she did not have a long list of sex partners, there was only Dean in her list of people she’d had sex with, and he’d never done that before. “No!” She squealed, easily lowering her hips, then she pushed the chair away from him as he chuckled.

“You really don’t like that, huh?” He laughed and she smiled, shaking her head bashfully. “Okay, I’ll take note of that,” he murmured, then shuffled closer to her again. She slowly parted her thighs for him, her teeth digging into her lip, as he placed his mouth back on her sex. He parted her folds with two fingers and used his tongue to play with her clit, his tongue brushing between his fingers with each passive stroke of tongue, just to make her squirm again, and she giggled breathlessly.

“Dean,” she moaned. He pulled away at the sound and stood on his knees to kiss her. This time, she opened up to him readily. She didn’t care that he was smearing her arousal onto her lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue as it rolled against hers like soft waves. He dragged his two fingers down to her wet hole, slipping his middle finger inside, pushing in and out gradually. He swallowed her moan, pushing against her lips needily, until they were kissing desperately, wishing to somehow get closer.

“I’m just waiting for you to beg, angel,” he whispered against her lips. He added another finger inside her, scissoring them inside her to prepare her for his cock. His cock which ached and hardened at the feeling of her wetness trickling down his palm and knuckles.

“I don’t do that,” she whispered defiantly. He shook his head, keeping his lips close to hers, brushing like leaves on branches did to each other, their breaths tangling. She felt lightheaded with arousal and she just wanted to eat him up like a Leviathan or something. Wow, loving aggression.

“Suit yourself,” he told her quietly. He slipped his fingers out of her and stood up, using his wet fingers to stroke his painfully erect cock. He pressed his fingers against the throbbing veins of his cock, teasing himself, massaging just underneath the head of his cock, drawing out more precum from the slit. He used his thumb to gather it, then popped his finger into her mouth so she could taste him.

She felt a new wave of wetness exude from her cunt at the taste of him, her cheeks turning warmer, redder, when he cupped the back of her head and lined his cock up with her mouth. Her mouth watered and she willfully opened up for him, letting her hot mouth engulf his heavy cock.

She looked up at him, her eyes pretty, like her red lips that rimmed his cockhead. He moaned down at the sight of her, teasing himself, testing his patience as he pushed only the tip in and out of her mouth. Her tongue teased his slit, circling the frenulum, and lapping at the precum as she drooled around him.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he praised, letting go of his cock, to push more of himself into her. She sucked at him, her tongue slithering along the bottom, moving her head back and forth, she let him guide her.

He dragged his fingers down to her chest, kneading her breasts, squeezing the warm flesh in his large hand. “I bet you’re all achy and wet, you little brat,” he growled, pushing himself all the way down her throat. She choked and made a surprised sound, her teeth brushing gently against his sensitive cock to warn him.

He hissed, pinching her nipple roughly so her throat constricted around him to stop noise from coming out, and he moaned at the feeling. He chuckled at her glare, feeling her knees try to close around his legs as he stood between them. He moaned softly again, pushing in and out of her throat roughly, her throat made obscene sounds as he fucked her face, and he stopped when he felt his orgasm approaching.

Her pretty eyes were tearing up, glassy with tears, her long lashes sticking together from a few tears that were falling from his relentless throat fucking, but she didn’t mind. He brought his hand to her reddened cheek, caressing her hot face, and brushing tears away, losing himself in his lust all at once.

He mercifully unlocked the cuffs from around her wrist and he kissed her deeply. She pulled her mouth away from him and he just stared---a gasp escaping him---as she swiftly used one hand to remove his belt from her wrist. It was faster than his brain could keep up with and before he knew it, she was pushing him into the table, her hand wrapping around his cock to stroke him quickly while her other hand moved to his nape to bring his mouth down to hers again.

He moaned loudly, shamelessly throwing his head back, abandoning her mouth as his lips parted to verbalise his pleasure. “God, I wanna make you cum like this,” she told him quietly.

“I have other plans,” he moaned. Y/N bit her lip as he spoke, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement when he looked down at her. “They involve you, only you,” he whispered and then tensed up, about to cum.

He turned them around so that she could sit on the table, easily hoisting her up with his hands on the curve of her waist, forcing her to let go of his cock all at once. He breathed shakily as his cock twitched, aching and longing to spill at last, inside her or on her heated skin. He groped her sides lovingly, worshipping her body with his big hands, squeezing the fleshy parts until he felt like he could continue without cumming in five seconds.

They both breathed heavily, their skins charged with electricity and sweaty from the heat of their aroused state. She admired him quietly, the flex in his muscles from his effort to regain control and his composure. His touch took her breath away, like his gentle kisses along her fiery skin. She didn’t want to look away from him, or stop touching him either as he mouthed at her neck and bit at her collarbones. His sharp teeth dragging along with his tongue to taste her sweat and the natural flavour of her skin beneath the sheen. His plump lips suctioned at her body, leaving behind territorial marks that he licked at while she dug her nails into his strong body.

He felt weak in the knees holding her. Felt like giving into the intoxicating urge to fuck her with abandon when he heard the soft sounds she made when he touched her, when she pulled at his hair and made him grunt. When she squirmed and dropped her forehead on his shoulder, her chest rising and falling unevenly with stuttered breaths. He made his path down to her breasts. His teeth scraped at her nipples, sucking at the tight buds as she arched into him, inviting him to give her more. He moaned softly, dragging his mouth back up to her face and dropping messy kisses along her jaw until his lips were ghosting over hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She blinked at him, dazed with his love, her mind hazy with thoughts only of him. She held his face in her hands, confused. She didn’t stay confused much longer because he kissed her. The kiss was slow and breathy which made it even hotter. It was the way he panted against her parted lips when he pulled away—just a few millimetres, just for a millisecond, then lazily pulled her close, cupping the back of her head with one of his hands and slipped his tongue back into her mouth.

He held her waist with his other hand, pulling her closer to the edge of the table, moving himself as close as he could between her parted legs, until his hot cock was touching her warm skin. She gave him control of the kiss, melted into him as his velvety tongue swiped over hers, exploring all of her, feeling the familiar space he’d tasted many times before, until he changed the kiss again.

He pecked her lips once they’d closed up a little, and pressed firmly, like a promise. A promise that only he knew, a promise she was unaware of. She felt content, felt the worry and fear of the Mark of Cain slip from her mind when he started to undo her hair again. He was sucking on her bottom lip and tasting the ghostly remains of her favourite lip tint—rose petals—with a satisfied moan.

Once her hair was free again, he moved his hand back to his cock, and pulled away. Her mouth was red, lips swollen and gorgeous, all he wanted to do was kiss her again but he denied himself the pleasure and instead bit his lip. She moved her hands off him, placed her palms on the table and followed his gaze as he watched himself drag his leaking cock through her weeping folds.

Upon contact with her warmth, he moaned. He felt so aroused, when he towered over her, he had to place one of his hands flat on the table close to her hand to stabilise himself. She was writhing slightly, panting each time he brushed against her swollen clit, and he couldn’t even tolerate his own teasing anymore either.

He kissed her forehead like he always did, aligning the tip of his cock with her entrance and slowly pushed into her. He inspected her face to make sure she was good, groaning at the sight of pleasure that dawned on her face as he pushed in just an inch of himself. He withdrew slightly so she could adjust to the pressure and the stretch of him, then shoved in just a little more.

“Umm,” she whimpered, her hand flattening over his sweaty chest was her silent signal that she felt like she couldn’t take him. She could feel the rapid hammering of his heart against her palm and she clenched around him, eyes locking onto his to see past the madness of his lust, a tender fire that devoured everything else like a hungry beast.

He could read it all in her eyes too, her love, the way her adoring gaze blanketed over his entire soul, making him feel so loved and safe. It made his stomach flutter, made him feel like just pushing all the way in—just to feel closer to her. Instead, he brought his hand to her clit, rubbing slowly as he withdrew again and pushed back in, deeper. “You’re taking me so fucking good, baby,” he reassured her, his voice raspy and thick with lust.

The sound of him so wrecked made her shudder, temporarily closing her eyes and leaning back slightly in hopes of getting him inside her more easily. He kept his pace slow, mindful of her body, her limits, the way he always did as he pushed himself into her. He nuzzled her cheek and kissed her jaw, breathing unstably by her ear, “just a little more,” he murmured, looking away from her eyes to check that there was, in fact, just a bit more of his thick length that she had to take.

She stared at him for a few moments, studied the aroused fascination that brightened his honeydew eyes and with demure hesitation, she let herself look down too. She watched him pull out just a little, revealing how wet she left him and she gasped, a flurry of excited butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

It made him look up at her, his eyes knowing, gleaming with pride. He had her right where he wanted her, he always did. He pushed himself into her all the way, still gentle, he leaned over her a little, his arm wrapping around her waist so she’d hold onto him instead of balancing on the table, letting her adjust as he dropped kisses over her shoulders and the side of her neck. The scrape of his stubble tickled, but she found it more sexy than uncomfortable.

She wiggled beneath him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck with one hand flat on the table as she brought his mouth to hers. “I’m okay,” she murmured against his lips. He nodded and moaned softly, moving his two hands under her thighs, lifting her up slightly until she was only able to hold onto him.

He pulled his hips back and thrusted into her, feeling her arms squeeze him slightly. He cursed under his breath, twitching inside her at the feeling of her walls dragging along his cock. His pace was still slow, his breath catching as he felt the velvety ridges of her wet walls tightening around him. Only the head of his cock remained inside her and he pushed in slowly, his breaths shaky and shallow.

“Y/N,” he moaned, placing her back down when his hips were flush against hers. He gently pushed her down onto her back with a hand on her sternum. He slowly slid his hand down to her tummy, his eyes locked on hers, both of them more patient and tender than usual, but he knew the reason why as his arm ached. He lifted her feet up to the table, spreading her out more, pushing himself all the way---deeper---until he could feel her cervix if he swivelled his hips.

“Dean,” she mewled, her lips parted as she tipped her head back, her eyebrows furrowing while her eyes fluttered close. She reached out for his wrists, her hands sliding up until her hand rested over the Mark, squeezing reassuringly. He looked down at her small hand, her lavender nails creating crescent moons as she tried to reach all the way around his arm. “Please, move,” she finally begged, lifting her hips up a little to encourage him.

He admired her the whole time he started to thrust into her. His eyes stuck on her body as she jolted up the table slightly only for his hands to keep her hips planted where they were. Her breasts jiggled, abandoned and covered in small marks from his mouth and he twitched inside her, a grunt leaving his throat. Everything about her turned him on, the way they locked eyes, like a passing meteor getting pulled in by Earth’s gravity, they could only stare at each other.

He loved her so much, he didn’t want to look away. He needed her more than the air he breathed. She was everything to him. The only reason he smiled everyday, the only reason the weight of his guilt and shame didn’t crush him. It was the tenderness of her eyes like a Magellanic Cloud, the way she cut through the darkness in his life like a galaxy hurtling through space.

He, on the other hand, was a dimming and dying galaxy until she collided with him, dragging him along for the ride and perfectly melding into each other so that her stars were his, so that her planets and her suns also belonged to him, so that he could never remember or comprehend where he began or where he ended, only that he’d always find her at the end of his despair and at the start of every joy.

She brought life to him like a sun, terraforming him, blossoming his withering hopes and dreams. Her love for him grew like the universe itself, every moment expanding into the nothingness beyond, utterly unrestricted.

“Fuck, I…” he whispered brokenly. He couldn’t always bring himself to say ‘I love you’ and it frustrated him how awkward the words felt on his tongue, and it’s not like he’s never said them before. It was terrifying, especially in moments like these. It was serious and it was real. And he felt that that was exactly why he should say those words, that in moments like these it’s exactly the right moment to let them slip out. But he couldn’t. He found them easy to type, to press the button, and send it to her so she could read them.

He momentarily gave up on his admission and brought his hand down to her clit to rub quick circles. Like the final bit of pressure needed for a star to be born, the bursts of pleasure became overwhelming as she clamped down on him, drawing a growl from deep within his chest as she came. His name poured from her lips like traces of stardust and CMBR as she trembled on the table, his thumb slowly drawing out her orgasm as his warm release spurted into her.

He grunted her name mindlessly, swivelling his hips, pushing to keep his cum as deep inside her as physically possible until he was spilling out of her from how full she was. He didn’t care about what Sam would say if he walked in, he only cared about claiming her and filling her up. His soul burned with pride and fervour knowing she’d be wet and full inside for days with his cum as she walked around and worked, that her cunt and clit would be swollen from his usage for the next hours, sore from the penetration of his cock, her skin bruised by his hands and mouth, and her nipples tight from his tongue and fingers.

“Umm,” she started quietly. He snapped out of his daze, a lazy smile growing on his lips as he looked into her soft eyes, but didn’t dare to slip out of her. He lifted a hand to move a few strands of hair away from her flushed face and saw her perk up slightly. “Funny how I was annoying you earlier…” she trailed off, her fingers brushing against the Mark, relaxing him.

He hummed softly, shaking his head. “You’re not annoying,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against her cheek. She smiled at him, an adoring tenderness radiating from her features like sunlight that flustered him. “I.. I am sorry,” he whispered.

“Hmm? What for?” Her voice was quiet and curious, stunned about his second apology.

“You know.. Crowley, for not calling or texting, for everything before that if I haven’t apologised, and for everything after, just in case I’m too stupid to realise I’m wrong,” he told her, just a little bit of guilt and shame making him look away.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft, like everything else about her, and he looked up at her again when she tugged at his arms. “I’m always going to forgive you,” she informed him, then shut her eyes as if he wasn’t allowed to argue with her. She hummed softly at his thoughtful silence, her hands reaching out for his hips, pulling him into her so he’d brush her cervix again as a way to distract him.

“Sam… He, uh,” Dean paused to laugh sadly, “he gave me the talk.. the ‘don’t hurt her’ talk when you and me started.. dating, when I.. popped outta Hell,” he spoke up randomly. She remembered, it felt like just yesterday he was having nightmares of what he’d done in Hell---even now, there was still the aftermath of Hell affecting him. She lifted a brow, opening her eyes, and tilting her head like a puppy to give him her undivided attention.

Then, she smiled, images of Sam acting like the overprotective brother that Dean once played entertained her. “Oh.”

“I always knew no one could love like you do, and I wanted to.. uh, hold onto that innocence, that goodness in you, your kindness… I thought it’d wither away, but looking at you now, there’s only… more of it. I don’t know how… but you still care and love and feel so deeply.” He finally pulled out of her, biting his lip as he shamelessly watched himself slip out while his cum followed.

“What are you trying to say?” She didn’t notice what he was enthralled by, too caught up in trying to analyse his words, so he blinked away his arousal and picked up his folded shirt to clean her up.

“I don’t wanna taint that, I don’t wanna ruin it, to make you… lose that. I love you so much for it, and I have… this,” he pointed to the Mark on his arm, “so I know I won’t be.. stay good.. like you. I’ll be a demon, just evil, cold, and dark…” he trailed off, focusing on cleaning her up while feeling her eyes probing his very soul without even having to slip into the doors of his eyes.

“Don’t.. do you think… that now, as a human, you’re nothing more than that?” Her voice was quiet, like she didn’t actually want to know the answer, as if it’d break her to know the truth. She shooed his hand away as she sat up, her eyes never once straying from what she could see of his face.

“Well, yeah, I mean, that’s why Cain gave me this thing, because I was worthy or whatever,” he mumbled, busying himself by putting both their dirty clothes into the duffle bag to wash later. “Not something I should be proud of bein’ worthy of,” he muttered, putting his boxers on. She was quiet for a moment and let him dress her in his flannel as she tried to find her next words.

“He’s wrong, he doesn’t know you, not really,” she started. He caged her with his arms, his hands flat on either side of her hips and he finally looked up at her, their faces really close, but far enough for her to see his scepticism. “So, he’s seen like.. point one percent of what you are, you are so much more, Dean.” She hid her face in his neck, kissing his tattoo before she pulled away to add, “I look up to you, so.. if you love who I am, just know it’s because of you… that I am this way..”

“What?” He blinked, pulling back just to make sure he heard right, his brain incapable of retaining the meaning of her words.

“What? You really don’t know?” She asked with disbelief, a sad smile washing over her face. “That’s somewhat endearing actually,” she murmured with a somewhat sad, little laugh. She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, a little sigh drifting between her lips. “The first thing I noticed when I met you was how kind you are. How you took care of Sam.. then I found out you’ve done it all your childhood and you didn’t complain.”

“It wasn’t your job, you could’ve just.. not done it, but you did. With no reward, no thanks, nothing. You could’ve lied and ‘taken care of him’---no one was watching---but you still did it, and he had a better childhood than you. In fact, he’s turned out quite wonderful. You made him want more, made him feel worthy, valuable, which is why he went off to college.”

“You shielded him as much as you could from hunting, that for him there was actually a way out. Something you couldn’t see for yourself because you made it your job to take all the weight. Then, you took care of me and tried doing the same. And.. well, if you love who I am, thank yourself, Dean. You were like a hero to me, different from your dad, different from all the hunters I’d seen, and I thought, ‘this.. he is what I want to be, not a killer, not a thoughtless, violent, bloodthirsty, unchanging hunter---a hero’. I loved you for it back then too.”

“Then, when we were hunting together---all three of us, to look for your dad… I saw more of you.. there were the random kids you saved… how gentle you were---and still are---with them. You’ve shown mercy to monsters, to people who could be considered dangerous. You changed your mind about what hunting’s all about, you’ve evolved past killing anything that isn’t human, you’ve grown, and other hunters stick with the same ‘all monsters are killers and need to die’ motto. You’ve realised that they’re just like us too. That they can be different and.. fuck, if that’s not goodness, then I don’t know what you wanna call it.”

“You’ve done everything you’ve done—even getting this damned Mark—out of love, for the world, or for Sam, or whoever, because you’re good. I’ve seen all these billions of different, tiny, bits and pieces of you, and.. to me.. you’re.. like a whole universe, filled with light, hope, love, life, sadness, pain, grief, and you’re so fucking beautiful I’m just.. overwhelmed with how much I adore you for being who you are. I would never ask you to change.”

“And you’re still trying to save everyone. You, Sam, and even Cas might not always succeed when you try to do something you think is right or good to try to save the ones you love or the world, but the point of being a good man is that you’re even trying at all. No one sees you, no one tells you to, no one thanks you for it, you just help people because it’s right, because it’s the least you could do, above all, you do it because you’re kind, Dean.”

Silence fell over them momentarily as Dean let her words sink in. His mind worked quickly to absorb her sentiment and her love for him, and he wanted to cry. Tears of happiness and adoration stung his eyes and he blinked them away, swallowing past the tightness in his throat that made a strained whimper melt away, stopping it from making its way out.

“Y/N..”

“You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know that, I just want you to hear the truth from someone who loves you and knows who you really are. Someone who accepts you as you are and doesn’t try to change you.. or.. act like all you are is.. bad. I see you, at your core, your very soul and your mind.. all of you… is just.. glorious. Nothing needs to be added to you or changed or removed because you’re already perfect, and anyone who doesn’t see that is a daft cow and their opinions don’t matter, obviously. You’re my everything and I love you,” she murmured, smiling playfully.

“You’re so…” He broke into a smile too, his hands landed on her hips and he pulled her closer to him, their faces inching closer. Close enough for their breaths to make them dizzy with a more tender haze of desire washing over them.

“Shh, let me.. I love you,” she whispered lazily against his lips. She kissed him deeply, both of them smiling and trying not to laugh as their lips moved together.

“You’re delirious,” he mumbled, entertained by her playfulness.

She pulled away from the kiss, her legs wrapping around his hips with her ankles locked together. She nuzzled into his neck again, finding a comfortable position and whispering, “shh, I said I love you, let’s go to sleep.”

“Not in our... bed?” He suggested with a chuckle, kissing her head.

“Oh. Right.. yes.” She pulled away, hopping off the table and fixing his shirt she was wearing. He bit his lip, claiming her waist under the open shirt with his hands. He pushed the shirt open more with his forearms to admire her nakedness.

“It’s okay, I love you.” He smiled like a dork as he kissed her forehead.

“You’re adorable when you say that,” she grinned, circling his waist with her arms. He blinked down at her, his eyes lighting up when he backtracked and remembered what had slipped from his mouth.

“I.. uh, sorry for not saying it more often,” he mumbled, still a little proud of himself for saying it at all.

“Don’t worry. It’s pretty hard for me to say it to you sometimes..” she confessed bashfully. Of course she’d understand that he had difficulty saying those words, as overdue as they were. She knew he’d found other ways to express it, everything he does for her he does out of love. At least now he knows there’s nothing he needs to overthink. She really knows him. She really sees him.

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[afairytalestray]

OK so on Saturday I got to go to Milan to see the Cats Il Sistina tour and HOLY GOD IT WAS AWESOME. I'm glad I studied the character designs in advance because a lot of the costumes are really different. I'm not typically a huge fan of nonreplicas but Il Sistina may well change that!

I've compiled my thoughts on the show here! Nb, I do not speak Italian so I'm not sure how close to the original lyrics the translation is 😅

There were no green goggles, but the Cats did come in through the audience. I had an aisle seat and Cassandra walked right past me! She was right there and so beautiful omg.

I've gotta get in right at the start that Simone Ragozzino is my new all-time favourite Mungojerrie. The most ever! A little guy. He got most of the acrobatics that Tumblebrutus usually does - apparently Simone used to be an acrobat/gymnast so that makes sense. He and Rumpleteazer were sufficiently chaotic but also clearly valued and beloved members of the tribe. Idk man Simone just got it. Tumble-jerrie ftw. 

The cathedral from "round the cathedral" was changed to a Colosseum reference which I loved 😍

I'm obsessed with Demeter’s makeup from this tour actually. I'm personally not the biggest fan of cryptid-style makeup and looks in Cats in general, but I feel like Deme was balancing just on the edge and it really worked and I loved it. Maybe it was Viviana Salvo's acting as well - she was fabulous at toeing that line between stunning and unnerving!

Tugger and Munkustrap were super close! Munk was less annoyed by Tugger’s antics than normal and they did this thing at one point where Tugger was holding onto Munk who leant fully backwards off the edge of the stage - it was like a trust exercise and I was a fan. Their rendition of Old Deuteronomy was lovely and their voices worked so good together! Tugger was definitely Munkustrap’s second in command of the tribe. I wish Tugger was a bit more Tugger in appearance, he seemed very yellow with not a lot of detail on his costume, but the personality was hundo p present and accounted for. He did the "bite is worse than your bark" line in Jellicle Songs and legit barked at the end.

Jennyanydots was fabulous! Instead of a big coat she literally wore a giant ball of wool, and one of the props was giant knitting needles and the start of what might have been a giant scarf - it took 6 of the Cats to carry it. It actually worked super well for Milan, which is known for fashion and fabrics - there's even a giant sewing needle sculpture outside Cadorna Station! It was probably a happy coincidence but I enjoyed it!

Victoria's role was changed quite a bit, her solo was totally different and the pas de deux was gone. There also kinda just... wasn't the big small first touch Vic and Grizabella moment, which I was sad about, but if Griz's big moment wasn't "TOUCH MEEEEEE" in the translation, I'm not so bothered by it. I wish Vic had a bit bigger of a role because I love her, but she was killing it whenever she was on stage.

We are all stan pink Jemima, she had such a lovely voice too. Her and Alonzo were playing with a tennis ball during the interval and it was adorable.

My beloved Coricopat and Tantomile were lying in the Mouth of Truth prop after Moments of Happiness; they had their usual role of translating Old Doots through Jemima so I thought their placement here was deliberate! They weren't always fully in sync which I kinda liked, it was like they were allowed to be their own characters rather than just "the twins". I definitely got the impression that Tantomile was the older sister which hella backs up my hcs about her!

Gus was absolutely WILD. He comes in after Jellylorum has done her whole first part of the song in this raggedy old tradiotional Sherlock Holmes-style beige plaid coat instead of being there but kinda out of it the whole time. At first he wasnt keen on replaying any of his roles, but then all the others were like please please please and he relented. I think they were calling him (or his role) Romero? Idk if that's an Italian reference I just don't get? They did Pekes and Pollicles (one of the above had been changed to chihuahuas!) and then the bold Rumpus/Romero appeared... in a red satin bath robe and holding a sabre??? I need to look up this reference! Dude didn't just intimidate the pollicles, he straight up cut a couple of them down with his sword! Grandpa woke up and chose violence 😂

There was no trash train in Skimbleshanks 😭😭 there were giant glowstick things that changed colours though. Skimble and Bustopher were played by the same actor which is a combo I haven't seen before. Skimble was definitely still everyone's favourite train dad, all the characters were totally hyped for his song. HE DID TAP LIKE IN 2019. It was really cool how they did it, all the music stopped and he started a call and response tap dance with some of the other characters. The background showed an animated video of going through a train tunnel, like from the perspective of a train driver! The tap was gradually speeding up and became the sound effects of a train setting off and moving through the tunnel. I'm not explaining this super well but it was SO cool.

The Macavity Fight was quite different. There wasn't him disguised as Old Deuteronomy and then unmasked. What happened was he showed up and caused some shenanigans and then disappeared. There were about 4 of him around, so it looked like he was teleporting around the stage and audience! Bombalurina and Demeter performed his song which was absolutely fantastic (seriously how do these actresses actually manage to dance like that and sing at the same time?? Goddesses), after that he showed up again and the full cast was involved in the fight. Munkustrap still got the good choreography, but the whole tribe was involved trying to protect Old Deuteronomy. Tugger was definitely a protector in this production, he was very involved. Jerrie got KO'd a good few times, and Macavity absolutely destroyed poor Jenny! It felt like all of them were trying to protect their family and I really liked that. Despite that, Macavity was still able to win and successfully kidnap Old Doots!

"Mungojerrie, RUMPLETEAZER, Griddlebone" they let my girl do crime again!

Mistoffelees and Quaxo were besties, and Misto was REALLY enjoying Tugger's song I'm just saying. Delighted to announce Il Sistina Misto was a fruity little guy. He didn't get the terrible bore line, sad face, that went to Quaxo, but tbh idk how they translated that so it could be totally different! At one point Alonzo was holding him back at the start of Tugger’s song! We then saw a sponge-like Misto who picked up behaviours from the others around him, like he wasn't too sure of himself. This is actually one of my favourite Misto hcs so i was so chuffed to see it so clearly. He then helped Alonzo rein George (at least I think it was George!) in from going mental fanboy at Tugger. He was originally curious about Griz but then adjusted to hissing upon seeing the others. This fully went forward into his song. They did some big choreo changes. It was significantly less dance-heavy than traditional Misto performances and had a stronger focus on him being magic. There was a levitating box that they spent a lot of time with - Magician's Assistant Cass got in, but then she didn't disappear? She just popped back out again after the box had been rotated a few times. Some of the Kittens were waving their hands under the box to prove there was nothing holding it up and looking amazed which was adorable though. There was also a bit where Misto put some cards into a hat, the hat got passed down a line of Cats and then at the end they just sort of flew out? Like idk maybe they changed the lyrics where they're describing different magic tricks and it all makes sense! I THOUGHT THE CONJURING TURNS WERE GONE, but they were just moved to the very end of the song and cut down quite a bit.

Ok BUT LISTEN, à la 2019, the poor boy tried and failed twice to bring back Old Deuteronomy and then just sort of flopped in the corner all defeated but then BOYFRIEND TUGGER HELD HIS HANDS AND GOT RIGHT UP CLOSE AND WAS LIKE I BELIEVE IN YOU BABE and omg for real those actors knew EXACTLY what they were doing Tuggoff nation RISE. I'm always a red-sheet-turned-cape stan but I can definitely get behind the sparkly tail coat and playing card bowtie. He also had this handkerchief that he threw up in the air and it became a magic wand. I have no idea how and it was very silly so obviously I loved it. Although I wasn't massively into the choreo changes (ballet dancer Misto 5eva), Pierpaolo Scida was a magnificent Misto and I adored him - he was so cute! The little background actions and looks he did were so in character with how he interpreted Misto! Also he was beautiful you can't change my mind.

Malika was such an intense Grizabella - 10/10. She was proud but so vulnerable. She walked right past me when she first came in and lads, she did the whole show in these massive stilettos - absolute queen. At one point it literally rained on her on stage! During her first Memory, Old Deut was really watching her, and at the end of it he approached her, but she ran off when she saw him. I thought it was a super cool character moment, like she knew she wanted to be accepted, but wasn't quite ready for it. Even after the big Memory and Old Deuteronomy declared her the Jellicle Choice, Victoria approached her, but she was still too scared to let her, and it was Jemima who finally was able to reach her and bring her in. At the end she just kinda disappeared off stage - there were no flying tyres or magic stairs in the circus tent!

During the bit after the bows some of the cats were out in the audience and Tugger scared the absolute crap out of this one woman by poking his head in between her and the person sitting next to her. Iconic. Also during the latter part of the interval the audience was allowed to come up to the edge of the stage where some of the actors were goofing about in character. This mf pretended to cough up a hairball and now I have it on video. I also got some close ups of Teazer and the beautiful Bomba!

The Italian Junkyard was fabulous! It was mostly roman landmarks like Piazza Navona and Bocca della Verità, but there was also Michelangelo's David (which I'm pretty sure is in Florence) above the orchestra! There was also a giant marble foot, an Italian-style water fountain, and a broken column. My favourite prop was the bench, it's elevated at the back left of the stage and the cast were using it like a slide to enter the stage! Also it seemed to be Misto’s preferred location to lounge.

In conclusion, I will never get over this.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

do you have any personal hcs abt half life characters and/or hlvrai characters

Indeed I do (i'm gonna focus on regular half life characters rather than them plus HLVRAI-)

Gordon Freeman:

-Completely mute. He was born with underdeveloped vocal chords so he can't really make any noises of any kind, and thus can't speak. He instead uses sign language or just writing something down to communicate.

-Is such a nerd and I say this affectionately. He will ramble about certain scientific topics if given the chance.

-I can't stress this enough he is literally a normal guy. He was not built for fighting aliens and going against eldritch horrors. No he is not doing okay

-Not very social around people he's not familiar with. Actually quite socially awkward and a bit of a loner.

-that being said he IS friends with Barney and Dr. Kleiner specifically. They were the ones he hung around the most in Black Mesa.

Barney Calhoun:

Whenever I talk about Barney, just know that my interpretation of him is based on how he acted in Half life 1 rather than HL2. that being said

-he sounds so done with everything. He speaks in a pretty monotonous voice most of the time, and has a hard time showing emotions. He could be freaked the fuck out and he'd still have a bored look on his face- /LHJ

-walks with a slight limp from a workplace accident, before the resonance cascade.

-Pretty apathetic and pessimistic sounding, but he does genuinely care. Just because he thought 100% he was going to die in the resonance cascade doesn't mean he's going to give up and let it happen easily

-Kinda gets talked down upon by the science team (aside from Dr. Kleiner and Gordon of course) so he has a grudge against them. thinks most of them believe they're better than everyone else.

-Depressed. yeah turns out working in a concrete underground science facility isn't great for your mental health. No he does not know of this diagnosis.

-Gordon was his best friend, so when he didn't see Gordon escape Black Mesa. He got. extremely worried to say the least.

I don't really have a lot of headcanons for the other characters right now? At least nothing that hasn't already been established in canon. also i'm focusing on he HL1 characters cause its the one I know the most about. but yeah. I like these two, they're silly

[rosepascal]

I Have No Use For Rings Of Gold || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: The citizens of Jackson have already made their mind up about Joel Miller and the sins of his past. But you don't think the man who sits by the sheep can truly be that bad

warnings: descriptions of a pregnant sheep/sheep giving birth, insecure!Joel, lots of self doubt from him. light swearing.

a/n: I watched HTTYD 2 while drunk with some friends and the song has been in my brain ever since. I hope you enjoy, I know that this trope has kinda been done already, also by me in another fic i think i dont remember but i can't help but write sad insecure baby girl joel <33

Sometimes it feels like Joel shouldn't have survived. The shot may have missed him but it took the only thing that mattered to him. Since then, well he's just been fighting. The things he's done. The people he's hurt. It's all been to just survive. To keep going and to keep fighting for his brother and eventually for Tess.

For the last 20 years all he does is try and make it through the day and if he does, then that's good enough. But now after losing Tess, finding Ellie, finding a home in Jackson. Things have well and truly changed.

Home being a very, loose term. It's as much of a home as it can be. Sure it's a house and there's no holes in the walls but calling it home feels dangerous. It feels like once he truly settles down that its going to be ripped away.

But every day he wakes up in a bed with clean covers and sheets, he's got running water and warm food to eat. Ellie's room is just down the hall, door slightly open in case he needs to check on her. He does the same. So now he doesn't have to fight anymore. But he's not sure what to do now. He can't just go about his days pretending like the last 20 years haven't happened.

Like every time he closes his eyes there isn't blood on his hands and there isn't the face of his dead daughter in his dreams. So he tends to the sheep instead. When he showed up to the barns for the first time he scared the people working there. His name had spread like wildfire around the small town when he first arrived and then when he came back. He ignored the whispers and looks he gets. Its just better that way.

Sheep were nice and only bleated a little too loud sometimes. Taking care of them managed to soothe his mind for a little bit. At least an hour every day he felt at peace. It's where he stands now, just watching them graze among the newly growing grass.

He takes in the state of the fence, his contractor brain never truly turned off as he makes a note to tell Tommy he needs to reinforce the fence before it breaks.

"Excuse me, are you Joel?" A sweet voice rings through the air. He looks up to find you staring back at him.

"Yes." He answers slowly. Normally people stay far away from him while he's out here. But here you come, not an ounce of judgment in your eyes as you smile at him.

"Hi, I was told one of the sheep were sick." You say, shifting on your feet as he stares back at you. You heard the name of Joel Miller many times and every time it made you roll your eyes. Outlandish rumors about who he is and what he'd done made their way around but you had no interest in believing such things.

"I'm, or I was a vet. I worked with pets and farm animals so..." Joel nods and silently gestures for you to follow him.

"Dolly here hasn't been acting right. Normally she loves being with all the other sheep but lately she's been isolating herself." Nodding you go right into work mode. Checking over Dolly as Joel stands by you watching intently. After a few minutes you think you know what's wrong.

"She's pregnant. About three months in actually." You say simply.

"Huh," Joel looks down at Dolly.

"Is that why you've been acting so different Doll?" He leans down and scratches Dolly's head. She seems comfortable around him, even going as far as to lean into his hand.

"She likes you." He shrugs and stands back up.

"Course she does, I feed her." Its the closest thing to a joke he's made to anyone besides Ellie.

The laugh he pulls from you makes his heart beat a little faster. It's nice, its something he could get used to. Joel wills those thoughts away as he straightens himself out.

"Well I better be going now, thanks for coming out." Your shoulders fall slightly. From the short time you've spent with Joel you're already craving more of his time.

"Yeah, I'll be by again soon to check on her." You wring your hands together as you start to walk out of the barn.

Joel clears his throat and follows, without thinking he puts a hand on your back, guiding you outside to the exit. His hand is barely touching you but it sends shivers down your spine.

"Joel! Hurry up!" You look out towards the town to see a young girl standing with her arms crossed. That must be Ellie.

"Jesus." Joel mumbles as he rolls his eyes.

"Bye Joel." You say softly as he begins to walk away. He stops and turns his head.

He opens his mouth but after a second closes it again. Flashing you a small smile and nods as a goodbye. As he disappears with Ellie you sigh. The touch of his hand still lingering on your back. Oh you might be in trouble.

It's a new change for Joel to go from being alone with the sheep to having you with him. You start stopping by every day to check on Dolly but also to talk to Joel. He doesn't need to know that you don't technically need to be there all the time.

Over the next month you start to learn more about him. Not much about his past but you don't care about that. You learn he likes coffee and whiskey and that his humor is incredibly dry. You learn more about Ellie and even meet her a couple of times. Those two are quite the duo but somehow it fits.

You learn that he may appear strong on the outside but inside he's exhausted. He didn't tell you that one. Its all in his eyes. His brown eyes that are aged from years of horror. His hands are rough and filled with scars. You don't want to ask how he got them.

He's quite the gentleman too. Those rumors really were just rumors and you're glad that you never listened to them in the first place because you could have missed out on everything that is knowing Joel Miller.

"Hey, I was wonderin' if you wanted to get a drink tonight." Joel asks as you finish up your check up on Dolly. His eyes dart around the barn, only coming back to your face a few times. You wouldn't say he's nervous but he is something.

"I'd love to." Placing your hand on his arm you squeeze it gently.

Your brain screams that you've stepped too far but by the way a blush creeps up on his face you don't think you've scared him off yet. The bar isn't very busy thankfully. That would make things a bit easier. Sipping on your drink you enjoy being with Joel. Conversation skills aren't his strong suit but he's trying and that's enough.

"I always wondered, why sheep?" You ask him. He thinks for a moment, placing his half finished drink on the table before looking back at you.

"Don't know, though when I was a kid there used to be sheep riding. Called it Mutton Bustin."

"Did you ride?"

"Sometimes." He smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. He can feel himself loosening and maybe its not a bad thing. His arm sits on top of the booth, his hand almost touching your shoulder.

"Were you any good?" You ask excitedly. The image of Joel riding a sheep is too funny.

"I was six and fell off after 3 seconds." He barely remembers it. It's been 50 years since then but the rodeo was always a good memory. Laughing you lean in closer to him. Slowly the walls he's built are being lowered. Not a lot but enough to start to see the real Joel come out.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Looking up you see a familiar but right now unwanted face.

"Leo." You smile awkwardly at him and turn to Joel, silently apologizing for being interrupted. Leo is an acquaintance You wouldn't exactly call him a friend. The only time you've really spent with him were a few patrols.

"Can I talk to you real quick." He glances towards Joel and you don't like the look he gives him. Its clear Leo isn't going to leave and you don't want to cause a scene so you agree.

"I'll be right back." Joel watches you leave, his mood starting to decline as he catches whispers of your conversation.

Be careful

Dangerous

Not good for you

The once relaxed feeling he had is gone. Taking his drink he finishes it off in one go before standing up. By the time you come back to the table Joel is about to leave. Leo is long gone hopefully after you told him nicely to fuck off.

"Hey is something wrong?" You ask, wondering why he's leaving so suddenly. Joel shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Just gotta get home." Leaving you alone after he asked you out is a dick move but he keeps walking.

He's not a good person. He knows that. Clearly other people know that too. The way that boy looked at him, a few years ago he wouldn't have taken shit but with you sitting right next to him he felt exposed.

Like that guy could see right through him. Could see every dark day Joel has had and knew every kill even if Joel lost count years ago. He's not good enough. He'll never be good enough. Not for someone like you.

So he keeps walking.

- - -

Joel doesn't come back to the barn. At least not when you're there. When he walked out of that bar you were left feeling so deflated. There was no joy in his eyes the last time you saw them.

God if only Leo minded his damn business. He pulled you to the side and went on some rant about how you shouldn't be hanging around someone like Joel. How he's dangerous and blah blah bullshit.

You could decide who you wanted to be around without anyone's input. Joel had to have heard, that's the only thing that makes sense as to why he'd walk out like that.

"You're almost ready to pop Dolly." Dolly loved Joel and it almost felt like she missed him just as much as you did.

"I'm sure he'll come back soon." You say more to yourself than to Dolly.

You hear footsteps approach the barn and turn, your heart skipping a beat thinking it could be Joel. Your face falls when you're met with someone else.

"Hi Tommy," A look of pity on his face as he approaches you.

"Maria's asking for your help if you're all done here." Nodding you pack up your stuff and bid Dolly a goodbye. You walk in silence with Tommy until you break it with a question you've been dying to ask.

"Does it bother you that people are spreading lies about your brother?" He thinks for a few seconds, looking almost guilty as he starts to speak.

"They're not all lies, Joel and I...We weren't good people."

"What even makes a good person in this world Tommy? You think everyone but Joel hasn't done things they regret? Or done something to survive?" He's silent as you continue to rant on.

"I've killed people too. I've lied, I stole. Before I came here I did all of that. Do you think I'm a bad person?" You shout, pointing at yourself as you stare at Tommy.

"'Course not and I don't think Joel is a bad person either." He sighs and looks at you. It's been a long time since he's seen someone defend his brother so passionately.

"He's my brother and I love him. But I can't deny that some of the things we did keeps me up at night. The town is always gonna talk, it's just a matter of what you choose to believe." He points towards where Maria stands and offers you a smile in peace.

As he walks off you think about what he said. He's not wrong about the town but the town is wrong about Joel. If you're the only one to believe that then so be it.

- - -

Joel misses you. He misses the barn and he misses Dolly. But he can't go back.

Who was he kidding? He's not some farmhand who has a way with sheep. He's a killer, a survivor. He belongs on patrols not petting sheep.

Still he misses them. Patrol is the same as always and once again no one says a word to him as they disperse. He passes the barn and he can't help himself. As far as he remembered you didn't come around at this time. The sheep seem happy enough, running over to see what all the fuss is about as he steps closer. Walking into the barn he hears bleating coming from inside.

"Come on Dolly, you can do it girl." He freezes at the sound of your voice. He hasn't heard it in weeks.

You're kneeling in the pen with Dolly. You're waiting, watching in case Dolly needs help. All he can think is how much he's missed you. How cute your face is when you concentrate and how he should leave before you see him.

"Little help here?" Too late.

"Don't know much about this." He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's okay. Come on," There's a lot you want to say to him but its not the time. Joel watches as Dolly starts to bleat again. She stands up and starts to walk around.

"Look!" Grabbing Joel's hand you point to the head of the baby lamb. It takes a few minutes but soon there's two new baby lambs. Both girls. Dolly licks them as one of them shakes their head.

"They're so cute." You lean your head against Joel's shoulder. Grinning from ear to ear as you watch Dolly mother her two new children.

"Tiny." He says as he watches the babies. It's not every day you see the birth of two lambs but its fascinating.

"They need names," Joel looks into your eyes and the past few weeks have felt like a waste.

He could have been with you, he could be proving to you that he's worthy of your love. Anything if it meant he could spend a single moment by your side.

"How 'bout Lady and Alice." Joel thinks back to the old movies he used to watch with Sarah. They weren't his thing but he watched them anyways with her.

"They're Perfect." He squeezes your hand and you close your eyes. He knows this is the time to talk. That he can't run anymore.

"About that night...I'm sorry I left ya. I should've..." The words weren't coming no matter how hard he tried.

"Why did you run?" You ask softly. You know the answer but you want him to tell you.

" 'Cause he was right. I'm no good for you."

"I don't care Joel, I never did. I care about the man you are now. The man who tends to sheep and cares for his family." Taking your hands he brings them to his face. Pressing them against his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

"I can't be want you need. I can't give you the things you deserve." Rubbing your thumb across his face you shake your head gently.

"What I need isn't for you to decide. What I want is you Joel and I deserve a man who names lambs and walks me home everyday." He closes his eyes and rubs his thumb against your wrist.

Everyday until the you get sick of him will be spent trying to live up to the man you believe he is, and you'll spend everyday telling him he already is until he believes it.

"Kiss me." You whisper. His hand cup your face and his lips brush against yours. He's hesitant at first, going in slow until he doesn't.

Your lips are too enticing for him to hold back anymore. His other hand slips to your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. Your head feels floaty. It's a feeling that you hope you get to feel again and again.

Joel had a past that he wasn't proud of that's for sure but his past doesn't define the man he is now. For you, for his family.

He's everything they already need.

[jester089]

FUN IDEIA ALERT!!!

FUN IDEIA ALERT!!!

Spoopy season requires spoopy things

sooo i was kinda of thinking Ghost!child reader with the gang (platonic, always!)

Lemme explain it to ya, So i wanted to see some hc of an spirit child reader whos soul got stuck into the digital circus, how, you say? Lets say that in the moment that reader putted the headset something fell in their head, killing them instantly, since reader was wearing the Headset, instead of their body and conscience go to the digital circus, their soul got there! Their appearance being something peaceful and pleasing to the eye, like Reader's appearance are a child covered in white robes with some gold details and a flower crown. But reader's eyes represent constant sadness, like there are always rivers of tears falling off their eyes who (strangely) doesnt make a mess on the floor, kinda like Gangle's tears but more sad

If you go close enough to Reader you can hear multiple whispers, inaudible ones cuz its multiple whispers at one time but only Reader can understand them. If they question what the whispers says, Reader will say: "its the voices lamenting." In a full echoish-whisperish voice.

BUUT theres more!

Since reader is a spirit they can lift things with their mind, dim the lights and go invisible (ghost things)

Reader rarely express any other emotion than sadness, but when they snap... OH BOI

Reader will go full hostile mode, their appearance distorts into something really creepy, like their eyes will go full pitch black and the tears turns into some glitchy goo, their robes getting slightly black in the edges, Reader will start throwing things around with their mind and scream loud as hell, basically like a ghost tantrum.

Im very excited with this ideia AAAA

- 🦇

Crying child

Ik that isn't what you meant. But the first thing my mind went to is the crying children from fnaf. Also this sounds honestly really hard to write for. I ain't gonna just not write it though. I wasn't really sure if you wanted headcannons or a oneshot. But this felt like a more oneshot-ish request so I did that. TADC Crew x Child Ghost Reader

You were one of the first people to arrive at the digital circus. You were around 6 when you first arrived and are now much older. But being trapped here as well as being dead had taken it's toll on your young mind so you still act around the same as when you first arrived. Still easily excitable, still gullible, still sad. You really were like a ghost. Not only because you were literally a ghost but you rarely spoke unless spoken to and would just quietly float around an endless stream of tears falling from your eyes. You also had the tendency to just stare at people. You had an aura of sadness around you. The occasional quiet sob and endless depressed whispers that always followed you around made it hard to be around you for long periods of time. Their's a lot of mental problems in the circus already, and you sure as hell ain't gonna help. When you are happy, which is rare you're quite nice to be around. The tears and whispers stop and you really do feel like just a normal kid to the others. Now anger is a different story. When you're angry Caine has to actually lock you up cause you've killed a few people. Your usual appearance resembles a fallen angel. Snapped halo, dirtied once pristine white robes lined with gold. But when you're angry it flips. Your robes singe at the edges leaving behind a brownish blood red color your halo sinks into your head and is replaced by a single broken pure red horn. The fact that your soul is in the circus makes you have some kind of power. You don't really use it cause you don't know how. But when you're mad at someone it is proper time to freak out because you've deleted a few people. You always feel horrible afterwards but their isn't anything you can do for them. The ones who have been abstracted at least have a chance of being helped. The ones you deleted not so much. So in the rare occurrence that you're around everyone they do their best to keep you calm, and to keep Jax away from you (He doesn't believe you're a threat.)

(Another kind of strange request. Sorry if this isn't good. I just didn't really know what to write. I did my best though. Hope you enjoyed it.)

xoxo, Jester

[tarithenurse]

The beast in the mirror

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader Word count: 3071 Content: Smut (DUBCON/NONCON, magic use, oral, anal, vaginal), hints of Jotun Loki, no plot whatsoever, kinda rough. A/N: For this one, Loki is well aware of his heritage even though it’s a secret to most in Asgard. Betaed partly by the always amazing TanteFrutsel-CreativeNurse.

The beast in the mirror

You’ve imagined feeling his gaze upon you but never actually caught him in the act. The other maids and servants only describe the young prince as aloof and even ignorant to their existence...so why this feeling?

Perhaps you are simply smitten, after all. He is young and beautiful. The face of prince Loki haunts your dreams causing you to wake near feverish and body thrumming with need.

Do you love him? You cannot even claim to know him!

Most likely all it is, is the urge to be wanted, desired by someone powerful. Or maybe it is the poor maiden’s dream of being pulled from poverty by a handsome prince.

And he is handsome, that you can not deny. Ivory skin pulled taught over a lean and muscular frame, raven hair framing high cheekbones and glistening green eyes. His lips, delicate, speaking words of intellect and wisdom. Not to mention his hands. Norns! They are to swoon for!

Truly, you are no match for him and so your bury your silly dreams and ignore the so-called sense of his gaze upon you as you go about your duties of cleaning his rooms and tending to his needs.

Until one day, you catch the reflection in the mirror.

A day like many others is coming to its close and you have brought prince Loki his supper as he wishes to dine in privacy this evening. On your way out, you pause to collect his laundry and straighten a few things – you know how particular he can be. Bending to pick up a discarded tunic, you catch a glimpse of movement to your right but a glance proves that it’s nothing more than the reflections in the tall mirror: you, bend over and cloth bundled in your arms; him behind you, a goblet in hand and gaze stuck on your most prominent feature your position considered.

Flushed with embarrassment, you straighten quickly and then nearly drop your armful as you notice something in the reflection. His eyes! Gone is the usual green, swallowed instead by a crimson more intense than rubies.

Startled (scared), you twirl around but now as you look upon him, his eyes are back to normal. Confused, no words come out as you open your mouth to question reality – which perhaps is for the better as you shouldn’t speak out of turn but of course Loki notices.

“Cat got your tongue, little mouse?” he mocks. Then he motions to the dirty clothes. “See that they are returned without a wrinkle.” And with that he returns to the seat by the fire.

...

It happens again a few days later.

Cleaning the chambers, you’ve taken to polishing that very same mirror and as if to mock your memory, Loki enters the room behind you, shamelessly looking you up and down although you can see his actions without needing to turn.

But what can you say? So you continue, rubbing vigorously with your cloth to finish the task quicker...until you reach the spot that holds his face and your eyes lock with his through the reflection.

Red. Red like spilled blood or the roses from the queen’s garden. Gasping, you drop your cloth and turn only to suddenly find him standing much closer than anticipated.

“What seems to be the problem, little mouse?” he smiles coldly, voice nothing but a shivering whisper.

Looking up at him as he towers above you, the odd colour has drained from his eyes, leaving the usual emeralds to mesmerize you.

“Y-your eyes, my prince,” you manage to mutter. He doesn’t move his attention, just smirks and motions for you to go on. “They were...I thought...” But now that you’re to say it out loud, you realize how silly it is. How impossible.

Rather than say anything, he turns you around so you both face the mirror. One hand rests on your shoulder even as he points to his eyes which remain the same forestry hue as you should have expected. Still, you find that you have to release a breath of relief. Briefly, you admire the hand that still holds you steady before lifting your head once more...and freezing.

There it is: the crimson. Ominous and undeniable, both his eyes are drowning in a sea of blood made all the more hellish by his grin that bares teeth akin to fangs. Now both hands are on your shoulders, fingers digging into your joints and making you whimper. And still you can’t tear your eyes away.

“Afraid of what you see, mouse?” he growls.

You are. Or you should be at least. Your heart is galloping and your legs threaten to buckle and bring you to the knees before the prince where you could – NO! Stop it! Unbidden, an image of what you could do for him on your knees has sprung into your mind, making wetness pool between your legs and the air stick in your lungs for a second before you can push the twisted and inexplicable desire aside.

But a second is all Loki needs to perceive that something is up. You can tell by the smirk and raised brow that he knows. Nostrils flaring, he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, his hands glide down your arms before locking your wrists in a punishing grip.

“I smell it, mouse,” he purrs, sending shivers down your spine, “I smell your lust. You cannot hide it from me.”

A part of you doesn’t want to, though. Your body is urging you to give in but you know better than that. Still you don’t object as his hands begin to wander again, feeling your bosom through the drab linen of your dress before moving to cup your ass, caress your waist, pinch your thighs. His hands seem to be everywhere as he circles you, long fingers working your heart into a frenzy.

You don’t know when you’ve moved, but suddenly you find the back of your legs bumping against the ostentatious bed and you struggle to maintain balance both physically and mentally.

“We shouldn’t -” you begin only to be silenced by a searing kiss that seems too intimate for him yet serves its purpose by silencing you. Lost momentarily in the conflicting sensations, it takes a moment before you force yourself from his lips. “Your highness! We can’t!”

Something dark flashes in the crimson pools and he growls with a warning voice: “And who would stop me? You?”

A light push is all it takes for you to topple over, bouncing slightly on the bed before he pins your wrists with a single hand above your head. He’s supporting his weight on a knee by your side, leaving the other hand free to hoist up your skirt, baring your less than glamorous intimates to him. He doesn’t seem to care that the undergarments aren’t made of silk or gossamer, though. He simply purrs with delight and strokes your weeping folds through the fabric.

You don’t know what causes you most shame: to be seen in a state of undress by the prince...or in such a state of need. You know you ought to at least try to resist it and so you begin to wriggle in his grasp if only for a brief second because the movement brings added friction, making your cunt clench around nothing in response.

Repositioning you both properly onto the bed roughly, it’s a relief when he removes his hands but the sensation is short lived as a golden flicker conjures a gleaming dagger and a new fear courses through you.

“Please!” you squeak, afraid of what Loki might do to you.

He scoffs. “Relax, little mouse, this is not for you...well, not directly, anyways.”

He slips the blade down the side of your undergarment and tears back with a flick of the wrist, causing the fabric to split. Of course he repeats the action on the other side but this time you know what he’s about to do and you have time to register the cool whisper of steel against your skin. Dangerous. Tantalizing. Like the prince.

Pulling the loose fabric aside, Loki brushes his nose against your folds, breathing in deeply. His proximity makes you squirm, heat rising to your scalp and causing your heart to up the speed a notch – something you’d have sworn was impossible if you’d had the wherewithal to think that far.

“Lie...still...” the god growls, moving a hand to close loosely around your throat.

Of course you do as he says. A part of you understands that it would be useless to struggle anyways but mostly you don’t want to. You want to know what it’s like to be taken by him and so when his tongue darts out, delving into your slit to lap at the juices, you moan rather than whimper.

“Oooh, my little mouse enjoys the game,” he singsongs, biting into the supple flesh of your inner thighs, “let’s see what else she likes.”

If you’d hoped for more magic wrought by the silver tongue, you’d have been disappointed. Thankfully, you’ll never make the mistake of trying to predict you master’s actions and you manage to stop yourself from wincing when he drags you flush against his crotch, ankles resting on his wide shoulders. You can feel the bulge through the leather and you know that he must be frighteningly well-endowed. At least he’s still dressed, giving you some time to prepare mentally.

His fingers snap and a golden shimmer surrounds him. He was dressed.

Now you can marvel at his creamy skin and the ropy muscles that serve one purpose right now: making him grind against your heat. The long shaft of his erection fits snugly between your folds and he angles his hips in such a manner that the cock head, weeping and purple from the strain, nudges your clit. Each time, it sends a shudder of delight through your core.

As if he can read you – he probably can – Loki presses your legs against your chest with his own body weight and spears you.

He does not grant you time to acclimate or even regain you breath, but sets a punishing pace that makes the whole bed shake. Each thrust hits deep in your core and drags over the sweet spot. You would have cried out in pain and joy if he didn’t clamp down against your windpipe.

“Not a sound, little mouse,” he hisses, making sure to thrust particularly hard.

All you can do is nod. Your hands are scrabbling for purchase but you’re too afraid to touch the prince without his explicit consent and so instead you end up reaching above your head, finding the headrest to push against and stop your body from inching closer to it, instead granting you the ability to meet his movement.

Your body is fighting a losing battle, trying to retain a semblance of control over itself. Your legs are shaking. Lungs burning, your vision starts to blur but just then Loki releases you long enough to cough and breathe in deeply.

It hurts but it feels amazing too, making the tension in your womb build and threaten to spill over. You fight to stay quiet, clamping your hands over your mouth instead in a fool’s attempt to hold back the moans but they slip past anyways.

An annoyed growl escapes Loki as he pulls out, leaving you hollow and throbbing with need. You were so close and now...now you fear you’ve lost it and upset the prince to boot.

“On your hands and knees,” he growls, guiding you around to face him in all his glory.

You know what he wants and your mouth already fills with saliva at the thought but he leaves nothing to chance and instead grabs you by the neck to guide your lips to his cock.

He’s big, far bigger than any other man, and veins and ridges adorn the shaft which in hindsight explains the friction you’d been too fucked out to consider before. Now, however, you get to run your tongue along them before your lips wrap around the crown and you try to take him in.

He tastes of you but you also register a hint of something else that must be his precum. Then his strong hand pushes onto your neck. Slurping and toying with the frenulum with the tip of your tongue, you set to work obediently.

You’re not even close to fully taking him in and you want to use a hand to compensate for the rest, but Loki tuts at you: “No, little mouse...try harder,” and frames your face with both of his hands to angle your face just right before pushing in.

Hitting your gag reflex, he groans in delight as your throat constricts around him and he stills for a moment. Once again, you can’t breathe, not even as you try to through your nose and your hands find the only purchase available: his hips.

He takes to fucking your throat with a fiendish vigour. Tears run down your cheeks, mixing with the spittle as they drip from your chin and onto the silken sheets beneath you and you vaguely realize that you will never be able to see his bed again without thinking of this moment.

You’re whimpering, but the sound stays in your chest, unable to push past his thick cock except in brief bursts when he pulls back. Your jaws ache and yet you want more, so much so that your cunt clenches around thin air. Trying to be discreet because you don’t know how he’d react, you reach between your legs to find the sensitive little nub, rolling it between your fingers.

“I see,” Loki grits out, “but I shall be gracious and allow it. In fact...”

Letting go for a moment, Loki snaps his fingers and your entire body is enveloped in the golden shimmer you are learning to associate with his magic.

It’s as though a dozen hands are touching you. Although invisible, the hands impatiently tears your dress asunder, gaining access to fondle your breasts, tweaking the nipples to the verge of pain, and playing with your clit.

Then, without warning, something is inserted into your core. A deep groan rips through you, causing Loki’s hips to stutter and his balls to tighten and instinctively you cup and tug them, making his breath hitch.

Whatever is filling up your cunt increases its pace and the rubbing of your clit intensifies causing the impending ecstasy to build within you like a bubble ready to burst. You want to call out to him, tell him that you are close but there’s no time and you’re taken over by the roaring luxury of wave after wave of bliss. You entire body seizes, your walls fluttering and your clit throbbing almost painfully as the stimulation continues.

Then Loki cums. Thick ropes shooting into your throat as he slams his pelvis flush against your face, a guttural sound escaping him. For a few moments, he holds still while the magic still works on you, making you whimper and cry.

Eventually, you try to push away, wanting to escape the overstimulation that’s causing the tension to grow inside you again.

“Not so fast, little mouse,” he purrs, partially out of breath.

Though he does pull you off his cock and onto your side, you realize that even now his erection shows no sign of lessening. Swallowing hard, you scramble to get a bit of distance, but he won’t let you, hooking an arm around your thigh instead to keep you in place. His fingers, real fingers, dance through your soaked slit, collecting all they can and smearing it around your other hole and fear grips you once more

“Don’t worry, pet,” he smirks, “I’ll be gentle.”

A single digit plays with the puckered ring before pushing in, adopting the same rhythm as whatever is working your cunt. It feels foreign...but not bad. In fact, it only adds to the build-up in your lower abdomen and you know you’ll be loud if he inserts another finger so you reach for one of the fluffy pillows, burying your face in it.

You can hear him chuckle. “Smart girl.”

And then, as you had predicted, he adds to the intrusion, scissoring and wriggling and pumping until you think you can handle it no longer. You breathe a sigh of relief when the emptiness returns even though you know that it’s a brief respite. Still, tears stream freely into the silk covered pillow.

Invisible hands keep still, simply holding you. Blunt and big, you recognize the insistent pressure against your hole for what it is.

“Too big!” you whimper when it feels like he’s splitting you open.

“Nonsense, my mouse,” he gasps, voice strained.

And indeed: somehow he does manage to fit. This time he pauses (although you’re sure it’s for his own sake rather than yours) before slowly beginning to rock. Slow at first, he eventually finds a rhythm that he probably could keep up for a long time if it wasn’t for the tightness you provide.

You? You’re forgetting how to breathe, finding a new pleasure that you had no idea existed. Your logic tells you to relax, but the adrenaline coursing through your body makes you clench, causing the god to swear.

As if to reward or punish you (you aren’t sure which) the magical stimulation begins anew. Rough, borderline painful. Circles are rubbed onto your clit and the feeling of both holes filled has your squeaking into the pillow but it far from hides the squelching sounds caused by the lewd actions.

Then he ups the pace, thrusting harder and deeper than you thought possible to bear and the dam breaks, flooding you although you never fully had recovered from the first time. You can’t help but scream, muffled as it may be. He rides you through it, prolonging the ecstasy until you beg him to stop and only then does he snap his hips one last time, filling you as he roars.

There’s no tenderness once it’s over. Just a simple dismissal causing you to dress in your ruined clothes, the trace of your sins still sticky between your legs and running down your thighs. But as you stand with the hand on the door handle, he calls to you from the bed:

“I expect you to bring my supper.”

[ray-jaykub]

Saw ur post requesting asks! Hmmm maybe somethinf with Raph and girl he just met who is shy, but really likes him! Shes an artist and tries to get him to paint..they maybe end up covered in said paint..which leads to kisses etc?

yeah I'm in love. I really love this and I actually have some other soft Raphael asks so this will definitely help fuel the ideas for those

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: None besides fluff and smooches ^^

word count: Idk I don’t keep track

When Raph first met Y/n he was almost positive they wouldn’t interact very much or even at all. That she’d probably float more towards Donnie or even maybe Mike, whose out going nature was toxic.

But, you had proven him wrong. When meeting with the group it was always you who would place yourself more near him. Although quiet it was obvious that you had preferred his presence over any of them and when Raphael had finally brought this up to his brothers they put it simply.

“No offense, but You come off as shy all the time.” Leo dries the cup Mikey had handed him.

“What? No, I don’t. When have I ever acted shy?” 

Mikey pipes up, handing another dish to Leo. “Well man, you’re always sitting away from everyone. Your arms all crossed and quiet, I always assumed you maybe had a hard time talkin to people.”  Raph shakes his head, thinking back to every event they were invited to. How he isolated himself in hopes of making people back off from his presence. Is that something a shy person would do?

“Why are you so worried about it anyway?” Leo cuts him a look, a look that say he thinks he knows more than he lets on. The red terrapin rolls his eyes, deciding to let it go.

----

The next time everyone's together it's for movie night, a every now and then weekend tradition April was insistent they do. They had just finished dinner, gathering plates and prepping snacks for the movie. Raphael sits in his spot on the couch, listening to his family decide on what movie to watch as they cleaned the kitchen together. His eyes are shut but when the seat next to him sinks with new weight he opens them to see Y/n. She isn't facing him, instead staring straight ahead. Her features are relaxed like she was doing the same thing he just was. He sits there watching her for another second before he speaks up.

"So uuh, what kind of movies do you like?" He thinks for a second, that was a normal question right? Especially since they're about to watch one. She tilts her head towards him and hums and reverently, like she's trying to keep the peace they've created, speaks. "I don't know, I kinda have a knack for anything. What about you?"

"Same, mostly action though." He doesn't notice the way his voice lowers with hers. "Every now and then April will put some romance on, those are nice too." She hums again and nods. "Good to know." They're both quiet again and before Raph can open his mouth again his family floods into to living room. Mikey jumps to sit right between Y/n and him, preventing further conversation. He turns away, the image of her relaxed face still fresh in his memory.

-----

They had already gotten used to each other at this point, having friendly conversation and this time when they speak to each other they're actually alone. She had been on the roof-top of her apartment when he had been on patrol. A blanket had been laid out with tubes of paint and worn paint brushes. Y/n hadn't noticed he was there, too immersed in capturing the scenery in front of her. He shifts his foot against the concrete to signal he was there but got no response. Cleared his throat even and she was still brushing over the canvas. He rolls his eyes, stepping to the edge of the blanket. "I didn't know you liked to paint."

Your head whips up, neck craning to see Raphael standing above you. "Raph! You scared me!" he huffs, biting his cheek to hide his smile. “Only because you’re so distracted. Should pay more attention, it’s dangerous out here.” You look down and in the light of the city Raph can see the way your face glows pink. Slowly he sits beside the blanket, cautious about disrupting your set up. “You’re uh, you’re really good though. Hell, Mikey only knows how to paint words.” You laugh and hands him one of the brushes, taking it, confused he raises his brow.

“How about you give it a try? I think you’d like it.” Over her painting? He tries to object but you tear the painting out of the book and set it aside to dry. Oh, that makes more sense. Better then letting him ruin it. He falters at the idea of ruining something, ruining this friendship.

“Raphael?” He blinks, focusing back on the small brush in his hand, back to the girl in front of him. “What?” You shake your head. “Nothing, just looks like you left me for a second... Anyways, as I was saying, you can paint whatever. Just don’t mix the paints.”

“Yeah, sounds easy enough”

It’s not even 5 minutes in when he knocks over a paint canister, it stains the blanket and he curses. “Shit, shit sorry! Hang on let me help.” He’s trying to pick the blanket up, to prevent it from spilling on the ground but doesn’t register the rest of the equipment. More paint is spilled and to his horror some splatters onto your clothes. It’s pure chaos and you jump up, grabbing your painting and the book, putting it out of reach. It looks perfectly fine and when you turn to make a joke you stop.

Raph stands among the blankets and paint, it covers his fore-arms and feet. His head is down and he’s sniffling. “Hey! hey, there’s nothing to be upset abo-” “I fucked up.” You slowly sit a paint covered hand on his shoulder. “I fucked up your paints, your blankets a mess and I got it on your clothes.” You look down, noticing the paint splattered on you and smile. You nudge him to turn and look at you, smearing purple on his shoulder.

“Listen Raph, the paint is washable. And I bought that blanket at a goodwill of all places, for this purpose. You didn’t mess up anything.” He still looks distant, losing himself in his anxiety. You look to your hand, mixed with purples, reds and greens.

“Boop!” A thick glob of paint is swiped across his snout, surprising him. “What?What are you doing?” “Boop!” another smear of paint on his pecs, he snorts and catches your hand. “What are you doing shorty?” “Trying to show you it’s not a big deal” Your left hand swiftly comes to wipe paint along his bicep, a thick pink streak. His shoulders shake with laughter, lifting his right hand, covered in a mixture of paint and pushing a hand print onto your cheek.

In a flash what was just playful smearing had turned into an all out paint war, globs of it had landed in your hair and his mask is coloured to the point of barely returning. It’s not long until you call a tie, out of breath you lean against him.

“Truce, you win! You win! No more” Your smile is so wide you can feel your cheeks ache. Looking up as he looks down you both end up nose to nose, your scent hidden by paint. Raphael takes a deep breath, lowering his voice. “Sorry for fucking up your paint again.” You shake your head and lean closer. “I told you it was fine, I’m having fun.” In the blink of an eye you step on your tip-toes, kissing one clean spot on his cheek. “I know I don’t act like it but I do like you Raph.” 

His eyes widen and he feels weightless, the kiss tingles his skin, embeds itself into his soul. Forming courage he leans down and presses a chaste kiss on your lips, slowly pulling back before he feels you tug him back down.

He didn’t ruin anything, far from it in fact.

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

sorry this took so long, Idk how I feel about the ending simply because I didn’t know how to end it :”) hope you enjoy it

[joyce-stick]

Here's my review of Bang Dream! It'sMyGO!!!!! on Letterboxd which incidentally is the only review of it on Letterboxd at this moment and I feel unreasonably braggadocios about having been the first one to leave a review for this particular show on that particular website

Okay so you should read that now but also I kinda want to mention a few specific things that really fucking got me in the show.

Scroll away if you don't want to spoil yourself or whatever.

First of all-ly. The live performances were really good. They surprised me a lot in that they actually very convincingly sold these girls as inexperienced amateurs who don't know how to work together.

When watching it, I was expecting the girls' first live performance to go like, y'know, big perfect hyper-well coreographed CGI anime girl song performance, like is normal in this genre generally.

Instead, THIS happens:

At this, I literally laugh-cried so hard so much. Like, god damn, the major anime music girls franchise let its girls just suck at the music, like actually seriously for real, just suck. And then they bounce back and do perform properly of course and get into a groove with each other, and it's really cool and energetic and stuff but

ALSO IT SOUNDS WRONG.

Like, the sound mixing is done wrong, on purpose. The instruments overtake Tomori's voice just a bit too much to still get across that they have still prepared really badly for this and are kind of still doing this sort of badly and that makes it cool when they give a good performance anyway.

Anyway. Then there's the whole arc with Soyo and her being emotionally manipulative to try and get her and Tomori's old band back together. And she's genuinely toxic and acts like an angry ex-wife who can't accept that her ex-wife has divorced her

(I need them to hatefuck about it. I need a hatefuck doujin of them now.)

And I kind of love-hated Soyo this whole time for being so emotionally manipulative and seeming almost hell-bent on burning all the bridges she has left but well anyway the thing that got me later is after Tomori gets everyone back together with her song poem and they all cry it out

And she's like "why??? I was so terrible and I used you" but even still Tomori expresses that it doesn't matter and she still wants them all together and just

AND IT'S SOO AAAAHHHHH

And that got me just because. Just. Forgiveness is just a really powerful thing and it takes a lot to do it and it's hard but sometimes you need to forgive your friends when they hurt you for things to move forward better than before and more often than not that's a losing gamble but it's so worth it when it pans out and aaahhhhhhhh

Oh, yeah, and then there's the ending reveal that Sakiko has an abusive father.

We'll have to wait to see how that plays into the Ave Mujica anime but that also really got me. That was something

And also um

I liked the gay aquarium penguins

Okay so anyway um

I have nothing more of significance to say at this time.

There. There's media talk rant ramble for that.

So here's our links etc if you want to leave a tip for this one

patreon | ko-fi

[an-theduckin]

can you ramble about the valentine episode? :3

YES YES YES YES YES YES !!!

SO THAT EPISODE IS THE EPISODE WHERE OUR SHIP BECOMES CANON. MR PLANT AND ARGOS BECOMES "MORE THAN FRIENDS". I REALLY REALLY LOVE THAT EPISODE, BECAUSE IT REALLY KINDA LIKE SUBVERTS THE NORMAL STUFF?? LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT LIKE, NORMALLY MR PLANT LIKES WATCHING TV BUT THAT DAY THE TV MADE EVERYTHING WORSE. NORMALLY ARGOS IS THE ONE WHO COMES TO HIS VOID BUT THAT DAY MR PLANT WENT TO HIS. NORMALLY MR PLANT AMD ARGOS ARE JUST FRIENDS BUT THAT DAY THAT CHANGED.

AS ALWAYS, I REALLY REALLY LOVE ASHUR'S ACTING WITH ARGOS. THE WAY HIS FACE SLOWLY TURNED INTO SADNESS WHEN HE WENT TO MR PLANTS VOID AND SAW MR FLOWERS PICTURE THERE, THE WAY HIS VOICE WAS SO UNCERTAIN WHEN HE ASKED IF THEY WERE MORE THAN FRIENDS, AS IF HE DIDNT WANNA GET HIS HOPES UP IN CASE HES WRONG, THE WAY HIS FACE LIT UP AND HE GOT ALL EXCITED AND COULDNT EVEN FORM A SENTENCE WHEN MR PLANT CONFIRMED IT.

ALSO ALSO, MAYBE IM JUST DELUSIONAL BUT. ARENT THESE THE CARDS THAT THE VALENTINE HEART GUY WAS SELLING???? DID MR PLANT TAKE ALL OF THEM, TRY TO FIND WHICH ONE WOUKD BE THE BEST TO GIVE ARGOS, BUT THEN SETTLED ON THE ACTUAL HEART GUY?????????

OH AND ALSO. I ALSO LOVE HOW WHEN ARGOS ASKED IF THEY WERE MORE THAN FRIENDS, MR PLANT SHRUGGED INSTEAD OF NODDING. I FEEL LIKE IT WAS A NICE TOUCH CUZ THIS SHOWS US HOW MR PLANT NORMALLY DONT FEEL LOVE YKK AND HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO PROCESS HIS EMOTIONS CUZ NOW HES FEELING LOVE. WHICH IS SMTH HE HASNT FELT FOR SUCH A LONG TIME.

ALSO I LOVE HOW THEY BOTH GOT IN EACH OTHERS HOUSES WHEN THE OTHER DIDNT OPEN THE DOOR FOR THEM. LIKE THEY HAVE EACH OTHERS HOUSE KEYS EVEN WHEN THEY WERE FRIENDS?? (OR MAYBE THEY JUST DONT HAVE LOCKS IN THE VOID)

IM KINDA SAD THE HEART GUYS DEAD THO LIKE. I ACTUALLY LIKE HIM SO MUCH AS A SIDE CHARACTER I WISH HE WAS BACK. I LOVE HIS SIMPLE AND CUTE YET SLIGHTLY UNSETTLING CHARACTER DESIGN, I LOVE HIS Y/N BLUE ORBS, I LOVE HIS LOVE FOR VALENTINES DAY (VALENTINES DAY IS ACTUALLY MY FAV HOLIDAY!!), I LOVE HIS VOICE, I JUST LOVE HIS OVERALL CHARACTER.

Anddddd that's all for the rambling!! This was so fun omg yall if u want me to ramble about an episode just go ahead and ask me for it like I actually love LOVE rambling it's so fun!!!