#wearing a fabric mask is what i do outside and i can generally go for closer to an hour without a break like that but

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #konig x you #konig x reader #nikto x reader #sebastian krueger #krueger x reader #cod nikto #konig cod #neighbor!reader

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hello. I've been feeling like shit lately, so, if it's not too much to ask, can you write a trans spider reader with miguel comforting him about his dysphoria and transphobic family? Sfw, please. Thank you so much and I hope you have an amazing day/night.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK A WHILE, I GENUINELY HAVE GOTTEN TOO CARRIED AWAY IN OTHER STUFF BUT I HOPE THIS SUFFICES! Thank you so much for your ask, and I hope when horrible days bring in dysphoria, this fic can help you go through it just a bit ^-^. I hope you have an amazing day/night too! :D 

All That Matters

Tags: Miguel O’hara and ftm!reader, Miguel and male!reader, Miguel and Spiderman!reader, Platonic fic, Platonic relationship, transphobic background, transphobic family, angst, slight angst, angst to fluff, friends, leaving home, being Out and Proud!, Every Spiderman is respectful or else, Miguel is supportive, Miguel is awkward, He tries his best truly, Hurt to comfort, this goes out to all my FtMs!

As if the trauma of getting bitten by a radioactive spider wasn't enough, the resentment your family has towards you for simply being your authentic self adds to the pile of already growing self-hatred. It didn't take much for you to leave your universe and join the Spider Society. One missed anomaly made its way into your world and the next thing you know you're already situated in the many vacant rooms the Spider HQ provides. 

—

Every Spider-Person comes with a tragic backstory. Their uncle or aunt died, they never got the love of their life, they somehow lost their powers amidst a big fight, they lost to a supervillain, etc. And with every spider-person, comes a bag of unhealed trauma and inner conflict that even Therapist Spiderman can't heal. 

In your case, it was your family. As if the trauma of getting bitten by a radioactive spider wasn't enough, the resentment your family has towards you for simply being your authentic self adds to the pile of already growing self-hatred. It didn't take much for you to leave your universe and join the Spider Society. One missed anomaly made its way into your world and the next thing you know you're already situated in the many vacant rooms the Spider HQ provides. The face of your family, shocked and hurt and confused when you pulled down your mask and left them was the last thing you remembered of them. After moving your scarce belongings, you left your universe without looking back through the portal. 

But somehow, the past always bites back.

It had been a shitty week in general. You misplaced your comfortable binder in the laundry basket and shoved it inside the washing machine along with your other shirts, resulting in the fabric shrinking and making it unusable. So you resorted to your other binder, admittedly, the less comfortable one, but that would have to do until you buy another binder with the same soft fabric your soiled one had. It didn't show awkwardly on the outside, under your suit, or whenever you wear casual clothes around the HQ, so you made do. 

Then, a stray anomaly just had to stumble into your original universe, and while you could've told Miguel you wanted to sit this one out, your adrenaline from the last mission an hour ago hasn't faded yet. To be fair, you'd forgotten the place even existed. So, without much more thinking, you jumped into the portal with Miguel leading and do what you do best—Kick some ass.

But of course, the Spiderman luck just had to spoil the fun.

Miguel was throwing punches and you were swinging from one building to another, trying to push down the prying nostalgia as you passed one apartment to the other. It wasn't until you and Miguel got the anomaly webbed up and ready to be transported back to the base did you caught a familiar face in the corner of your eye. With your spidey senses practically shooting up your spine, you turned to look at the end of the road, just peeking behind a building. 

It's your family member. One of them, at least, from the look of shock on their face, jaws dropped to the floor and eyes shaking. You knew it was them when your blood ran cold. Your eyes meet theirs, and you can feel your stomach drop, bile rising instead. You had to physically look away and focus on Miguel instead who was opening the portal before-

They called out. The name pushes down the nausea but instead raises your blood, curdling it through your veins. You feel your hand curl into fists, breath coming out short. They only ever knew your old name- your dead name. After all this time, even after you left, even after they saw you as Spiderman, they will only ever know you as ‘that little girl who left her family’. If your eyes could pierce through your mask, you'd be giving them a withering stare, arms shaking with restrained anger.

“Let's head back,” The portal hums to life. Something in your chest loosens, and you turn to see Miguel hauling the anomaly like a sack, which makes you huff in amusement. The man turns, before he looks over at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, let's go,” You nodded curtly, letting your muscles loosen. Miguel hums before he enters the portal and you follow behind him. 

Once the anomaly is taken into its cell, you excuse yourself from Miguel and go straight to your room. That rising bile has managed to inch it way closer and you didn't feel like dealing with it at work. Miguel nodded at you and you went on your way, swimming past walkways and other spideys until you reached your quarters. The door slides open after your recognition. The second it closes and locks, you throw off your mask with a growl. It lands near your mirror, just at the foot of it. As you approach it, you notice your reflection, your suit gleams in the afternoon sun, your hair misused from being inside your mask the whole day. You glance over your figure, before you sigh, and head into your bathroom with a shirt and pants in hand. 

When you've changed into your designated oversized shirt and boxers, you were lying on your bed, phone in hand and watching something to get your mind off of the horrible day, a knock alerted you. Then, a voice calls out. “Hey, sorry to bother you, are you in there?”

It’s Miguel, you thought. “Yeah, hold on a sec’,” 

You paused your video and sat your phone down. After sliding to the edge of your bed, you shoot your web at the button that opens your door, and it slides to reveal Miguel in his day clothes. Other than his apprehensive face, his body is trying its hardest to act casually.

“Sorry I-” He takes a breath, his eyes glancing somewhere beside your doorway. “I saw what happened earlier, in your universe.”

A sigh leaves your lips. A soreness suddenly appears on your neck as your jaw locks, before you manage a cough. “Yeah, my bad about that it was-”

“No, I- we didn't know-”

“I should've told-”

“You don't owe me-” With that, Miguel clamps his mouth, before he sighs. You huff out a cut-off laugh before standing and putting your phone on its charging pad, your back against Miguel. “Listen, I don't know what you went through, or how bad it was,”

You turn slightly, eyes cast to your snowy carpet. “But I know no one deserves to be treated the way you were,” 

“If they were the reason you left your universe, I understand. But you're a part of us now, a part of this universe. You’re in the year 2099, we haven't had a problem with transphobes and bigoted people in years, if that makes you feel any better,”

You scoff, blinking the annoying sting behind your eyes. 

“I just want you to know we don't see you any different. We don't see you for your body, your voice, mannerisms, or anything else. What you say your name is, your type of Spiderman, is all that matters. No one pries for no one's business here.” When you raise your head, you find Miguel trying—managing—a small smile, his fang poking out, making you snicker. 

“Lyla told you to do that?” You smirks, before Miguel drops the smile and swipes back a fallen strand of his peppery hair. 

“The smile- yeah, I told her I don't do that. But not… not the rest. I mean that, we all do. It's in the contract,” 

You laugh, and something lifts inside your chest when you what Miguel huff. “Wait- we have a contract?”

“No- never mind that,” He shakes his head, which elicits another chuckle from you. “We don't have a contact but … doesn't make what I said less genuine,” 

It halts your thoughts. A gush of emotions ran through your head, some through your heart which fills it to the brim. You took a breath, once, twice, before managing a solid nod, a small smile on your lips. The man you knew as your boss—the leader, captain, whatever anyone wants to call it—Has always been closed off, doing missions and interacting as needed. You've seen him with Peter B. Or maybe Jessica, but that's all. The fact that he went out of his way, either by his own volition or from Lyla’s pestering, to say what he’d call a ‘supportive’ message, then it worked. Miguel mimics your small smile. He blinks before he leans on your doorway, arms crossed. 

“Anyway, I came to ask if you wanted to join me in the training room. Blow off some steam and all,” 

You answer with a hum. “I guess I could… I’ll get change then,” 

The man nods and moves away from your doorway. Your web dissolves and lets the door slide shut, leaving you in your privacy. You quickly grab your athletic clothes and strip off the shirt and boxers. After putting it on, you find yourself in your mirror reflection. The day hasn't ended yet, but maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Miguel is waiting opposite your door as it opens. You had your phone and water bottle in hand, and your headphones—One of the only things you brought with you—hung on your neck. “Let’s go,” 

The man nods and walks beside you through the hallway, flicking on his sunglasses as you both make your way to the wider and more crowded walkways. 

Requests are open! remember to reblog!

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x ftm!reader #miguel o'hara x trans!reader #miguel o'hara and reader #miguel o'hara platonic reader

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Mafia AU (Chapter 18)

+18, minors DNI

Summery: Simon and (Y/N) finally cement their relationship, now that they have Price's permission.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Sex, cockwarming, sex over a desk, complicated feelings regarding being loved.

Simon waited a day and a half of just following (Y/N) around, without his mask on, Price not only forgiving him but also trusting him with his son's body and heart had been a confidence boost he had never had. It was more than just a promotion, it made him higher rank than Simon could ever hope to achieve, not only as a bodyguard but also as the potential spouse to the next leader. Simon knew they would have to keep it quiet outside the family, but by the gods did he hunger for (Y/N)’s touch. It was more intoxicating than anything his father had ever introduced to Simon.

Simon sighed and watched as (Y/N) came back from interrogation training with some of the newest recruits. Simon still hadn’t gotten the balls to actually watch (Y/N) work on someone, sure, it got results but if it had made Johnny sick to the stomach…. Well (Y/N) would have to be creative for that to happen.

Simon stood up and walked over as Graves walked out close behind, genuinely following (Y/N) around like a puppy. Simon stood in front of (Y/N), he had opted out of his usual t-shirt and jeans, for slightly newer jeans and a white button up, 3 of the buttons were undone showing a bit of chest hair but most importantly, (Y/N)’s necklace still hanging around Simon’s throat.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow but tugged Simon closer with it. His hands smoothed out the crinkles in the shirt's fabric before landing on his chest. Simon hardly liked this public display of attention, but he had missed (Y/N)’s touch, he knew very well that (Y/N) hadn’t slept since they came home.

“You sure do wear a sign of being mine without being mine.” (Y/N) commented, his hands snaked around Simon’s shoulders. “Graves, leave us.”

The lieutenant looked very displeased by the order but gave a nod. “Yes sir.” He said and left back into the room, (Y/N) didn’t say anything until the door closed. “Sit down.” (Y/N) said and let go of Simon. Simon followed the order and sat down, he placed his hands to the side and looked at (Y/N) who wasted no time in straddling him. “You give mixed signals, you say you want me, yet you say we could never work and now you practically shout to the entire world that you are mine, dressing just like this. Makes me want to bend you over the table behind you and just fuck you until the sun goes down. Would you like that, Ghost?”

Simon’s eyes darkened, and he bit his lip a bit. “I would like that a lot, sir.”

“You aren’t scared of what my dad will do?” (Y/N) kissed down the stubbled jaw, enjoying the feeling of the shaved beard against his lips. “Or did you just decide to fuck what anyone thought?”

“Your father approves.” He said with a pleasurable sigh. Simon leaned his head back, allowing (Y/N) full control. He trusted him blindly. (Y/N) had never given him any reason not to…. Well maybe besides the murdering, torturing and just general merc bullshit… but Simon wasn’t much better himself.

(Y/N) hummed. “Do you trust me and want me?” Simon nodded wordlessly before looking at (Y/N) again. (Y/N) smiled. “Good, how are you feeling about anything intimate?”

“You don’t have to do anything you are not comfortable with,” Simon said, this time being the one to reassure (Y/N).

(Y/N) leaned their foreheads together. “It felt right with you, in a way that I haven’t felt before. You… are special.”

Simon smiled and closed his eyes. “I love you too.”

(Y/N) smiled and kissed Simon before pulling away. “I have paperwork but that doesn’t mean we can’t do the little scenario after it.” (Y/N) hummed a bit and then got an idea. “My office can be locked and no offence Si, but I can feel just how hard you are, how about a little challenge?”

Simon bit his lip. “Aye, I am up for a challenge.” He said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Cock warming, you sit prettily on my lap while I do all my paperwork, if you can avoid moving then I will do so much more than just fuck you over the desk, today, if you don’t, well we fuck and continue on our day as normal.” (Y/N) said.

“And I can say no or stop at any time?” He asked.

“Yes.” (Y/N) didn’t hesitate.

Simon gave a nod. “Then yes.”

(Y/N) stood up. “I have a kit in my bag, clean yourself up before meeting me upstairs.”

“A kit? Were you expecting this?” Simon leaned back.

“No, but it never hurts to be prepared, I will see you later~” (Y/N) walked upstairs leaving Simon alone downstairs. He did as he promised, he did indeed sit behind his desk doing paperwork. Simon returned almost an hour later. (Y/N) leaned back and motioned him over. “How prepared are you?”

“I worked myself loose enough,” Simon said as he watched (Y/N) unbuckle his belt and drop his pants, Simon walked over and dropped his pants as well before, with the guidance of (Y/N), some lube and a condom, slowly sinking down on his girthy cock.

(Y/N) rubbed Simon’s shoulder. “Such a good boy, taking me so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Simon preened at the praise from (Y/N), he felt stretched out. Simon hadn’t been with anyone in years, it was almost too much. He felt (Y/N) move under him and took a deep breath, yet nothing happened beyond a slight shift. (Y/N) simply read and wrote down what he needed.

Every slight shift sent jolts of electricity up through Simon’s spine and stomach, he was rock hard, his cock strained and leaked pre-cum. His breathing was slightly laboured as his walls clenched around (Y/N)’s cock.

(Y/N) clicked his tongue. “Sit still.” He said. Simon groaned a bit but tried to sit as still as possible. It was quite possibly the best torture (Y/N) could ever come up with, Simon was too caught up in his own thoughts about (Y/N) to have said no, not that he wanted to say no, despite everything he wanted and craved (Y/N), now it was only a question of making (Y/N) realise he could love, even if it took years and years of hard work. (Y/N) shifted again. Simon bit his lip to contain his moans and whimpers, his legs were shaking with pleasure, he wanted so desperately to move and to touch his cock, yet he didn’t.

He bent forward and held onto the table, everything was hot and this certainly didn’t help. Simon felt himself slowly get used to the girth but the feeling of every tiny movement, every little brush across his prostate, was driving him mad.

Simon felt a knot begin to tie itself in his stomach as (Y/N) once again shifted, his body rested on Simon’s as he put the paperwork away in a drawer, every movement threatened to send Simon further and further towards the edge.

“Good boy~” (Y/N) purred right next to his ear, and a pleasurable shiver went up his spine. (Y/N) pushed Simon down onto the table, lifting them both up as he did. He stayed inside Simon as he leaned down, grabbing another bottle of lube.

“Another bottle of lube, sir?” Simon moaned softly. “Should I be flattered?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “A man has his needs. So tell me, did you come to me as a pet or a toy?” (Y/N) ran his hand down Simon’s back, relishing the twitches of excitement as his touch electrified Simon’s flesh.

Simon moaned again, not holding back. “A pet, yours eternally, devoted blindly,” Simon said, clenching his walls around (Y/N). (Y/N) moaned lightly.

“Such a devoted pet~” (Y/N) said, he pulled out as he squirted more lube on his cock, and his lips kissed down Simon’s back. “Tell me your safe word, Si.” (Y/N) said softly.

Simon’s mind was reeling, he registered the words and groaned, his head hit the table, his hair splayed pathetically out. “Hmmmm, pineapple.”

(Y/N) gave a nod. “Okay, Pineapple or stop means I will stop, if I notice you floating away I will slow down and ask you if you are feeling red, which means we stop, yellow, be on edge but we can keep going or green if you are okay and we can keep going as always. Do you get that?”

Simon nodded weakly, he felt empty, and a whine escaped his lips.

“Pet, I need you to use your words, do you understand me?” (Y/N) asked softly.

“Yes sir,” Simon said, his legs gave out and he was barely hanging on. His cock was rock hard yet Simon didn’t reach down and touch it. “Hmm, please sir, fuck me, I am ready.”

“Good pet~” (Y/N) praised which sent Simon further into sub-space. He was practically puddy in (Y/N)’s hands.

(Y/N) grabbed Simon’s hips before easing himself in again, having been inside Simon for the last hour and a half meant there was no need for starting slow. (Y/N) began thrusting in and out. His pace was almost merciless, (Y/N) wanted the feeling of Simon’s warm hole to never be over. “You look so hot like that, splayed out over my desk, whimpering and moaning as I fuck you good.”

Simon moaned louder and clenched around (Y/N), the knot in his stomach was getting tighter. “Thank you, sir!”

“Fuck you feel so good,” (Y/N) said as Simon clenched around his cock, (Y/N) moaned and leaned against Simon’s back, pinning Simon further to the table as he fucked into him.

Simon arched his back, meeting (Y/N) halfway there, his face was entirely pushed against the hard wooden table his cock was dripping pre cum. Simon moaned, the feeling of (Y/N) holding him onto the desk.

He felt a perverted version of safety as (Y/N) began thrusting in and out of him. It was almost enough to make Simon pretend (Y/N) loved him the same way Simon loved (Y/N).

A knot began building in his stomach, Simon held onto the table as he pushed against (Y/N), meeting his thrusts and fucking himself, his cock was rock hard. “You are so good for me~” (Y/N) moaned out, fucking into Simon harder though not rougher.

“Thank you, sir. You fill me so good!” Simon moaned out, his head hit against the table as (Y/N) hit his prostate. (Y/N) took note of that and smirked, he adjusted himself to hit Simon’s prostate over and over again. The knot in Simon's stomach continued to grow into a huge mess of rope, he was slowly coming undone.

(Y/N) leaned in over Simon, he kept fucking into him as he kissed down Simon’s clothed back. “You are so good for me, baby boy.” He praised freely.

Simon preened at the praise, he was getting pushed closer and closer to the edge. “I am so close, sir!”

“Then cum for me, baby.” (Y/N) said, feeling himself get close to the edge.

Hearing those words pushed Simon right over the edge, white streaks of cum sprayed down on the carpet underneath them. He clenched around (Y/N) which sent him over the edge. (Y/N)’s cum shot into the condom as he collapsed onto Simon. “Oh gods, Si, that was amazing, you were amazing.” (Y/N) breathed out as pure bliss overtook his mind. He pushed himself up and gently rubbed Simon’s back as he pulled out. “Just a moment, Si.” He pulled the condom off, tied it and threw it out. He wiped Simon’s ass from excess lube and helped him get dressed and sit down on the chair before handing him a bottle of water. “How are you doing?”

Simon, still cock drunk, looked at him with a slight smile. “Hmm, very good, sir.”

“Good, drink up. We will need to go home within the hour, dinner will be ready soon.” (Y/N) said before bringing another chair over. He leaned back.

“I should be ready by then, I just need to get my mind straight.” Simon drank from the bottle. “I haven’t been fucked that good in… ever.”

“As long as you wish and we have time, I could fuck you again.” (Y/N) chuckled.

Simon chuckled as well. He looked at (Y/N) and smiled a bit. “I would like that.”

“And you can say no but I would like to share my bed with you every night.” (Y/N) said softly.

“I would like that, perhaps we could both sleep at night,” Simon said. “And it would be safest, I would always be close.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, that would be good, I am almost ready to just pass out right now. Maybe that’s the adrenaline dropping.”

“Oh definitely.” Ghost said. “Hey, why did the mafia hire a magician?”

(Y/N) looked confused, he shrugged. “Why?”

“They heard he was good at making people disappear.”

(Y/N) blinked before groaning, he rested his head against Simon’s shoulder before chuckling. “Honestly, I should have been able to figure that one out, had I thought about it for a second.” He said.

Simon kissed the top of his head. “I love you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) looked up at him and smiled. “I love you too, Simon.”

Tag list:

@one-green-frog

@rasberry-jupiter

#cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x male reader #cod men x male reader #male reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #loudblondes cod mafia au

[callmehere-iwillappear]

npwd hours. have some fun facts

(this will definitely be added to/updated later)

Raph (Red) (he/she)

literally the only one who doesn't wear clothes (outside of his shorts/mask)

still does the Red Angel of Preventing Harm thing

splinter... wasn't doing great for a good while after the mutation happened (esp since on top of everything in canon he ALSO lost three of his kids)

when raph was around eight or so though he got very very sick and almost died. she tried to take care of herself because she assumed splinter wouldn't, but could only do so much. thankfully splinter found out before it was too late and was able to save her. it was a pretty good wakeup call and while he's still super depressed he's been much more present since then

Leo (Leon) (he/him)

growing up with hypno (and eventually warren) did nothing but increase his flair for the dramatic and love of magic

he was 100% hypno's assistant for shows a lot of the time. the turtle thing was passed off as a 'costume'

knows ALL the best magic tricks

warren came along when leo was around five or six

when hypno and warren got mutated they (obviously) couldn't keep their jobs so they took to doing crimes to get money. small crimes because they don't want to be a bad influence on leo but they also do need the money to put a roof over his head

they do try to hide the fact that they do crimes from leo. he absolutely knows but he lets them think he doesn't

they have thrown hands with raph on more than one occasion. raph did start going a bit easier on them after one of them mentioned at some point they had a kid at home. raph Does Not Know that said kid is leo

Donnie (Othello) (he/they)

lives in an apartment. No Space for a lab. he wants one SO BAD.

still tinkers a lot and fixes things around the house with what he can find

the o'neils have the best wifi in the state of new york

they did create shelldon! he's stuck in donnie's computer though - not enough resources to build a body

likes fashion and dresses up for fun sometimes but wears the hoodie most of the time bc it's familiar/safe

no battle shell really... they do have a fake shell but it's more for storage than anything else since they don't get in fights. like a backpack basically

no gauntlet thingy, no magic goggles - he does have noise cancelling headphones he keeps in his shellpack

they do have goggles for work (for eye protection) just not the 3d glasses lookin goggles they have in canon

Mikey (Mike) (he/she/they)

VERY in tune with his mystics (trained by draxum)

LOVES skateboarding. badgered draxum into having a skate ramp installed for them

doesn't hate humanity (and has even managed to soften draxum up a bit. not much but a bit) and actually thinks a lot of their stuff is super cool

mutating the humans was the compromise she and draxum came to rather than killing them. she doesn't see a problem with it bc 'it's better than killing all of them'

morals are a bit... looser than canon mikey's due to draxum's influence

take your kid to work day more like [draxum voice] someone will die. [mikey voice] of fun!

But Also: aww little guy - oh he's a bit fucked up actually

sneaks up to the surface sometimes to do graffiti. has ABSOLUTELY been seen more than once but thinks she's so sneaky

draxum wasn't the best at first (treated mikey like a warrior rather than a kid) but he got better. he's a good dad now

hugin and munin would both kill for her without question

mikey talks about their internet friends enough that draxum is eventually like. ok i will make an exception for three (3) humans because my child likes them

general

they got their colors bc lou jitsu tied scraps of fabric onto them to be able to tell them apart

#talk tag #npwd

[southern-belle-outcasts]

Okay I tried to do a quick scroll before I went back to work, I already walked 8mi today and it took a lot out of me but I need to do flats so it was literally just a uber fast ‘what might be important’.

I see a lot of y’all getting sick and I’ma put on my big sib hat for a moment (I’m the oldest of 9 okay I did earn that title), and also these are just good reminders in general (read: Tagg fucking take your own advice ffs). It might get a smidge lengthy so under read more.

Getting sick isn’t a moral failing, it’s literally bugs’ job to fuck with us but to help you dodge this shit since I myself have a crappy immune system and cannot fucking afford being sick (and apart from that fucky business a few months ago have mostly dodged contagious stuff in the last few years)….continue reading.

Stay hydrated. I’m fucking terrible at this with plain water in the winter because who the fuck wants to drink water that MUST be cold when you’re already struggling to stay warm right now? Not me. So add some lemon (yay vitamin C). I can’t buy fresh lemons. I forget them and they go bad. BUT the bottled stuff while it does not taste as good imo, still has the good shit. So flavor and vit c. Or add it to herbal tea! Something that isn’t monster or dark soda or coffee (yes I’m aware those are part of the major food groups I don’t care you dehydrated walking plant). Broth soups also count- chicken soup is the cure all for a reason- veggies and hydration in one!!!

Eat. Something. You can’t run on nothing. Fed is better than not, period. Eating what you can afford is doing yourself better than going hungry for the sake of those two nights of ‘healthy food’.

If you stopped masking, go back to it. No seriously don’t stop. Buy one with a print you like with the slot for a filter and wear that shit. I’m sure most of my dodging illness during the height of lockdown while being not able to isolate in high trafficked places was the masking. That and the hand washing and hand sanitizers.

Speaking of- the one brand I used to buy is a boycott but there are lotion hand sanitizers out there if you’re like me, and you can just look at hand sanitizer and your hands crack. Highly recommend. 13/10. Not going back.

Indoor clothes/outside clothes- keep your ‘been everywhere all day’ cooties off the bed and your furniture. Will also reduce allergens embedding in the places where you’re laying down. Even if you didn’t shower, you’re doing yourself a favor changing the clothes. Yes I know this is more laundry, so there’s also clothing/fabric sanitizer. It’s like 8$ for a can but that’s an option if extra laundry is a Herculean task of which I understand the trials and tribulations.

If you can afford it- get some elderberry supplement. It’s not as difficult to find as it was in 2020. Ideally you take it just regularly, in a pinch, start taking it as soon as you feel ick to lessen it.

Lots of garlic, pepper, and ginger in your food. That is all. Season your food. Good food, better immune system, no notes needed.

Here is where you’re going to laugh at me and tell me to fuck off- SLEEP. Look, I am well aware okay, I know. But even if you have insomnia like me, your body will get more rest just by laying down and closing your eyes than it will by not doing so even if you didn’t even hit light sleep let alone REM.

Okay that’s it. That’s the post. I am not going to call it no brainer stuff because all of these things I had to learn and some were definitely as an adult, so just in case nobody told you, it’s for you. If you’re adhd and forgot, this one’s also for you. I’m not claiming to be a health expert, I ain’t a doc, just an expert at trying to dodge urgent care while living in a dystopia with no health insurance and I don’t like seeing people down and feeling crappy. :D

#;out of the south

[therealnightcity]

Character Study--Hiro

Layer 1: The Outside

-Name: Hiro Oda

-Eye Color: Originally brown, and replaced with blue optics

-Hair Style/Color: Hiro has messy black hair, kept shorter on the sides. It’s usually worn in a bun or a short ponytail. He has black hair, and spends an embarrassing amount of time on it.

-Height: 5'4

-Clothing Style: Hiro's style isn't easy to categorize--he wears whatever catches his eye from crop tops and leathers, to button up shirts that are open down to his waist. He isn't afraid to wear color, or loud patterns, and showing skin, even if it's not always the most practical. When on missions or out and about, he disguises his face using his old Tyger Claws mask. He has two–one in red and the other in black. It’s a chore trying to get him to wear formal clothing, he hates getting dressed up and prefers fabric with a shine/interesting textures (especially leather, but he wouldn’t say no to a dash of latex on occasion, anything that catches the eye). His look is very much influenced by his upbringing, and there's no mistaking from for a Corpo or Nomad.

-Best Physical Feature: He’s attached to his tattoos, despite that they represent a part of his life he’s very much done with. He keeps them as a reminder, of sorts. He’s confident about his appearance and spends a lot of time working on it, and is slightly vain. If you asked someone else, they'd say his freckles are one of his most distinct, or his vibrant blue optics

Layer 02: The Inside

-Fears: He’s afraid of more than he likes to let on. He’s afraid of water especially if he can’t see the bottom of it–he never learned to swim. He’s definitely afraid of losing people he cares about–there’s not very many of them and he’s afraid of his defection from the Tyger Claws painting a target on them. While not exactly a fear he finds the Badlands unsettling–there’s so much open space and it’s oddly quiet, especially after the noise and lights of Night City.

-Guilty Pleasures: Real coffee (even though it’s a frivolous expense), baking, and trying to pet every stray cat he can find.

-Biggest Pet-peeves: How people tend to treat joytoys/dolls, as if they’re disposable. As someone’s who’s past is a bit spotty, it’s a sensitive topic and he gets grouchy/tight-lipped if you push him too much

-Ambitions for the Future: Beyond finding a way to extricate the chip and keep both him and Johnny in one piece? He’d like to eventually make enough doing merc work to be able to just make a living fixing stuff. He’s a good mechanic and would love the time/financial stability to be able to work on his hobbies more. And if he was fantasizing? Finding somewhere that feels like home, and where he's safe

Layer 03: Thoughts

-First thought waking up: I don’t have nearly enough coffee for this (in the event he managed to actually sleep in the first place)

-What they think about most: Trying to keep himself alive and fed, in NC this is a constant job and requires a lot of vigilance

-What they think about right before bed: So much–they have terrible insomnia so post-sleep anxiety is fairly common.

-What they think their good quality is: They’re generous and have a strong moral compass–will occasionally not charge people for gigs despite the monetary loss, especially if it seems like he’d be taking advantage of the situation or it doesn’t feel right. He’s kind, even if he does come off as rather prickly.

Layer 04: Either Or

-Single or group dates: Depends on what his partner prefers. He’s not one to set up formal dates though. He’d rather just go out for a casual cup of coffee or a late night bike ride. He only realizes it’s a date after the fact, usually.

-To be loved or respected: He’d rather be loved. He’s seen where only wanting respect gets you and he’d rather not turn out like his corpo older brother

-Beauty or Brains: He definitely coasts by on intuition, luck and good looks at times so he’s a bit biased but in regards to a partner, it doesn’t matter much to him? A sense of empathy/loyalty are more important to him than either.

-Dogs or Cats: Cats! He loves them (and owns two–a Sphinx named Kira, and a black cat he’s dubbed Goro–as it seems to share the same look of general disapproval

Layer 05: Do They…

-Lie?: Yes, if it's to keep himself safe. He tries not to lie to friends or family though, especially if it's only for his own benefit.

-Believe in themselves?: It depends on who’s asking. They come off as very confident but it hides a lot of deeply rooted insecurity. They’re more sensitive than they like to let on.

-Believe in love?: A bit. They admire the idea of it but don’t think it’s for them. It’s something they secretly really crave though. -Want someone?: Yes--whether or not he stops being stubborn enough to admit it is another matter entirely.

Layer 06: Have They...

-Been on stage?: Yes, it’s a common thing (or at least, previously had been) and he’s fairly desensitized to it.

-Done drugs?: Tends to try really hard to stay away from them. Both his parents had issues with them and definitely played a role in their death. He uses airhypos/anasthetic grudgingly but that’s it.

-Changed who he was to fit in?: Not to fit in, per-se but to slide under the radar better. He knows that it’s safer going unnoticed in Night City most of the time and that’s the way he likes it. He’s good at putting on masks for people though. It takes a lot of patience, and a bit of a thick skin to get him to drop it and show facets of his real personality. He’s a lot softer than he first lets on though.

Layer 07: What's their...

-Favorite Color: He'll wear pretty much anything but leans towards black, blues, red and pink.

-Favorite Animal: He loves cats (and has two that he dotes on like his children)

-Favorite Book: It would be challenging to get him to admit it, but he can’t read very well, but he really enjoys when others read to him. Poetry is some of his favorite.

-Favorite Game: Not a game per-se but he’s really into racing. Bikes are a hobby of his and he’s damned good at it, and has very little fear (and more than a little recklessness). He also wouldn’t say no to a game of pool once in a while, particularly if he can rope his friends into a game of it. He's not fantastic at it, but has fun anyway.

-Day their next birthday will be: He doesn’t know his birthday so he decided on Oct. 31st.

-How old they will be: 25 (at least he thinks so)

Layer 08: I…

-I Love: The people I’ve let get close to me

-I Feel: Determined. We’ll find a way where we get to decide our future, whatever the cost.

-I Hide: My fears and ugly bits of my past. I don’t like letting other people know and making them worry. I don’t want their pity.

-I Miss: Jackie. There’s still a lot of guilt there.

-I Wish: We had more time, or at least a more clear solution. I feel adrift.

#character headcanons #oc: hiro oda #cyberpunk ocs #cyberpunk 2077 #virtual photography

[spookylovesart]

SO I'm gonna do a catch up day today for Auctober cuz it's been bothering me how many days I've missed!

I most definitely won't be able to draw/have images for all of them so a majority of them will be just written. Anyway here they are under the cut:

Auctober Day 6 - Stim Toys

These are the main 3 stim toys I use! From left to right a Fidget Spinner, a plastic heart Slinky and a Tangle! All presented on my lovely sketchbook :-). I make sure that they're in my pocket at all times or else I can't go out.

Auctober Day 8 - Diverse

I don't really talk about myself like this cuz it's still a weird subject for me :-P. But I'm mixed! White-passing, but mixed none the less.

Auctober Day 10 - Self Care

Self care for me is getting cozy in my bed with some yummy food and watching old commercials for hours and hours. Maybe even drawing as I listen to them. I don't know why I like old commercials so much, something about them is very cozy to me :-)!

Auctober Day 11 - Neurodivergent Community

If it wasn't for the very accepting and lovely neurodivergent community, I don't think I would've been diagnosed 2 months ago! They really helped me learn about myself and realize a lot of things. Plus they helped me build some confidence which isn't very easy <:-S. So thank you to all who listened and accepted me :-]!!!

Auctober Day 12 - Sensory Euphoria

I LOVE LOVE the rain!!! I love the smell, the sound, the air, just the vibe of it all. Frogs also come out more often during the rain cuz of the rise in humidity that happens when it rains (Frogs breathe through their skin, so moist air is best for them since they're amphibians). Also when it rains in Animal Crossing, the frog villagers don't wear any raincoats or have umbrellas which I always thought was a very cute detail :-"]

I also just enjoy being outside on any day when it's not super hot. The cool winds blowing through the trees, the birds chirping, crunching leaves in the fall, the pine smell, the butterflies flying around flowers, bugs crawling on trees and plants. Sometimes you find something cool on the ground and add it to your collection of things you found on the ground outside lol!

Auctober Day 13 - Alternative Communication

Rather than answering with words, I sometimes just make a high pitched noise by sucking air through my lips in a specific way. I don't think my family minds when I do that? I'm 40% sure I get it from my dad cuz sometimes he makes that noise after he's done talking. Not sure if he notices he does that like I have.

Auctober Day 16 - Unmasking

As much as I love my family for accepting me as best as they can, they still can say some pretty hurtful things about people they don't know. And me wanting to fit in with them, I end up masking and saying these things about people too. But I don't want to! I hate basing people's worth on their intelligence. And I hate being mean in general :-(. Having these words thrown around has had me deal with a lot of internalized ableism over the years.

I have been working on what I say and trying to educate my family on what they're doing by saying "You don't know, maybe it could be hard for them!" or "Sometimes people are 'smart' in different ways." (really hate the word smart)

I still mask a lot in general around my family and in public, the only person who I don't mask around is my sister. It's grueling, but unmasking is gonna be better for me in the long run I think.

Auctober Day 17 - Sensory Profile

Senses I enjoy:

Weight on my body - I enjoy being hugged tight and having weight on me! It's very comfy in my opinion.

Salty/Umami foods - I really like MSG flavors, I feel like I put salt, garlic and Cholula on everything

Sour Candy - SOUR IS SO GOOD!! I know it makes my tongue hurt, but I DON'T CARE

Cotton Clothes - Pretty much every shirt I have is 100% cotton cuz if it's not I can f e e l it and it i t c h e s. Plus it's extra soft when washed with fabric softener :-)

Senses I loathe:

Dry Hands - Ah the words feeling in the world. Dry hands some how make every texture I normally like absolutely horrible.

Several Textures - Erasers, Paper, Any powders, polyester, cooked vegetables, chalkboards, unglazed clay, nonsanded wood, basically anything that sticks to my hands is the worst.

Perfume - I hate fabricated smells <3

Grease - The smell and the feel of it.

Sweets - I don't like sweet stuff at all, I don't even like chocolate and everyone likes chocolate!

TOO MUCH NOISE - The big one is this one. I have very sensitive ears and can hear everything going on even with noise cancelling headphones on.

Auctober Day 22 - Self Advocacy

I feel like I haven't been able to speak up about my needs very much my whole life, but I think since my diagnosis everyone in the house is (somewhat) more understanding that sometimes I can't do something. I still have yet to have enough confidence to say that out loud to them but hey, baby steps.

Auctober Day 24 - Parallel Play

Parallel play is pretty nice at times! My siblings and I do it a lot. It's comforting to know that there's people not forcing you to be involved in what they're doing and just allowing you to do your own thing around them :-]

#auctober #auctober 2022 #actually autistic #autism #neurodivergent #october prompts #catch up #my art #internalized ableism #spooky loves boba #spookylovesboba #spooky's art #day 6 #day 8 #day 10 #day 11 #day 12 #day 13 #day 16 #day 17 #day 22 #day 24 #long post #long long post

[dearestones]

Twisted Wonderland Matchup: Azul Ashengrotto #3

@jellyfishuuuuu Request: A twst matchup please ,romantically ,only students ,and thank u.

I'm a 5'5" (165cm) Arab girl who wears a hijab, with big, light brown eyes, red-framed glasses, and a round face. I'm into drawing (and crafting ,i am good with my hands), love all kinds of art and find beauty in alot of things if u look through multiple perspectives. I enjoy fanfics, video games(horror and non horror) and horror movies, and anime. I'm also into biology(mostly) and physics.i love technology and anything that has to do with it .

In terms of personality, I'm adaptable and can appear reserved in public. I've had trust issues due to past betrayals. With close friends, I'm more open, cheerful, and caring. I'm creative, passionate, and smart but lazy and unmotivated most of the time.i am trilingual, I speak Arabic (native) ,French and English and i plan to learn more.

I've had my share of struggles, including bullying and dealing with depression and anorexia for a year(in middle school which led for me to be insecure ,have self doubt and being antisocial) ,I strive to be the best version of myself but I am afraid that i won't make it (burntout gifted kid who is excepcted to still excel at everything (my mom has high standards for me that i never seem to meet to make her satisfied with me). I have a varied taste in music(pop ,jazz,classical, alt/indie ,but i love rock &roll and metal the most)and prefer comfortable, baggy clothes. I can be sarcastic and blunt with close friends but am generally polite and respectful but moody and pessimistic .I am anxious and I hate going outside but unfortunately i have to.

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After going through the description given, I believe that you best pair well with Azul Ashengrotto!

Azul doesn’t think of you as much, only what you can offer him if he ever decides to make a deal with you. However, he is quite taken aback by your headwear. As a merman, he’s never seen many mermaids who have decided to wear something in their hair (the drag in the water would hold them back). Masking this opportunity to gather information on your weaknesses and vulnerabilities, he’ll gladly ask you about the fabric that which you use to hide your hair. Why do you wear it? Is it a special type of fabric? As a merman who’s part octopus, it’s in his nature to be inquisitive, but feel free to tell him off if he gets too nosy or if you’re not comfortable answering questions about your culture. 

Azul is a classy sort of person, but he loves it when you create art! He has a deep respect for those who work with their hands, especially when it takes years of constant practice to perfect your craft. While he may not be as fluent in art as certain other students at Night Raven College, he can appreciate that you look for beauty through multiple perspectives. He has yet to meet that level of maturity, but he’s glad that he can see that trait in you.

As for your interests, he may not know all about the specifics of all of them (“What’s this fanfic you like reading?”), he does play video games from time to time. Honestly, it comes with the territory of being in the same club as one Idia Shroud. While he may not be as skilled or as into those types of entertainment, he can give you a run for your money if you give him time to practice. Furthermore, he doesn’t care what sort of video game you play, as long as he gets to play with you. (Horror games are his personal favorite, though. The Coral Sea and Jade in a good mood are far scarier, so he gets to use this time to mock the graphics or the weak jump scares or how you shy away in fear whenever you’re scared). 

Being interested in the sciences is another point for you in Azul’s book! He’s more interested in chemistry and how it relates to potions and alchemy, but biology and physics sound just as interesting. If you ever get close to Azul and if he ever feels comfortable, he could show you some aspects of cecaelia biology. However, he’ll mostly refer you to texts detailing the differences among human, beastfolk, and merfolk anatomy. 

Azul understands what it’s like to be betrayed in the past, especially when it comes to bullies. Like you, he had to deal with issues regarding his weight, which still affects him to this day. Despite this, while he may fall prey to becoming one of his bullies, he admires that you can rise above your past and become your best self. He endeavors to be his best self as well, but it’s harder for him. He feels that he has to take and assert power so that he can remain on top. 

Azul will never admit it, but he hopes that one day, the both of you will one day be comfortable enough to let down both of you guards so that you may be free to express yourselves. He admires your drive, but he will also be there to motivate you to do your best and to get things done. 

In addition, Azul is also impressed that you’re a polyglot. Three languages? That takes a lot of time and energy to master! He can understand being bilingual, but he’s truly floored when he hears that you’re trilingual. And you’re planning on learning more? That’s totally amazing!

Having a mom that expects too much from you is not an issue that Azul can relate with, but he will have your back. He’ll always support you and listen to you vent if you ever need someone to know how much your mother keeps expecting perfection, but can never be fully appeased by your efforts. Burnout is not a matter to be taken lightly, and while it can’t always be cured by menial efforts, he will gladly take you to the Lounge and treat you to a grand meal and dessert! (Free of charge, of course. If you ever want to make a contract concerning your situation… well, that’s another matter entirely). 

Overall, the both of you have similar backgrounds, but with different approaches to how you confront your past traumas. Together, the both of you can motivate and learn from each other to be your best selves. As long as you have trust and faith in your relationship, you’ll find that you have a great boyfriend in Azul. 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto #twst azul ashengrotto #dearestones #devintrinidad #character matchup #matchup

[lillybean730]

tell us more about the duality of kiwei. the public needs to know.

ok forewarning i may start rambling in this bc i have put a lot of thought into this guy and 90% isn't written down anywhere

ok came back to add a cut im so sorry for the unfiltered illness below im not going to edit it this is pure stream of consciousness

right so! for starters kiwei is for the most part very chill. a nice person, kind to children, helps old ladies cross the street etc etc. they also have so much goddamn grief and rage boiling inside begging for an outlet before they snap. (yes i do like the drk quest line how can you tell?)

they weren't always like that though, after the banquet and *especially* after haurchefaunt and ysayles deaths is really when this started building. see kiwei really gets stuck on the anger part of the stages of grief, and really doesn't start letting go until after they get compared to zenos. kiwei was really gunning to kill him after the massacre at the reach and hearing abt all the devastation he caused, and when zenos said "you want to rip my throat out huh buddy?" he was right. and that terrified and disgusted them. and getting called his friend? even worse

while all this turmoil was boiling within though, they really kept a vice grip on what did make them happy, namely their friends. alphinaud by that point was basically their little brother and alisaie was quickly joining the "honorary little sibling club", so they really tried to keep the mask from slipping to prevent those two from worrying. at this point they weren't all that close to the other scions actually, especially compared to how they become one big family by the end. anyway they also continued to be quite kind to strangers in an attempt to feel normal again, to try and find the joy of helping they got at the beginning of their travels. mixed results but hey they tried.

by shadowbringers the rage has died down a bit and mostly they're just tired. they feel like a living weapon and it doesn't help that many treat them like one too. when trying to sneak off to the tempest alone they genuinely didn't expect the scions to come with, given the inherent risk of standing next to a ticking time bomb. the events in the tempest are a huge turning point for kiweis emotional state. the kindness becomes less forced, friendships become deeper, and they (god forbid) occasionally express emotions to others outside of hitting things.

by endwalker theyre a lot calmer but that fear of doing harm just by the nature of being the warrior of light and being an impulsive person is really cranked up after the body snatching incident. and boy were they glad to finally kill zenos, he threatened their new family (and new happiness) for the last time.

basically, having this sort of impulse to hit people when they piss em off, the strength to kill gods, a deep desire to not hurt anyone, and the blood of hundreds on their hands makes for a contradictory sort of character

wow that became a stupid long discussion of their emotions let's talk design. kiwei is made of sharp lines and round curves. most of the spiky bits are "added" features let's say? sharp claws, scruffy hair, their facial tattoos, whatever weapon they have, and their little fang earrings. more basic features are round. their nose and face are round, and they prefer to wear soft fabrics instead of armor. there's a few outliers, scars in general to me are neither round nor sharp but that's up to personal views in design so i figured id mention it, and their little fangs bc kibby kat

even then there are softer sides to most spiky bits, their hair has braids (a tradition in their old family and honestly i will talk more abt that in a sec) and the claws also actually hold family meaning ok quick tangent

basically: the guy got disowned for "betraying the family by becoming an adventurer instead of the next matriarch". despite that, they still uphold a lot of family traditions. the braids are something their siblings did growing up, the bone carved jewelry is a family tradition (which im not talking abt here bc this is long enough im so sorry), and the sharp claws.

now: the timeline of claws works like this

ages 1-17ish: normal nails

(for women) ~17-before firstborn: allowed to grow out claws as a sign of being able to fight for oneself

after firstborn: cut those claws bc you might scratch ur baby

men do whatever you aren't there grow em out cut em who give a shit

so in the culture being an adult is signified by claws, but it's also a sign of immaturity. being an adult with nails means a position of authority and care over your family. it's sort of accepted that the mother's dont need to rely on claws to protect their kids.

how this applies to kiwei is up until shb kiwei had claws, but after some incidents where reaching out to touch someone (esp on the face) caused them to flinch they used their background in arcanima to help. they have painted sigils on their nails that project the image of claws without them actually being physical. by adjusting the flow of aether they can either become corporeal or disappear entirely. this occupies a weird space of maturity and immaturity, violence and comfort

a duality in other words

tldr: the cat is a little beast who is trying so hard to be kind despite the world seeming to be trying to make them a violent monster. kindness in the face of your own anger

honestly that tldr is all you need and im not sure i articulated this right

#god this is too long im so sorry i wrote all this no one is reading all that #anon opened some floodgates i suppose lol #my ocs #sure id like to find this again someday probably #tbh kiwei started as a joke character based on a cat i used to know #bc i didn't want to put a load of effort into a game i didn't know I'd stick with #not even my cat

[septemberbells]

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#cw co.vid / #extremely wild still having people treat me as nuts for my co.v.id precautions #like idk do you think i would still be making sure to wear an n/95 every time i go indoors even though it literally makes me so nauseaous #that i cannot think #and need to leave within 30 minutes to avoid throwing up #cw emetophobia #like do they think that i'm just... making myself sick for funsies? #wearing a fabric mask is what i do outside and i can generally go for closer to an hour without a break like that but #i'm (several risk factors) #i was sick five (5) times in winter of 2019-2020 (not co/vid) #like.... #people who share risk factors with me are saying this shit like #idk i can't tell them what to do but also like.... #what they're being told is safe is not safe #just.... hate this lol

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting Part 2

Hoodie

The area where you lived had a ton of back alleyways that acted as shortcuts in a pinch. They were generally safe but you often got an uncomfortable feeling when using them so you preferred to take the busier roads if you could.

Unfortunately, when you had gone to leave work that day, you had spotted the customer who had been harassing you the entire day. It wasn’t anything creepy but it was over-the-top persistent and you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. You slipped out the backdoor as a result. At least you’d get home sooner.

For the most part, you didn’t encounter anything too suspicious and the light from the streets illuminated where you were going.

The large bins outside the grocer’s home indicated that you were getting close. You sped up and rubbed your eyes blearily.

Ahead of you, a dog was barking from inside one of the buildings. It was a pretty noisy animal and you began peering around to see what the source of its agitation was. Ironically, you ended up bumping directly into him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, rubbing your shoulder.

The guy was tall, wearing dark clothing and standing right in the shadows. You could have probably noticed him if you were a little more awake.

He turned and your breath caught.

His face was obscured by a dark mask with red features stitched onto it. His hoodie which originally seemed dark was now illuminated into a soft yellow or orange, stained with a dark substance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice crackled out, clearly coming through a voice changer of some kind.

“I – I was just taking a shortcut home. I live near here so I thought… I really didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m super tired.”

“Tired or not, you shouldn’t have seen me,” the guy said. “Do you have a phone or a camera?”

Slowly, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I don’t have any cash in my wallet –“

“I don’t want your money!” he snapped. “I’m not some petty thief, believe me, I have better things to do with me time. Unlock this.”

You did so and he went through it with a gloved hand. He didn’t have a weapon but something in your gut warned you to just go along with it. Nobody covered up everything, including their voice, when they were up to something good. This guy may not be a thief… but the alternative didn’t feel too much better.

He shoved your phone back at you. “Get out of here and don’t breathe a word of this to anybody. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a good mood today.”

You swallowed nervously. “Thank you?”

“I’m serious,” he warned. “I can let you go just because you seem pathetic enough to not take this to the police but unless you want to catch a bullet in your back, you’ll keep quiet. My boss doesn’t like people getting involved with this nonsense.”

“A bullet?”

He didn’t answer and your heart thundered in your chest. Part of you wondered if he was going to kill you while you ran away but his attention seemed to have moved away from you. You hurried away, holding your breath the entire time. Every time you glanced over your shoulder, the guy remained unmoving.

When you reached your home, you locked the door tightly and slumped against it in exhaustion.

Homicidal Liu

The sunset was beautiful over the graveyard – the only beauty to an otherwise morbid place.

You stared at the purples and oranges dancing across the sky. The wreath pricked at your hands after a while and you stared down at it. Why did you still bother with bringing flowers? Hadn’t it been long enough? Still, you made your way down to the grave and placed them there, not even bothering to read the name on there.

Lately, your graveyard visits had becoming fewer and fewer. Time hadn’t been on your side recently and thus, your precious solitude had to suffer. You relished in the way that nobody really bothered you here.

An orange glow warned you when the streetlights came on. Perhaps you had been there for longer than you thought but this was to be your last visit.

Better to make it count.

Something caught in the wind made you raise your head. A piece of fabric was stuck in the nearby fence, identifiable as a scarf when you ventured closer.

You took it from the fence and looked around for its owner. Nobody was in view… maybe it had been blown off one of the graves? It did seem homemade.

Guessing, you began to place it on a grave when a voice startled you.

“I’m sorry to bother but I think you have my scarf?”

The man was standing far too close for you to have not seen him when you were glancing around but you blamed that on your night vision. He wore dark clothing and seemed awkward just to be speaking to you.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was just going to leave it on one of the graves because I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

He thanked you for it, wrapping it around the lower half of his face almost immediately. “That would be a waste,” he said. “Especially to leave it on this one. Thank you for grabbing it.”

A harsh wind blew through the graveyard, carrying with it the smell of an incoming storm. He grabbed his scarf just in time to prevent it from going flying away again.

“Seems like the weather is determined to steal it from you.”

“Far more powerful things have tried.”

You buried yourself further into your jacket and smiled. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new in town or just coming to visit a new grave?”

“I’m not visiting a grave,” he admitted. “I just thought that this would be the way back to my house… I grew up in this town but only recently moved back and I’m already lost. It’s a little embarrassing if I’m honest.”

“Well, I like to know everybody,” you said. “What’s your name?”

“Su – I mean, Liu,” he said. “Liu. Sorry, I nearly gave you my surname.”

You laughed. “Oh that’s no problem. It’s nice to meet you but I really like your name. Is it Chinese?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked around and began walking away. “I really have to go. Thank you for getting my scarf and all that.”

“I’ll see you around,” you said with a wave.

It was only later when you realised how suspicious that entire interaction was. You had never seen Liu before in your life and he was just hanging around in the graveyard? He hadn’t seemed too creepy at least. Maybe you would see more of him in the coming days.

Jane the Killer

It wasn’t that you were unobservant or inattentive toward girls but nobody had really caught your eye until Jane.

She was stunning in a way that few people could ever match with dark hair that tumbled past her hips and soulful eyes. Her walk was always confident, her smile always perfect, and her attention always desirable. Your main regret about life was that you didn’t speak to her sooner – especially when you thought back on what happened not too long after your first meeting.

You organised with your friends to somehow bump into her but instead, you wound up getting treated for a pretty painful bruised hip. Your second plan didn’t work out either and your third never even left the drawing board.

“Just go up to her and say hi. Tell her that she’s beautiful,” your friend encouraged. “She’ll say thanks and then you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“That’s so boring though,” you said. “It’s not like something out of a romance novel.”

Your friend groaned and stood up. “Well, I’m going home. We have like three months left of high school and I’m not going to spend that time obsessing over how to speak to a girl. She’s literally a regular person.”

They were right and you knew that. No matter how you tried to set up a sweeping romance, it probably wouldn’t work out.

So you tried.

And you tried.

Two weeks later, you were about to give up on mimicking a romance novel and it appeared that your friend was thinking the same thing. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you somewhere, muttering about changing the topic. You had a vague idea of where you were going but you didn’t fight too much.

“What if she’s still dating that Woods boy?” you asked. “The older one.”

“They broke up after literally a month of dating. I don’t blame her – those Woods boys are pretty enough but the older one has something seriously wrong with him. And the younger one is always talking to himself…”

“I really don’t care about the Woods’,” you commented.

“No, you care about Jane who is honestly quite weird as well,” they said. “But that is going to be your problem and not mine.”

They dragged you directly up to her group. It wasn’t large – despite Jane’s beauty, she wasn’t incredibly popular due to her associations. Your friend wasn’t the only one who was a little scared of the Woods boys and Jane had hung out with them for quite a while.

“Hey,” your friend said before even letting you go. “You have no idea who we are but my friend here has a massive crush on you. Could you please just say hi so they can get it out of their system?”

You were sure that it was unhealthy to be as red as you were. It felt like your heart was about to leap from your chest.

Jane laughed, a soft and gentle sound. “I’m not really interested in a relationship,” she hummed. “But thank you. That’s very flattering.”

Somehow, your heart sped up still and you awkwardly rubbed your arm. “No problem?”

“Why don’t you join us for a little bit?” Jane offered. “Just because I don’t want to date anybody doesn’t mean that we can’t become friends. You look like my kind of person.”

You stumbled over your words but somehow, your conversation managed to go extremely well. Jane was brilliant in every possible way and you quickly grew attached to seeing her every day. That was why you mourned so greatly when she died.

Jason the Toymaker

The sun was so warm against your skin. You could stay there forever, stretched out on the grass and basking in the sunlight.

“It’s done,” your friend’s voice broke through your daydreaming

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see exactly what they had been working on for the entire trip. After realising the first few times that you weren’t going to get a reaction, you had decided to wait for them to finish working before you tried to have a conversation.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” you said. “That’s amazing.”

The hyper-realistic man was sketched to perfection with a top hat, a fur coat, and a small mouse sitting on his left shoulder. It felt like his eyes could piece into your soul.

“Who is that?” you asked them.

They stared blankly at the image and shook their head. “I don’t know,” they said. “He’s been in my dreams for so long. I think it has something to do with my amnesia. Maybe I knew him once before.”

“He’s a little intimidating,” you said. “I could imagine him to be a ringleader in a circus that’s like a secret cult. Maybe he’s why you lost your memory.”

“Maybe…” they said, tapping the picture. They suddenly shoved it into your chest and stood up. “You keep that. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I need to go talk to my parents.”

You watched them race out of the park in confusion. The man in the picture stared up at you with haunting eyes.

Folding it in half so it didn’t freak you out, you stood and dusted off your clothing. Maybe it would be best if you headed home. It was getting late either way.

Later on, you’d call your friend and check up on them.

About 10 minutes away from your house, the feeling of being watched snuck up on you. It hung heavily around your shoulders like a cloak. You glanced around but saw nobody.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable leading whoever was following you back to your house. You made a point of walking amongst large crowds and headed for the police station.

They were watching you the whole way.

You sped up. A few people bumped into you and you apologised as best as you could. Your grip on the picture was getting tighter enough for you to tear it. The later it got, the fewer people were on the streets and so you were pretty much alone when you bumped into him.

It took you a few seconds to recognise the man from the drawing.

If you thought his drawn eyes were captivating, they had nothing on his real ones which glowed with an almost ethereal light.

“You’re him,” you breathed.

He stared at you, smile falling from his face in confusion. “Who?”

You shakily held out the drawing and he yanked it from your hands. “My friend drew that,” you explained. “They said that its of somebody from their past. They have amnesia you see.”

He was unmoving as he studied the picture. You began feeling a little uncomfortable and then his gaze snapped to you. “Is that so?” he asked.

You nodded and took a small step away from him. “Maybe you should go and talk to them? See –“ you swallowed nervously. “See if you can help them remember?”

“No need,” he said, dropping the paper on the ground. “Who are you?”

Your name came out as little more than a soft whisper. Something about the entire scenario made you uneasy. His appearance was too unnatural.

A gust of wind came by, picking up the drawing and whipping it away. You watched it go and when you looked back down, his eyes were locked on you.

“Such a pity,” he said. “You would have been the perfect doll.”

Wearily, you took a step backwards. His words made your stomach churn uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled. It was kind and warm but it only made you more nervous. His eyes looked like they had almost changed colour; shifted a shade darker than previously. “Thinking aloud my dear,” he said.

“About dolls?” you asked.

He tilted his head a little towards you. “I’m going to have to bid you goodbye. It seems I have other matters to attend to.” He brushed past you, stopping briefly when directly next to you. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He was gone before you could even spin around to face him.

Jeff the Killer

Pausing the song, you removed your earphones as quietly as possible and placed them down on your desk. According to the blinking numbers on your phone screen, it was nearing 2 AM. Far too late for anybody to make an excess of noise.

You listened closely. The music had been too loud for you to hear anything and you almost brushed the strange noise off as your sleep-deprived imagination. Until something squeaked like shoe soles on tiles.

In retrospect, you should have immediately called 911 but you didn’t want to sound a false alarm.

The light switch was thankfully directly outside your room. The hall illuminated most of the house when they were on and it steeled your nerves. Your roommate’s door was open, allowing you to confirm their sleeping state, curled up in their bed amongst the piles of mess. They had had to move to the spare room due to a faulty window earlier in the day and had clearly given up sorting items.

You glanced into the apartment’s other rooms before heading to the kitchen. There was nothing odd. The scuttling when you entered the kitchen just suggested that your neighbour’s rat infestation may be migrating.

Making a mental note to call the exterminator, you turned to switch off the kitchen light.

Something slammed into you, forcing your back to collide with a wall. A hand covered your mouth and the overwhelming scent of blood and decay invaded your nose. Something cold and sharp pressed against your neck.

“Shut up and stay still,” the man snarled at you. “I don’t think anybody will appreciate you getting blood in the kitchen.”

Your heart leapt into your throat and your body stilled. The man in front of you was terrifying. His skin pale and mutilated. Eyes far too wide for a normal person and dancing with an insanity that sent chills down your spine.

And his mouth… a bloody smile carved across his face, stretching halfway to his ears.

He studied your face carefully and his expression twisted. “You’re not the right one,” he snapped. The knife moved away from your neck, so he could point with it. “I had this all planned and yet when I came into that room, I found it empty. Why?”

Even if he hadn’t been holding your mouth shut, you doubted you would have been able to formulate an answer. The pounding heartbeat in your ears was nearly blocking out his voice.

He lightly tapped your cheek with his knife. “Not that it matters,” he said. “I’ll just have to adapt my original plan. You’re not the right target but I’m a huge fan of collateral damage.”

A small whimper escaped you and tears welled at your eyes. You didn’t want to die.

“Don’t blubber!” he ordered. “View it as a good thing. You’ll be all over the news. Another victim of Jeff the Killer. Hell, you might even be added to a Wikipedia page or something.”

You could recall that name from the news. Often followed by a lengthy list of deaths and the police chief begging for any information about the murderer.

Jeff stared at you for a long minute before he pressed the knife’s blade to your throat and moved his hand away from your mouth. “Scream and I will remove your vocal cords,” he threatened. “Who are you?”

It took several deep breaths and a flicker of impatience in his expression to give you the ability to talk again. You stammered out your full name as quickly as you possibly could.

He rolled his eyes and tilted the knife so it scratched your skin. A sticky and warm substance ran down your throat in small droplets. “Pathetic.”

“Sorry,” you whispered on instinct. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You ruined my earlier plans to take out my original target by interrupting me before I could find them. Why shouldn’t I settle for you instead?”

You didn’t have an answer.

He took the blade away from your throat. “If you call the police and report what happened here tonight, I will slice you into little pieces.”

It was almost twenty minutes after he left before you regained any movement in your body. You slumped into a heap on the kitchen floor and started sobbing.

Kagekao

Things had been going missing around your house.

Initially, you had thought it was just due to you forgetting where you’d plopped things because it was simple things. Drinks that vanished, keys turning up on the opposite side of the house, and random spills that you didn’t remember making.

But then it started getting weirder still.

You would make food and pack it away, knowing that you would eat it later, and find it gone. Picture frames disappeared, never to be seen again. Your rug half-unraveled during the night and you found it in a pile the next morning. A candle in your bathroom fell over and, somehow, the curtains on the other side of the house had caught alight.

It was suspicious, to say the very least. You began to think that you had some kind of intruder – once, the news reported that a woman found a homeless man living in her attic and eating her food when she wasn’t looking.

So you went out and bought cameras, setting them up throughout your house.

For two weeks, they caught nothing until one of them ended up breaking. You went to get it repaired and the company managed to recover what it had last seen. Which was nothing on your first glance.

But you were soon to realise, that was only because you had been looking at the floor.

While you were rewatching when you got home, you noticed something. The window was sitting wide open and the camera’s angle only allowed you to see half of it. Right toward the end of the feed, a gloved hand appeared on the side of the window and a slight shadow indicated something climbing through.

So you got reinforced windows and made sure that none were open unless you were in the room.

Things still continued happening.

You were beginning to get really annoyed by this. It was tempting to go to the police and let them just handle it but that was going to be a lot of effort that you really didn’t care for. You didn’t feel like you were in much danger. Nothing had happened in your bedroom.

Your next plan was to set up a trap of some kind. With a hidden camera set up, you made extra food and left it on the counter to see if something happened.

The next day, you watched as a plastic toy of some kind was thrown directly into the plate from somewhere off-camera, breaking it and leaving an absolute mess everywhere.

Still not considering it to be anything dangerous, you just cleaned up the mess and loudly cursed out anybody who was listening. You stalked the house after that, searching every nook and cranny with a bat in hand. The final place was the closet in your bedroom and you peered in, expecting nothing.

When you turned around though, you spotted something sitting in the corner of the room.

It was humanoid with arms twisted into awkward positions and a mask on its face. Half the mask was black and the other white, both sides bearing an unnaturally smiling expression. The creature cackled when you saw it and scuttled out of the door, stuck to the roof the entire time.

A second passed.

Then another.

You pinched your arm hard and waited to wake up. Surely there was no way… I mean, why would… humans didn’t generally crawl along the ceiling? Well, you were quite sure they never did that. You must have been imagining it.

A second laugh corrected you on that.

You swallowed thickly, walked over to your door as calmly as possible and locked it. Then you took out your phone and finally called the police.

Kate the Chaser

The day when Kate was sent away remained very clear in your mind. It was a moment that brought extremely change to your life, mixing up your friend group and sending you in a different direction.

The years has passed and you had never gotten over your best friend. They said that she had lost her mind and you knew it was true. All those games investigating the woods and ghost hunting must have put a toll on her mind. Sometimes, you blamed yourself for all the pranks and you knew that Lauren had similar doubts.

And now she was back.

Lauren and you hadn’t remained close, the entire situation feeling too real with one another. Your greeting was stilted but neither of you wanted to be the first to approach the house.

“Do you think that she remembers us?” Lauren asked.

“If she didn’t then her mom wouldn’t have invited us over,” you said.

You stood in complete silence, staring up at the house. Would you even recognise Kate? The last time that you had seen her was when you were both young children and her face remained at that age in your memories.

Eventually, you gained your confidence before Lauren and you walked over, knocking on the door before anxiety could find you.

Kate answered the door and you forgot why you had ever been nervous.

Time had slimmed her face and shortened her hair. Her eyes were still a gentle brown and the cockiness had faded from her smile, but it was recognisable from your nostalgia. It made you feel warm and known – an aura that you had missed without even realising it.

“Hi,” you greeted.

Kate pulled you into a tight hug and you returned it, clutching at her tightly as though she could slip through your fingers. It really had been too long and when you moved away, she held onto Lauren with the same enthusiasm.

“How have you been?” she asked. “You have to tell me everything.”

The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon having tea and just talking about the world at large. Kate didn’t have many stories from the hospital – she claimed it was because the place had been extremely boring and neither of you pushed to find out more about it. Honestly, it was more comfortable to act as though she had simply moved away.

Lauren had to leave first and you were going to go with her but Kate had looked so down that you remained just a little longer. That was when things got weird.

“I’ve missed music a lot,” Kate sighed.

“Did they not allow you to listen to music?”

She grimaced. “No, they did but often I couldn’t hear it over the static. Its mostly gone away now but it came back last night… it fills my brain and all that I can think of is a way to make the pain stop.”

The colour drained from your face as you stared at her. You didn’t know much about what happened to her but you had thought she would be okay now.

Realising it, Kate hurried to reassure you, “I really have recovered,” she said. “My hallucinations have faded and my medication keeps my emotions in check. You really don’t have to be scared of me.”

You stared down at your cup awkwardly. “I’m not scared of you,” you reassured her. “You’ve never done anything to me.”

She nodded. “It will be alright, you’ll see. I’m ready to get back to a normal life with my friends and not have to worry about that ghost stuff ever again.”

Laughing Jack

It was on your leg…

The glare you fixed the small child with could wilt plants. It didn’t care though and merely clutched at your clothing with a happy smile. “Come play with me?” it asked. “I can introduce you to all my friends!”

“How old is she again?” you grumbled at your friend.

Your friend laughed and ruffled their cousin’s hair. “I had an imaginary friend when I was 10. She’s only 6, she’s still at the stage where they’re a big deal.”

The child was oblivious to your conversation and reached out her arms. “Come on. The parents are being boring. I have candy that my friend gave me. We can share it.”

“I agreed to come along to your family get together to keep you company,” you said to your friend. “You know I don’t like children. Babysitting really isn’t my forte.”

All you received for your complaining was laughter.

By the time you had the 4th teddy bear had been introduced, you were done. Why did one kid have so many toys?

“Now which one of your friends gives you candy?” your friend asked. “Because if it’s from Princess, I don’t think it’s edible. What if she secretly puts glitter in it?”

Expected to play along, you sighed. “Unless it’s glitter from rainbows because then it’s got magic powers and allows you to fly.”

The child liked your thumb-sucked statement because she jumped up in excitement. “I don’t get it from Princess. Jack gives it to me! But if Princess can make me fly, I want to have that kind of candy instead!”

“Which one’s Jack again?” you asked, eyeing the line of toys.

“He’s not here right now,” the child said, biting her inner cheek. She turned in a circle. “Sometimes he hides in the cupboard though!” She ran over to her cupboard and pulled the doors open. “I don’t think – OW!”

She reeled backwards, clutching her cheek. Both you and your friend immediately jumped up and ran over to her. A tiny slice mark ran across the side of her face. It wasn’t anything serious, but she was sobbing as though it would kill her. You presumed a small edge on one of the boxes in the cupboard had been the cause.

“Do you want me to take you to mom, so she can kiss it better?” your friend asked. “Your new best friend can wait here and make sure all your toys are safe.”

The child nodded, and she got led out of the room. You rolled your eyes at the sensitivity and reached into the cupboard to push the box out of the way. A clawed hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed your wrist tightly.

Before you could even shout, it lifted you off the ground by your arm and a second hand had wrapped around your mouth.

The monster’s body appeared out of the closet.

It was a clown. Easily 7ft tall and comprised of monochrome colours with a sharp, pointed nose and long, greasy hair. Its black lips spread into a smile, revealing pointed teeth and a sickeningly sweet breath.

You writhed against its grip, trying to scream or do anything but it was insanely strong, and it just laughed at your efforts.

“How mean,” it purred, leaning in close to your face. “You ask who I am and then, when I appear to you, you insult my appearance. Awful etiquette. Your parents should be concerned about how rude you are to strangers.”

You strained your memory to think about what you had been doing before it grabbed you but the adrenaline was clouding your mind. What had you asked? You struggled more with the lack of memories.

The clown shook its head. “I haven’t revealed myself to somebody so old in a long time. You should be flattered but instead you choose to try and kick me. This is why I don’t do this. Children are far more polite.”

He released you suddenly and you landed hard on the ground. It winked and disappeared, right as your friend and her cousin returned.

“You met Jack!” the child shouted excitedly, pointing to the candy lying next to you.

You shoved it away from you as quickly as possible.

#creepypasta #scenarios #hoodie x reader #marble hornets #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #jane the killer #jason the toymaker #kagekao #x reader #jeff the killer x reader #laughing jack #kate the chaser

[katsukikitten]

Warnings: Stripper AU, dub con, 18+ N!SFW, Ayo it's gonna be lit okay?  @bakugotrashpanda thank you for always beta reading and encouraging me to write 😂

The girls around you giggle as you finally arrive to whatever hell hole dive bar they planned to take you to for your 25th birthday. They wouldn't tell you where you were going or what the general theme was going to be. The only thing they gave you was your outfit on your bed and a strong promise of getting SHIT FACED. Which you so desperately needed, especially after the shitty birthday you had today. 

And since you didn't know exactly where you were going you felt...a bit uneasy. Especially so when they blind folded you as soon as you got in the car but only AFTER placing you in a guady sash that read "Birthday Bitch" and a tiara that screamed princess. Still these were your close friends you were talking about. Women you've known since highschool. 

But Jhiro, Asui, Uraraka, and especially Mina had been far more adventurous than yourself, so you were totally unsure of what to expect. Your only hope was that it wasn't a strip club. 

They guide you through the boisterous club filled with whistle calls and screams for more shots or drinks. The music competes with the unsteady beat of your heart causing it to race in an attempt to keep pace with the high BPM of the song. It smells of sweat, liquor, and expensive perfumes and colognes, you were beginning to wonder just where the hell they were taking you. 

"M...Mina when can I take off the blind fold." You ask, words slightly slurred from the pre gaming the five of you did as yall got ready. Her only response is her bubblegum pink lips curling upwards as she giggles. The sound of the music begins to fade as you seemingly stumble further into the building, you hear a door open before it is shut, sealing away the outside music. 

Mina and Jhiro as gingerly as they can guide you into a plush armchair, keeping the blind fold on. 

"Yall, am I where I think I am?" A bit of your temper shows through in your tone of voice as you feel up the luxurious fabric of the chair, the soft ambient light that you can see through the bottom of your blind fold and the godly smell of caramel, spice mixed with clean, almost mountainous air. 

"Hold out your hands!" Mina squeals, Jhiro helps you hold them together. A large stack of paper is set into your palms setting your mouth into a harsh line. You pull the blind fold from your eyes to be met with a delectable nightmare. 

Two sizable men laze atop rugs, pillows and cozy furs making them seem more exotic than what they are. One with ash blonde hair pushed back by rushed fingers, looking put together and yet wild, with the sides faded. The other's hair long, almost unruly as it trailed down his back, a red hue so deep you first mistake it for black. 

But what really grabbed your attention was their eyes. 

Harsh deep garnet and dazzling ruby red gaze at you. One dissects you leaving you feeling vulnerable, raw, as if by one glance he could see through your bones to your soul and all the things that made you tic. While the other set felt softer, pretty boy brooding yet inviting, adding balance to the intensity that his ash blonde counterpart had. 

A shiver collectively runs down the female's spines. 

Suddenly you feel a bit self conscious and stupid in your barely there body con black dress. You pull at your hem with futile haste, their eyes linger on your powerful thighs.

"Welcome ladies to the private show of the Deadly Duo." A sharp toothed smile pairs nicely with the introduction. 

Deadly Duo indeed.

"I'm Red Riot and this is Ground Zero. The men by the door are Chargebolt and Cellophane, they will bring you whatever food or drink you so desire." You follow his sultry voice to the two men by the door. An electric blonde stands tall and flirty in his crop top and tight black jeans while a raven haired man stands on the other side shirtless, leaving the print in his grey sweatpants to do the talking for him. They both wink in yalls direction. Your focus falls back to the men before you, finally you notice what they are wearing. Their broad chests are bare, glistening from either glitter or their own sweat from an earlier escapade. Their theme seems to be a set of sorts Ground Zero wears a silky black fabric around his waist that does not shy away from a certain outline, his ash blonde hair is adorned with a black grotesque crown. It was made of sharp things, shattered glass, razor blades and two old switchblade knives giving it the illusion of horns. Paired nicely with pitch black wings, glistening as if silver stars were sprinkled on the feathers. 

While Red Riot wore white fabric wrapped around his defined abs. His head piece was golden, circling behind his head as if they "rays" of light, making him look much more like a rare subject  of a renaissance painting. His pair of wings were white glistening in gold. 

Their wings flutter, one seemingly agitated the other curious. Although you knew they were a prop, you would have sworn they were real. 

The lights turn low, leaving only their eyes and crowns to glow. 

"Are you sluts ready?" Ground Zero's voice is dangerous and low. Causing your gut and thighs to clench. Unknowingly you nod causing his wolfish grin to grow.

This was going to be more than the tacky fireman and cop duo Mina dragged everyone to for her own birthday. They were less like pieces of meat and more like Gods. 

A God seducing a mere mortal such as yourself. 

You gulp, all of you mesmerized by the movements of their hips, the sway of their bodies and fluttering of their fake wings. King of Hell and Heaven pulling you in making it hard to keep focus on anything but them. 

"We don't dance for free." Ground Zero's voice comes out as a harsh bite. Bringing the five of you back to planet Earth. 

"Birthday girl, the money!" Mina stage whispers a bit behind you. You stare down at the stack 2,000 and 5,000 yen bills. You nervously take a few and let them float to the floor. The girls behind you hollar for more as they toss their own money towards the men. 

"Heh she's already flustered." Bakugou whispers to Kirishima as he comes behind his friend, hand snaking up Kirishima's abs, nails leaving red marks along his skin.

"It's cute." The red head whispers as he throws his head back in mock pleasure. 

"Well cute doesn't cut it. Let's step this shit up a notch." The blond snarls, grabbing onto Kirishima's throat, giving it a squeeze. 

Kirishima allows a genuine groan to leave his lips while you let out a small whimper. 

"Are we gonna do the thing if they tip enough?" Kirishima's whisper is breathy as Bakugou makes him sway in beat with his own hips. The hot head's only reply is a deadly grin. He takes his large palm and places it on the back of Kirishima's nape before harshly shoving him to his knees before he places a black gladiator shoe onto the small of the red head's back. 

"Collect our money from the birthday bitch." Kirishima fights to keep the smile off of his face, knowing full well Bakugou intends to milk these women dry. 

You're frozen in place as doe like rubies gaze up at you. He crawls towards you slowly, his face slightly pained or maybe it is twisted with pleasure. It makes you think horrible, rancid thoughts.

Is that what he would look like on top of you? 

He ignores the bills, as if he is in a trance, keeping his eyes locked to yours. He stops at your feet before he can do anything else you offer him a 5,000 bill with shaking hands, he takes it gently and sets it aside. Instead he gets up onto his knees, hands hesitantly hovering over your ankle and calf. 

"Permission to touch Princess?" He looks up at you through long dark lashes. The light plays tricks on you as your mouth grows dry, you truly were staring down at an angel. 

"P...permission granted." A wicked smile plays on his lips and for a moment you think you've been fooled. His hands are calloused and yet far from rough, one hand holds firm onto your ankle while the other follows the natural curve of your calf all the way to just above the back or your knee. Long, strong fingers inches from the hem of your dress. 

"Mina this is good shit!" Jhiro whispers to her friend who giggles in response. Almost breaking the spell. They throw more money but earn the blondes agitation. Yes, most of the time it was about the money, but in some rare moments it was about the looks on people's faces. To have them so enthralled by their own fantasies that they forgot who they really were. 

He could see you were dipping into that space quickly, Kirishima is about to seal the deal. 

Trailing slow kisses up your smooth legs, sharp teeth glinting in the golden and red ambient lighting. 

Depending on your reaction to what Kirishima is about to do determines Bakugou's next few moves. 

Kirishima's doe creature mask breaks for a fraction of a second and the wicked smile happens again, his mouth just above your knee as he opens wide, letting his teeth sink into your thick thigh. 

The whimper that leaves your lips, the fluttering of your half mast eyes and the shape of your mouth send Bakugou into that rare state. 

He gives a harsh head tilt to the men at the door before glaring at the extra women in the room. 

"Are you ladies feeling neglected?" Chargebolt asks, lips a breath away from Jhiro's ear, her ear jacks twist on their own as her face flushes. Meanwhile Cellophane is purring in Mina's ear. 

"How rude of them to ignore such beauty. Let's get the four of you a private showing." 

"A..ah okay." They agree, getting up to squeeze your arms and drop off more cash onto your lap. 

"Don't get too wrapped up!" Mina teases before exiting with the rest of the crew. Leaving it to just the three of you.  

As soon as the door shuts, Bakugou falls to his knees, crawling slowly. Much slower than Red Riot, agonizingly so, his hard set eyes locked with yours even as Red still holds your leg captive. You push back into the plush chair in exhilarating fear, chest rises and falling in shallow and quick movements unable to break his molten hot gaze. His movements are methodical, quiet and not even his wings twitch as he makes his way, as if he does not want to make a sound. Like a panther hiding in the shadows, stalking its prey. 

The light play tricks as the muscles of his back and broad shoulders seem to be highlighted. These men were strong, more fit than you've ever seen and yet, yet your eyes were glued to theirs. 

Especially the ashe blonde's. Finally he reaches your feet, hands hovering over your left leg and before he can ask you're nodding frantically. He sucks his teeth, locking over your soft skin before grabbing onto you with a bruising grip, eyes holding yours once more. 

"I wasn't going to fucking ask." He yanks your leg towards him, away from the other. You frantically try to push your dress down to cover your lacy, barely there thong that Mina convinced you to wear. A steely grip is at your wrist. 

"Ah, ah ah, it's only fair, Princess." Bakugou teases before letting his hands trail up your leg, causing you to tense and yet ease into his touch at the same time. He trails biting kisses up your leg and lets his fingers actually touch the skin beneath your hem. 

You yelp, hand hesitantly hovering over his washed out golden strands. You were unsure of the rules, of if you were allowed to touch them. 

A soothing hand pats your knee. 

"Don't worry, he isn't as much of a brute he seems to be. Plus." His ruby eyes gesture towards the corners of the room, "Cameras are always watching." 

You give a slow nod, as Ground Zero comes up from his bite above your knee, black blooms on your skin before he presses a chaste kiss atop the purplish flower. He shoots Kirishima a glare, it was going to be hard to get you back into the fantasy. 

Another shaking bill is offered causing Bakugou to sigh. He grabs the stack from your lap and sets it aside. 

"Let's forget that for now, okay?" Kirishima beams and you nod slowly. 

Bakugou gets an idea, knowing Kirishima will adapt quickly to Bakugou's intent. Zero shoves Red to the side, placing himself between your legs, climbing slowly up your body as if you were his lover. 

He pants heavily as he does and you feel something as he grinds onto you. You cannot tell if it is an actually hard on or a semi, either way you're flustered and unbelievable aroused as this man, no this God among men stares into your very fucking soul. He stands, placing his hands on both sides of the armchair, leaning in close as you back away, cornering you like the prey you are. 

His breath fans your ear, he wants to give it a bite, sink his teeth deep into your semi exposed neck as your smell pulls him in a little too far into the fantasy. He comes closer and his heat is almost unbearable. 

"Do...do you do this for every show?" You squeak out, buzzing from excitement and primal fear. His eyes narrow as if he is lost in thought before the question finally registers in his mind. That deadly smirk returns, lips brushing your ear as he speaks, his rough hand grabbing onto the sash. The sound of tearing fabric fills the room for a moment. You squeeze your eyes shut. 

"This is all for you, kitten." Suddenly the warmth is ripped away from you as massive arms wrap around Zero's middle. 

"Don't forget about me, Princess." He drops Bakugou roughly on the ground before he falls to his knees. Worshiping you as if you were the star of the show. 

Kisses trail up your legs, stopping on your inner thigh just before your hem. This time a whine leaves your lips, as two sets of red eyes gage your reaction. He continues his work, crawling up between your legs until you could easily wrap them around his torso, he motions you closer with a single finger and you follow, he knocks away the ugly tiara and places a black and golden flower crown atop your head. He lets his fingernails scratch gently along your scalp as he moves away. Before holding you by the nape of the neck. Keeping you nose to nose with him.  

"That is more fitting for you my Princess." Kirishima gives you a lazy cat smile. Before a cocky laugh sounds behind you causing your core to flutter. 

"Your Princess?" He fists Kirishima's hair forcing him to let go of you before Bakugou yanks him back, holding intense eye contact with his counterpart, "More like my slut." 

"F..fuck." You groan before Bakugou leans down to Kirishima, he's close. So close their noses brush before Bakugou tilts Kirishima's head kissing him with a passion unseen and unmatched. Kirishima groans, giving Bakugou access to his mouth and you can do nothing but stare as you watch a struggle for power between two wet muscles, you barely notice Bakugou's broad other hand snake to Kirishima's throat giving it a good squeeze. 

You're salivating, cunt clenching before a moan escapes your mouth. Bakugou pulls away and a lewd string of saliva connect the two before it breaks off. For a moment Kirishima looks as starstruck as you, his cheeks are so red, eyes lost as they stare endlessly into the man who is just a smidge shorter and smaller than him but God damn if he doesn't hold Kirishima's heart and yours in the palm of his sharply manicured hands. Bakugou speaks without his eyes leaving Kirishima's making sure he doesn't fall too deep into subspace. 

"Tch. Sounds like you like what you see huh slut?" You whine again at his crude words. You watch his hand so softly sweep away hair from his counterpart's face smiling down at him cruelly. 

"Oi, you still on cloud nine there? Or are you present enough to have a bit of a competition?" Kirishima's eyes come to life at the thought of a friendly fight. He gives him a sharp toothed smile, letting his hand trail up Bakugou's abs stopping over his slow beating heart. Kirishima can never understand how he keeps such a level head over so much heated contact, how he never slips up and gets a little too caught up. Or maybe the look in Bakugou's eyes say that he is. The hot head grabs his jaw line roughly, turning him towards you and looking at you at the same time.

"Alright let's see if you're my slut or his Princess." 

"O...okay." You whisper pulling another deadly laugh from the horned devil. His wings unfurl a bit, making him seem bigger before his weighted gaze settles on your skin.  He let's go of Red, trapping you in the chair again, leaning as close as he did to the red head. Nose grazing yours. 

"You don't even know what you've blindingly agreed too. Are you that desperate or just stupid?" His voice drawfs the rushing blood in your ears. His hand tentatively hovers over your throat, reading your gaze before he takes an extra step. Cutting off a bit of the blood flow to your brain, gasping for delighted breath you stare him down. Heart hammering in your chest as you felt like a small lamb ensured in the sharp teeth of a wolf. 

"Answer me." A nasty bite, dark eyes clouded with his own dom space but still attentive enough to watch for queues. 

Although you are more than willing, he is playing a dangerous game. He doesn't know your kinks, worse yet your safe word. This session had turned more into a scene than anything else. Even though the three of you are not having sex he needs to he sure of your limits. 

Or a least a good dominant should. Still you answer and still he is a damn good guesser. 

"I..I'm desperate." Bakugou's smile sends a rush of heat to your sex and an endless amount of endorphins to your brain. You feel a bit high, head light from lack of air. He turns your face slightly away from him, pressing his cheek to yours as he breaks the spell for just a moment, easing his grip on your throat. 

"You say black when you want us to stop. Got it." It takes you a moment to process what he's saying before you frantically nod yes, "You gotta say it around baby girl." 

God you melt, melt and die right there in the chair. His voice feather soft in this moment making you want more, more, more as if he really were the demon king brought here to corrupt you. 

"Yes, King." It's a whisper but it's enough to make Bakugou's dick twitch. 

Fuck what a good name and one he hadn't heard before. He presses a soft kiss to your hairline before using his soft voice for a final time. 

"That's my good kitten." It's a soft growl and somehow you melt even more. He trails kisses along your jawline, giving you a moment to say yes or no before he kisses down your throat, pushing away the fabric of your dress to expose your shoulder. You moan as his breath tickles the perked skin, waiting impatiently for that anticipated kiss. Although it never comes. Instead he settles for sinking his teeth into your shoulder instead of your throat. Pulling and gnashing his teeth leaving a bruise as dark as your dress. Teeth outlined the black blossom. He drags his tongue along your throat before his replaces it with your hand. Pulling you into a bruising kiss that has you seeing fireworks, earning a moan. He slips his tongue in and you do not even attempt to fight, only attempt to keep up. He squeezes your throat tighter and you're floating. Clinging onto Bakugou with dying strength, nails biting into his biceps. 

Too soon he pulls away, a hazed look in his eyes surely matching your own. His cheeks slightly flushed as the two of you pant. He gives a cocky grin as if he already knows that he's won. He steps back a bit, hitting Kirishima on the shoulder before whispering in his ear. 

"Black means stop got it?" Kirishima holds contact with him and nods before coming close to you. 

Unlike his counterpart Kirishima uses more of his hands, letting them trail on your legs, your arms, nails raking against your scalp. Pulling at your hair. It is hypnotic in the same sense that Bakugou was. You sigh deeply, happily as you look into a deep set of ruby red eyes. He takes his side of you, the right side, especially since Bakugou already claimed your left. Gently he allows one hand to rest on your hip. He gives you a moment and when nothing comes out of your mouth he squeezes. Kissing slow, soft kisses on your jawline, throat. Lips pressing on the crook of your neck before he too removes the fabric exposing your other shoulder. He does not breathe hotly over his meal, he dives right in.  Pointed teeth sinking in as you groan from the pleasure.  He almost draws blood. He does not suck, no he only bites. All teeth marks set deep in blackish blue when he pulls away. He checks on you again before he methodically he leans in, grabbing your chin to tilt you to him, kissing you so softly, lips moving at a snail's pace before they begin to quicken. Faster and faster until those teeth are pulling at your bottom lip, tongue finding its way in as you sigh into the kiss. 

Just as before the kiss ends too soon and you cry out in mock rage but true agitation. 

God you just wanted them. Kirishima makes room for Bakugou to push his way into the small space before you. Each trapping you from their respective side. 

"So…" Kirishima pants, Bakugou finishes for him. 

"Who wins? Who owns your dirty mouth?" Their voices low and breath mingling with yours as they stare into your face. 

"Can..can you please show me my options again." 

#bakugou x reader #Kirishima x reader #dubcon #bnha x reader #bnha au #spicy fic #bnha fan fic #bnha one shot #bnha smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - A Corpse, Cake, and a Cuppa (Rated NC17)

Summary: Aziraphale is Death and Crowley is the serial killer who keeps murdering to catch a glimpse of the ethereal being he fell in love with. (1714 words)

Notes: Written for the above Halloween prompt from @new-endings/M.A.D.#8943. Human Crowley au. It’s kind of gory, I’m not going to lie.

Read on AO3.

“Jesus Christmas!" Aziraphale yelps, tiptoeing through the thick pool of red coagulating on the concrete. Threads of it cling to the soles of his shoes when he lifts his feet as if trying to drag him down. Aziraphale has seen a great deal of blood in his time. None of it has been pretty. But this is especially gruesome.

He wonders if that’s for his benefit.

"Look at... look at this! Look at all the… !” Aziraphale takes a pause and breathes in deep, pressing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to his forehead. Tension causes a vein to distend and throb - quite the feat since, as a non-human entity, he shouldn't be able to experience this kind of pain. Or so he thought. In the thousands of years he's roamed earth reaping souls, he's finally found the one mortal who can give him what humans call a migraine. And he doesn't like it. Not one bit. “Could you please just… stop already?"

Crowley grins, thrilled giddy by the arrival of his intended audience. “No,” he replies, shoving the slicked head of his filthy ax deeper into the severed spine of the fresh corpse at his feet.

Aziraphale grimaces as the blade lands with a resounding slap. 

That ax of Crowley's gets on every one of Aziraphale's nerves. It's effective for its purpose but positively unsanitary. It makes his skin crawl every time he sees it.

Crowley lifts it slowly, eyes Aziraphale menacingly.

Eyes his nice, clean coat, Aziraphale realizes.

“Crowley!” he warns, putting both hands up in defense. “Don't you dare... !”

But Crowley doesn't let him finish, hoisting his ax higher with part of the dead man's torso attached. He doesn't need to do anything after that. The torso falls from the blade and splashes down in the pool, accomplishing what Crowley set out to do.

“Holy... GAH!” Aziraphale leaps back to avoid the spray. He frowns at his clothes when he sees he wasn't quick enough. "Look what you've done! You’ve made a mess of my coat!”

“Improved it, I’d say,” Crowley snarks. “Given it a pop of color.”

“I've had this coat for ages and hadn't collected a single stain! Not one! And look at your shoes! Ruined!" He gazes down at Crowley's feet in despair. "I actually liked that pair.”

“Really?" Crowley tilts his head, batting his eyes innocently. "You didn't tell me that.”

“Yes, well... " Aziraphale busies himself fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. Praying he’s swift enough to save the fabric, he pats at the specks on his sleeve "... it’s not my place to tell a homicidal maniac that he looks fetching in snakeskin, is it?”

Crowley pouts, his lower lip jutting out, making him look comically childish despite the streaks of blood running down his cheeks. 

Aziraphale’s brows pull together. He glances around, trying to work out what's wrong. "What? What is it?"

"You're being mean."

"How am I being mean?"

"You're calling me names."

"Accurate ones, yes."

"You sound disappointed."

"You think so!?"

“B-but... but why? I took your advice!" Crowley argues. "I changed me m.o.!”

“I didn’t give you advice! I said you should stop killing innocent people!”

“I did! This guy?" Crowley plants the heel of his sopping shoe into the dead man's crooked neck for emphasis. "He weren’t innocent! He was a serial killer, too! He just happened to be shite at it!”

"I can see that." Aziraphale peers into the vacant eyes of the man on the ground, spirit buzzing beneath his skin, waiting to be reaped. But Aziraphale is in no rush. In the choice between filling out paperwork and shooting the shite with Crowley, surprisingly, he chooses Crowley. 

Or maybe not so surprising, Aziraphale muses, biting his lower lip and indulging in a private chuckle. He rolls his eyes in disgust at himself right after. What are you doing? Stop that!

"Besides, I'm doin' you a solid!" 

Aziraphale scoffs, snapping back to his senses. "How do you figure?"

"You're Death, ain't ya? I'm keeping you in business!"

"I don't know if you've read the papers lately, dear boy, but humans are dropping like flies thanks to their own stubbornness and stupidity. You're slap in the middle of one of the worst pandemics in history, but instead of doing what you can to stay safe, you lot spend your time arguing over petty b.s.! I won't wear a mask! It's against my rights! I'm not taking the vaccine! It'll make me sterile! There is no disease! It's all a big conspiracy! Meanwhile, in the states, some orange lunatic has everyone drinking bleach! Believe me, I hardly need your help doing my job!" 

“Oi! Don’t lump me in with those prats!”

“Why not? You’re not wearing a mask, I see.”

“Don’t have to. I got my shot. And I keep me distance.”

“But you’re covered in blood! Did that man you dismembered have the virus!? You don’t know!” Aziraphale cringes at words that sound far more like concern than scolding. Which he should be doing. Scolding and ridiculing, and possibly calling the police.

But he won’t.

If Crowley were thrown in prison, it would be harder for Aziraphale to find an excuse to see him. Aziraphale has yet to decide if that’s something he wants, but either way, he’d prefer it not be at the expense of another life.

"Fine. Whatever. If that's the way you feel about it... " Crowley grumbles, letting what remains of that statement die as embarrassment rises to his cheeks, settling beneath the red already there. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away. 

Just like a child, Aziraphale thinks. 

And as with a child, Aziraphale should have nipped this in the bud much, much earlier - like when Crowley realized that he could summon Aziraphale whenever he wanted by upping the frequency of his murderous antics. 

This, to date, is his twenty-seventh kill.

Aziraphale doesn't know how Crowley spotted him. He's pretty adept at avoiding human detection. But after victim number eight, Aziraphale turned around, scythe in hand, and there he stood: tall, gangly, bizarrely besotted, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. Aziraphale thought Crowley was a run-of-the-mill psychopath looking for attention, seeing Aziraphale as a hapless dolt to play cat-and-mouse with, not knowing for one second who he was dealing with.

Not only did Crowley know exactly who Aziraphale was, but he had taken a considerable shine to him.

Aziraphale humored the man when their paths crossed so he could get on with his work, never for one minute considering the consequences. Thinking back on their past interactions, Aziraphale can pick out the hints Crowley had been dropping.

Aziraphale played right into them, and he could kick himself over it.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Aziraphale quipped dryly after Crowley had beheaded some poor, down-on-his-luck fool. "I'm going to start thinking that you have a thing for me."

"Finally!" Crowley tossed his arms in the air. "At this rate, I was going to have to murder half of London and spell out the words ’Will you go out with me?’ with their bodies. Do you know how time-consuming that would have been?"

Aziraphale had written that comment off as a morbid attempt at humor. 

Now he feels like an imbecile.

He’s going to get an earful from Gabriel if he ever gets wind of this. Aziraphale has been able to cover up the increase in London deaths by blaming the pandemic. But once people get their acts together and things calm down, he’ll have to come clean.

There’s a serial killer roaming the streets that has a serious crush on him.

Aziraphale lets out a heavy sigh as he comes to a decision.

A bad decision.

He's going to regret this. He knows he's going to regret this. 

But will he really though?

Aziraphale looks Crowley over, still moping with his nose in the air. He examines him at depth - his sharp features, his debonair style (hiding beneath a litre of blood), his devil-may-care attitude, his rowdy sense of humor. If he were another angel, or even a demon, Aziraphale would have asked him out already, body count or no. 

So what is he waiting for?

It’s not entirely unheard of, an angel dating outside their dominion. And as for the moral issues of dating a murderer, well, Aziraphale is an angel. He has a responsibility to bring sinners to the light, help them see the truth. That can be done anywhere, not just in church - on a street corner, in a diner…

Back at his flat.

Besides, he and Crowley have a lot more in common than Aziraphale did with his last paramour, an angel he had dallied with solely for the fact that he was guardian of comestibles.

It seemed like a match made in Heaven, so to speak.

Far from it.

“Look - if I let you take me out for coffee, will you stop the gratuitous bloodshed?”

Crowley all but gasps when that question leaves Aziraphale’s mouth, the grin growing on his face transforming, becoming less maniacal and more… normal if that makes any sense. "One cup of coffee. That's all I ask."

"Then come along. Here… “ Aziraphale snaps his fingers, cleaning Crowley thoroughly before he takes his arm. “If you're good, I'll let you buy me a slice of cake.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m a very slow eater. And I figure the longer I stay with you, the more I can keep an eye on you."

“Deal. But, you know," Crowley starts, his tone so filled with teasing he’s on the verge of giggles, "if you, say, spent the night at my flat, you could keep an eye on me for hours. Think of all the people I wouldn’t be able to kill.”

Aziraphale smirks, amused that they both had a semblance of the same idea. “You don’t say?”

“I do.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“More so than you bartering human lives against a cuppa and cake?”

Aziraphale shrugs, but he doesn't relinquish Crowley's arm. He does, however, relieve him of his ax so he doesn’t get any ideas along the way. “Fair point.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[katsukisbimbo]

DDAENG

✯ pairing: hawks x reader

✯ genre: FLUFFYYDS!!

✯ summary: fan! hawks meeting his newly debuted idol crush y/n at a fansign!

✯wordcount: 2.1k+

✯warning: just swearing and hawks being thirsty <3

✯ note: this literallt came to me because i was trying to turn @hoodtoshi into a bts stan (lowkey succeeded) and i was jus like yea, thirsty hawks

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥

- you were nervous

- this was your first fan meet after all,, but you were still nervous

- you were only 19 and had already debuted!!

- that didn’t happen to just anyone!!

- you worked super hard to get to where you are today!! everyone knew that!!

- you sighed as your make-up artist continued to paint your lips a dark red colour

- you honestly didn’t look like yourself, but this was to keep up the whole idol image i guess

- “jinhee, how many people are outside? i’m sure only two people came to see me..” you pouted, resulting in your make-up artist to smack your cheek lightly

- “dOn’t say that you dummy! i’m sure a lot of people came to see you!” she scolded, wiping off the excess makeup on a towel

- “now get out, you’re done”

- “i don’t wanna”

- she raised a newspaper and flexed, ready to beat the fuck out of you if she heard another whisper of self-deprecation from you

- “fine! i’m going!” you grumbled, pouting at oncoming soreness of your feet from your heels

- why did idols have to wear heels anyway?

- okay no, you knew why, but sTill!! they sucked!

- you smiled as you saw the buffet table

- one little snack wouldn’t hurt

- >:)

- “keigo stop fuckign puSHING”

- “im so EXCITED!! i’m meeting THE y/n you SLUTBAG!!” keigo yelled as he shook his companion

- dabi sometimes questioned why he was still friends with keigo

- “i SEE that you asshole”

- keigo took this opportunity to punch dabi in the arm, causing dabi to retaliate, causing kEigo to retaliate, causing dAb-

- okay so

- “i’ve been in love with her ever since she debuted!! and she debuted ALONE!! a whole solo artist!! the talent!! the beauty!! i’m in love!!”

- dabi raised a brow at his friend

- “didn’t you tweet about wanting to ‘put a baby inside of her’?”

- keigo felt his cheeks heat up at the possibility of you seeing his indecent tweets about you

- what if you had seen? what if you think he’s a creep? what if you already hated him??

- keigo felt his anxiety creep onto his shoulders as he continued to overthink, not realizing that they were already next to go in

- ruh roh raggy

- keigo didn’t know anything BUT anxiety

- rip keigo we’ll miss you big daddy :,(

- “please come in, please don’t shout”

- whO was shouting?? nobody was shouting

- keigo wasn’t gonna shout

- as keigo was about to shout, he felt himself be silenced by his partner

- all keigo could feel was betrayal

- “calm down you hot dog, you’re going to TALK to her in person jfc. you can tell her how much you want to father her children then”

- it was almost time and you were STILL at the food table

- you saw a small intern approach you with an uneasy look on her face

- she was for sure about to reprimand you

- “m-ms. y/n,, we have to go now!” she stuttered

- she was sO! cute you just couldn’t say no

- so you decided to just sneak a few bags of chips under your skirt before smiling and quickly following her

- you made your way to the stage, peeking behind the curtains

- you saw a huge crowd of people, mostly males, but one man who sat near the front caught your eye

- he had bright yellow eyes with matching blond hair, even wearing some eyeliner

- the unknown male looked absolutely delectable

- he made you bark a little tbh

- you took a deep breath before you were pushed by your manager on the stage, cheers suddenly reaching your ears as your fans confessed their love for you

- quit shamelessly might you add

- you blushed as you watched the cute blond-haired man cup his hands around his mouth and yell—

- “I LOVE YOU Y/N! IM YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN!” he yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the room

- soon everyone started to yell that they were your biggest fan and that the blond man could never even compare

- but the man had nothing but a satisfied smirk plastered on his handsome face

- did he enjoy starting riots?

- you sat on the chair, placing your hands on top of the table

- this was a small table ngl

- luckily there was a sheet on the table, hiding your nervously bouncing legs

- just imagine watching a fancam of you bouncing your leg

- people would still thirst for that

- anyway

- “thank you guys for coming! i’m so excited to meet you all!” you started, smiling at the large number of people

- “you guys can ask me questions or some things? i don’t know?” you laughed, feeling slightly awkward

- you didn’t know how to be a person

- “can you do a dance for us!!” a young boy, about the age of 7 yelled, jumping up and down in front of his seat

- “what dance?” you queried, raising your brow in curiosity

- “move by taemin!!” he cheered, immediately dancing

- you laughed at his adorable actions

- you were totally gonna dance for him!

- you got up as the music started to play in the background, moving to the side of the table and sensually moving to the beat while the audience watched intently

- you carefully moved your hips, hitting all the right beats

- this wasn’t any different than dancing in front of the camera people, plus you had to get used to an audience

- it also wasn’t any different from how you had to dance to kpop songs from when you were younger for your family!!

- (no, literally. the amount of times i had to dance to 2NE1’s i am the best, girls generation’s gee, and wonder girls’ nobody. the dances are engraved in my head. 6 year old giri had to dance or else)

- as the song faded out, you held your pose before bowing, smiling at the little boy who continued to hype you up

- “holy fuck.. dabi that was hot” hawks whispered, tightening his grip around his friends sleeve

- “jeez kei, ease up a bit” dabi complained, prying his friends hand off of him

- “oh my god she’s such a great dancer, do you think she’ll like me if i learn how to dance too?” he questioned, grabbing his friend by the front of his shirt, pissing dabi off once more

- “no. not if you don’t stop being a fuckinf weirdo”

- hawks pouted

- dabi grinned

- how cruel

- “does anyone else have a request?”

- “WAP!!” a number of people yelled, resulting in your face heating up

- how would they suggest such a lewd dance!

- especially when there were children here!

- “haha! that doesn’t seem very appropriate!” you laughed it off, trying your best to mask your uncomfortableness

- hopefully this would end soon

- “no! can you dance to gashina please!” a girl yelled, catching your attention

- hm, gashina was actually a very good suggestion

- you could do this! you could be as great as sunmi!

- okay maybe no. sunmi was a god <3

- you did the routine, catching the eyes and the hearts of the audience

- “fuck i think i’m in love dabi” hawks whined, clutching his chest

- he had a lovesick expression plastered on his face

- he was totally whipped for you, no doubt about it

- before you knew it, it was time for the fans to have a minute to speak to you and for them to get their albums signed!

- you had recently debuted with your album, dawn in tokyo

- you had taken inspiration from the time where you had left your hotel at dawn and walked around the streets of tokyo, sitting near a bridge and writing lyrics for some of the songs in the album

- hence the name of the album

- most of your album was written in japan

- hawks felt himself get more excited as he came closer to you, holding tightly to the fabric of his friends jacket, which wouldn’t surely gotten him slapped if you weren’t so near

- before he knew it, he was already next in line, dabi already sitting in front of your figure while holding your soft, delicate looking hand in his large ugly ones

- this made hawks’ chest bubble with jealousy

- >:(

- sure, you had a large fan base, but it still hurt to see people touch you the way he wanted to

- it was now his turn, he walked up the stairs with his wobbly knees, wanting to just sit and be near you

- he knew that you would be able to calm his nerves, or make him spontaneously combust

- “hey! i’m y/n! nice to meet you!” you smiled, out-stretching your hand to him, offering to place your hand in his own

- he swiftly, but gently grasped your hand, before placing it on his cheek, letting you hold the soft chub of his cheek

- no fan had been this brave to do this. it was quite surprising to be honest

- he wasn’t breaking any rules so you decided to fuck it and go with it

- you placed both your hands on his cheeks, slightly squishing them together, causing him to adorably pout

- “dash not nishe” he mumbled, brows furrowing

- you laughed before letting go of his face, bringing your hands back to your side of the table

- “you’re so cute! can i sign your album for you?” you smiled, tilting your head to the side

- hawks just..dieded

- mans said peace out

- your beauty was incomprehensible

- phew, he had to get his shit together! he was trying to impress u! he wanted to be the mc in a wattpad story

- we all wanna be y/n

- anywayss

- “sure dove! u can make it out to keigo, u can put your number in it too ;)” he winked

- KDNDHSK

- DID HE—

- DID HE JUST ASK FOR YOUR NUMBER

- LIKE—

- nobody:

- y/n: i’m not gon do it girl.. i’m just thinking about it

- “ah! sorry cutie! i’m not allowed to share my number :333”

- you tried to laugh as you died inside

- he smiled, before placing a kiss on your fingertips

- “don’t worry dove,i respect that” he winked

- BARK BARK

- “i have some gifts for you!” he announced, placing the huge paper bag on top of the table

- he first pulled out your favourite snack before handing it to you

- how did he get these??

- omg

- then, he brought out a bottle of perfume, and a new song writing notebook!

- this was great!!

- “oh my gosh! keigo! you’re too sweet” you cooed,

- this was a lot

- “i also have something else.. would you wear this flower crown for me and do some fan-service?” he queried

- of course you would!

- you nodded before placing the flower crown on top of your head

- “what do you want me to say?”

- “say.. i’ll be a good dove for hawks. is that okay?” he smirked, tracing small circles into the palm of your hands

- w-wHAT

- was this legal

- your managers were literally ignoring you—

- “o-oh! sure! uhm-“

- god you were going to regret this

- “i-i’ll be a good dove for hawks!” you whimpered, showing off your practiced aegyo

- “ahhh! my heart!” he gasped, dramatically clutching his chest

- “excuse me, we need the next fan to come up” you manager tapped the both of your arms

- you nodded before smiling at hawks and waving goodbye

- you were going to miss him :((

- ig it just wasn’t meant to be

- the night you had gotten home, you decided to go through your gifts

- you were particularly interested in the gift you had gotten from the blond man

- it was really sweet of him to get you a notebook

- the moment you had opened it, you had noticed that something was written on the first page

- ‘xxx-xxx-xxxx call me pretty girl <3’

- he was a bold onealright

- you were contemplating on actually calling him

- he could leak your number!

- well, you could just wait for him to speak

- fuck it

- you dialed the number on your phone and waited as it rang

- “hello?”

- “i-is this keigo?”

- “hey dove, i’m glad you called”

- y/n: i did it :33

#hawks x y/n #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #takami keigo x y/n #my hero academia keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #boku no hero academia #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha fluff #my hero academia #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo fluff #x reader #reader insert #fluff #imagine #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

[achubbydumpling]

Modern Bucky is fat and Steve’s sugar baby. Steve likes to spoil him. :3

eyy only took me a month and a half to answer 😂😂 I'm sorry, nonnie, but I'm highjacking your idea and using it for today's chubtober prompt :D

(I ended up having a lot more ideas for this than I could actually finish writing in time, so this ends pretty abruptly as soon as Steve and Bucky actually meet)

[unfinished] Oct 3: Masks and Malfunctions

Rating: Mature Words: 1911 Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Sugar Daddy AU, Daddy Kink, Belly Kink, Weight Gain, Verbal Humiliation, Stuffing, Corsets, Age Gap

Bucky’s phone chimed and he didn’t even have to look at the screen to know that “Steve” just sent him more than enough money for the costume Bucky wanted. He didn’t actually know if that was the guy’s real name, but he’d been funding Bucky’s lifestyle since the beginning of college and Bucky wasn’t about to fuck that up by questioning the guy’s identity.

If this were a normal Halloween party Bucky would have just bought a random costume at Spirit Halloween, but his kinda boyfriend Jonas (it’s complicated) had invited him as a plus one to an actual masquerade ball. Bucky didn’t even know those kinds of things existed outside of fantasy novels, but right now he was at a high-end clothing store getting an “appropriate” costume.

[Bucky] Thank you, Daddy❤

Bucky texted Steve and then went back to trying on another dress shirt. This one had a looser cut that reminded him of something the male love interest in a period drama would wear or a pirate.

“Wonderful choice,” the store clerk told Bucky when he stepped back from the mirror. Bucky would probably never get used to having someone help him pick out clothes, but the higher-end stores Bucky had been to all offered this type of assistance.

“It drapes very well,” the clerk said with a sneer on his face. Bucky turned back to the mirror. Yes, he had to admit he’d fallen victim to the freshman 15. A small belly was rounding out even against the loose fabric of the shirt, but he didn’t actually feel self-conscious.

Steve had complimented him on every single one of those pounds. Bucky probably wouldn’t even have noticed all the changes to his body if Steve hadn’t been constantly talking about them. Bucky had never put much effort into maintaining his physique, but being hyped up by Steve over the smallest changes of his body made him feel desired and his heart fluttered every time his sugar daddy complimented his thicker thighs and soft belly.

“Any other suggestions?” Bucky asked and the clerk scoffed.

“A corset,” he muttered under his breath, but Bucky’s ears pricked up at the suggestion. His first instinct was to text Steve. Bucky didn’t know why it was important for him to know Steve’s opinion when Bucky was going to the party as someone else’s plus one, but excitement stirred in Bucky’s stomach at what Steve might say.

“Sure, get the corset.” Bucky sent the clerk on their way and then sat down to text Steve. He could feel his belly straining against the shirt buttons now that he was sitting down and he snapped a picture of the way the buttons on the otherwise loose shirt were straining over the thickest part of his belly.

[Bucky] Daddy~ they’re telling me I’m fat

[Bucky] they said I need a corset

[Steve] You will look incredible either way.

Annoyance prickled at the back of Bucky’s neck from the generic compliment.

[Bucky] that’s not what I asked

[Steve] You didn’t ask anything.

Bucky rolled his eyes at how literal Steve could sometimes be, but Bucky also didn’t know how to ask for what he really wanted to hear.

Some of his classmates had teased him for his weight gain and instead of making Bucky feel insecure, the hot shame had shot straight to his dick and he’d had to excuse himself to deal with the problem. Since then Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Steve telling him those things.

Bucky didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but he’d quickly developed a crush just from texting him. It was actually fun to talk. Bucky couldn’t understand how the guy was single when he seemed like this perfect, interesting and kind guy—and rich on top of all that.

There has to be something wrong with him, but so far Bucky hadn’t been able to figure it out. Not for the first time Bucky wondered who Steve actually was, but his thoughts were interrupted when the clerk came back with three different corsets.

All the same material and color, just different cuts. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny waist cincher—just tall enough to cover the widest part of his belly. Despite his grumblings the clerk helped Bucky lace up the corset and when he looked in the mirror he couldn’t believe it was him looking back.

His entire body shape seemed different. From the billowing sleeves of the shirt emphasizing his wide shoulders to the waist cincher doing an excellent job of making it look like he still had a waist instead of the soft belly that was hidden underneath. The simple black slacks he was wearing completed his outfit. Simple colors, just black and white.

The mask he had chosen matched as well. A deep midnight black that contrasted with his piercing blue eyes and gold detailing that caught the light when Bucky turned his head. He snapped another picture for Steve, but didn’t wait for his response. Bucky could still hardly believe that a single outfit could be this expensive, but Steve of course had transferred enough money to pay for it. On his way home Bucky finally checked his phone.

[Steve] What did I tell you? Incredible.

[Bucky] better than without the corset?

[Steve] This feels like a set-up.

Bucky groaned at Steve’s response. Of course, Bucky would luck out and get the sugar daddy that won’t humiliate him for gaining fifteen pounds before the semester was even over and wasn’t that a personal revelation. Bucky had never thought of himself as someone who could want something like this, but since gaining weight he had become more aware of his body—and how others perceived it.

[Bucky] it is

He quickly pocketed his phone after sending that text. Bucky immediately regretted it. He’d had a good thing going with Steve. Why risk fucking that up? His phone vibrated multiple times, but Bucky was too worried to check his messages until he got home. As soon as he’d closed the apartment door behind him he fished his phone out of his pocket.

[Steve] What does that mean?

[Steve] If you don’t want to continue this arrangement, you can just tell me.

[Steve] Bucky.

[Steve] Answer me.

[Steve] What do you want me to say? That you’re a spoiled pig? That you’ve gotten fat on your Daddy’s money and need a corset to look good for your little boytoy?

Bucky’s throat went dry as he read Steve’s message. The wave of lust that crashed through him, threw him off balance and he sat down heavily on the bench in the entry way of his apartment. He read the message again. And again. His dick gave an interested twitch. It was embarrassing how much he reacted to Steve’s words.

[Steve] Is that what you want?

[Steve] Don’t leave me on read.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He typed and retyped the same message again until another one from Steve popped up.

[Steve] ‘Yes’ or ‘no’? It can’t be this hard to type one fucking word.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. Steve had always been kind and considerate, it made Bucky’s heart race to see this side of him.

[Bucky] Yes.

[Steve] Thank you, but we will talk more about this tomorrow.

Bucky’s phone chimed to tell him, he should be on his way now if he wanted to get to the party on time. His mind was still caught up in foggy arousal, his cock tenting his slacks. It’s too much, he wasn’t thinking straight and Steve wasn’t even here—wasn’t even touching him. Just a text and Bucky was a mess.

At least the walk to the subway station helped to clear Bucky’s head and chase away some of the immediate, burning need that had been burning in his guts just a few minutes earlier. It left him frustrated, but slightly more level-headed and in a more appropriate mood to be out in public.

When Bucky met up with Jonas outside the high-rise office building the guy was already wasted. He was surrounded by his office buddies and Bucky was honestly about to turn on his heel and go back home when Jonas called out to him. With all his mates there Jonas treated Bucky like another one of them and Bucky was already over the metaphorical dick-measuring contest that was happening whenever one of these guys opened their mouth.

Once they got inside Bucky split off from the group, Jonas didn’t even seem to notice. So, he explored the venue. The party stretched across multiple floors. The bottom floor was full of rich and wanna-be rich people schmoozing and socializing, barely anyone of them had stuck to the masquerade theme and Bucky kept debating whether he should take off his own mask.

He was much more comfortable on the upper floor. There were less people here and most of them kept to themselves. He felt less out of place when he noticed that most of the people here stuck to the masquerade theme, there were only a few people who’s face wasn’t at least partially hidden behind a mask.

Jonas didn’t even shoot him a quick text to ask where he had disappeared to, so Bucky was more than ready to just find whatever food this place offered, eat for free tonight and make the best of the situation. He didn’t know what he’d expected dating someone his age, but Bucky was done settling for anything and he made a resolution to break up whatever was going on between him and Jonas.

When Bucky finally found the buffet that was standard for these types of events, he couldn’t stop himself from loading up two plates and searching for a quiet, secluded place to eat. At this point it had become a reflex to send Steve a text whenever he sat down to stuff himself.

[Bucky] found the food

He sent a picture with his hand next to the plates to give Steve a sense of how big they were. Some guy’s phone went off as soon as Bucky hit send two tables over and for a moment Bucky wondered if that’s Steve.

He had a commanding presence even sitting down. Bucky could tell he’s a gym buff from his ridiculous shape. His shoulders looked almost double the size of his waist. As well as the large plate of food in front of him. This man needed to fuel his body with all those calories, but Bucky was eating more than him and only planning on getting fatter. Bucky dug in.

His little costume went from fitting perfectly fine to too tight within half a plate of food. The corset was throwing a wrench into Bucky’s plan of stuffing himself. He already felt full before he had even really gotten started. The blond guy from two tables over caught Bucky’s eye again. He was frowning at his phone and looking back up at Bucky.

[Steve] What are you doing here?

[Bucky] what do you mean?

Another phone chime from two tables down. Bucky re-read the text two times before he looked back at the blond guy. No way that’s Steve. That would be too much of a coincidence, right? Bucky sent another message and the guy’s phone went off again. For a moment Bucky contemplates just getting up and walking away, but then Steve was already out of his chair and walking up to Bucky’s table.

#asks #chubby bucky #chubtober 2021 #chubby kink

[therealnightcity]

Character Study

Layer 01: The Outside -Name: Hiro Oda -Eye Color: Originally brown, and replaced with blue optics -Hair Style/Color: Hiro has messy black hair, kept shorter on the sides. It’s usually worn in a bun or a short ponytail. He has black hair, and spends an embarassing amount of time on it. -Height: 5'4 Clothing Style: Hiro's style isn't easy to catagorize--he wears whatever catches his eye from crop tops and leathers, to button up shirts that are open down to his waist. He isn't a afraid to wear color, or loud patterns, and showing skin, even if it's not always the most practical. When on missions or out and about, he disguises his face using his old Tyger Claws mask. He has two–one in red and the other in black. It’s a chore trying to get him to wear formal clothing, he hates getting dressed up and prefers fabric with a shine/interesting textures (especially leather, but he wouldn’t say no to a dash of latex on occasion, anything that catches the eye). His look is very much influenced by his upbringing, and there's no mistaking from for a Corpo or Nomad. -Best Physical Feature: He’s attached to his tattoos, despite that they represent a part of his life he’s very much done with. He keeps them as a reminder, of sorts. He’s confident about his appearance and spends a lot of time working on it, and is slightly vain. If you asked someone else, they'd say his freckles are one of his most distinct, or his vibrant blue optics

Layer 02: The Inside -Fears: He’s afraid of more than he likes to let on. He’s afraid of water especially if he can’t see the bottom of it–he never learned to swim. He’s definitely afraid of losing people he cares about–there’s not very many of them and he’s afraid of his defection from the Tyger Claws painting a target on them. While not exactly a fear he finds the Badlands unsettling–there’s so much open space and it’s oddly quiet, especially after the noise and lights of Night City.  -Guilty Pleasures: Real coffee (even though it’s a frivolous expense), baking, and trying to pet every stray cat he can find. -Biggest Pet-peeves: How people tend to treat joytoys/dolls, as if they’re disposable. As someone’s who’s past is a bit spotty, it’s a sensitive topic and he gets grouchy/tight-lipped if you push him too much -Ambitions for the Future: Beyond finding a way to extricate the chip and keep both him and Johnny in one piece? He’d like to eventually make enough doing merc work to be able to just make a living fixing stuff. He’s a good mechanic and would love the time/financial stability to be able to work on his hobbies more. And if he was fantasizing? Finding somewhere that feels like home, and where he's safe.

Layer 03: Thoughts -First thought waking up: I don’t have nearly enough coffee for this (in the event he managed to actually sleep in the first place) -What they think about most: Trying to keep himself alive and fed, in NC this is a constant job and requires a lot of vigilance -What they think about right before bed: So much–they have terrible insomnia so post-sleep anxiety is fairly common.  -What they think their good quality is: They’re generous and have a strong moral compass–will occasionally not charge people for gigs despite the monetary loss, especially if it seems like he’d be taking advantage of the situation or it doesn’t feel right. He’s kind, even if he does come off as rather prickly.

Layer 04: Either Or -Single or group dates: Depends on what his partner prefers. He’s not one to set up formal dates though. He’d rather just go out for a casual cup of coffee or a late night bike ride. He only realizes it’s a date after the fact, usually.  -To be loved or respected: He’d rather be loved. He’s seen where only wanting respect gets you and he’d rather not turn out like his corpo older brother -Beauty or Brains: He definitely coasts by on intuition, luck and good looks at times so he’s a bit biased but in regards to a partner, it doesn’t matter much to him? A sense of empathy/loyalty are more important to him than either. -Dogs or Cats: Cats! He loves them (and owns two–a Sphinx named Kira, and a black cat he’s dubbed Goro–as it seems to share the same look of general disapproval.)

Layer 05: Do They… -Lie?: Yes, if it's to keep himself safe. He tries not to lie to friends or family though, especially if it's only for his own benefit. -Believe in themselves?: It depends on who’s asking. They come off as very confident but it hides a lot of deeply rooted insecurity. They’re more sensitive than they like to let on.  -Believe in love?: A bit. They admire the idea of it but don’t think it’s for them. It’s something they secretly really crave though.-Want someone?: Yes--whether or not he stops being stubborn enough to admit it is another matter entirely.

Layer 06: -Been on stage?: Yes, it’s a common thing (or at least, previously had been) and they’re fairly desensitized to it.  -Done drugs?: Tends to try really hard to stay away from them. Both his parents had issues with them and definitely played a role in their death. He uses airhypos/anasthetic grudgingly but that’s it.  -Changed who they were to fit in?: Not to fit in, per-se but to slide under the radar better. They know that it’s safer going unnoticed in Night City most of the time and that’s the way they like it. They’re good at putting on masks for people though. It takes a lot of patience, and a bit of a thick skin to get them to drop it and show facets of their real personality through. They’re a lot softer than they first let on though. 

Layer 07: -Favorite Color: He'll wear pretty much anything but leans towards black, blues, red and pink. -Favorite Animal: He loves cats (and has two that he dotes on like his children) -Favorite Book: It would be challenging to get him to admit it, but he can’t read very well, but he really enjoys when others read to him. Poetry is some of his favorite. -Favorite Game: Not a game per-se but he’s really into racing. Bikes are a hobby of his and he’s damned good at it, and has very little fear (and more than a little recklessness). He also wouldn’t say no to a game of pool once in a while, particularly if he can rope his friends into a game of it. He's not fantastic at it, but has fun anyway.

Layer 08: -Day their next birthday will be: He doesn’t know his birthday so he decided on Oct. 31st.  -How old they will be: 25 (at least he thinks so)

Layer 09: I… -I Love: The people I’ve let get close to me -I Feel: Determined. We’ll find a way where we get to decide our future, whatever the cost.  -I Hide: My fears and ugly bits of my past. I don’t like letting other people know and making them worry. I don’t want their pity.  -I Miss: Jackie. There’s still a lot of guilt there.-I Wish: We had more time, or at least a more clear solution. I feel adrift.

(screenshot by @cayennenpopsicles)

#character bios #oc: hiro oda #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk ocs #virtual photography