#i want to squish her to death

[hee-uwu]

every day i wake up and think about weiss schnee. what a time to be alive

[zemnarihah]

two most pathetic beasts on gods green earth

[wakingbeast]

art trades are fun, you get to violently grab someone's super cute character by their throat, threaten their entire family, run them through a digital printer onto a blank canvas, and throw them against someone else's face yelling "FUCK YOU FOR DRAWING MY CHARACTER"

this also applies to art fight lol

anyways, here's an art trade I judt finished! Characters name is marble :D

[ohdeerfully]

K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.” 

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.

[2tarbell]

hiii!!! i’m having thoughts of high sex w rafe,, like him doing lines off your cleavage or thighs (maybe even body lines mid-fuck🫢) is just sooo mmmhrmghgrr

and usually he’s pretty strict about letting you drink or do drugs, but when he’s drunk or high himself it’s just so much harder to say no to you (and reader kinda knows it too like she’s fs waiting until he’s in such a good mood from the high to give him her best puppy dog eyes she knows he can’t resist)

p.s. i absolutely adored ur bfb rafe work it was delicious🥰

ೀ high sex with BF!RAFE is always delicious. it’s usually in missionary, rafe too faded to switch to any other position. he’s almost entirely lost in the pleasure and it’s the hottest thing ever, softer in the way he touches you and rolls his hips against yours. his jaw slack and eyes fluttering, deep breaths and low moans of your name and dirty talk. his voice wavers and breaks when you clench around him. but his high is waning, you can tell by the way his usual roughness peeks through as he bites at your neck. 

with a heavy sigh (you’d call him dramatic if you didn’t wanna come so bad) he sits back on his legs. his hard cock slips out of your slick warmth and he runs the length through your puffy folds in attempt to placate your whines. the tip kisses your clit a few times and rafe chuckles breathlessly at the way you jolt. always his sensitive girl. when he reaches over to the beside table, you know what he’s about to do, and it makes your cunt drool in anticipation.

“hold ‘em together— good girl, lookin’ so pretty f’me…”

with your tits squished together by your hands, rafe dumps some of the white powder onto the plush flesh. he smiles at you in a boyish way that contradicts the illegal substance he’s pouring onto your body. with focused eyes and a trained hand, he makes the crisp line. when he leans down to snort it, he pushes back into your pussy and it makes you heave out a moan. he makes a show of kissing down your breast until he takes one hardened bud into his mouth, nipping and pulling back until it slips away with a pop.

you wiggle your hips when he sits back again, the heavy weight of him sitting inside of you making you restless. his head is tipped forward and eyes closed, large hands squeezing and rubbing your hips in as the coke does its magic. once he looks back down at you spread open on his length, looking at him with those sparkly doe eyes, he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t gimme that look—“ his voice is gruff in that way that makes you feel all girly and warm. you run a hand up his arm and feel the strong muscle under the skin, you don’t miss how he flexes under your touch. it tangles in his hair and he can’t stop himself from turning and pressing a sweet kiss to your wrist, the high making your touch feel like fire. a smile makes it way onto your cock drunk face. rafe huffs, and squeezes your hips harder in a playful warning.

“c’mon, daddy— pleaseee? jus’ a little?” that pleading tone and pouty lip might just be the death of him.

rafe reaches a hand between you, gathering the creamy wetness of your previous orgasm that’s leaked around his dick. he uses the wet finger to pick up the leftover dust on your tits. with a lazy smirk, he shoves his finger into your awaiting mouth, smearing the coke and cum over your gums.

he then leans over you again, pulling out only to start thrusting his hips deeply into you, resuming his pace from earlier. his fingers squishing your cheeks as he presses a kiss to your puckered lips.

“happy now? always— always askin’ me for shit— ‘m already fucking you and y’still want more.”

his grumble only makes you smile triumphantly, legs wrapping around his waist tighter as his thrusts get faster and you thank him in pathetic babbles.

[dadsbongos]

ANOTHER ONE

fucking stupid part 2 i did for my yuuji fic for ao3 :) and decided to post here lol

2.1 K words

warnings - 18+ mdni !!, pwp, penis IN vagina, thigh fucking, tummy bulge (+pressin on it), minor headlock action, yuuji is hesitant but not NOT into it, a lot of drool, mentions of sukuna's cannibal past (not sexified)

Yuuji excels at the single most important tenet of being a boyfriend.

Compromise.

A giver at heart and selfless and so, so loving, he practically bends to your every whim - something Nobara and Megumi love teasing him over. Yes, he would crab walk over glass if you so much as asked, but he will not bend to this.

“I don’t trust you,” Yuuji is stubborn on this, and this alone.

“I’m the reason you’re with her!” the red eye stabs him through your bathroom mirror, “You forget that, vermin!”

“You’re literally in my body,” he sighs, “And keep your voice down, I don’t want her hearing us argue,” at the unimpressed stare Sukuna levels him with, Yuuji only sighs louder, “I don’t know why you even think she’ll want you.”

“I know her body more than you could ever hope to, worm,” if Sukuna notices the way Yuuji huffs, he certainly doesn’t let it be known, “Studied it to perfection years ago, and spent my time in solitude remembering every detail. Every stretch mark and curve and swell of fat - I know her body better than you. I know it.”

Well, he was stubborn on this.

“Be nice,” Yuuji grips the smooth counter of your sink, he could never hold out against you and your batting lashes and sweet voice, “I’m taking over the second she seems upset.”

Another low-lidded, testing glare from Sukuna, and Yuuji shakes his head before throwing the bathroom door open.

“Well?” your fingers lace together in your lap, bottom lip tight between your teeth.

Centuries ago, in different bodies, the two of you were in this same position - with a different question on your lips.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Sukuna had settled in beside you, the tatami mat squishing beneath his heavy weight and he still towered over you, “Speak up.”

“Well,” you leaned back, head falling against your pillow and fluttering your lashes up at Sukuna, “Would you eat me?”

Rolling over, Sukuna planted a knee between your legs with two arms holding himself from crushing you, the remaining two curled around your waist, “How do you mean, hm?”

Reaching a hand up, your soft palm cradled the unhardened side of his face, giggling when his tongue lolled against the tip of your thumb, “You know how I mean.”

He did. It’s something you’d mentioned since falling into poor health - a stiff question that leaves his heart cold and skin raised. When he should’ve been used to this. He was. He’d eaten many people before you and, even then, he was certain he'd eat many people after you. You’d fed him. You’d helped Uraume cook his meals. You were used to this.

Sensing his hesitation, you slid your hand from his cheek to ghost your fingertips over his lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers, Sukuna’s lids were low as he stared down at you - and he knew the answer you didn’t want to hear.

“It’d be an honor,” you cooed, because of course you already knew which way he was leaning, “To be with you like that. Forever.”

“Greedy,” he teased, slipping from his knees to sit back. He scooped you up with his hold around your waist to settle you atop his lap, his other two hands cupped your cheeks. Your own hand moved down to the base of his throat, fingers tracing the bridge of his collarbones, “Eating you would be a disservice to this beautiful body.”

The word is nourishing, spring water on a dry tongue. You used to fear a long, drawn-out death (not death, not around Sukuna), you’ve seen these same sunken eyes and shaking hands in others. And you did not find them awe-inspiring. But Sukuna has given you no question if his eyes still fell upon you kindly.

You frowned and he scoffed, “You won’t even think about it?”

But Yuuji has no idea about any of that.

Yuuji sits beside you and takes your hands tightly between his, “I can always come back.”

“I know!” you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, “I’m just curious.”

Because there has to be something Sukuna can offer if he insists on maintaining this obsession with you (in front of your boyfriend, no less).

…

“Are you nervous, bunny?”

Your heart beats in your throat. Your palms soak into the sheets when you grip them. Your bottom lip is on the brink of bleeding between your teeth. But no, no you are not nervous.

No matter how much you probably should be. And no matter how much it should’ve taken, Sukuna doesn’t take long to put you on your back - lips locked to yours. He cackles cruelly when you huff after he pulls away.

Sukuna binds your knees together, plush thighs trapped against one another. Releasing one knee just to feed his cock through the wetted spot between your thighs, he quickly flushes his chest against the back of your thighs. Both arms winding around your legs to keep them shut around him.

“So wet from just a little kissing,” he stares down at where the head of his cock peeks out, kissing your clit on the way. He fucks your thighs slowly, taking earnest joy in how you whine.

Your teeth sink into the back of your hand at the sensation of Sukuna parting your lips and bumping your clit with his dick. He groans, deep in the back of his throat, when he can feel that gush of slick from your cunt.

“I knew this brat couldn’t care for my bunny as I can,” he slips from between your thighs entirely to press his tip inside you. Your chest rises in a quick gasp, jerking at the intrusion, “You missed me,” he states simply, settling his weight on his elbows beside your head as he teases slow thrusts, “Cunt’s sucking me back in,” he snickers at your squeaking as his hips speed up, “You missed me so much.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t call him on it when he’s clawing at your sides and thighs to flip you onto your stomach, perking your hips snugly against his.

“I’ve seen him,” his hand presses against your lower belly, thrusting down and deep and hitting that spot Yuuji magically detects and obsesses over - that spot that makes drool humiliate the corners of your lips, “That brat abusing your poor clit. Like you can’t cum without it.”

“Huh…” your mushy brain barely registers the disrespect to your boyfriend, “hey…!��

“Do you wanna show him I can fuck you better?” despite that questioning lilt, you don’t think a response could change his pre-determined mind, “I can make you cum without setting a fire between your legs.”

He pulls out slow and miserable, smoothing the hand not on your tummy down your back and curling into your hair.

Sukuna leans his weight into you when he bottoms out, he laughs watching your cheek smush against your mattress. He laughs as his hand untangles from your hair to squeeze around the soft fat of your hip. He laughs when you wheeze with the springs as he pulls out and thrusts back in, rolling his hips flush against you.

“What a good bunny I have,” he coos, slicking his hot tongue over the exposed flesh of your neck, relishing in how his skin audibly pap, papa, paps against yours. You moan, lightheaded, and your forehead hangs into your pillow. He presses on that spot where he bulges inside you, going mad over the choked gasp in your throat, “My sweet bunny.”

Curling an arm around your throat, Sukuna’s muscles squeeze around the soft flesh of your neck. Desperately, the skin of his chest clings to your back as he leans down, teething at the sensitive spot on your shoulder - the one Yuuji bites and the one he bit for himself centuries ago. Licking the sweat from your body and cackling as you squirm under the slick, wet run of his tongue.

His hips quicken, borderline battering that spot in your cunt to really make you messy. You bury your face into the soft pillow, but Sukuna ‘tsk’s and undoes the arm from your neck to lift your chin. He licks up the drool from your lips and swallows the pitchy moans he’s been starving for from behind Yuuji’s ears.

He consumes you, melding your skin to his and ensuring you cannot leave again.

“Good- “ he grits it between clenched teeth, “girl! Good girl. Good girl,” he grunts each word between thrusts. He groans, thick and gravelly, digging his nails into your soft skin, “My best fucking girl.”

Your face is on fire, the backs of your thighs clinging to Sukuna’s, and the wetness of your cunt stringing between the both of you. Loud, sloppy echoes of that wetness only make the fire burn hotter. You whine, hands scrambling back and clinging to Sukuna’s thighs, nails biting into the thick muscle.

“Aw, you’re squeezing me,” Sukuna refuses to slow down, bouncing your body on his cock from behind, “Are ya gonna cum, bunny?”

And any respect you were trying to maintain for your out-of-commission boyfriend is quickly tossed aside, “Yes! Yes, ‘m gonna cum, Sukuna…!”

“You want me to make you cum?” he reaches both hands down and takes hold of your face, fingers dipping into your open mouth, “Say it, bunny - fuck - say you want me to make you cum.”

As best you can through his fingers parting your lips and pressing on your tongue, you cry, “Please, Sukuna- please, please make me cum. Wanna cum, wanna cum with you, need you to make me cum…!”

“Need me,” Sukuna repeats, palms soft against you despite bullying his cock into your weepy hole, “Need me, need me, need me…”

“Uh… huh,” you whine, the coil in your stomach eats at itself and your thighs shake, “Need you, Sukuna! Need - hah! - need… cum, please!”

“Cum for me, bunny,” he teases his fingers further into your throat, just to see if you’ll remember.

“God- fuck!” your hands cinch around his thighs just as your cunt does to his cock, tugging him closer, deeper as you finally soak him in your cum. Chanting his name with a sugary, soft, “Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!”

You don’t seem to recognize it, the need to cum overshadowing the need to meld your bodies into one.

His cock spits hot cum in your tight, sucking cunt despite the realization. He keeps himself pressed against you, dragging his fingers from your mouth and circling his arms around your soft waist.

Sukuna rolls onto his back, pulling you on his chest and letting his softening cock slip from you. He peppers your raw, marked shoulder in tender kisses - then moving to your neck - then your cheek. He feels your cheeks ball up in a grin under his attention.

Your ditzy head falls against his shoulder and he doesn’t know how much longer he has like this. So he ignores the cooling saliva on his fingers and the mixed cum flowing from your hole and onto his thigh. He never minded the mess before, and he certainly doesn’t mind it now.

“Don’t forget me, hm?” you blink up at him drowsily, “If you ever get tired of that brat.”

You don’t remember asking him to gobble you up, and you don’t remember wanting to clutch his hand in your final moments, but you still see something in him. Something he thought was sealed away long, long ago.

He misses you. Whatever life you shared, he hasn’t been able to mourn.

Giggling, you nod and kiss his cheek. He slips hair from your hair and studies the way you flutter into sleep. Commits it to his memory and lets Yuuji take back the body with little more than a scoff.

You rouse later in the night, feeling your bed dip beside you, a thick warm arm sweeping you into an equally warm chest. A steady heartbeat ba-dumps into your ear. You nestle into the cradle.

“Cleaned ya and then showered,” Yuuji murmurs, lips soft against your forehead, “I take it you liked the big guy?”

Snorting, you nod sluggishly, cheek sticking to his skin, “Mhmm.”

“Good,” he suddenly groans, “Sukuna doesn’t know anything!”

“Mh?”

“I can make you cum without your clit,” he pouts, looking down at you despite your closed eyes, “You believe in me, right, babe?”

“Mhm.”

“Exactly. Thank you!” he kisses your forehead this time, “Alright, we’ll try that another day. Get some sleep already, jeez!”

“Hm!” you huff fitfully.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers, “Shutting up now.”

And, for now, you ignore how right it felt to have Sukuna’s mean fingers fucking your mouth.

~~~

people i think will be into this @moonlitdivination @kingofthe-egirls

[reveluving]

batfam + batmom + hugs 💗

warnings: pure fluff! (I just wanna give hugsss)

check out my batmom m.list!

your face squished against bruce's greek god pecs before melting his heart when you arms can barely accommodate his sheer size and with your pretty sparkly eyes as you shyly look up at him. not finding it enough, he gently tilts your head up by the chin to return your gaze

having a literal competition on who hugs the best between you and dick—he always says that your hugs are equivalent to your best-selling cookies

jason stopping by the manor and immediately giving you a hug, relishing in the comfortable silence and his mother's presence after a rough night

kneeling next to tim's seat before wrapping your arms around his tired frame, hoping to convince him to turn in for the night. you know he finally gives in when he leans in your hold

returning duke's hug with a tighter one despite getting caught off guard, but then getting over it when you feel his body tremble and tears staining your shirt

unable to resist squishing your cheek against cass' when she comes up to you without a word, only to open her arms in anticipation for a big ol' mother-daughter hug

damian not only tolerating your sudden need for hugs, but embracing it as well, which some would find the sight funny, for you would emit an aura of flowers and bubbles while his comprises daggers and death and yet, he returns your hugs with zero shame

giving steph a bear hug just after you returned cass', finding amusement in the former's pout for she, too, wants to be attacked by your motherly affections as well

terry glaring at his classmates who either whisper to their buddies about wanting a hug from you too or openly ogle at you—if the family heard about this, it's over for these idiots

giggling with matt as you swoop him up for a hug and twirling with him in your arms, filling the manor with the sounds of your joy—bonus if ace and titus joins your fun, running in circles and barking in excitement

babs comforting you by letting you hold her tight after finally being able to get ahold of family who's out patrolling after a heart-stopping moment when the connection somehow gets lost

alfred celebrating yet another milestone as your café reaches the targeted earning with you, always honoured to be a part of your life, for you have not only saved his, but the entire family in general

kate greeting you with a hug whenever she's invited for a big family dinner/holiday, always jokingly thanking you for keeping the family and especially her cousin in check

always making the mistake of kneeling whenever ace and titus runs up to you before falling onto your back when they literally jump into your arms, giggling as they lick your face as an apology

nuzzling your face into alfred the cat's soft fur as he purrs and curls in your arms, his tail swishing in annoyance if anyone tries to pry him off you

overall: batmom's hugs are a 12/10, would recommend 🤌🏻

[daddyhausen]

commision for — @the-anxious-youth

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• shut your mouth before i fuck it — rhea ripley •

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{ masterlists } | { wwe masterlist } | { rhea ripley masterlist }

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{ summary } — a house party for liv’s birthday turns sour for rhea upon catching you getting a bit to comfortable with the birthday girl. she reminds you exactly who you belong to.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, wlw, oral sex, scissoring, strap-on, markings, hickeys, groping, public teasing, hair pulling, jealous sex, dominant x submissive dynamic, sub!reader, dom!rhea, mommy kink, brat taming, fingering, choking, forced orgasms, vaginal sex ,rough sex, penetrative sex, female orgasm, multiple orgasms, squirting

{ word count } — 4.2k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x rhea ripley

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @adamjf @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

the air was thick, a mix, a stench more like it of alcohol and tobacco flooded rhea’s nostrils, a cloud of smoke fluttered  across her cheeks from an unknown and quite frankly intoxicated party goer, reeking of cheap whiskey and menthol, the scents alone caused no harm, but the combination of the almost vinegary scent of the cheap drink along with the pungent, and quite frankly overpowering mintiness of the menthol made her eyes water, desperately trying to suppress herself from dry-heaving. god, why does liv need to go above and beyond with her parties? they’d become meaningless in rhea’s eyes, just another year closer to death she always says, why would you feel the need to celebrate something so morbid?

rhea let her eyes tiredly scan liv’s kitchen, the room looked more like a barren wasteland than a place she could drunkenly cook breakfast in the morning, empty bottles and cups strewn across the floor, vodka spilling out from the closest one beside her feet as she tried her best to not ruin her shoes with the substance. a pizza box with the contents half eaten inside, an inebriated couple doing what she could assume was making out behind the counter, although she did not witness much kissing in the second she had made eye contact, more like clashing teeth and absentminded face sucking it seemed. 

her ears began to ring from the sheer loudness of the music, it wasn’t an exhilarating ring you’d like the one you’d get during a concert, but more of a banshees shrill directly into her eardrums. she turned the corner into the living room, to find it more populated by inhabitants of the party, rhea was certain that she did not even recognise or know about ninety percent of the partygoers, maybe a handful at most, liv’s house almost about to burst at the seams from the amount of drunken bodies squished so tightly into one room. 

she met the eyes of a partially drunk dominik, the youngest of her quartet slumped against the wall furthest from the crowd, eyes sunken with a drunken stupor, slowly batting in and out of sleep. a sober and steadier damian priest keeping a watchful eye over the judgment day’s protégé. rhea made her way towards them, keeping her side firmly pressed against the wall so as to not get lost in the crowd of intoxicated bodies.

damian met her gaze with a soft nod in acknowledgment, opting to stay silent rather than strain his voice with screaming over the blare of music and chatter. he motioned for dominik to do the the same, offering a light tap to the back of the boy’s head in encouragement and more to rouse him out of his intoxicated state. dominik stared up at rhea, eyes glassed over and bloodshot with inebriation, his head craned forward slightly with a small nod before slumping back against the wall.

“have you seen y/n anywhere?” she questioned through a yell, despite having leaned into priest’s ear. the tallest of the three, furrowed his brows at the question, almost trying to comprehend the words that had just left rhea’s lips. 

“wasn’t she with you?” damien queried, the deep rumble of his voice seemed to match the bass of the music 

“wasn’t she in the kitchen with liv?” dominik slurred, trying to stand before damian shoved him back down by the shoulder, a silent warning to keep still until he sobered up.

“i was just in the kitchen.” rhea retorted, her accent becoming more predominant and thick the more her anger and impatience swelled within her. 

“what are we talking about?” an all too eager finn balor chimed in, that irish charm rang thick in his accent. hands full with whiskey, handing one to each member aside dominik, who gave a sour scowl, clearly not amused at the way he’s been cut off from the drink. damian, annoyed with having to play chaperone to the youngest, rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction.

“do you know where y/n is?” rhea responded with a dull, annoyed tone in her voice. “i’ve been looking for her for the past ten minutes”

“wasn’t she with you?” finn quipped with a puzzled expression. 

“no.” rhea fumed, impatience burning inside her veins. 

the irishman pondered in thought for a moment, pressing his shoulder into the wall as a group of stumbling drunks passed him by. rhea grew anxious at the prospect of her love being lost in a crowd of drink-fueled idiots, though her exterior remained cold and stubborn. 

“out with it!-“ the sheer magnitude of rhea’s voice was enough to bring dominik out of his drunken stupor for a moment, the youngest butting the back of his head against the wall he’d been resting it on. a groan of pain followed, priest’s usually calloused demeanor broken for a second as he tried to stifle his giggles at poor dominik’s pain.

“alright, alright. don’t get your fucking panties in a twist, jesus.” finn resumed his train of thought, practially unfazed by rhea’s impatient mutterings.

“oh yeah, i remember now.” finn clicked his fingers all too chipperly upon his remembrance. “last i saw out in the yard with liv. by the pool i think.”

“thank you” rhea remarked, downing the drink before handing, well rather tossing the cup back at finn, who, along with priest and dominik stood perplexed. watching her squeeze through the sea of bodies.

“what’s her problem?” dominik questioned wearily, finally coming out of his beer and whiskey fueled haze.

“i’d rather not find out…” damian sighed, eyeing the now empty bottom of his drink.

finn gave a small sigh in contemplation, effectively choosing to ignore rhea’s attitude for the time being

“well, i don’t know about you lads but i’m getting me another drink” 

-

rhea kept silent, shoving her way through the plethora of bodies, offering those who dared to question her motives a piercing glare. the glass sliding door glimmering with fairy lights strung loosely over the top frame, whatever she could make of the outside reminded her of an oasis. she could make out your figure through the smoke haze of the fog machine, she’d recognise your figure anywhere. she reached the door, peering out into the dead of night, the only light was from the living room, projecting out into the crystal blue of the pool. 

there you sat at the edge of the pool, feet lazily swishing the water. your body only shielded from the gaze of others with a tight black, micro bikini. rhea cocked her eyebrows at the ensemble, noticing that it was definitely not the outfit you’d worn when arriving. the faith you’d put in that piece of cloth was astronomical. your breasts barely covered, bar your nipples, so full and round, the string keeping the piece together was holding on by a literal thread. her eyes traveled down reaching the axis of your hip, having to squint her eyes to even make out the matching thong. your perky ass in full view and on display for all onlookers to see. 

rhea envisioned a scenario in her mind. the ensemble would burst at the seams, falling off your body like nothing more than a feather. your full breasts spilling out of the fabric, bouncing with their movements, so supple and soft. your pretty cunt bare and exposed, ready to accept punishment from her tongue and fingers. the buildup of wetness and arousal between rhea’s thighs just from the sight alone was almost too much to ignore, just to hear your sweet moans and pleas as she devoured your sweet pussy in front of everyone would definitely be a sight to behold. it was the perfect excuse and rhea needed the fresh air anyway.

the aroused trance faded for a moment as she came to. rhea gazed further into the night, further into you. another figure swam idly t your feet. the birthday girl had emerged from the watery depths, resting her head upon your thigh. liv’s eyes stared lustfully into yours, her lips eerily close to your clothed cunt, rhea observed the way you squirmed slightly whenever liv seemed to mutter out a sentence. your hand nestled in the blonde’s hair, massaging lightly, a playful glimmer in your eyes. 

despite the shine of blue from the pool, rhea saw red. you were too sweet and naive to notice but rhea clearly understood liv’s lustful intentions, despite the two of you being friends. rhea kept her demeanor calm for the most part, trying to quell her anger whilst it boiled deep inside her chest. she stormed outside, almost certain she’d ripped the door clean off its hinges. she made a beeline for you, paying no mind to the birthday girl, she grabbed your wrist as you hastily tried to wrap a towel around your lower half and retrieve your clothing.

“rhea, what are you?-“

“we’re leaving.” rhea remarked bluntly, dragging you away.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow liv!” you shouted through the middle of music and crowd noise, leaving the poor blonde alone in the pool. 

rhea dragged you around to the side entrance, she did not want anymore unwanted eyes on the body she’d rightfully claimed as her own to stare at. 

“hey! where are we going!?” you retaliated, trying to pry your arm from your girlfriend's grasp. she remained silent, a scowl permanent on her lips. 

you’d made it to the car with much defiance on your part. she opened the door, practically throwing you in the passenger seat with a disgruntled groan. quickly taking her position in the driver's seat.

“what the fuck is your problem?!” you seethed at the fiery aussie, who merely stared dead at the road, knuckles gripped tightly, flushed bone white  against the leather of the steering wheel.

“hello?!-“

“why you gotta dress like a little whore around liv? you know she’s got the hots for you, princess” 

“is that really your problem,” you scoffed  “liv is just a friend and i can dress however i want it’s my body”

rhea’s hand released from the steering wheel, sneaking under the towel to tightly grip your exposed, still damp thigh. her strength alone sent a shiver down your spine and a thump of arousal straight to your core.

“princess…” she began. her eyes never leaving the road but her fingers creeping up to the string of the thong, toying with it between her fingertips

“i know your body better than anyone. i know how you feel, the way you taste, the way you liked to be manhandled and fucked out. i know things that liv only wished she knew”

you rolled your eyes at rhea’s statement, pretending that her words had no effect on you, despite the blush burning hot against your cheeks. her fingers caressing the skin of your hip with featherlight touches.

“so..?” you remarked, trying not to stutter through your words. “you don’t own me”

rhea gave a half hearted chuckle at your words

“oh sweetheart, but i do” she began. “who puts that pretty cunt to sleep at night? who makes you gush like a waterfall? who leaves you begging and screaming for more. it certainly ain’t liv” 

a satisfied smirked crossed rheas lips, acting all proud as if she’s won the argument, if you’d even call it that, her fingers released the string with a tight snap against you skin, the feeling sent shockwaves to your core. rhea couldn’t help but let her eyes fall off the road for a moment, to your breasts again as she did by the pool, how they bounced and jiggled with every bump and dip in the road. if she weren’t driving right now she’d rip that microscopic piece of fabric right off your form.

“you’re so insufferable” you mumbled to yourself, loud enough for her to hear, folding your arms across your chest.

“you won’t be saying that when my head is buried between your thighs, sweetheart” 

-

the rest of the drive home was met with disgruntled silence from both of you. rhea pulled up into the driveway in silence. only a glance on her part that allowed you to exit the car. you did albeit meekly with some retaliation, only for her glare to harden. she followed you up the stairs, grinding her hips against yours as you reached the front door, her hands held a death grip on your waist as you shakily fiddled with the keys.

“hurry up princess, don’t keep mommy waiting now” 

you gulped thickly feeling her hands trail up your waist as you hastily unlocked the door. you entered, desperately trying to make a beeline for your bedroom but rhea held you back for a moment, kicking the door closed with the heel of her foot. 

“hold on a second.” she ordered. keeping you grounded in your position momentarily. her fingers twirled the corner of the towel haphazardly tucked into itself, keeping a shield between your body and hers. she ripped it from your form with haste, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud.

she inspected your body for a moment, letting her hands roam your form, squeezing and groping your supple flesh in her palms.

“such a pretty little get up” she remarked at the two-piece. her hands coming up to cup your breasts in her large palms, feeling your nipples harder under the still-damp fabric. 

“and why didn’t i get to see you in it first? why did you have to parade yourself in it for all those people to see, like a little whore?” rhea hummed against your skin, sucking and nipping the skin in the crook of your neck.

“i..” you mumbled through a moan as rhea’s hands grew more aggressive.

“c’mon, use your words like a big girl,” she teased, pinching your nipples through the fabric.

“i…i wanted to surprise you mommy…” you lied through your teeth. you just wanted the attention. rhea always gave you the utmost love and attention, but you wanted to experience it from strangers, feel their unknown eyes wandering your body, so hungry for a taste they’ll never get to try. you got off on it and you knew that secretly rhea did as well. 

“hmm, sure you did princess” her lips popped against your skin, a reddish mark left in their wake, one that would take days to heal. she snapped the strap of the bikini top against your skin, earning a harsh hiss on your part. 

“upstairs.” she commanded. following you close as you trudged up the stairs, arousal pooling between your thighs. she pushed you into the bed harshly, already positioning herself between your thighs. your fingers hooked into the string of your thong to pry them down for her before she swatted your hand away with a rough slap.

“keep ‘em on” 

you obeyed.

she licked a hot stripe against the fabric. the faint feeling of her tongue pressed against your covered clit had you shivering. she gave soft kisses to your core, tonguing the flesh around your clit, bypassing your sensitive pearl each time. you whined in frustration, wanting her to just devour your cunt.

“what?” she smirked. “you didn’t think i was gonna play nice with you after that stunt you pulled back there?”

you went pale at the thought. rhea was never ever liberal with her punishments.

“oh sweetheart. i’m gonna have so much fun with you” 

she undid the ties to the thong. the small bows at your hips fell with ease. her slender fingers prying at the fabric, your cunt slick with arousal, leaving a damp spot in the material. you heard her hum in contentment, her tongue jutting out past her bottom lip, the glimmer of her tongue piercing just barely visible under the dull moonlight bleeding from the small cracks in the blinds.

“so wet for me…” she remarked, although her voice lowered, a growl almost present in her words. she kneeled before you, hooking her arms underneath your knees. dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. she marveled at the sight between your thighs, your cunt drenched, dripping with sweetness and warmth, she smirked to herself, knowing that it was indeed her doing. 

with no warning she dived in, the cool sensation of her tongue piercing made you shiver as the metal made contact with your sensitive clit. she maintained eye contact throughout, those piercing blues staring directly into your soul as she devoured you. her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and nibbling at your swollen pearl. maybe you should flirt with liv more often if this were to be your punishment. 

your hand fell into her hair, tugging at the dyed, coal black roots, pushing her head down so her tongue could fuck you senseless. she smiled into your warmth at the action, opting to accentuate your pleasure. she pulled away from your warmth for a second to speak, her breath heavy and labored. 

“such a pretty girl, you love getting off on mommy’s tongue don’t you?” she cooed, keeping her lips close to your clit, peppering gentle, featherlight kisses to your outer walls each time you squirmed into yourself.

“yes mommy” you panted breathlessly, groping your breasts absentmindedly. she gave another soft smile, returning her head between your thighs, this time with the addition of two fingers, her middle and ring fingers. as she tongued your clit, slowly, making sure you could feel the metal of her piercing with each swirl, she added her fingers, beginning to spread your folds and fill your void with ease. 

she would not go easy on you, oh no. despite her trickery, leading you into a false sense of security before she absolutely wrecked you. her tongue flicked your clit in rapid succession, her fingers pumping and curling deep inside your cunt. she kept her eyes on you, how you’d squeeze and toy with your breasts, the flesh now free from the miniscule restraint of the bikini top, pierced nipples now on display. rhea’s free hand came up to tug on one of the piercings, twirling the black bar between her thumb and forefinger, adoring the way you squirmed and whined at the new sensation.

“thats it you dumb little girl, fuck yourself on my fingers for me”

rhea could taste how close you were, how your cunt throbbed around her fingers, how your swollen clit twitched with every movement of her tongue. her spit spread across your folds and inner thighs, sweetness forming a pool in the bedsheets below. you could not hold out much longer, the pleasure was far too much for you to handle. you tried your best to refrain, to stop the flood gates from opening, and you knew there would be consequences if you were to cum without her permission. 

“m-mommy-” you whimpered through choked moans, hips circling so your clit could receive more friction from her tongue. 

“yes, baby” she hummed into your clit. her words buzzed against your skin, leaving you numb in pleasure, afraid to spill over. you held out for a moment, trying to come to but your words would not leave your throat, seemingly trapped like concrete in your chest.

“you wanna cum don’t you?” she queried, the twang of her australian accent running thick as she moaned into you. you nodded, far too hastily for you own liking. you would have liked to hold out for a moment or two longer, just for the feeling of her tongue but you couldn’t wait much more.

“then cum. show me how much of a good, obedient girl you can be” 

you heeded her words, sweetness gushing like a fountain from between your thigh prompted by her. she smiled into you, drinking you in as if it were her first taste of heaven. and in heaven she was, she pried her fingers from your warmth, returning her hands under your thighs once more, dragging you closer so she could fuck you deeper with her tongue, 

she’d left your thighs shaking upon coming down from your high, breathless and sopping wet as you tried to regain yourself. she silently excused herself to the closet, leaving you to bask in your post-orgasm thoughts for a moment or two, staring up at the ceiling you noticed the small chips of paint beginning to flake and the thin cracks around the lighting fixture, something you hadn’t really picked up on before. not that it mattered. 

rhea soon returned, standing in front of you, her body bare, the only concealed parts of her skin were those covered in ink. her tattoos suited her frame so well, bringing character to an otherwise blank canvas. in her hand she held a harness and your favorite dildo. it was a simple, sleek design, black silicone with little purple hearts encased on the mold, roughly about eight inches in length and roughly five inches in girth. one that she had used on you many times beforehands. 

you watched on silently as she prepared herself, her body hovering over yours as she fastened the toy into the harness. her breath labored slightly as she teased your folds with the tip of the toy, pressing it rather harshly against your swollen clit, a whimpered breath left your lips at the action.

“you gonna be a good little whore for mommy?” she questioned, cocking her eyebrow playfully as she stared you down, jutting her hips forward, the tip of the dildo grinding against your entrance. you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure once again rising between your thighs as her hips guided the toy across your clit.

“uh ah, sweetheart” she slapped your cheek lightly, rousing your eyes open. 

“look at me” she demanded, taking you by the chin, forcing you to look up at her. she repeated her phrase. emphasizing each word that left her lips with a pause

“y-yes mommy…” you whimpered meekly, feeling her grip on your chin loosen. a smirk creeped upon her cheeks, sliding the toy deep inside without warning. a choked gasp left your throat, feeling the dildo fully succumbed inside your warmth, to the point where you could feel her warmth radiating through the thin harness.

“oh fuck, baby. look how well you take it” she forced your head to look down at yourself. how your cunt clenched around the thick toy, how it bobbed in and out of your warmth complemented by rhea’s thrusts. 

“god…if i had a cock i would breed this pathetic cunt day and night” rhea’s growls resonated in the surrounding silence, echoing in your ears with such devilish praise. her body hovered over yours, securing you against the mattress, her breasts bouncing with every thrust she gave. you angled your head up slightly, the tip of your tongue barely grazing against her perky nipples, the buds swollen and hard from the chill of the midnight air. 

rhea hissed in delight at the sensation, in response, her hips gave a rather hard thrusts, a whirlwind of moans fluttered from your lips. she let her head fall between the valley of your breasts, licking a hot stroke up your skin, sucking and nipping the area and the surrounding mounds of flesh, marking you up with lustful bruises, all in varying shades of purple and pink. she let her lips trail to your right nipple, kissing the sensitive, pierced flesh lightly before biting down on it, tugging the bar between her teeth, letting her tongue roll over your nipple, leaving a glossy wet trail in its wake.

“oh baby, you look so fucking good. you love getting dumbfucked don’t you, my sweetheart? there’s not a thought in that empty head of yours is there?”

her words mocking yet falling on deaf ears and very much so. there was nothing on your mind other than achieving orgasm. rhea fucked you so well that it made you legs weak, your mind grew hazy and rotten with all the filthy ways she could ruin you. rhea could sense your impending orgasm, opting to hook a leg over your shoulder, pressing down deep into you, feeling the tip of the toy hit your cervix with such delicious force.

“oh sweetie, you gonna cum? oh i know you do, just look at the way your pretty cunt throbs for me”

you felt a moan catch in your throat, your cunt so swollen and overstimulated, not just from the toy but from her tongue also. orgasm teetering in the edge of release

“mommy please! oh fuck yes- make me cum, mommy!” 

rhea increased the speed of her thrusts, her own cunt soppy and dripping with sweetness. 

“make a mess for mommy, baby. show me how a good girl cums”

you released, sweetness gushing like nectar from between your thighs. it’s a pity rhea couldn’t taste you for a second time, but watching you cum all over her makeshift cock was good enough for her. rhea pulled out of you, spurts of your warmth still squirting from you each time your cunt clenched and pulsed. she left you breathless, unable to speak for a moment. 

“such a good girl” rhea praised, quickly removing the harness and the toy, throwing it to the floor beside the bed, before resting herself atop the headboard.

“now…” she began, tugging you lightly by the hair, leaving your head positioned between her thick, inked thighs.

“come give mommy a kiss”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[kiss-theggoat]

Would you write for Thomas Hewitt ?

A/N: I just recently watched this version and hubba hubba I’m in love with Mr Thomas Hewitt. I’ve only seen this one twice, so if some characters are out of character, I apologize! I hope you like it as much as I do bc this boy deserves better!

Bluebonnets

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You and your friends stopped for gas in a rinky dink little town in Texas, but the Hewitt family thinks that you’d be perfect for their little Tommy.

TW: Violence and Gore, Death, Hoyt is a pervert, Cannibalism, Sort of Stockholm Syndrome, Ends with fluff

The sun beat down on your face as you laid your head back against the rough leather seat, deeply regretting the fact that you agreed to drive in a convertible through Texas in the middle of August. Your sweat broke through the barrier of sunblock, leaving your skin sticky and shiny, the humid wind doing absolutely nothing to cool you off.

“We’re almost outta gas!” Johnny yelled, his hand on Sue’s thigh. She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. “I thought we gassed up in Austin!”

He shrugged. “We did. Getting bad gas mileage I guess!”

She groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. You were relieved to finally get out of the car and into some sort of building, hopefully with air conditioning. You sat in the back, squished against the side of the car by Tyler and Ginny making out, taking up almost the entire seat. You felt a little bit fifth-wheel-y, but you knew your friends would’ve given you so much shit if you refused to come.

Johnny pointed to a sign up ahead, faded and cracked from the relentless Texas sun. In light pink, what used to be red, the sign said, ‘GAS AND BARBECUE NEXT EXIT’. Johnny laughed, squeezing Sue’s thigh with a sweaty palm. “Barbecue, babe! Let’s go!”

Sue sighed. “Fine.” She turned to everyone in the back, and you saw that she was just as sweaty as you, tanned skin shining in the sunlight. “Everyone okay with stopping here.”

For some reason, this got on your nerves. You didn’t know if it was the fact that you’d been in the car for six hours or the fact that you were baking like a casserole in 100 degree weather. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone in the car was giving eachother fuck-me eyes, like a sick joke you weren’t apart if. And, on top of that, the last thing you wanted after being in 86 percent humidity was fucking barbecue. “Where the hell else are we going to stop? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Sue gave you a look before you were interrupted by Ginny. “Here’s fine, babe!” She smiled at Sue, her lips red and swollen from being absolutely ravished by her scrawny boyfriend. You crossed your arms and laid your head back down, trying your best to meditate your way out of this road trip.

You guess it worked because before you knew it, you were pulling into the run-down gas station, car switching off with an alarming squeal. You hopped out of the car, not bothering to talk to any of your friends, and went inside. Your stomach turned. Instead of the blissful air conditioning you were yearning for, you were smacked in the face by the putrid smell of rotting meat. Flies buzzed around your face, and you swore it was hotter in here than it was outside.

Looking around, there was a convenience store area, a case to your left with meat inside, and a little old lady sitting behind the counter. You took a deep, stabilizing breath. You were pissed and over this trip, but you knew better than to take it out on some poor unsuspecting stranger. You put on a smile and walked towards her, pulling your shorts further down your thighs. The old lady looked up at you and then back down at her book, before doing a double take. She took her glasses off, then gave you a small smile.

“Hi sweetie. What can I do for you?”

She’s nice, you thought. You liked when old ladies called you cute names. You smiled brighter at her, feeling relieved that one person was making you feel actual joy on this trip. “Hi, ma’am. Is there a bathroom here.”

“Yes, hun, it’s outside, around the side of the station.” She said, handing you a key ring. You tried not to let your face scrunch in disgust, but you were pretty sure there was a real rabbit's foot on this thing. You grabbed the key from her, avoiding the furry foot, and told her, “Thank you so much. My friends are also going to use the restroom so I’ll have this back in a few minutes.” She nodded at you, going back to her book.

You pushed the door open, actually relieved to be outside. You welcomed the smell of dust that Texas had gotten you used to instead of the rancid steaks. As you walked towards the bathroom, Sue grabbed your arm, making you jump. “What the hell is up with you?” She asked, staring at you accusingly.

You sighed, feeling better after your pleasant exchange with the old woman. “I’m sorry for being snippy. I’m just tired and hot and…done being in the car.” You said quietly, shaking her off to go towards the dilapidated bathroom.

“You can have the front seat from now on, you can actually feel the AC a little bit sometimes.” She said, following you.

You put the key in the door and twisted it. “It’s okay. The sun goes down in like…an hour and a half? It should cool down.” The moment the door swung open, you were hit with that same raunchy smell. You put a hand over your nose and grimaced, “It smells like this inside too…” you sighed, slowly walking into the single stall bathroom.

You couldn’t have pissed faster. You quickly washed up and nearly sprinted from the bathroom back towards the car, holding your face the entire time. The cheap soap from your hands also smelled bad, but compared to the smell of the bathroom, it was like the world's most expensive perfume. “Uhm…does anyone else need to use the bathroom? I have to return the key.”

Everyone shook their heads, but Johnny spoke up. “We’ll go with you. We’ll get food and pay for the gas.”

You nodded and opened the door to the station for everyone, watching in amusement as all of their faces twisted with disgust just as yours did when you first smelled it. The old lady looked up again, and instead of her smile she wore a sneer as she watched Johnny walk up to her. “We need twenty dollars on pump one.” He said, not looking at her and pulling out his wallet.

“We don’t have gas.” She said quickly and coldly, holding her book up in front of him. “Haven’t for a couple weeks.”

Johnny scoffed in disbelief, tossing his hands down on the counter. “So you’re the only gas station for 100 miles and you don’t have any gas?”

She shrugged, not answering.

“Well, when are you gonna have gas?” Ginny asked, also putting her hands on the counter.

“Could be a week. Maybe more.”

Johnny looked down in the case, noticing the green meat and flies swarming. “So no gas and I’m guessing…” he tapped aggressively on the glass. “No barbecue?”

The old lady took her glasses off again, irritated. “We got food.” She pointed behind your group to shelves of food that looked like it was from the 1940’s.

Johnny laughed, head rolling back. “You’ve got to be kidding me, lady! You have to take that sign down if everything is a fucking lie!”

You stepped forward, putting an arm in front of Johnny’s torso and pushing him away from the counter slightly. “I’m sorry ma’am. We’ll find somewhere else to go, thank you for your help and letting us use the restroom.” You said, sliding the key back over the counter. You felt bad for her. Obviously this town wasn’t a money pit, and maybe she did have a popular place before, but it looks like everything’s gone out of business. Maybe she’s barely surviving, the last thing she needs is five twenty-something year olds harassing her for things she can’t control.

She gave you her attention, unlike your friends. She smiled at you, grabbing the key back from you. “Thank you, young lady. You’re very polite. Maybe you could teach your friends there some manners.” She said, pointing to Johnny and Ginny with her glasses. Johnny scoffed and started to yell something, but you quickly yanked on his shoulder to usher them out of the building. You nodded at the woman with a smile before leaving. You bumped into Johnny’s back hard, wondering why the hell he stopped in front of you like that.

You moved out from behind him to see a cop. “Great, the old hag called the cops!” Johnny groaned, only shutting up when Sue rubbed his bicep. You never liked Johnny.

“We ain’t get no call folks. Came here for some refreshments.” The cop said, pointing to his badge. “And I ain’t just any cop. Sheriff. Sheriff Hoyt.”

Johnny sighed, nodding. “Okay, Sheriff. Where’s the nearest gas station? This dump doesn’t have gas.”

“It ain’t nice to disrespect someone’s business, boy.” The sheriff scowled, spitting black tobacco onto the concrete. You could feel your heart rate rising, you knew that Johnny was going to get you in trouble somehow. You looked around, finally seeing the sheriff’s cruiser parked behind the convertible. As you peered inside, you noticed a man sitting in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see him too well, but he was large, blocking up pretty much the entire window.

“It’s hardly a business. Pretty sure there’s botflies inside, could kill someone.” Johnny started to walk away, but the Sheriff stepped in front of him to block his path. “What’s your fucking problem?”

The sheriff stared into Johnny’s eyes, scowling. You could sense the tension, and decided you’d be the peace keeper of the day. “Sir…sir, we’re sorry. We’re just almost out of gas and we’ve been traveling for a long time.” You said, stepping towards the Sheriff.

His eyes raked over you, making you feel sort of icky. You wished you were wearing a winter coat, despite the heat. He spit again, a gross squelch breaking the silence. “Finally someone with some manners.”

Johnny laughed, “What the fuck is up with old people and manners?! Jesus Christ, we just need gas!” He yelled, shoving the Sheriff’s shoulder. You gasped, grabbing Johnny’s arm but in the blink of an eye, a revolver was being pointed at Johnny’s face. Everyone froze, staring at the firearm.

“Now are you gonna show some respect, boy? I’m the Sheriff of this town and I’m not gonna tolerate a group of hoodlums messin’ things up.” He said, voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. We’re leaving. Let’s go.” You moved towards the car, but the Sheriff stopped you.

“Y’all think you can just stroll into a town, cause trouble, and go?” He laughed, cocking the gun with a haunting click. “Tommy!” He yelled, turning his head towards the car. The door slowly opened and you watched as a mammoth of a man stepped out, dress shirt and apron giving him an even larger silhouette. He wore a mask with messy brown hair, broad shoulders slouched. Your heart skipped a beat. Wrong situation to think this, but the man was quite handsome. You’d always liked bigger men.

“Please sir…we don’t want any trouble. We’d just like to be on our way, we’ll leave and never come back.” You pleaded, hands out in front of you. Gravel crunched beneath the huge man’s feet as he walked towards your group. The sheriff turned to him. “Whadya think Tommy?” He asked with a cruel cackle.

The ringing of a bell made you turn back towards the station, and you saw the old lady standing there. She held her reading glasses, and pointed at you with them. Your heart dropped. What did this mean? You turned back to the sheriff, and he looked just as confused as you did. She scoffed at his confusion. She wanted to tell him something, but didn’t want you and your friends to hear it. She waddled over slowly, but Johnny had other ideas. He spun quickly, hitting the sheriff’s arm, but unfortunately, it didn’t cause him to drop the gun. Tyler started to run, Ginny tried to help Johnny, and Sue grabbed your arm. “Let’s go! We need to run!” She yelled.

Your ears rang at the close range of the gunshot, you fell to your knees, scraping them, and covered your ears with your hands. You heard a scream, immediately recognizing it as Sue. You turned around to see Johnny, laying on the dirt with blood pooling around him, a perfect bullet wound in the center of his forehead. You felt nauseous, but you couldn’t move. Looking up, you saw the smoking revolver gripped tight in the sheriff's hand, now focused on Sue. She was hunched over Johnny’a body, sobbing and screaming, the tears making trails of clean skin as they wiped away the thin layer of dust.

Somewhere to your right, another scream. Ginny. You saw the large man, who the Sheriff called Tommy, holding her up in the air on his shoulder. She banged against his chest with knees and hit his back with her fists, thrashing and screaming. On his other arm, he held the limp body of Tyler, blood dripping from his head and beading in the dust, tucked beneath his armpit. This man carried two grown adults effortlessly, his strength scared the hell out of you. You didn’t even see if he had a weapon, but he managed to take them both down.

You sat in terror. You wanted to run, but with a revolver focused on your head, what were your options. The old lady appeared on your left, hand touching the Sheriff’s shoulder. She leaned in to whisper, but you heard her.

“Don’t touch her. Keep her for Tommy.”

Keep her for Tommy? What the fuck did that mean? You stared up at them in fear and watched as he groaned, pointing the gun at Sue instead. She didn’t even look phased, too focused on her boyfriend’s dead body. Tommy loaded the other two into the back of the car, and then made his way back towards you. Tears welled in your eyes as he approached, his shadow looming over you and finally blocking you from the sun. As he got closer, you saw the detail in his face and clothes. He had pretty eyes and his hair looked soft, but his bloody clothes and tight leather mask contrasted the softness of the rest of him.

He grabbed your arm in a surprisingly soft grip, the only thing disconcerting about his touch was the slickness from the blood that he left on your skin. He pulled you towards the car, and it was obvious he wanted you to follow. The old woman put a hand on his shoulder and affectionately patted his chest, he leaned down to her level. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and told him, “She’s perfect for you, Tommy.”

You finally realized what was going on. They were setting you up with him, like you and your friends were on some sort of sick dating game. You stumbled as you followed him to the cop car, his head was down and his shoulders were slumped as he opened the front passenger side and moved aside. You looked up at him. He wanted you to get in, but he didn’t put you in the back like you thought he would, and for that, you were grateful. The last thing you wanted to do was sit beside the bleeding, passed out bodies of two of your friends.

You took a seat in the scalding car, body swaying with the force that he shut the door. He stood in front of the door as if keeping watch, like a prison guard. You stared in horror as the sheriff finally had enough with Sue, giving her the same fate as Johnny. She laid on his chest, her blood mixing with his as the sheriff walked away from their bodies. You were grateful you were far away from them, both because you didn’t want to see your best friend die, and your ears were still ringing from the first gunshot.

The sheriff entered the car, flashing you a creepy smirk before you felt Tommy enter the backseat. You stared out the window, definitely in shock and confused. Just twenty minutes ago the worst of your problems was having to pee on a road trip and now you just watched all of your friends either die or be brutally attacked by someone who is supposed to protect the community. You had a feeling he wasn’t a real sheriff, given the nature of the recent events.

You laid your head against the door. You hadn’t noticed how tired you were, but you guessed experiencing something like that would be hard on your body. Feeling fairly confident that they wouldn’t kill you, you drifted off to sleep as he drove who knows where.

You only woke up to the sound of a door slamming and you realized that it was dark outside. You had no idea where you were or how long you’d been driving, but you felt disgusting. Cheeks stiff with tears, nose running, mouth dry and eyes burning. Your door opened and you were being yanked out by the sheriff, who was much rougher with you than Tommy was. You winced at how tight he was holding you as he dragged you towards a fairly large country style home.

The door was kicked open and you saw the same old woman from the station holding a pot of food. “Finally, Charlie. Tommy had to help cook.” She scoffed, setting the pot down at the large dining room table, where an old man already sat.

“Dammit, Luda Mae, I told you! It’s Sheriff Hoyt! You hear me!” He yelled, hitting the wall with his free hand, making you jump. You were putting the pieces together. There was Hoyt, or Charlie apparently, Tommy, Luda Mae, and then this old man. They lived together, probably related.

You looked around, saw the table full of food, dusty knickknacks, bones hanging from the ceiling. It all felt like a sick mix of home and hell. The rugs and the quilts on the plush couches looked knit, and the lamps give the room a comforting glow. If you weren’t here under these circumstances, you might find this house cozy.

Hoyt forced you to the table, plopping you down across from the old man already seated. He tied your wrists to the chair with leather straps that were bolted in. Obviously, this wasn’t their first time offense. Your fingertips began to cool with how tight the leather was cinched, and you whimpered at the pain. Luda Mae sat next to the old man, smiling at you.

“Oh dear. The moment I saw you, I knew that my Thomas would like you. We’re so happy to have you here.” She sounded genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help feeling sorry for this family. You heard Hoyt bang in something and yell Tommy’s name, then a loud sliding sound. Thomas walked into the dining room and took a seat next to you, across from Luda Mae. Hoyt took the head of the table, standing over the pot with a giant ladle.

“Well thanks to this pretty lady…” he said, winking at you, warning a scoff from Luda Mae, “and all of her friends… we’ll have dinner for the next couple a’ weeks!” He grabbed Thomas’ bowl and dropped in a ladle full, then the same with Luda Mae’s. As he served you, you noticed large chunks of game-y looking meat inside of your stew. Surely he didn’t mean….

You stared in horror at your food, lips sealed shut in fear that you may vomit. Your mouth watered with the insatiable urge to throw up everywhere, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You watched as everyone dug in, eating with a fervor that said they’d been starving for a month. They moaned in joy at the flavor of the food, occasionally complimenting Thomas or Luda Mae for the cooking. Only you and Thomas weren’t eating. He because he didn’t want to remove his mask in front of you, and you because you weren’t really on board with cannibalism.

“Don’t be ungrateful, boy. Eat your damn dinner!” Hoyt yelled, a cooked carrot flying from his mouth onto the table as he slammed his hand down. Thomas jumped and put his hands near his face, like he was expecting to be hit. Your heart ached for him. It was obvious he didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t evil like the rest of them, he was forced to do this. You watched him slowly unbuckle the leather strap of his mask and slide it off, revealing a scarred face, exposed nose cartilage and teeth, mangled jaw bones. You felt terrible watching him keep his face down, hair covering it. He was ashamed.

He picked up a spoon, but still didn’t eat. He just stirred the stew. Obviously you wouldn’t know this, but he didn’t want to eat in front of you, because eating was a little difficult for him. He was more prone to spilling food on himself or getting messy and spilling down his chin. Not exactly the way to impress your new date.

You swore that Hoyt was turning red with rage. “Dammit boy! Your momma made this dinner and you’re just gonna stare at it?!” He growled, slapping Thomas upside the head. Anger filled your chest as you watched Thomas cover his head, eyes clenched shut. What made you even angrier is that Luda Mae and the old man just sat there, eating like nothing was wrong.

“Don’t hit him.” You said. Your throat was hoarse, you haven't talked in a while.

“Fuck you say to me, girl?”

You looked Hoyt in the eyes. “I said…don’t hit him.”

He sneered and leaned over the table, knocking the spoon from his empty bowl. “Oh I see…Tommy needs his little girlfriend to defend him, huh? Listen here, you little bitch-“

“Hoyt, be kind to our guest.” Luda Mae said, eating the last of her potato. She looked over at you, and then at Thomas. She was happy that you stood up for him.

Hoyt laughed at her, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” He grumbled, throwing his bowl to the center of the table. “Neither of ya wanna eat dinner? Fine!” He walked over to Thomas and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, and with the other hand, he grabbed his mask. He slammed his mask hard against Thomas’s face, making him wince. “Ya can just go back to your little fuckin’ basement then.”

He walked over to you, roughly unstrapping your wrists. Blood flowed back into the white spots, and you knew it’d bruise. “And take your bitch with ya.” He growled, shoving you over towards Thomas. Thomas had just finished securing his mask, and he gently grabbed your sore wrist. You followed him while looking behind your back, staring spitefully at Hoyt, who shamelessly watched your ass as you walked away.

Thomas slid a huge wooden door out of the way and led you down a staircase. The basement smelled rancid, like stale metal and rotting meat. As you walked in, you knew why. Weapons hung from the ceiling, a workbench in the center of the room. Blood coated the entire floor, and some dropped steadily from the table, giving you the sound like a very messed up metronome. A bed in the corner called your name despite the stained mattress. It had no pillows, no sheets, no blankets. You looked at Thomas.

“You…sleep here?” You asked meekly and watched as he gave you a very tiny nod, looking at the bed. He led you over to it, and held your shoulders, sitting you down. He let you sit there for a second and then he walked away, going to sit in a chair on the other side of the room next to his work table. He wanted you to sleep in his bed, but he wasn’t going to?

Your chest swelled with the kindness of this poor man. A pure soul forced into the mud by his corrupt family. You stood up and took a step towards him. “I don’t want to take your bed. It’s yours.”

He shook his head and walked back to you, grabbing your shoulders again to sit you down. You gave in because the feeling of this stained, thin mattress was like heaven, despite the fact that you could feel the springs digging into your back as you laid down. You stared at him for a moment as he began to rummage through items on his shelf. Your eyes began to close, eyelids feeling like they had ten pound weights attached.

He turned around, holding something small and dainty in his large and veiny hands. He sat at your feet, a gentle hand placed on your ankle. You glanced down at him as he held out a dried Bluebonnet to you. You smiled softly and took it from him, feeling its soft stem and looking at its pretty periwinkle petals. “Thank you…” you mumbled sleepily.

You thought, just before you fell asleep, that there were two things in this basement that didn’t belong. Everything in this house was drenched in blood and fear and grime, this basement was disgusting and horrifying. But, in all of the terror, you had this beautiful Bluebell, a reminder of the open, sweet smelling fields of Texas, and even more pure, you had Thomas.

[lizzyk137]

The Technical Analyst and the Boy Genius: Spencer x Reader

Summary: You finally get your dream job working as a technical analyst for the BAU, but one team member isn't happy you're there. Warnings: Angst, talk of death, guns, shootings, stomach wounds

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Five years. It took you five years to make it where you are today. Five years of no sleep, constant anxiety and a need to get where you want to be.

You worked your butt off in school to get your many degrees, but your hidden passion was computer work. Getting into the many cracks that was hidden and searching for answers or for what was in the unknown. It was what made you so useful to the FBI.

Throughout your five years of working for the FBI, you had been with multiple units as a technical analyst, helping your coworkers save the day on different missions. It brought you more joy than you would have thought it did when you stepped into the FBI building all those years ago.

Within that time, you've joined your teams on and off the field helping, and you struggled with what you liked better, field work or office work. Either way, you were helping. So, when you got the offer to transfer to the FBI's BAU, though you were sad to leave your team, you jumped at the chance to work with the group that was your end goal. And that was because of one person.

Penelope.

You both had only met a handful of times, your schedules always opposite of each other and your work bringing you to different locations didn't help either. But she was your mentor and her word was gospel. It had started your first year at the FBI, you had hacked into her computers just for fun and since then you were best friends. And now you were finally getting to work right were you wanted to be.

"Oh my god, oh my god, it's you! It's really you!" Penn gasped out once she saw you make your way through the double doors of the BAU's bull pen. She squished you into a hug, disregarding the fact you had a huge box in your hand.

You laughed in her embrace and your free hand circled her back. "I know it feels like a dream!"

You stood there chatting for a second before a smooth masculine voice came from behind Penn. "I heard we were getting a new partner in crime, I didn't think she'd be this beautiful." He stopped besides Penelope before saying to her, "Not as beautiful as you, baby girl."

You smiled at the exchange between the two. You had done your research on the team, Penn suppling you with random lists she made of each member to help you get to know them better. "You must be Derek Morgan, it's a pleasure to meet you." You said, stretching out your one good hand to shake.

"You know me?" Derek chuckled, as he shook your hand.

"I've done my research." You winked at him before laughing.

"See, she'll fit right in." Penn said before grabbing your hand and introducing you to everyone.

--

Two weeks had flown by since you started working besides Penn. It was awkward at first getting to know the team and how each one worked, but you didn't mind. It was the awkward bits that made it fun. You had managed to nail down how everyone worked and what they expected, except for Spencer. He was upset at you randomly, bickering at the things you said or just wanting the news from Penelope. Rossi told you it was because he didn't like change, and not to take it personally. But as the days went by, it was starting to, not matter how hard you were telling yourself to power through.

It wasn't until a case that required you specifically was when he started acting differently.

It was a strange case, the UnSub would implant a virus into large computer server farms, where he would kill his victims by using flashing lights and noises through their computers to send them into a deathly seizure. The only way to rid this virus was to remove the discs that were implanted in person while also blocking it remotely from getting to people. It was a two-person job, and Hotch decided it was best to fly you out with them since you were cleared for field work.

Spencer wasn't thrilled and he made it known, Hotch sending him looks to shut him up when he started. You didn't mind when he wasn't besides you, you could ignore it like you used to when you had similar thoughts from people on your old teams, but when Hotch paired you two together with Derek that's when it started to annoy you and it just got worse as the day went on.

"Do you ever shut up?" You asked him that night at the police station. Everyone was trying to figure where the UnSub would strike next, but all Spencer could do was dismiss everything you'd say.

The room grew silent when you finally snapped. Derek and Emily biting their lips to stop from smiling because you finally stuck up for yourself.

"I don't care if you're a genius. You don't know computers like I do. If I were the UnSub, I would strike here. It's a huge server farm with plenty of rooms full of servers to sneak this virus in. He's gone with all smaller farms before and has been building his way up. He's cocky, and he isn't going to stop until he hits the biggest farms." Spencer stood quiet, watching you as you took a deep breath in before you tilted your head at him. "Oh, and did I forget to mention, I have several degrees in Psychology and Criminal Justice along with degrees in almost every field on computer work?"

The room broke out into chuckles, Spencer remaining silent. Rossi gave you a pat on the back with a small wink. "I think you finally broke him. Good job."

The next day, you were once again paired up with Spencer, this time alone. He was quiet as you drove and didn't say a word until you were at the farm when he grabbed you and whispered to be quiet.

You looked at him shocked, he wasn't one for physical touch, especially to new people and you knew it wouldn't happen with you with how much he disliked you. He pointed at the hallway that upon inspection had droplets of blood going down it. Spencer drew his weapon and stepped in front of you as you both headed down the hall to find a security guard leaning against the wall bleeding from several gunshot wounds.

Spencer called for an ambulance and back up before saying, "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, what happened?""

The man struggled to sit up so he could talk. You helped him up, pressing your sweater against his wounds. "A man came in, shot me and headed to our main server room. I tried to lock down the doors before he could get in, but he shot the control booth and shot me again."

You looked up at the control panel in the small room next to you. Spencer replaced your hands on the man's stomach and nodded for you to take a look. The panel was beyond fixing, the only way into the server room was to unlock it by hacking into the lock on the door. You looked back Spencer who was holding the man up as he reassured him help was on the way.

"The only way to open the room is accessing the panel box on the door. We're going to have get to the main room." Spencer nodded and helped looked at the security guard next to him.

"Tell me how to do it, you stay here with him."

"It's not something you can just figure out, it's something I need to do."

"No, Y/L/N. It's too dangerous, you're just an office worker."

You sent him an annoyed look. "I'm more qualified than you think I am."

"You may think you're qualified, but they didn't give you a gun. So, tell me what to do."

You looked at him and sighed. There was no way he could unlock the access panel in time to stop the UnSub and arguing back and forth was stalling you both. You could either give him the information and hope he figures it out or break away from Spencer and do it yourself.

In no way did you want credit or glory in taking down an UnSub, you just wanted to stop him. You didn't want him to take more lives than he already had, and this server farm was huge, and he could easily kill hundreds if he wanted too. Wasting time was ideal in this situation. You could have your badge taken away or be removed from the team, but you knew you had to try. So, you did the opposite of what the boy genius was telling you to do, and that was to sprint out of the control room, Spencer screaming for you to come back as you headed to the main server room.

You looked at the control panel on the side wall, pulling the frame off of it before plugging in your phone to it and taking over the controls. Your brain felt like it was on fire with how hard you were trying to find the specific number pattern to help your phone out. Once you figured it out you could easily hack into main control system and open the door. But you still had the UnSub to think about. He already shot up the security guard which he hasn't done before. So, you had to figure he was by the door, gun ready for you to come in. You were a few seconds away to opening up the door when an angry Spencer came running your way, his face red with anger.

You didn't have time to think, you just did. You launched yourself at Spencer, knocking him over as the door opened and bullets flew towards you.

Spencer was stunned with your body draped over his, your sweet perfume mixing with his woodsy scent. He watched you quickly get up, somehow dodging the few bullets that was shot at you before knocking the gun out of the UnSub's hand with a roundhouse kick before swiftly taking him the ground, his face smooshed into the ground. You looked like an angel and his brain couldn't comprehend what just happened.

The sound of footsteps heading his way and JJ leaning down to check on him brought Spencer back to reality. You single handedly stopped an UnSub with a roundhouse kick while saving his life a few seconds earlier.

Hotch quickly took over from you and handcuffed the UnSub. "Go, I got this."

You nodded and looked at the hundreds of servers in front of you, analyzing which ones could contain the virus. The team watched you as you figured which ones had it and how many there were. The rest of the day was spent disarming the virus, Spencer following you around as you went holding onto whatever you gave him.

--

"Hey, Y/N." Spencer's voice came from behind you as you made your way to the plane's stairs.

You turned aorund to find him staring at you, nervousness written all over his face. "Yeah?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, I just wanted to thank you for back at the server farm. You knew what needed to be done, and you were able to stop the virus before it could take another life. So good job back there."

A smile crept onto your face at how nervous he was to thank you. "No problem. I have anti-terrorist training from one of the old units I worked with. We profile and anticipate their next moves so it was pretty similar."

"You were a field agent?" He asked, as he made his way up the stairs behind you.

"Yeah, I worked on and off the field in my old units. It helps me from going stir crazy." You laughed and took a seat on the couch, Spencer joining you.

"Wow, and the karate?"

"Oh, I was a gymnast and did karate growing up."

The rest of the plane ride you spent talking with Spencer about your old units and your interests.

Emily looked over at Rossi and Derek before nodding over to the two of you. "Looks like they're going to be inseparable soon."

"Looks like you and Penelope have some competition." Rossi chuckled.

"Baby girl and I are going to have to step it up."

JJ tuned around in her seat to join the conversation. "Looks like Spence is already pretty comfortable."

The team looked over to see your head on Spencer's shoulder and his on rest on the top of yours, sleep finally catching up to you two.

Hotch sighed at the two of you. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to watch them too."

[tragedy-of-commons]

no pickles

stellaron hunters & gn!reader | wc: ~750

In which they get your order wrong. Kafka, dear friend that she is, decides to make it known.

tags/warnings: crack, reader is not described, vague canon-typical violence, comedy, found family, everything is platonic

notes: oops updated formatting

When you first joined the Stellaron Hunters upon Elio’s suggestion (death threat), you never would have imagined the scene unfolding in front of you now.

Silver Wolf is double-dipping a greasy french fry into a dollop of ketchup. Kafka is dabbing her mouth with a napkin after her only sip of whatever soda she decided to humor, and Blade is standing guard by your table like some kind of intimidating fast-food sentry.

You, squished between all of them, lament your existence. Sam got to stay behind to “keep watch”, but you know the truth. His robot suit would terrify any children within a fifty mile radius, and this CosmiBurger is teeming with them. 

“Silver Wolf,” you mutter.

“I’m not sharing,” she answers immediately.

“That’s not what I–! Ugh, whatever. I was gonna ask why you chose this place for lunch. Don’t you think it’s a little below our pay grade?” “We don’t get paid, newbie. Elio doesn’t cover us eating out, so we have to be cheap.”

“You’re just saying that because you blew our budget on Roblox Premium,” you deadpan.

Kafka interjects. “Look on the bright side, hm? The novelty here is something we rarely get to experience - and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bladie this happy.”

You spare a glance at your colleague. His scowl speaks for him.

Ignoring the fact that apparently Kafka’s got jokes now, you heave a sigh and poke at the lump of foil in front of you - a tangible warning of an impending stomach ache. The burger inside will have to serve as sustenance if you don’t want to wait twelve more system hours to eat.

Since Silver Wolf is now preoccupied with one of her handheld consoles, you don’t delay with your squabbling any longer. When you unwrap it and take your first bite, you’re blindsided by the overwhelming sour note of what can only be The Condiment That Shall Not Be Named. You can’t obscure the subsequent (ugly) scrunch of your brow and lips.

“Cyanide?” asks The Gamer That You Will Strangle One Day.

You glare at her and deposit your now even-more-unappetizing sandwich on the table. “You wish. They, uh, just got my order a bit wrong.” There’s a contemplative hum from your side that makes your heart skip a beat. Kafka stops playing with a strand of Blade’s hair to give you a coy smile. “Is that so?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you complain. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just not a fan of pickles.”

“You should ask for a replacement. After all, you did mention that in your order,” she drawls.

You bristle. “I doubt the employees get paid enough to put up with that.”

Blade speaks for the first time today in that gruff tone of his. “You draw the line there? You’ll slaughter on command but stop at inconveniencing the working class?”

“Everyone’s picking on me! Smear campaign!” you accuse, pointing at the brooding man.

You don’t expect a reply from him, which he honors by staring at your outstretched finger with what could be described as murderous intent. Kafka chuckles.

“It’s the principle of the thing, darling. I’ll handle it.”

“Wai–”

You don’t get another word out before she confidently rises from her seat and saunters over to the register, leaving you with your jaw on the floor. 

Silver Wolf is back to blowing bubblegum and spawn-killing some poor sap, but she makes the time to snicker at your plight. “That’s weak, newbie.”

All you can do is become an idle passenger in your own body as the scene unfolds in front of you. Maybe you try to stop her, but Blade’s lanky arm blocks your path. 

Sometimes you wish she’d just have a little more fear. Kafka converses with the cashier with her innate allure as you resign yourself to your fate of public humiliation.

The words audible over the ringing in your ears sound through the air in Kafka’s dulcet voice.  “They asked for no pickles.”

When she returns from the counter two minutes later with your presumably correct order, you’ve already decided that today has been the most harrowing twenty-four system hours of your long-life. Your stupor is cut short as the new pickleless burger is dropped into your hands like a gift from the Aeons.

“See?” Kafka teases. “It was no trouble at all.”

“..Thanks,” you cough into your hand awkwardly.

Lunch resumes its usual flow, but you’re still stewing in regret that boils down to a simple, bitter thought: You should’ve just ordered the chicken nuggets instead.

[leaawrites]

It's nice to have a friend

Percy Jackson x mortal fem!reader

Warnings: use of Y/n, mentions of almost dying, Percy's stupid at some points, friends to lovers

Summary: Percy can't let your hands freeze to death, only because he had to make you lose yours in the first place.

Masterlist

Looking out the window Y/n saw the frozen water falling down from above. Their heritage, the clouds, were a dark color of white, however the snow didn’t make the scene dark, it made it comfortable. It gave her a type of warm hug, a feeling she couldn’t forget. A feeling she wanted to save for the warm summer days, the same as she saves the sun for rainy days, and the rain for when the flowers bloom.

The bell rang, signaling that the lesson, and the school day therefor, was over. Y/n sighned, she did want to walk through the streets covered in snow, but her hands would freeze to death in the meantime, since she lost her gloves a year before.

With her hands in the pockets of her coat and her gaze on the floor, watching the snow squish under her boots, while new one fell onto them, she concentrated on the music in her ears. Only looking up when she heard child’s laughter. On the other side of the sidewalk, 4 kids were having a snowball fight, laughing together when one gets hit by the snow. Y/n stopped, admiring the fun in their eyes.

“You wanna join them?” A voice beside her asked.Turning around, she saw her best friend, Percy.

She would still concider him her best friend, even when he started to ditch her every summer for some summer camp he couldn't tell her too much about. She liked the boy, she really did. But something about his behavior when she asked him about it didn't sit right with her. It was like he didn’t want her to know. Before this, Percy would've told her everything. No matter what, she used to always be the first to know. Whether it be about a new school he was sent to or someone that bullied him on that day. It was always her. Now it were his new friends.

She tried to tell herself that it was because Percy wanted to leave some of his old life behind whenever he went to summer camp. Like it were two seperate worlds. But she knew that Grover, another friend of Percy's, was also there.

"I can’t," she answered. "I lost my gloves last year, after you had to take me to one of those." She pointed to the kids, smilling at the memory of back then.

“Oh, yeah.” He remembered, laughing at the memory as well.

Both of them were prepared to make the other go down and suffer in the snow that day a year ago. It was a simple and nice idea, until Percy decided he had to help a duck on the lake. At that time he hadn’t had snow gloves himself, so he borrowed Y/n’s.

Long story short, the duck ended up almost drowning, together with Percy, but could rescue itself, while the gloves were sliding from Percy’s hands and fell into the freezing water. He hadn’t bought her new one’s, he insisted on doing so, but she refused to accept them when he got them for her. She didn’t want him to spent his money on her, so she said she would buy new one’s herself. Since it was technically her own fault for giving them to him, when she knew they wouldn’t end up on her own pair of hands anyway. However, she forgot until it was too late.

"You almost died that day, how can you laugh about it?" She asked the pale boy. With the white snow surrounding him he fit right into it.

"t was a fun day, you can’t deny it, can you?" He asked her, searching for the comformation he always craved from her. He wanted her to agree with him in everything, so that he knew that they were still balancing on the same thin line like before all the sudden changes in his life.

Spending time with her always kind of made him feel more at ease. She was his home. She was who he was so used to, he could tell her everything. Besides about camp and his now second life. It was too dangerous. So, he keot it to himself. Rather have her angry than dead, right?

"It was a fun day," she agreed, stuffing her hands further into her pockets from the cold temperatures.

"Have mine," Percy said, holding his gloves into her direction, after seeing her shaking body.

"No, thanks,” she said, continuing walking home. "I’m not even that cold."

But the chattering of her teeth betrayed her and Percy looked at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Then have one at least," he tried to compromise, looking into her eyes with that certain look. Raising his eyebrows, Percy moved the glove more to her body, until she couldn’t refuse to take it anymore. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she put the black glove over her freezing hand. Feeling the warm of his hand from before, made an slight blush creep up on her face. Which she played off from the cold.

"What is with the other, genuis?" she asked. She didn’t want a second glove but a conversation.

He only took her hand into his, beginning to walk again, not looking at her once. Her face grew even hotter and her body was filling with warmth as their bare freezing skin touched and exchanged body heat. Both were burning from the desire of this being more than a friendly encounter.

[sun-kissy]

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

[itstheghostofmypast]

One More Hour

Idol San x (f)Reader

Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)

Warnings: None

A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs

With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.

She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.

It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.

"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.

"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."

"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."

"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.

"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.

"Tempt me to stay."

Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.

.

"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.

"Shower?"

"Yes please."

With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."

"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.

"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."

"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"

"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."

.

"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.

"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.

"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"

"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.

Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"

"You mean the toothpaste one?"

"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.

"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.

"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"

"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.

"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."

"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"

"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.

"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"

A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"

"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.

"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"

San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.

"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.

"Good choice. The film was shit."

Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”

San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”

His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”

“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”

.

With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.

“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.

“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.

“Is he a good boyfriend?”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Are you into dumb dudes?”

“Have your parents met him?”

“Are they scared of his face?”

It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.

“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.

He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”

“I uh-

“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”

She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”

“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”

Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”

[cuubism]

tagged by @the-apocrypha, @magnusbae, @valiantstarlights in last line tag game 🥰

from Complex Math elopement chapter. they just got engaged and now they're killing time before the registrar's office opens trying unsuccessfully to make pasta in the middle of the night

--

“You don’t have any champagne, do you?”

“Death has vodka in the kitchen,” Dream says. “She says she buys it for cooking, but the rate at which she makes penne alla vodka does not match the rate at which the vodka is depleted.”

“Look at you, deductive mathematician,” Hob says, grinning. “Well, vodka shots it is. Unless you wanted to use it for its intended purpose and cook something?”

“We have the ingredients,” Dream realizes.

“Good! I’m hungry. Come on.” Hob takes Dream’s hand and drags him out of bed. Dream is helpless to do anything but follow him; he doesn’t care what they do with their time, he just wants to be around Hob.

Half-dressed in mismatched clothes, they wind up in the kitchen. Dream’s efforts at quieting Hob’s mind have evidently been completing unsuccessful, because Hob immediately starts pulling ingredients out of everywhere and laying them out on the counter in an unorganized mess. How Hob even manages to function while cooking, Dream doesn’t know, but somehow the result is always tasty, which Dream can never manage.

“You’re in charge of sauce ‘cuz I know you won’t want to get the pasta dough on your hands,” Hob says, setting a pan on the stove and passing him tomato sauce, onion, garlic, and several other ingredients Dream doesn’t immediately clock as he gathers them in his arms. It’s possible Death had all these ingredients on hand because she intended to cook this exact meal later in the week… Dream will have to make it up to her.

“You intend to make pasta by hand?” Dream asks.

Hob is already laying out flour on the countertop. Dream gets briefly distracted watching his hands. “Why not? We’ve got ten hours.”

Dream supposes neither of them would be able to sleep tonight anyway. And he is getting hungry.

He watches Hob crack an egg into the center of the flour, and decides it was good indeed that Hob handed him the other ingredients instead. Even the enjoyment of being able to look at Hob’s forearms as he kneads the dough can’t override the visual squish of the egg. Dream decidedly looks away.

There is, in fact, a recipe, which Hob’s laid out between them on the counter, so Dream starts trying to follow its instructions in terms of cooking the sauce. He is not so good at cooking. He is used to determining his own rules and procedures, not following instructions. But he dutifully starts trying to dice an onion.

By the time he has the sauce simmering, Hob has the dough partly mixed, which is to say he’s covered in flour and has sticky egg mixture up to the elbow. Dream can’t help but laugh at the sight of him.

“Dream,” Hob whines. “Don’t just stand there and laugh. Help me!”

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

Hob yelps as a dribble of egg escapes the containment of the flour and starts sliding towards the counter edge. “Dream! Marriage is about teamwork!”

Dream pours out some more flour, creating a wall between the egg and the edge of the counter. Hob scoops it all in towards itself and starts kneading again. “How are you going to shape that into penne?” Dream asks.

“I don’t know. Don’t you know I have mainly bad ideas?”

Dream leans against Hob’s back, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch. “You do not have mainly bad ideas. This, however, might be one.”

“Thanks for the support.”

Dream kisses the side of Hob’s neck, smiling to himself. “I will fetch you a rolling pin.”

Eventually, as Dream works on finishing up the sauce, Hob gets the pasta dough rolled out into a flat rectangle. He studies it critically, hands on hips. “This might have been too much.”

“It will make approximately one hundred and thirty-two penne noodles,” Dream says.

“‘Approximately’ one hundred thirty-two? How do you figure that?”

“A penne noodle is a cylindrical concave hexagon. It's a simple matter of determining the area of the hexagon, then how many hexagons fit within the area of the pasta sheet,” Dream says. “Of course, you have to take into consideration the fact that the edges of the sheet would create partial shapes.”

Hob rubs his forehead. “This is what I get for dating a maths student.” He’s grinning underneath it all, though. “Alright, how many linguine can I make out of it? Because I’m thinking about the effort involved in penne and I’m rapidly losing interest.”

“Approximately eighty-seven linguine.”

“Okay, do you think you can eat forty-three and a half linguine?”

“I don’t know.”

Hob starts cutting the dough anyway. They don’t have a pasta roller, so he’s just winging it with a pizza cutter. Dream is feeling increasingly dubious about how all this will turn out, but Hob seems to be enjoying himself which is entertaining to watch.

“How’s the sauce coming along?” Hob asks.

“Fine.”

Hob sets aside the pasta temporarily to taste a spoonful of sauce.

He immediately chokes. “How much—” he coughs, spluttering, “Dream, how much vodka did you put in that?”

Dream frowns, looking at the recipe. “It says ‘4’.”

“Four what?”

“Cup.”

“Four CUPS? You put FOUR CUPS of vodka in it??”

It hadn’t struck Dream as strange, but then, he doesn’t usually drink vodka—or cook—so what would he know.

Hob takes the recipe, squints. “I think it’s supposed to be a quarter cup but the one is faded… Jesus Christ.” He takes another spoonful of sauce and holds it to Dream’s mouth. “Try.”

Dutifully, Dream tries the sauce. It is… Well. It’s vodka.

His face must twist, for Hob starts laughing. Dream starts laughing, too. It really is awful. It will pair well with the linguine.

“We’ll just have to let it simmer for a while, the alcohol will burn off eventually. Mostly. Don’t add the cream yet. And you know what, give me that.” He takes the bottle of vodka, almost empty now, pours a shot and tosses it back. He shakes himself. “Jesus Christ.”

“You should have known you’d be doing all the cooking from now on,” Dream tells him. “I don’t intend to learn.” He’s simply had to accept the fact that it’s not in his skill set. Particularly as he doesn’t tend to eat much in the first place.

“You intend to let me spoil you.” Hob steps in close, taking Dream’s hips in his hands—fortunately now merely lightly dusted with flour—and bringing him in close. He leans his face against Dream’s, their noses brushing. “And I will.”

--

Dream:

tagging @five-and-dimes, @dsudis, @hardly-an-escape

[battymommastuff]

The Loop [Happy Birthday]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Your husband and children decide to throw you a surprise birthday party. What could possibly go wrong?

TW : DARK THEMES AND DEATH

When it came to your birthday, it was more you treating your family. Instead of breakfast in bed with a bouquet of flowers, your family was greeted with a massive breakfast. Every time they told you that it was unnecessary; They were more than capable of making you breakfast. 

Every year you never asked for anything for your birthday. You had everything you could ever want. What more could you ever need? 

"Breakfast was amazing Y/N!" Barbara said as she sat in the kitchen with you while you washed the dishes. Another tradition on your birthday was to give Alfred a day off. Sometimes he wondered if it was his birthday instead of yours. 

"Thank you, darling." You said with a small laugh. While Barbara kept you company, down below in the batcave; The rest of your family were hard at work. 

"Father, I think this object can wait. Mother's balloons need to be blown up." Damian said as he held a purple balloon in his hands. He, Dick, and Jason were busy blowing up balloons for the surprise party tonight. Almost everyone in the city had been invited, and it was going to be the party of the decade. Everything had to be perfect for you. 

"There was a reason that Ra's wanted this, and I'm going to figure it out." Bruce said as he studied the mysterious object in his hands. Damian felt a slight twinge in his heart after hearing his grandfather's name. Being here so long, he sometimes forgot about that part of his life. He preferred this one so much more. 

"There's plenty of time to figure it out. I'm sure the mystery will still be here after tonight." Duke said as he took the object from Bruce. He examined it curiously then set it down on a nearby table. He was the only one that hadn't been there that night when it was taken from the League of Assassins 

Bruce let out a huff before he turned around and looked at each of the people he'd come to see as his children. 

"What do you need me to do first?"

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No one will ever know how she managed to do it, but Cass somehow got you to dress completely formal. She managed to do this while not giving away the surprise. She just acted like she wanted to play dress up with you as a way to bond. Next, she was dragging you down the hallway to 'take a picture'. When you got to the top of the staircase, you were met with a decorated room and a large crowd. 

"SURPRISE!"

Your hand flew to your chest as you looked at everyone in shock, then back to Cass who held a smirk on her face. "You sneaky little thing." You cooed while squishing her cheeks between your pointer finger and thumb. You were soon joined by your family in a massive group hug. Damian was in high protest to this idea, but refused to be the one furthest from you. He wiggled his way into your arms causing Bruce to be pushed out of the way. 

The party went on perfectly. Each one of your children danced with you to a different song, and your smile didn't leave your face. This was a night that you were going to remember for the rest of your life. It was another reminder of why you loved your family so much. Your final dance before you would take a little break was with Barbara. 

You held her hands as the both of you swayed as best you could with her in her wheel chair. At first she denied your request to dance for that very reason, but you wouldn't let her skip out on the fun. 

Barbara was the first to notice a little red dot climbing it's way up your body. Jason was the second, "Mom! Get down!" He yelled as Barbara put her hands on your hips to push you down. It was too late...

The sound of glass shattering halted the entire party as a bullet whizzed into the room and headed right for you. 

The blood...

The screaming...

The chaos....

Every Wayne family member stood frozen as they watched your body collapse to the ground. A bullet hole right between your eyes. Such accuracy. Your family couldn't shake the shock they felt. This couldn't be real, you couldn't be dead...

Barbara being the closest to you looked down at her dress which had a small blood splatter on it from the bullet entering your body. Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her skin paler than snow. She watched a pool of blood form around your head and the front of her wheelchair. Her ears ringing from the shock she felt having witnessed this so close. 

Dick was the first one to you after he found the will to move. He collapsed on the ground, not caring if blood was staining his suit pants. "Mom? Mom!" He cried out hoping that you were somehow still alive. The bullet went clean through, and he could see the blood pool through the hole. He clutched your body in his arms hoping that you would hold him in return. 

One by one your children crowded around your corpse. Each one of them saying their own prayer in hopes you would come back. Each one of them talking to your lifeless body hoping for a response. All they got was a lifeless stare. 

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Jim Gordon approached Dick slowly. He had Damian tucked under his arm as the young boy hid his face in his older brother's chest. He didn't want the news to see him crying, but everyone knew that he was. "We have to take her body in for an autopsy. Can you get him to let us take her?" He asked gently then gestured to Bruce. 

He was sitting in the drying blood pool with your body in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as his mind flashed back to the night he lost his parents. Him holding his mother's body in the same way that he was holding yours.  He blamed himself for his parent's death, and now he was blaming himself for yours. If he hadn't married you, then you would be alive. You would be safe. Of course he wouldn't be. He wouldn't have the love of his life, but your fate wouldn't have been this. 

"Bruce? They need to take her body." Stephanie said as she crouched down next to him. Her hand hesitantly rested on his shoulder. She watched as Bruce shook his head, and held you closer to his chest. He heard them unzipping the body bag, and he couldn't bring himself to let you go. Stephanie looked to Tim, who had been standing with Jason and Duke. Jason hadn't said a word since the police arrived. Duke was staying by his side to make sure he wasn't going to do something reckless. 

After some more convincing, Bruce finally allowed himself to be separated from you. He watched as they picked your body up, and put it into the bag. He felt the bile rise into his throat as the zipper slowly covered your body. 

The family gathered around each other to comfort one another. They found themselves in the same group hug, but instead of laughter and love, it was filled with sorrows and sobs. 

"S-Sir...this was left for you." Alfred said as he held a music box in his hand. His hands were shaking as he tried to hold himself together. Alfred knew someone had to be strong, and he wasn't going to let it be any of the people he called family. Bruce stepped forward to take the music box. He opened it, and a clock slowly lifted up and the hands started spinning. A sweet song filled the air, and the Batfamily felt their eyes start to droop.

"What's going on?" Tim asked as he leaned on Stephanie for support. Barbara was the first one to succumb to the powerful feeling. Her body slumped and then fell out of her chair. Dick tried to get to her, but he passed out as well. One by one each member fell to the ground seemingly in a deep sleep. Bruce was the last, he collapsed to the ground with the last thing he saw being the music box. 

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Bruce shot up with a gasp, and looked around frantically. He was in his bed, in his pajamas. He looked at the time, and it was six in the morning. He looked over to your side of the bed where he saw that it was messy. As if you had just gotten up. His eyes then moved to the bathroom door where he could see the light on. 

"Y/n?" He called out, and felt his heart drop into his stomach when he saw you step out with a sleepy smile on your face. Your smile turned to concern when you saw how your husband was looking at you.

"Bruce? What's wrong?" You asked, crossing the room to sit on the bed with him. Bruce wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how he watched you get shot in the head. How he held your lifeless body, but it didn't matter. It was a dream...all a dream.

"Nothing, just a bad dream." He said then kissed your shoulder. You gave him a weird look, but shook it off and kissed his cheek. 

"Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up after I make my famous birthday breakfast." You said and did a little dance. Before Bruce could react, the door slammed open, and you saw each of your children staring at you as if they'd seen a ghost. 

"What is wrong with you guys?" You then stood up with a slight pout, "Don't tell me you beat me to breakfast, I wanted to make it." You hoped that breakfast was the issue. Soon after you said that, you were nearly tackled by several people. You didn't know why your children were so happy to see you when they saw you a few hours ago. 

After peeling yourself away from your family, you left to make your birthday breakfast. You had no clue what had gotten into any of them, but it wasn't going to stop your birthday tradition.