#ow fanfiction

[altfire-archive]

Stop, je tisse des liens J'en perds le fil Bâtis ma vie, construis dans l'vide Les gens me disent, "L'espoir fait vivre." Comment m'faire vivre? Je suis un ZOMBIE ["Zombie" by GIMS]

drew my first overwatch fanart to accompany my first ow fic since 2018, Behind Enemy Lines! i've wanted to write this fic since like 2020 but didnt get around to it 'til now so uh. check it out lol

#watch your feet #overwatch #overwatch 2 #widowmaker #sigma overwatch #amelie lacroix #siebren de kuiper #amelie #i dont have an art tag #sigma #ow fanfiction #almost called the fic ''zombie'' but decided against it #pinned

[gutsby]

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch. 

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE #it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

great day for the reminder that fandoms are ruined by those who comment hateful things on fanfic

writers don’t owe you anything

writers make fics for free

there is a back button for a reason

#its absolutely devastating to hear that still after so much time people choose to write hateful comments on fanfictions #writers dont owe you one fucking thing #fics are free and tagged #and there is a back button for a reason #i love this fandom but its discouraging to hear that people have to leave because of hateful comments #fanfic #fanfiction #codywan

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny turned the knob on the door to the old janitor closet and stepped out only to pause.

This was not his high-school. Instead he was in a fancy office of some kind with a bunch of blueprints on a desk. Oh well, his portal powers were new and still developing so when he realized he would be late for school even if he flew he decided to use his new ability and aim for a closet he knew the cleaning crew only used sparingly.

At least he partially succeeded. It was a cleaning closet, just not the cleaning closet. He knew he should hurry and at least try to get to school on time but he also knew that it would be a waste of effort, besides those blueprints looked pretty interesting.

It only took a moment before Danny spotted something wrong with the first blueprint and out of habit of correcting his own parents blueprints so they don't explode and whatnot, he grabbed a red pen and began correcting mistakes and leaving little notes and helpful suggestions. He even drew up blueprints for new parts to make the energy consumption for one blueprint design functional.

"Wha-how did you get in here?!"

Danny jolted, dropping the pen and papers as a tall man stood in the doorway,probably Mr. Fox if the nameplate on the desk was anything to go by. Danny made a quick excuse about Narnia needing him before ducking back into the closet and flying out and away with his ghost powers...only to find out he's in another dimension and Amity park doesn't exist here and not one but two weird rich people want to adopt him.

He wonders if this red Hood guy would protect him from the horrors of adoption if he asked nicely.

#dpxdc #prompts #fanfiction prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #lucius fox #bruce wayne #they are fighting over adopting this kid while danny keeps quietly escaping in the background #tim nearly adopts danny out of a mixture of spite and humour. plus he owes danny for something #tim drake #batman #red robin #yum

[serious-goose]

me explaining to someone how spirk shaped media, modern fandom and fan culture

#it helps to also know i'm usually 🍃 at this point #fandom #ao3 #spirk #fanfiction #star trek #tos #literally we owe everything to those original 60s fangirlies writing zines

[idciminlove]

Mauga NSFW alphabet

Maugaloa Malosi x GN!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring, especially if he was rough with you. Some nights he will press a damp cloth between your legs, others he’ll run you a bath. He definitely cuddles after too. (He’s the big spoon obviously)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yours: I see him as an ass man but tbh I don’t think he has a big preference. Tits, ass, thighs, it doesn’t matter. As long as he has something to hold on to.

His: His chest..for obvious reasons lmao

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Comes thick heavy loads and he loves to come inside. Filling you up and fucking you full of his seed makes him feel closer to you, like you are bonded together. It’s like he’s marking you as his. So when he pulls out, he’ll make sure to push his cum back in, making you whimper in sensitivity.

Coming down your throat is a close second for sure, though. Loves seeing you all teary eyed, gazing up at him as you swallow whatever you can. Seeing you all submissive like that is such a pretty sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like he’d be an open book tbh- so none?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He definitely knows what he’s doing. With his “living every day like it’s his last” mentality and low impulse control, I feel like he would fuck often. Prob would mainly have one night stands, but he doesn’t care. He sees something he wants, he takes it.

Also “Let’s go break some hearts!” Def has a double meaning to it and that’s all the proof I need

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You on top (aka Cowgirl)- It’s much easier with you on top, especially considering how fucking big this man is, but that doesn’t mean you have control. Not at all. He’ll have his hands on your hips, moving you at whatever pace he wants, bouncing you on him. He also appreciates the view of you up close, right in his lap.

Full Nelson- He loves manhandling..and if that includes folding you like a lawnchair then so be it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In his own way, yeah. He’d probably make jokes that only he finds funny in his sadistic mind, like seeing you struggle from how good and overwhelmed he’s making you feel.

Maybe if you’re nervous he’ll make a joke or two, just to get you to relax.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Somewhat groomed..he rlly only does trims when it gets too long, but there’s always a patch of black hair down there lol

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Def depends on your relationship with him. If it’s a one night stand, then little to none. Maybe a kiss here or there, but it’s more heated than intimate, all tongue and teeth.

It’s not until you’ve been dating him for a while, and you get his walls to come down and get him to trust and love you that he gets really intimate. He slows down a bit more, looks you in the eyes..not just to see your expression but to see you…all of you. And he kisses and holds onto you like he never wants to let go. Like if he does, you’ll slip through his fingers and disappear. Will whisper affections into your ear and against your lips and neck with every slow roll of his hips.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Again, it depends on your relationship with him. If you’re dating, maybe once in a while, like if he’s away on a long mission. He’ll probably either do it while calling you so he can hear your voice, or he’ll send a video, calling you a tease and telling you how much he misses you. And if he can’t get through to you then, he’ll do it the old fashioned way..but he won’t be happy about it lmfao

If you’re not in a relationship with him…but he’s planning on getting you or trying to get in your pants, much more often. Will definitely fantasize about you often and all the nasty things he wants to do you. And if you don’t pay him attention/play hard to get or whatever, he’ll definitely want you much more. After all, he loves the chase.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size Kink- Loves that you’re smaller than him, seeing the size difference in your hands and bodies always gets him going, especially when you struggle to take him, no matter how much he’s stretched you out before.

Praise/Degradation- He does both- but his degrading isn’t all insults and stuff, more like talking to you in that condescending tone and teasing you- and for praise he’ll tell you how good you are for him and how pretty you are…whatever gets more of a reaction from you.

Overstimulation/Dumbification- Loves when you’re all fucked out and dumb on his cock, crying and writhing, hardly any thoughts left in your head except for how good he’s making you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Basically anywhere, the man does not give a fuck. He will fuck you anytime anywhere: at your place, at his, in a cabana at the beach (it’s not his cabana), and even in one of the storage closets on Talon’s base.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Lots of stuff..it could be the smallest thing, like if you look at him a certain way, or accidentally brush against him, but he loves to piss you off. He thinks you’re sexy when you’re angry, and he sometimes he gets you mad on purpose because he enjoys seeing you like that, and he can fuck the attitude right out of you

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While Mauga is a strong willed and stubborn person, he definitely wouldn’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. The moment you tell him to stop or say no, he’ll stop. He respects you and your boundaries.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a giver for sure. It doesn’t matter what size you are, big, small or in between, he will have you sit on his face..and put ALL of your weight on him lmfao. He’s nasty and messy, but he’s amazing at giving head. It always leaves your legs shaky, especially since he probably won’t let you go until you’ve come on his face at least twice.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Def on the faster/rougher side but there might be some nights when he’s slow and passionate, if he’s feeling really romantic, or if you ask him nicely.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind them, even though he prefers to draw things out. But if it’s an opportunity to get physical with you, he’ll go for it. (He def does them when he’s about to leave for a mission, fucking you five minutes before he has to get to the hangar)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mauga loves adrenaline and risky stuff, so absolutely. Will do whatever you want and/or are up for.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has lots of stamina, especially after his heart transplants. He will either go until you can��t take anymore or until he’s satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably has a few, which are mainly for you. He uses them occasionally, but mostly prefers skin to skin contact.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. Will edge you for hours before he finally gives you release. He’ll also taunt and mock you in the midst of it.

“Awww is it too much for my poor baby? Too bad.”

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you? I can see you cryin for it. Be good and I’ll give it to you…eventually.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a pretty loud guy, not too loud, but loud enough to piss off your neighbors. Mainly growls, grunts, and groans. No whimpers..sorry :(

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter, especially with those sharp ass teeth of his. He loves to cover you with hickeys and bites, from your throat to the crook of your shoulder. He’ll complain whenever you try to cover them up, and if the marks start to fade, he’ll just leave more. Everyone has to know who you belong to, after all.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Okay, bear with me y’all…but Mauga is a huge ass guy, so my guess is 8.5 inches, more girthy than long, but not too thick. He has a pretty cock for sure, with a slight curve a veins or two running up it, and a dark brown tip.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. It’s always been somewhat high but after his surgery and his whole mental shift to living on the edge, he decides that he does whatever he wants when he’s feeling it (dont get me wrong he is very intelligent and calculated, but sometimes he just destroys shit when he wants to, and the same can be said about sex lmao)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a little while. He always has to watch you fall asleep first, making sure you’re safe and comfortable in his arms. He strokes your hair, rubs soothing circles into your back, before he eventually falls asleep himself.

#babygirlification #maugaloa malosi #mauga ho'okano #mauga x reader #ow mauga #overwatch mauga #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #mauga #Mauga fanfic #Mauga smut #overwatch smut

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

do you have any zukka fanfic recs?

Im going to separate these by genre bc there’s a LOT :)

Angst:

Will we last the night by CSHfic and VSfic

In the soft light by CSHfic and VSfic

Plum blossom by GallifreyanFairytale

Do you take this jerk to be (your one and only) by @jatersade

Breakable heaven by @sokkalore

Unconditionally and irrevocably by @sokkalore

Fluff:

Half light by CSHfic and VSfic

Cinnamon by overflow

All the little things by CSHfic and VSfic

Make me feel by star_fruit (peach_tart)

The usual reasons by Wildgoosery (this one has some spice at the end so beware)

Separate section for @bisexuallsokka / @lesmiserablol ‘s fics cuz they deserve a national prize

Now that I see you

Don’t blame me (love made me crazy)

Hey, isn’t this easy?

All I’ve ever known

Have fun with this selection :)

#zukka #zuko x sokka #fanfiction #fic recs #zukka fic recs #this was so personal like I’m exposing my fanfiction taste uhhhh #as you can see I have a perpetual fear of long fics™️ #but I’ve read like #1 #and it was amazing so #btw huge huge credit to all the authors u guys are amazing and ilysm #also Haley and Jo? #i owe u two everythinf #ur fics keep me breathing

[artemis-pendragon]

Yeah just talked to my psychiatrist. Yep she says Good Omens fics will fix me. Yes she did say I should ask the gay people in my phone for recs

#if youve got any good omens fic recs especially canon-verse ones of any rating send em over pls ill owe u my life in these trying times 😤🫡 #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens fanfiction #ao3

[ya-zz]

Can I request some headcanons with Cassidy, Hanzo and Reaper? Of them holding their newborn baby for the first time? The baby fever is going crazy feral for me rn

I thought I would've gotten to this sooner, but hello, it is finally here!

This was such a cute concept and I'm really glad I got to do this and to finish it! Thank you for the patience ♥

CASSIDY

He panicked when you mentioned you were going into labour, words fumbling out his mouth in incoherent sentences that made you question whether or not he was okay.

He was there with you the entire time you were giving birth, holding your hand, moving the stuck hair from your face, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

He never once let go of you, wanting nothing more than to soothe you throughout the entire process. 

When the moment arrived, a screaming and crying baby in the nurses hands, Cassidy immediately felt the relief run through him. 

“I am proud of you, honey.” 

“You’re okay. Everything is fine.” 

When the nurses eventually handed the small infant over to you, he witnessed your features getting soft, tears pricking your eyes once more. They weren’t painful tears, but rather tears of love. 

The baby continued to cry for a minute or two longer as the conversation around the room continued.

Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed, hand still holding yours, watching you as you admired the soft bundle in your arms

When you turned to him with a smile on your face and asked if he wanted to hold his child, his heart almost stopped. 

He had felt overwhelmed before, but this time it felt different. 

His child was in his arms, bundled up in a soft blanket.

The cries had stopped, soft noises being made and when their eyes opened, looking at the cowboy, Cassidy felt the entire room spin. 

Finally, another reason to fall in love all over again.

HANZO

Hanzo was careful throughout every stage of the pregnancy. He’d listen to you, and get you everything and anything had wanted and needed. 

The moment Hanzo saw you grimace in pain, he knew exactly what was coming.

He was quick on his feet to get you over to medbay, hand never leaving yours as he helped you settle onto the bed.

The entire time he would whisper to you, sweet little words and praises to flood your mind and to take it off of the pain you were experiencing. 

“Stay calm, sweetheart.”

“My love… You are doing amazingly.”

He would keep his fingers laced with yours all throughout the birth of your child. 

The moment that new life was brought into the world, your hand squeezed your partners hand tightly, the relief flooding through your body.

His heart fluttered as the nurses brought the newborn over to you and him. 

Every emotion was heightened when he saw you hold the small bundle and when you offered for him to hold the baby, his eyes widened. 

His hands were gentle as he took the bundle to his chest, gently rocking his arms. 

He was almost a natural, and when the cries calmed down, he chuckled. 

Hanzo saw the pride within your face as you turned to look at him. The love for you and his child was overflowing.

The archer had another reason to keep fighting. To keep living.

REAPER

Everything changed rather quickly the moment you became pregnant.

The cold demeanour was suddenly calm and caring, something of which was what you needed during the pregnancy. 

When labour came around and pain was surging, Reyes moved fast, carrying you to the medbay.

He was worried and rightly so as you cried out in pain. 

Reyes kept his hand on your forehead, soothing what pained emotions you were receiving and letting out. 

Your body was on fire for your partner did what he could to make sure you were pain-free as possible.

“Stay calm, You’re doing good.”

“Almost there, don’t worry, you’re doing well.”

He listened to your cries and it pained him, but the moment that it fell silent and another cry was heard, Reyes felt warm.

His heart felt bigger as he watched you hold your newborn baby.

Tears spilled from your eyes, Reyes moved his hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the warm and damp flesh.

When you held out your newborn to your partner, he hesitated, but his arms opened up and accepted the small bundle of newborn joy.

His eyes softened and he smiled, a genuine smile that made your own heart flutter with joy. 

Reyes was happy. He was in love. 

#overwatch #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #ow reaper #overwatch 2 #ow #fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #ow2 #overwatch headcanons #yazzfics

[slutforsilverfoxes]

hello! may i say i absolutely love your writing??? so i thought i’d request something :) aaron is readers first actual relationship (like her first serious one?) and her family dynamics have been difficult while growing up (absent father, not a really close relationship with her mother, she always felt like more of a flatmate to her yk?), so she hasn’t experienced what it feels like to be truly loved and wanted and aaron has given her that, which makes their relationship even more special and important to her. he’s basically the only person she fully trusts and vice versa. when they get into their first big fight, she gets overwhelmed and is afraid he’s going leave her and thinks things like “i knew this was too good to be true” etc. of course, they make up and aaron comforts her and assures her he’ll never leave her.

if this is something you don’t want to write, that’s totally fine!!! 🫶🏼

Thank you, sweet nonny, for your kind words and the request 🥹 And sorry this took me so long to post!! I hope you don't mind I tweaked a bit to play more on reader's anxiety than the fight aspect- I hope this is what you were looking for 🖤

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader (angsty angst + hurt/comfort)

—————

Stupid, you chastise yourself for the umpteenth time as the apartment door closes behind your partner. Evidently he’s taken all the air in the room with him because your lungs can’t seem to find any oxygen to breathe in. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. What did you think was going to happen?

Rather than staring at the closed door in the vain hope that Aaron will walk back through it, you scrub your hands over your face and head down the hall to his bedroom. You stand on your tiptoes to reach your duffel bag in the closet that’s been sitting on a shelf since he first insisted you keep some things at his apartment. Maybe if you just give him space and then apologize, he won’t leave. After your dad walked out, that strategy had worked on most of your mother’s relationships, however short-lived they happened to be.

Your heart breaks at the thought of losing Aaron over something so seemingly trivial. Why hadn't you fought harder, spoken with more confidence in your voice? Why couldn’t you just let it go?

You had planned a quiet dinner at Aaron’s place to celebrate six months of absolute bliss together. All you had told him last week was there would be a surprise waiting for him at home, courtesy of the shiny new key on your ring you had yet to use. You spent the evening cooking the recipe that you had been buying ingredients for when you bumped into him at the grocery store, a smile on your face while the memory replayed in your head. As the clock neared seven, you left the food in the oven to stay warm and went about setting the table, complete with fresh flowers, candles, and Aaron’s favorite red wine. Music played softly in the background, a series of songs you put together that reminded you of your boyfriend that he was never allowed to find out about. You gave the sauce simmering on the stove another taste test, smacking your lips together before adding another pinch of oregano.

Then, you fired off a quick Can’t wait to see you soon! text to your boyfriend and settled down on the couch with your book to wait for his arrival from Quantico.

You waited… and waited, and checked your phone, and waited some more. As the minutes ticked by and the smile on your face faltered, you reasoned with a sigh that the BAU had probably gotten a case, and he was busy briefing the team before heading halfway across the country. You were no stranger to receiving a text or call from the jet, an apology for the untimely case and promise to make it up to you as soon as he was home.

But this radio silence felt different, and you released your bottom lip from its cage beneath your teeth with a quiet hiss when the familiar metallic taste of your anxiety getting the better of you touched your tongue. A thousand and one scenarios flew through your mind, possibilities of Aaron being hurt in the field or succumbing to another one of those fainting spells that his teammate and friend, Dave, had once warned you about.

Or maybe, just maybe, he had grown tired of you and was trying to figure out how to break things off.

Reaching the six month mark was a new milestone for you in a relationship. Most of your other relationships, if you could even call them that, didn’t make it past the third date. Aaron could probably profile you in his sleep, tell you that the absence of your father in your life and your strained relationship with your mother made it hard for you to recognize genuine connection. That you were a serial people pleaser, even at the expense of your own health and wellbeing, convinced that if you said and did all the right things, you would be worthy of people’s attention, time, and affection.

Hell, the person who cut in front of you in line for coffee could probably tell that about you by the way you insisted they go ahead first.

As the digital clock on the stove flickered to 10:00, your nerves over Aaron’s welfare outcompeted your guilt over bothering him at work. You unlocked your phone to find your earlier text to him delivered but unread, and pressed his contact picture to place the call. He picked up on the third ring, and you released a sigh of relief until he answered with an easy, “Hi, honey, how are you?”

Confusion muddled your features, but you kept your voice even as you answered, “Fine, my love. You got a new case?”

“Luckily no, and I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to your text earlier. I just got caught up trying to finish this report so I don’t have to work this weekend while we…” He trailed off with a quiet curse before coming back on the line. “Baby,” he breathed out, a heavy sigh laced with regret. “We were supposed to celebrate tonight, weren’t we?”

“It’s okay,” you offered immediately, not really answering his question as your gaze flicked up to the wax dripping down the half-eroded candles.

“No,” he responded firmly, and you could hear the distinct shuffling of papers in the background. “It’s not okay. It’s late, so there shouldn’t be traffic now. I’ll be home in twenty.”

You had spent those twenty minutes cleaning up the kitchen and convincing yourself that you weren’t really upset, just worried that he hadn’t eaten all day or taken proper care of himself. Then you changed out of your dress, opting instead for sweatpants and one of Aaron's old law school shirts to appear as casual as possible. By the time you heard his key in the lock, you were ready to meet him at the door with a smile.

“Hi, baby,” you purred in greeting, cupping Aaron's face in your hands and drawing him down for a sweet kiss. He practically melted into your touch, pressing his lips to yours between words of apology. “It’s okay, really,” you answered easily with a shrug. “We can just have what I made tomorrow!”

Aaron’s mouth turned downward at that, and you immediately criticized yourself for mentioning the meal at all. “Sweetheart-”

“Aar, baby, it was nothing,” you attempted to laugh it off, but his brows furrowed even deeper at your insistence.

“Why aren’t you upset? You should be upset.”

“Why?” you challenged in return, smoothing your hands along his arms even as your fear that he was trying to push you away reared its ugly head. “I know how difficult your job is. I don’t expect you to remember every little thing we talk about.”

“Y/N, no.” His voice was firm as he gripped your shoulders and dipped his head down to meet your gaze. “This wasn’t a little thing. Just… give me a minute and then we’ll talk.”

And now, here you are, hastily packing your bag and trying to make your escape before he returns to avoid having that dreaded conversation. The trite It's not you, it’s me and It’s for the best and You should be someone’s priority. Aaron had already sighed out the classic You deserve better before walking out the door.

You jump in surprise at the sound of Aaron’s voice rumbling over to you from the bedroom doorway. “Are we going somewhere?”

You look up at him and his heart breaks at the way your eyes are glistening in the dim light. “I thought I should spend a few days at my place. Give you some space to breathe.” And save you the hard part of saying we shouldn’t be together anymore.

His bags fall to the floor unceremoniously, and Aaron crosses the room in two short strides to cup your face in his hands, brows furrowed, eyes searching yours. “Why would I ever want to be apart from you when I don’t have to be?”

You gape at him in disbelief. “You don’t want me to leave?”

His answer is firm, resolute, a simple, “No.”

“And you’re not leaving me?”

“Absolutely not.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you down beside him, tucking you into his broad chest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear when I left. I just went to get my things from the car, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry for assuming the worst,” you whisper. Your voice is so small and fragile, and Aaron tightens his hold on you. “I just thought…”

“You’re used to people not sticking around?” You nod, his starched shirt brushing against your cheek with the movement.

Aaron pulls back a bit to tilt your chin up, his gaze soft yet determined as he looks into your eyes. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. You understand?” You nod again, and he dots kisses all over your face until your mouth turns up in a genuine smile. “You-” He takes a deep breath and pulls your hand into his lap, running his thumb over your knuckles before continuing, “You have made my life- and Jack’s- infinitely better, and I can’t picture our family without you now.” 

You lift your joined hands to your mouth to press a kiss to the back of his hand. Then, hesitantly, you ask, “Aaron?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you get upset about me not getting upset?”

“Because you deserve the world, angel,” he answers firmly. “And you deserve better than the bullshit I pulled tonight. And…” He trails off, and you can feel the tension mounting in the rise of his shoulders. Placing your hand on his taut muscles, you rub it back and forth in a soothing pattern until he releases a breath and admits, “It reminded me of my marriage, when things started falling apart before the divorce. Haley had gotten so used to my absence or making work a priority that she would just excuse things. First it was little things, like not answering a text for hours.”

“Huh, you don’t say,” you interject, and Aaron’s gaze cuts over to you to find a cheeky smile on your face.

He nudges your shoulder with his own, muttering an apology before continuing, “Then it was bigger things. Holidays and trips and back to school nights. I even- I missed Jack’s first steps, y’know that? I was on a case, halfway across the country, and I didn’t see the video she sent me until days later.”

“Aaron,” you sigh, now tucking him into your chest. “Do you know what Jack’s going to remember? That you were always there when it counted. He’s going to remember the night you went out in the rain to find his special Darth Vader suit for Halloween, and the countless hours you and Dave put in to coach his soccer team to the championship, and the blanket forts and movie nights and walks in the park with ice cream dripping down our wrists until it’s an unsalvageable mess. You’re his hero, you big dummy.”

Aaron shifts until his head is in your lap, looking up at you with a small smile and glistening eyes. “How did we get here?”

“You gave me a key to your apartment and then missed our anniversary dinner.”

“Thank you, you sassy little thing.” He playfully tugs at your hair falling down from your shoulders and framing his face. “I mean, I was supposed to be apologizing and groveling at your feet for my transgressions, but here you are comforting me instead. You really do-”

“If you say deserve better, I’m going to beat you up, Aaron,” you threaten, although the smile on your face says otherwise.

He mimes zipping his lips, then twists his wrist around to glance at his watch. “It’s still our six month anniversary for another hour or so, and the apartment smells divine. You up for a late night meal?”

Leaning down, you nuzzle your nose against his before answering, “Deal. But I’m sitting pretty at the table and you’re serving me, Hotchner.”

“In just an apron and nothing else underneath?”

“Oh, hell yes,” you squeal in delight. “You’re in trouble now, baby. I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth.”

“As you should, my love. As you should.”

__________

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies

#this is unfortunately how my brain works #ow my feelings #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x female reader #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #reader request #angst and hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #angst with comfort

[yandere-sins]

Happy Valentine’s, my Love

a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;

Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.

When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too. 

But you were wrong.

You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.

Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.

So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…

He forgot.

Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care. 

There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could. 

Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.

He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return. 

You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.

Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you. 

"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."

Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger. 

"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him. 

"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."

Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?" 

Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him. 

"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."

 Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."

You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."

Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…

Hesitated. 

A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you. 

Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself. 

"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile. 

"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward." 

Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.

"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."

Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"

Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile. 

Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?

"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder. 

"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."

Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.

"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface. 

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"

His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"

"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."

"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words. 

Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."

"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."

He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.

"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."

Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in. 

"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake. 

You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this. 

Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you. 

And you believed him.

"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.

"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

[larphis]

Kate Bush last year after Stranger Things came out: Wow well, didn’t expect young people to blast my music again! That’s great, both for my bank account and the happiness I feel from my music being shared through a younger generation!

Kate Bush, today: Wait… why do I hear boss music?

OFMD fandom:

#the way I was both between laughing and sobbing at the sheer fanfiction-ness of that sceen #it was like something out of a dream #David Jenkins I owe you my life #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2e3 #edward teach #stede bonnet #Kate bush #stranger things

[tonberry-yoda]

I'm bored, so here's some Cole Cassidy heacanons for my fellow simps

totally havent been thinking about this man all day 👀

he will purposely tickle you with his beard when he kisses you

it already tickles when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, but the added fluffy beard and soft hair will have you laughing until you can't breath fr

he always smells good, like you cant even put your finger on what it is, but he just smells good

will wrap you in the little poncho he has on after you're done with a battle

will keep you FAR away from ashe, doesnt wanna cause a ruckus ofc

loves your laugh, really makes it his goal to get you laughing just so he can hear it

this man is literally a TEDDY BEAR so expect lots of cuddles

also expect him to complain about always being big spoon and will BEG you to let him be little spoon every once and a while

he's just a big baby

he tells the most boring stories, but also the most interesting ones, but please for the love of GOD listen to this man because he loves it when you do fr

will let you wear his hat

if you wear bras, expect to walk into your room and find him trying them on (that definitely solves the broken bra incident from a couple months ago)

dress up like a cowboy/cowgirl and you will make this man FAINT

please say "it's high noon" while making fun of his accent. it makes him giggle and then you'll just say it back and forth for hours lmfaoooo

expect to wake up and find mr. cowboy hogging all of the sheets

throw his cigars

just do it

put his hair in little braids or just play with his braids and he will literally melt

call him names. nicknames or whatever and he will totally be fully in love with you

just know that this man is constantly thinking about you and how much he loves you, so give him plenty of kisses and a lot of love <3

~~~~~

overwatch masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

#i love this cowboy omg #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #<3 #overwatch #overwatch 2 #ow #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 x reader #ow x reader #ow2 x reader #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #jesse mccree #jesse mccree x reader #have a good night everyone!

[reidrot]

he looks like a tim burton character in this

#like the cheekbones.. #he rly has this high cheekbone long lashes thing going on #and he looks sleep deprived #this is tim burton core #whoever took this i owe u one #because i love this #hes so lana del rey #anthony lockwood #cameron chapman #anthony lockwood x reader #locklyle #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co netflix #lockwoodandco #lockwood and co #lockwood x lucy #lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #tim burton

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny had never liked the guy.

Still, he never thought he would stoop so low to do something like this to his sister. Danny didn't have a lot of options. This world wasn't new to them anymore, they had been here since he turned twelve two years ago and while the superheros were new, people in general were not.

Jazzs boyfriend, Crapface Mcgee was going to get the stuffing beaten out of him once Danny got ahold of him. He pretended to be Jazzs dream guy and convinced her to come help out his family farm in the middle of nowhere because it was struggling.

Only once she got there his entire personality changed like someone flipped a switch. He and his family were horrible to her and she was forced to flee in the middle of the night into a pitch black forest with nothing but the phone her brother had modified to be able to work anywhere regardless of what plane of reality it was on. They likely only let her keep it thinking she wouldn't get any reception out there.

Oh how wrong they were.

Unfortunately for the siblings Danny was still hurting from a fight with some eldrich horror a few days ago and couldn't fly that far away and certainly wouldn't be able to carry her back.

Upon seeing Batmans plane parked somewhere in the dark of Gothams streets he got an idea and told jazz not to freak out and not to hang up. Hed be there soon.

.

.

.

"What are you doing?" Batmans face appeared via some kind of hologram projector while he was already high in the air and while he wanted to fanboy over the high tech he was too worried about his sister. "Look, I'm sorry. I am. But I needed a way to save my sister. It shouldn't take too long and I should be back before tomorrow night."

Batman seemed to process this information, but Danny didn't give him a chance to resond, "Tell me where you want me to park it and I'll be there waiting for whatever punishment you want to deal out." He paused, "Within reason, of course."

Suprisingly, Batman agreed.

And Danny upheld his end of the bargain with his big sister waiting by his side

#danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #danny fenton #dp x dc #prompts #batman #jazz fenton #danny steals the batwing #and doesnt even try to get away with it #batman is impressed #damian likes his code of honor #batfam: new siblings? #danny and jazz: wait what?? #danny: i said Within Reason #batfam: we are not a punishment >:( #jason: i disagre-ow! #jason and danny are going to get along like a house on fire

[moonshade45]

Bro i can NOT take this anymore

The huskerdust fics have ruined me.

Where are my happy huskerdust fanfics with HAPPY endings, where Angel and husk go to heaven together or reunite there

Where are my fics where Angel and Molly have a happy ending in heaven and Molly DIDNT forget him? Or at least remembered him after a bit? Where are the fics where Molly is happy for Angel abt his relationship with Husk and helps him cope while he waits for husk to ascend to heaven?

WHY ARE THE HUSKERDUST SO FKING DEPRESSING 😭

PLEASE IF ANYONE OUT THERE HAS FICS LIKE THIS, I NEED TO READ EM, AO3 OR WATTPAD EVEN IM THAT DESPERATE-!

#hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #molly hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #can you tell that these fics have destroyed me? #I almost sobbed when I read a fic with Molly not k owing who Angel was #huskerdust