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#LIKE I DID SNIPPETS WHILE I WAS AT WORK
hrokkall · 3 months
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You were created by humans to protect. They died, so you continued to protect—protect everything they hold dear. You rest in the corners of hell that make mockeries of their holy places and tell yourself that you, you are the last bastion of everything they held dear. You are more than a machine, you fight like man—with honor—as you still bow before the thing that claims to be you. It fights like a dog, and you flee. You can't bring yourself to go back and see what has become of the temple.
You have a new purpose now. If it seeks to destroy, you will give it destruction. You use everything that humanity taught you to create, study the curvatures of their statues to weld together a new arm out of the remains of a sentry you mangled (what a worthless, worthless warmachine—knowing nothing but itself) resembling their own. You settle, once again, in a faux temple—this one of golden stone—and you wait.
It arrives. Of course it does. And you rend it apart. Piece by bloody piece. You take apart everything that you hate, hate, hate. It takes until your chest is dented in for the red haze in your vision to clear, to realize the scrap lining the floor is your own.
So you flee. Not in cowardice—you are not human enough for cowardice, you have always known this—but for the most mechanical thought of self-preservation. You flee and it follows, and some sinking feeling knows that the only thing the two of you feel is hunger.
You were never human, nor did you truly seek to protect anything but yourself. You will never know peace, for you were nothing more than a leftover of war.
It hardly matters. You were created by humans to die—and you die like the machine you are.
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notthestarwar · 11 months
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Snippet from: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Chapter 5
Ghost Mace speaks to past Jaster (alive) and tells him what he knows of Jango's future, in the life he lived.
Mace's brow stiffened. "When we realised what we had done, we tried to find him but we could not."
"We tried to find the True Mandolorian's but the survivors had fled in all directions. We did try and see justice done, there was an overhaul of our internal mission preparation process. We changed our training. Dooku left the order as did his apprentice."
"None of it could make up for what we did. Years after the fact, I learnt that Jango was sold in to slavery by the governor. It took him years to escape. I learnt of the weight of what we had done in helping end the True Mandolorian's. In leaving Death Watch unchecked."
He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango, but it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since the day I left on a mission to retrieve him; to attempt to offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."
" We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years." Mace shook his head.
"You hold no blame here, but we just might."
And isn't that a thing. His son haunting a Jedi even before that Jedi might haunt him.
Jango is tangled up in something here far beyond Jaster's reckoning.
Mace is laying out the constituent parts that when put together, make Jango in to the man that is responsible for the death of every single person standing in that warehouse. Jaster isn't sure where that leaves him, because once he's done hearing this story, in the years that lay ahead of them yet, every single one of these horrible pieces is going to fall in to place. Tragedy after Tragedy ready to be pasted and slapped on to the boy he loves, his son, in order to make him in to the man that did this.
How the hell can Jaster stand by and let that happen?
There are no rules that apply to Jaster, not anymore. He doesn't care about morality or the ethics of fucking with a future that's apparently already happened. He has no care for his own code, not now. None of it matters.
Jaster is Jango's buir, before all else. He has been from the day he stepped in to a smoldering farmhouse and against the odds saw signs of life dancing across his HUD. The Ka'ra gave him Jango and by god, it can stand back while he brings his son back from the abyss.
Mace is watching him. "Jaster, you had no hand in making Jango Fett the man he became at the end. You did not abandon him, you were taken from him. I need you to know this. You should know that none of this was your fault. "
Jaster doesn't care. It doesn't matter if its his fault or not, he is responsible all the same; because he wants to be. He didn't fall in to parenthood, he walked in to it willingly. For Jango, there is no monster that Jaster will not face.
The ka'ra has given him one last gift. The opportunity to see Jango's life after Jaster, and a few precious years in which to try and change them. It may not be in Jaster's power to save his son from himself but by god, he'll die trying.
He looks at the Jedi.  "Tell me the rest."
Some of my thoughts below the cut
Some of my thoughts (because clearly rambling in the comments hasn't been enough for me lol)
I had a lot of fun with this one. I've written about ghosts before but with this one, I went at it from another angle. In this au, ghosts aren't bound by linear time. If you do something that leaves a ghost tied to your soul, they are tied to you in the past as well as the future. Jango and Jaster are both Force Sensitive (tho with a Mando understanding of it. They call it 'star touched') and so can see ghosts.
In this fic, moving in with Jaster sets Jango on the path that brings him to the prequels. Once he's on that path, the ghosts that'll be tied to him in his future, can move freely along the timeline, with each of them pulled to a particular version of Jango. Jango will obviously be responsible for the deaths of quite a few people, there are his bounties, the Jedi and the clones and so on; but when the first ghost appears he's just a kid. The story deals with Jaster coming to terms with the fact that his kid, who he loves beyond reason, even if he stumbled upon him quite by accident, one day becomes the person that will make all these ghosts.
At first there's only one ghost in their time, but Jaster can't let it go (tho he knows he should), he needs to know what happens. So he keeps asking until she admits that she isn't the only ghost and that they are tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. Then, he keeps pushing until she introduces him to the others. She gathers them in a warehouse (so Jango doesn't see) and takes Jaster there.
In the part of the story this snippet is from, Jaster has just been confronted with an excessive number of people (including children) who are all tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. He's had a (understandable) freak out, and ghost Mace has taken him aside and offered to tell him what he knows of Jango's future, and how it led to the death of so many people.
What follows is a buddy up adventure between Mace and Jaster (unlikely duo) in which Jaster tries to come to terms with what Mace has told him, and the horrible events that led to Jango becoming the man that would one day be responsible for all these ghosts. While he tries to save Jango from himself, long before he needs saving.
The idea behind the fic is the inevitability of a tragedy. There's a feeling when you're watching a tragedy play out, that it's all so unnecessary, that it didn't need to happen, but you only know that because as the audience you know that they are in a tragedy, the characters don't know. So what if a character did know? Jaster is served advance notice, will having that allow him to save Jango, or will it just feed in to the fulfillment of this prophetic future?
I wanted to explore the fact that there's only so much one particular character can do, in trying to prevent the end another is headed towards and also, the power of familial love, even when it's found somewhere unexpected. Jaster isn't Jango's blood family, he didn't even know him till he was an older child, which I think makes his love for Jango in spite of knowing what he will become, all the more powerful. The glimpse of Jango's future is disgusting to Jaster, it goes against all he believes in, but its Jango so he can't hate him for it, he loves him too much and so, he's determined to save him from himself. He's willing to do the impossible.
Then there's Mace: so in this au, Mace is sent out shortly after Galidraan, when it becomes clear to the order that they've made a mistake, to find the survivor they left in the hands of the Governor, and to right a wrong. He isn't successful, he looks everywhere but he can't find him, and in the end the order write him off as dead. In this au, Jango was 18 on Galidraan and what Mace sees as his failure to save someone that was little more as a child, and suffered so greatly thanks to what the order see as their own neglect, haunts him for the rest of his career.
Its that idea of 'the one case you couldn't close'. It's at the start of his career and he goes on to do amazing things, Mace is peak Jedi, he invents a new form, he's one of the youngest Jedi to be elected to the council, he ends up heading that council, but he is still human (or near human lol sw complicates everything. he's 100% human in a fallible/emotional/sapient sense) I think that as a Master Jedi he's very aware of his own weaknesses, and he tries to work through it, he talks to it with other Jedi, and he certainly doesn't let it affect his judgement, but he can't forget it all the same.
So it's this version of Mace that ended up meeting Jango in the arena. Which I think adds such an interesting angle.
#Jaster Mereel#Mace#I've been thinking about this one (and a part of chapter 7 which i might post as another snippet)#cause i saw a poll talking about who was responsible for Jango's death and I've got a lot of opinions about that#that can not be contained by a poll lol. it's something i explored in this fic#pretty much. i think that Mace had no choice but i don't think he'd agree with that. i think he'd struggle with having killed Jango and#how he killed him. (decapitation. a particularly violent move. which i don't think he had a choice in. but yeah think he'd struggle)#i think that Jango pretty much ensured his own end and was too intelligent to not realise he was doing that so i think that was a#self hatred/survivors guilt/'i have lived past my end' kind of thing#i also think that Jango was only the person that always would have brought death upon himself like that because his past made him so#and i think his past was bad enough to make him that because it suited the greater narrative to have him end up like that#it suited palps ends pretty much. did palps know he was doing that or did the universe just work in his favour? who knows.#still worked out well for him#the poll got me thinking about Mace which got me thinking about this fic but writing about the fic has me thinking about this fic again#kinda tempted to go through it again and give it a bit of a face lift. old once over. shine it up a bit#I've always hated that it's 17 chapters tbh. want it to be 15 or 20. i don't think I'll address that this time tho.#might just try an edit however#has this???? no i won't say it. not to curse it but... the editing/ read back block may... be shifting. possibly.#considering an edit hadn't seemed so possible in a while.#there are so many things i need to look over once i can lol I've posted things still in draft state#that's cool tho. no problem. not thinking about that just thinking about how nice it would be to give this old thing a shine#Mace is so ready here to absorb all the blame for everything on the order (and by extension him) but its really not on them
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moe-broey · 3 months
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Me, so scared of being Looked At and Seen and Perceived I'm shaking crying throwing up: Hey guys look at my OC that's a reflection of the self boy
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boxwinebaddie · 5 months
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being in writer girl hell alone is boring sometimes so everyone please enjoy raven in his lil suit being bad as hell and also boyfailing smh
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snailsweater · 10 months
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I think VegasKim works because Kim looking at Vegas is Kim looking at a slightly distorted mirror. Kim would be Vegas if Gun was his father, they are very similar in their nature. In a universe where Gun and Korn are not unhinged, I can imagine Vegas chilling in Kim's apartment, reading a book while Kim is working on a song, they enjoy art, they enjoy spoiling and protecting the people they love, they enjoy physical pursuits, and both are good at combat. They both are ruled by their emotions even though they try to come off as cold and calculated. And I think it's the same for Vegas, Kinn is his competition, but Kim is like a parallel universe version of him, and I think while Vegas could be jealous that Kim has more than he does, he can see past that and knows that Kim is just as caged that he is. I really wish people wrote more Vegas and Kim stuff (romantic or not).
Anon. Anon, wait a friggn second, hold up. You are a fucking genius, holy, oh my, I am loosing my goddamn mind!
It makes total sense!
And you also filled my heart and brain with the picture of a cozy, homey Vegas chilling with Kim….
Vegas turns the page, lost in thought by the familiar motion and the sounds of Kim's guitar playing in the background. He feels how the notes link into his noisy thoughts, silencing the strain and the constant racing of the deeply rooted rules and expectations. It allows him to be.
Kim closes his eyes, his fingers pressing over the strings of the guitar in a melody he doesn't yet know, running up and down the slender fingerboard as he fills the silence with more and more new sounds. Peace. Silence, yet full of life. His foot begins to tap to the rhythm. His heartbeat echoes inside. Power. Strength dancing along his nerves and muscles. He transfers the beat to his leg until his knee follows and he begins to drum his knuckles against the body between each note.
It's a melody, new and appealing. It reaches for his mind, weaving new life around images and memories.
Vegas's fingers make his knife dance beside the book on his lap. A silver twirl that slowly descends until the tip of the knife taps against the cover of the book in time with the beat. Irregular, smudged lines play around the end where the blade sinks into the handle. His head falls back on his neck, a grin, teeth bared, eyes glinting. Kim's gaze meets his across the room.
"Dum-deu-dum-dum…"
The impact takes his breath away. The back of his head slams into the stone, sending his mind into zero gravity. A mad, delirious laugh bursts from Kim's lips. The hand on his neck is fleshy and rough. The fingers clawing behind his larynx, blunt and clumsy.
For a moment, he lets his hands hang beside his body. A second in which his opponent thinks he has the upper hand. Then that head smashes to the side, expodes in front of Kim's eyes before he closes them. Blood rains down, soaking his clothes and hair.
"You're getting sloppy, Nong." The title was tinged with mockery. Vegas lunges again with the scantling and rams the end into the stomach of his closest opponent. He goes down, mouth open but unable to scream.
No hand is held out to Kim. Instead, fingers claw into his shoulder and yank him up. Again, his back hits the wall, stone hitting bruises and abrasions.
"Nong."
Vegas. A piercing look in his eyes, hair wet from the rain, silk shirt rumpled. The scantling rests on his shoulder. The slipped collar exposes a clavicle where the dark shadow of a welt blooms.
The silence in response makes him change his posture. His stance becomes wider, his body more tense. His eyes begin to calculate the remaining opponents. Who all would he be able to take out….
"Feels like you're lucid dreaming." Vegas growls and shakes his head. His hand on the scantling tightens, the former trash becoming a deadly weapon in his hands.
His other hand grips Kim's shoulder, whose laughter slowly dies away. The grin remains as his fingers falteringly tap against Vegas' tense stomach.
"That day will never come." Kim pushes him aside with a jerk. His hand closes around the knife on his belt. Adrenaline surges through his veins and legs. Three steps in a sprint and he jumps.
The impact of his weight yanks his attacker off his feet and the knife him out of existence.
Vegas drags him back to his feet from a crouch before his low position would be his undoing. Stumbling, Kim staggers to his side. Their shoulders meet and his head jerks up. They're not done yet.
The movements come automatically. Their bodies remember before their minds do. Seamlessly, they slide back to back. Kim, knife in hand, the other clenched into a fist and raised to eye level, body centered. Vegas, eyes locked on his attackers, cracks his neck.
"Don't disappoint me now Nong." A hiss over his shoulder. He doesn't turn around. The blind spot doesn't exist, because inside it waits Kim.
"Watch out…" the younger man warns quietly, lips raised in a smile. "I'm going to steal your show."
Vegas laughs as he twirls the two-by-four. Blood drips onto the street. And soon it would fill the puddles and soak the pavement.
"Dum-deu-dum-dum-dum…"
Kim's fingers continue to dance across the pages, bringing the sleeping instrument to life and filling the room with a new warmth.
He senses a hunch, an inspiration coming within reach, but he can't separate himself from the sounds just yet. Only a few chords later does he let the last note die away and reach for his notebook.
Vegas watches the gleam of his now-clean blade in the dim light of the apartment.
"Next time, you keep your hands off my stuff and use your own, got it?" The sentence has no real anger behind it, but the warning is clear. Kim smiles. The movement tears at his open lip. Blood seeps onto his tongue. "Not everyone is happy with a weapon made out of fucking trash."
Vegas snorts, the knife dropping to the empty cushion beside him. He turns his head and lowers his eyes back to his book, the weight of the pages familiar and soft in his now clean hands.
"You should be creative Nong." He turns the page. There's a rustle, accompanied by Kim's pen scratching on music paper, capturing the inspiration he's just gained.
"Why would I?" Kim's answer is casual, his mind already lost between words and lyrics to the new song. His fingers tap the music sheets in sync with the beat.
"When it comes down to it, I'll just grab your stuff again."
Vegas growls something unintelligible, but the smile on his lips betrays him.
The apartment sinks into silence once again, interrupted only by the occasional flipping of book pages and fingers drumming on the table.
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Nosy anon here, wondering if you perhaps have any snippets of your recent fic stuff that you'd like to share? Totally no worries if the answer is no though, of course! Only if you wanna. :)
As much as I do appreciate the enthusiasm, I don't think I'm feeling up to posting fanfic stuff again quite yet. I don't really have a particular reason to give as to why, just kind of not in that headspace as of right now, sorry... ┐(=w=;)┌ Maybe another day! Just not right now. Again, I still do really appreciate the love, though! <3
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orcelito · 1 year
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rereading old thoughts & plans about the Mamakechi Lives au i had going a year ago now & being like "wow this is rly good actually, i should continue this" but knowing i have two other WIPs that i posted a first chapter for but have not touched since bc i am focused on my main thing, discacc, so everything else gets overall neglected
... but also. it's genuinely pretty good
lsdjfslkdfj for the hell of it i'll post the intro i wrote to it here . uh . you're welcome?
Akechi Goro lived by five undeniable truths.  One. The world at large was trash.  Selfishness ran rampant amongst the rich and the poor alike. While the rich hoarded their wealth, laughing at all who dared to be born common, the poor fought tooth and nail for any scrap of affluence they could get their pathetic hands on. Like crabs in a bucket - when one rose up, another would tug them down. Two. Success was everything.  In a society that valued productivity above human lives, to be less than perfect was to commit the worst mortal sin. Those who didn't meet society's expectations were fated to live in poverty and suffering. If one wanted to avoid that fate, they could be nothing less than the best. Three. Friends were useless.  Idealistic stories loved to enthuse about the 'power of friendship', but it was all empty. Pointless. Not once had Goro needed something as pathetic as friends. While others cried at being 'lonely', he spent his time being productive. The idea of friendship was simply a distraction - nothing more and nothing less.  Four. No one would help him. In his nearly 18 years of life, Goro had grown to accept that his life was his responsibility and his alone. Teachers tutted behind his back about how unfortunate he was, while peers mocked him for his ratty clothes. No one ever extended a hand to help him… but it was all the same to him. He didn't need their help. Five. His mother was his reason for living, just as he was hers.  Akechi Shiori was the embodiment of everything that society hated. A single mother, a former sex worker, a sufferer of mental illness and a survivor of attempted suicide. The world did its best to hammer her into the ground, but she never truly gave in. She never would, so long as she had her precious Goro… And she always would. He loved her like he loved no one else. Everything he was, everything he strived for, was for her sake alone. He would capture success so he could give her the life she was denied. He would support her so she could wake up one day after another with a smile.  She was everything to him, just like he was to her. 
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sleepyblr-heart · 4 days
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i have rewritten the collection system for find the pronouns to be less terrible
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karmaphone · 5 months
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singlets stop presuming that everyone is multiple to some degree, actually challenge
#bruh there's a big distinction#does everyone experience dissociation? yes most people daydream and read books and lose track of what exactly they're doing while driving#the big distinction is SEPARATE personality states#if you do not have more than one of you in your head then you're a fucking singlet no matter how much dissociation you experience#there's a big difference between say someone with did or osdd and someone with dpdrd#can it run the whole gamut of experiences thereupon? yea. are there some people who don't align fully with either and who don't fall into#neat little boxes because that's not how the human experience works? yea#but there is a huge difference between acknowledging the level of dissociation that people experience every day and not integrating multipl#personality states between the ages of six and nine#it's a literal documented thing. there's research about it. it's not like systems are doing ALL of this in the dark#it's not like systems are out here pointing at singlets and being like You Have Exactly 0% Of What I Experience because it's just not true!#everyone experiences dissociation but not everyone has multiple fucking people inside them!!!#compare me losing entire days and weeks and remembering NOTHING except vague minute long snippets to people suffering in school from not#being able to pee when they need to#is much of our daily life traumatizing? yes. is it so traumatizing as a whole that Everyone's A Little Bit Multiple Actually? hell no#we make up 1-3% of the population not fucking 10-20 or 30-50 and certainly not 90#I realize this comes off as super psychiatry approval-y which I personally don't believe much in but like. we'll take what fucking#scientific evidence of our existence we can fucking GET#I'm. literally Angry right now ****** will probably delete this later but jfc are you serious
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zanarkandskylines · 1 month
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₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)
『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 。‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧。 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
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It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.
Boy, did that come in handy.
You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.
One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.
The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.
You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!
Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.
You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!
What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.
When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.
Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.
Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.
“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”
He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.
“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”
He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.
“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.
Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.
“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.
“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.
Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.
You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.
“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.
He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.
“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.
You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.
Oh fuck-
Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.
“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”
You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.
His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.
“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.
You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.
“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”
Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”
The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.
Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.
Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.
“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”
“Like you’re complaining.”
His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.
“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.
“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”
Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.
Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.
"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."
Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.
“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"
You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."
The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."
Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.
You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.
“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”
Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.
“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.
“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”
Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.
He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."
His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.
With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"
You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.
"Good fuckin' girl, baby."
He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.
Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.
"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."
You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"
He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.
Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.
"Wha-"
You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.
"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."
Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.
"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"
Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.
"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.
"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"
Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.
"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."
His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.
"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."
"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."
Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.
"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."
You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.
"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"
The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.
"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.
"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."
He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.
tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥
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beardedjoel · 8 months
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pretty little wife | better now
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡
i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡
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How’s my pretty little wife today?
The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  
Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  
You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.
You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.
“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.
“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.
“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 
When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 
Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.
“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.
“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 
“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.
“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 
“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 
“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.
“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.
“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”
“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.
“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.
Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.
Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.
“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 
Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 
“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.
“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 
Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.
“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 
“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 
“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 
“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”
You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 
“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 
To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.
You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.
When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.
“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.
He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 
“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”
“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.
“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”
With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 
He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.
Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 
“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.
“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 
You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 
When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.
“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.
“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.
“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.
“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.
“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 
Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.
“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.
“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.
“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.
You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.
Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 
He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.
“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.
“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.
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tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x
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Pregnancy Reactions - 141, Los Vaqueros + König
Requested by Anon
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Honestly, he's stunned.
Doesn't matter how close you two are, his reaction will be the same; internally, he's panicking but on the outside? He's cold.
Probably would disappear for a while to think.
I don't think he necessarily didn't want kids - more so that he didn't want his child to end up growing up how he did, and so decided that he actively wouldn't pursue having any.
But naturally, life doesn't always work out like that.
He'd absolutely want to be a part of the child's life, he wouldn't up and leave, but it would take him a lot of time and effort to figure out how he was going to voice his concerns to you.
Doesn't like being vulnerable in any way shape or form, and talking about his past is something he avoids at all costs.
Simon wants to be able to be open with you and tell you everything but Ghost wants to shut himself off and keep it to himself.
He'd probably reappear out of the blue after a few days - wouldn't be surprised or annoyed if you were angry at him for disappearing, he expects it.
It would probably be further along in your pregnancy before he would start talking about his past - mainly snippets about how his father raised him, and why he'd been so distant with you.
He'd be the type to just watch you as you sleep - not in a creepy way, you just look so peaceful - and his eyes would trail over your growing bump, knowing that you were carrying his child and he would do anything to keep you safe.
Wouldn't want you going anywhere by yourself, especially when you're closer to your due date; doesn't trust people in general, especially strangers, so if he can't go with you he'd probably ask Johnny or one of the Team to go with you.
Feels the baby kick for the first time and he can't speak. Literally can't get a word out. There's this cocktail of emotions churning in his stomach, and all he can do is keep his hand on your bump, thumbing over the skin where he could feel his child moving.
This guy would probably scare the shit out of the Doctors when you go for your ultrasound appointments - he doesn't even say a word, he's just this hulking figure dressed in black sitting in the chair next to you, gaze burning through everyone else in the room.
He'd probably be deployed when you gave birth - would be as angry as a bear in a cage when he found out, chomping at the bit to get back to you.
The first time he held the baby, all wrapped up in their little blankets, he felt his heart swell.
They were so small in his arms, big eyes peering up at him in wonder at their Dad's face.
So innocent and pure, not yet hurt by the world.
He felt a tug in his stomach as he remembered how he felt when he held his nephew for the first time…
And he made a promise to both you and his little one that he would never let anyone hurt you or take you away from him.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
His first reaction? "Ah shite."
Now don't take that as him being angry or annoyed - he's not, he's just surprised. It's a knee jerk reaction.
Regardless if it was a one-night stand or you've been together for a while, he's going to be equal parts shocked and amazed at the prospect of being a Dad.
He'd thought about the prospect of having a family before but with his job, he just didn't think it was a possibility.
Goes with you to every appointment - if he's deployed, he phones and texts you when he can, asking how you and the "wee one" are doing.
Carries an ultrasound picture in his wallet and is definitely the type of guy who shows the Team every time it comes up in conversation - Ghost acts annoyed but was secretly honoured when Johnny said that he could be "Uncle Ghost."
The Team - well, mainly Soap, Gaz and sometimes Price - would try and decide on a nickname for the little one for when they were born; they decided on 'Suds,' since Soap and Suds sounded cool.
He's not really bothered about what gender the baby will be - a mini version of either of you would be amazing in his eyes, and as long as they're a happy and healthy baby that's all he could ever want.
Absolutely panics when you go into labour - and probably would faint at least once in the delivery room.
If you ended up having a caesarean section, his face would be absolutely priceless - he's no stranger to blood and gore, but the fact that you're awake and talking to him while your insides are being moved around makes him queasy.
Definitely cried when he held the baby for the first time - and wouldn't let them go for a while.
Captain John Price
Now this was something he wasn't expecting at all.
He's an older guy, and considering his role in the military and his lifestyle in general he didn't think he would ever have kids of his own.
Would be protective of you from the get-go, wouldn't let you do any heavy lifting or anything strenuous.
Probably wouldn't tell the Team outright - it would end up randomly coming up in conversation and they all would be so amazed and confused since they had no idea.
Absolutely dotes on you throughout your pregnancy - rubs your feet, gets you any foods or drinks that you're craving, even does that thing where he lifts your bump from behind to give you a reprieve from the weight.
Would love to have a son but would be equally as overjoyed if you had a daughter.
Definitely packs your maternity bag well in advance of your due date - everything is crisply folded and organised, showing his military training.
He's easily the most calm out of everyone when you go into labour - he may have cringed a bit when he saw the epidural needle but you didn't see anything.
I can see him as the Dad who doesn't do babytalk, but he doesn't speak to the baby like an adult either - he just chats away to them while they're bundled up against his chest, little hand wrapped around his thumb.
Yep, they'd absolutely have him wrapped around their finger from day one.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Similarly to Soap, his initial reaction is basically “oh shit.”
He’s still quite young, and he’d never thought that far ahead in his future about settling down and having a family, so he’s gobsmacked.
Gradually warms up to the idea of being a Dad - he’d probably end up going to Price for advice, and his Captain was secretly flattered.
His face lights up and a smile spreads across his face when you guys went for your first scan appointment; seeing the baby, like a little jelly bean on the screen, made things feel so much more real.
Eventually tells the Team - Soap pats him on the back, and may or may have not asked if he can be “Uncle Soap.”
Inwardly melts when he sees the baby shoes - they’re so tiny.
I can see him as the type of guy who buys little shoes that match ones he has - him and the baby would he fashion icons.
Absolutely shits himself when you go into labour - no amount of preparation was helping him in the moment, he almost forgot to lift the maternity bag on the way out the door.
Holds the baby with the upmost care - at first he was a bit awkward because it had been a while since he’d even been around a child, but once you showed him how to hold them properly, he was golden.
Like Price, the baby has him wrapped around their tiny fingers from the jump, and he promises to protect them from anything the world could throw their way.
Alejandro Vargas
He's a passionate man so regardless of whether it was a fling or if you had been together for a long time, he's ecstatic.
Rudy is probably the first person he tells, his friend patting him on the back in congratulations.
Definitely would already start looking at baby names - he'd have a list.
Very protective, doesn’t like you going anywhere on your own and only trusts certain people to be around you, especially when you’re in your third trimester.
Rudy is number one in his list of trusted people, alongside 141; it’s so strange seeing these hulking, intimidating men become so soft and caring around you.
I reckon he’d hope for a baby girl - he’s love his child endlessly regardless of their gender but something about being a girl Dad just fits him so well.
If the baby did end up being a girl though, he’s going to be her personal bodyguard - doesn’t matter if she’s 13 or 30, nobody will be messing with his daughter.
If the baby ended up being a boy, he’d be equally as happy - having a mini version of himself around the house would be adorable.
You’d have to try and tell him to stop buying baby clothes - every time he’d go to the store to get you whatever foods you were craving, he’d come back with a million different outfits and little shoes, and honestly you guys were running out of space to put it all.
Carries the ultrasound pictures with him but only shows those who he can trust - so, mainly Rudy and some of the other members of Los Vaqueros.
Can’t stop smiling when he sees the baby for the first time, it’s surprising that his cheeks aren’t sore.
Tries not to be the overbearing Dad but watches others like a hawk when they’re holding the baby.
He’s honestly just so delighted to be a Dad.
Rudy Parra
He’s a quiet guy, so his reaction is a lot more contained in comparison to his comrade, Alejandro.
Asks if you’re sure, a small smile on his lips.
He’s excited at the prospect of being a Dad but is also worried that you or the baby would be in danger considering his line of work.
Tells Alejandro - his comrade is bursting with excitement, congratulating his friend.
You’d have the whole of Los Vaqueros and 141 ready to protect you, quelling Rudy’s fears a bit.
Doesn’t like you doing any heavy lifting and always either offers to do it for you or, as if he read your mind, goes ahead and does it for you.
Would probably try some of your pregnancy craving foods - some of them he liked, others, well he tried not to judge you too hard for your choices.
His arm is always wrapped around your waist, hand wresting on your bump, especially when you’re out somewhere; it makes him feel less anxious knowing your beside him, so he knows you’re safe.
Doesn’t really mind what gender the baby would be, hasn’t really given it much thought.
If he was deployed when you gave birth, he’d be fighting tooth and nail to get back to you.
Doesn’t let the baby go when he does - would lay next to you in bed on his back with the baby on his chest.
Does that a lot actually - you’d walk into the living room and he’d be out cold, baby sleeping away on his chest, bundled in their little blankets.
Honestly would be the best Dad
König
Similarly to Ghost, he's petrified.
He's thought about settling down one day, living the white picket fence life, having a few kids - but he rationally knew that it probably wouldn't happen like that.
As soon as you tell him that you're pregnant, he has to sit down otherwise he'd probably faint.
He's terrified of hurting you or the baby with his strength, so he'd probably close himself off for a bit to think.
Cries when he sees the scan pictures of the baby for the first time - his child.
I reckon he's still very close to his family, namely his Mother, back home and so he'd be trying to figure out the best way to tell her that she's going to be a Grandmother.
His heart melts when he sees the little baby outfits you'd picked out - the little soft-soled shoes look even smaller in the palm of his hand.
He was already protective of you before but the bigger your bump gets, the more he's practically glued to your hip.
Always worries about you when he gets deployed - he's even more vicious and calculative on the field now that he knows that he has to make it home to you and the baby.
When you go into labour, he almost has a panic attack.
He's practically running around the house trying to find the maternity bag -- it was under the bed.
Holds your hand the entire time, doesn't complain at all when you practically crush his hand during contractions.
He's almost scared to hold the baby once they're born; the Nurse hands them over to him, swaddled in their little blankets, and he handles them like they're made of glass.
Starts sobbing when he notices that they have his eyes.
His heart is so full.
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letoasai · 5 months
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dp x dc Chronos part 5
Part 1 - Previous - Master list
Diana was furious. 
She’d known her young uncle for only a handful of hours but here she was, ready to go to war for him. Perhaps that was what her grandfather had meant earlier, his words still ringing in her ears. 
I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn now but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.
Perhaps it was less an illusion and more her grandfather merely knowing ahead of time how she would react. If Danny was to be believed – and he did seem such a trustworthy boy – his Clockwork knew every path one could take. 
She knew there were still questions to be asked, but Danny had been able to tell her a great deal before his eyes began to droop and she insisted he try to sleep. The curtains to the room had been left open and she watched as his eyes happily glazed over at the sight of open space before him. It had only taken minutes for him to fall asleep. 
Now she had a lot of work to do and she planned to get as much done while Danny slept as she could. 
She entered the conference room with a quick stride, many members already present for the meeting she had ordered via text. They’d learned that some equipment didn’t work well around Danny. Visuals were blurry at best and audio crackled into something indistinguishable. Diana had instead been texting information to Bruce and Kal to look into while she focused on the boy. 
“Were you able to find anything?” She asked immediately, not elaborating on which fact she was talking about. She’d sent them so many little snippets that she didn’t really care where they started. 
Batman just grunted, and despite wearing his cowl, she could see just how unhappy he was. 
“You’re not going to like it, but you expected that.” Superman said, papers laid out in front of him. He wasn’t the only one doing his research. 
Green Lantern and Flash were still there, the latter looking like he was having an existential crisis over the topic of ghosts. 
Martian Manhunter had also arrived, his frown informing her that the others had caught him up on what had been happening. 
“Can we confirm the truth as Danny has laid it out for us?” She asked, taking a seat. 
“Oh, yeah.” Hal muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Constantine will arrive later, but he could confirm the new High King of the Infinite Realm went by Phantom. Never heard him sound so horrified as him learning that someone had punched a hole into another realm in their house though. Inter-dimensional war crimes on our end are stacking up.” 
“Our end?” She asked. 
“The GIW…” Bruce began, sounding a mixture of exhausted and livid. “Are completely out of their depth and did not have the authority to just name a species unidentified to the rest of us as non-sentient. If the Infinite Realm retaliates, and John thinks it’s a possibility, it won’t just be aimed at the GIW alone but the entire dimension. That makes this more of a mess for us to clean up than it already was.” 
They’d already decided to help, that was what they did. But there was a difference in lending a hand and righting a wrong and taking responsibility for someone else’s fuck ups because they had to. 
“Can we prove it?” Diana asked. 
“Absolutely.” Kal nodded. “Honestly, for a government agency, their security is a joke. There was a backdoor already in place. We can ask Danny about that later.”
Diana nodded, certain the information would be good in his hands. She turned her attention back to Bruce. “The Fentons?” 
There was a certain level of disgust that tried to choke her out in that situation. Danny had been so hesitant, the betrayal fresh and painful. She had lived in the World of Men for a long time now and it had as many delights as it did drawbacks, but to learn what Danny’s parents had attempted to do to him left her burning to seek them out herself. 
His mother had lost her privilege to refer to herself as such.
She didn’t care what the circumstances were. Capture and torture with the intentions of vivisection was inexcusable. The target being a child made it all the more heinous. Diana knew Batman would understand without her saying a word. 
“Run of the mill mad scientists. They might have been onto something once when it came to energy but their bias took over. Even if they had been correct about ecto-entities, their language is incredibly inappropriate. No licenced and competent science journal would be associated with that.” He stared at her unhappily. “They’re lunatics. The fact that their children grew up in their home is outrageous.” He hit a button on the remote and a location appeared on the computer screens. 
A bricked house on a street corner, enormous Fenton Works sign taking up most of the front. It was an eyesore, but not as much as the sci-fi looking shuttle sticking out of the roof. The OHSA violations alone should have had the building condemned and there was no way permits had been granted for any of that construction. 
It was a supervillain's dream and not the least bit subtle. It should have been a crime in itself for the town to allow it to remain in a residential area and was shocking that no calls to Child Protective Services had been made. 
Yes, Danny was an exceptional being, but Diana understood now all the likely scenarios where he could have died in that house. Danny had called his death an accident, but she wasn’t so certain about that. “They were the ones to hurt him.” Diana said, hating how her throat was tight. She was already emotionally compromised. 
“Yes, i know.” 
Diana’s attention snapped back to him. “How?” 
“Simple reasoning. They are unstable ghost hunters with questionable science. Danny was removed from his home for his safety. Chronos said he needed a guardian. That doesn’t paint a pretty picture.” Bruce muttered. “Either his guardians couldn’t care for him, or shouldn’t care for him.” 
She felt her shoulders relax somewhat, knowing that such a logical conclusion should have occurred to her too. She really was worried about Danny’s recovery. “We can add it to the file i know you’ve created, but i’d prefer if no one asked him about that at this time. This last attack only happened several days ago and it is still fresh on his mind.” 
Bruce’s eyes narrowed, always a hound when it came to sniffing out abused kids. “This last attack?” 
“They’ve been after him for a while.” Diana hummed, though she’d only had a vague example or two since Danny hadn’t wanted to get into it. She couldn’t imagine how he’d just returned home every day to parents who tried to capture his other persona. 
“We must factor in his identity.” Martian Manhunter approached them, having been listening. J’onn had been doing his own research the last several hours. He laid down a startlingly clear picture of Danny in his white haired ghost form. A print out of an Amity Park newspaper article. 
“What is that?” Bruce frowned, sliding it closer to read. 
“The hero of Amity Park. Phantom. The articles are biased and unfavorable, but that is not the current accepted public opinion. Phantom protects the living from ghosts. He also protects the ghosts from the ghost hunters.” J’onn explained, voice carefully neutral. “Phantom appearing other places, perhaps shouldn’t coincide with where Daniel Fenton ends up.” 
“A name change could be warranted. If that’s what he wants.” Bruce adds. 
J’onn gave a single nod. “It’s a great deal of pressure on one teenager's shoulders. Being a king of a realm on top of that…” 
It was silently agreed upon that Danny deserved this break and Diana was going to get it for him.
“It was only a matter of time before something had to give.” Diana said, turning enough to speak to everyone in the room. “Well he won’t be dealing with all of that alone now. We start with dismantling the GIW, appealing the Anti-Ecto Acts, and smoothing over our relations with the Infinite Realm.” 
“Only that much, huh?” Flash muttered, trying to wrap his head around the science of ghost hunting. 
“Why not get some of the kids involved. Young Justice, maybe?” Hal was rubbing his eyes, not looking forward to the consequences of this mess. “Once he heals it might do him some good to be around others closer to his own age. People he wouldn’t need to hide half of himself from.”
When put like that, Diana could only agree. 
“I’ll mention it to him.” “I’ll get the information i have to Lois.” Clark said, sliding his papers into a binder. “If public opinion of Phantom is already decent in Amity Park, then we’ll up the exposure to put pressure on our oblivious government.” 
“I’ll take a few of the GIW facilities.” Bruce muttered, but he had that familiar tone that said he was about to let his children go buck wild. “A little recon…” he added vaguely. 
Before anyone else could put in their own two cents, the sensors went off, exactly how they had before Chronos had arrived. A paranormal knock of sorts before the very air seemed to split in two, a glowing green portal building around it. 
“Here we go again.” Barry muttered, each of them surrounding the portal as they’d done early for safety’s sake but they were less inclined to fight immediately. 
As J’onn was seeing it for the first time, he remained near Diana, keenly watching the portal manifest. It wasn’t Chronos who stepped out though, it wasn’t human at all. 
From the portal stepped a creature that Diana didn’t have the name for. Bipedal, humanoid, but beast like in appearance. Horns on his head and spikes from his tail made of ice were noticed secondary to his arm of ice that still encased his bones inside. His fur was white, his claws could easily kill and he was covered by a kilt and cape. 
What gave Diana pause as the bag slung over one shoulder, the tell tale signs of a medical cross across the front. 
“Who are you?” Superman asked, more polite than their earlier run in with her grandfather. 
The creature, a ghost presumably, held himself rigid. He was doing a great deal to make himself appear smaller then he was but his gaze was assessing. He was ready to fight if necessary. 
“I am here for His Majesty, the Great One.” Was his response. 
Diana stepped forward, deciding this was exactly what she suspected. “I am Diana. Granddaughter of Chronos who Danny fondly calls Clockwork. You are Frostbite, come to check on Danny, yes?” 
All of his attention was on her now, but he seemed to see what he wanted in her after locking eyes. “I am. Frostbite, Ruler of the Infinite Realm’s Far Frozen. I have come to see Our Savior the King, as his primary physician.”
“He’s a doctor.” Flash whispered. 
“Fascinating.” J’onn muttered, sounding a little winded by whatever he was sensing. “He is who he claims.” 
“I’m relieved.” Diana muttered, approaching him with a smile this time. “Please come with me and i will take you to Danny. I’m afraid we did what we could but his unique biology left us questioning our choices. He is resting in a private room.” 
“Did something happen to setback his recovery?” Frostbite asked, serious over the care of his charge as he followed Wonder Woman out of the conference room without so much as a glance back at the other heros. 
“Excitement, i believe.” Diana offered. “He may have been a little too excited to show off his alternate, living form and seemed to forget his condition.” 
Frostbite actually snorted. “Sounds like him.”
“I did not realize how badly wounded he was. We had been talking about our arrangements and he was answering my questions about ghosts. He appeared sore, but fairly pleased to speak with me. Given what he had just been through…” 
Frostbite grunted his agreement. “His heart is soft, but his will is unlike anything i have ever known. Many of us saw this tragedy coming, but he insisted on seeing it out for himself, hoping for a favorable ending.” 
Diana cracked her knuckles out of habit, that anger still simmering. “He will be safe in my care, i assure you.”
“The Great One is the rightful King to our realm, but many forget he is still just a child.” Frostbite said, eyeing her even as she led him through the Watchtower. 
“It is not something i am likely to forget.” Not after she’d seen how small he was in their medbay bed. “He’s resting but weak, you can help?” 
“As long as he has not taken more damage, i’m sure i can.” Frostbite said, a gentleness to his voice as they stopped at Danny’s room. Diana went in first to prove the area was a safe one but that may not have mattered given how quickly Frostbite followed her. 
He was at Danny’s bedside in an instant, having somehow moved passed her without knocking into her. He could have gone through her for all she knew. For all he seemed to be a hulking beast, Frostbite was nothing but gentle as he examined Danny. He looked over any and all work that had been done to Danny since his arrival, and checked the bandages across his torso. He went as far as to grab the clipboard on the foot of Danny’s bed to read, having no trouble understanding the medical jargon. 
From his medical bag, he pulled out several small bottles, all of them growing a toxic green. Injections were given to the teenager, and it didn’t seem to matter that he was in his living, dark haired form. 
“Has he explained to you what it means to be a halfa?” Frostbite finally asked, breaking the silence. 
“Only in vague, teenager terms.” Diana said. She’d been quite sure that Danny’s flippant attitude was more a coping mechanism than anything.
Frostbite just hummed. “Then i will have to fill you in.”
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u3pxx · 4 months
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💛🕊️ Five times Aziraphale gave Crowley a gift plus one time Crowley gave a gift in return.
DID YOU KNOW THAT @contritecactite, once again, wrote a VERY GOOD fic about my bad omens spouses??? and it's so wonderfully GOOD???!?!?!!
anywhooo, a very big special thanks again to elle for writing this! it's been just a real treat talking to them and the klapollomb gomens s2 support group about bad omens 🥺 i'm really, really thankful that y'all decided to indulge me and my freakingg swap au wheezes <33
i'm gonna cut myself off here and ramble more under keep reading :0]
like these drawings? they're prints, here! | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!
seeing this get written was an experience! one of the things keeping me alive during prelim exams LOL if i remember correctly, this kind of started bc i was curious if bomens zira would actually have, i guess, a real demon equivalent the way shax (stork), beelzebub (fly), and furfur (deer) do. so i looked up the words 'crow demon' and whaddya know!
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a crow demon!! and what's that? "cause Love"?
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what a perfect fit for demon!aziraphale! and really, i was only messing around the first time i had the idea of "haha lol wouldn't it be funny if demon aziraphale was a crow", and then bam! all of it started to, surprisingly, fit well together pfttt (special thanks to bepo for being the one to piece it all together wheezes <33) (also, just really thank you all for bouncing ideas with me, it really does make me happy dfgdhjd <3333)
and then elle wrote a little snippet at first (IIRC) and then he just feakign!!!!!!! WOAGH!!!!!!! just, tasty delicious words, a fic that made me kick my feet like i was a schoolgirl while reading the whole thing ASKSKS <333
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i'm really happy with all the spot art i drew for this! wanted it to look very uhhh, i wouldn't say storybook, but watercolor illustrations were definitely a huge inspiration! i wanted them to feel as nice and cozy as YOU would feel while reading elle's fic <3
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i do gotta thank elle again for making these two fem-presenting when they were at the dowlings' bc then i get to draw butch gardener crowley. do you know how much that means to me? do you know do you do y do you know how m how much that how m b butches butches butches .
and a little bonus, one where crowley did not want to pose for the painting PFTT
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i am once again putting the link here if you've scrolled this far down without reading it yet, go! go! go!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!!! <3333
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The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform
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A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!
Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.
(Not beta read!)
You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.
It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.
People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.
So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.
You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.
"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"
Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.
But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.
It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"
Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.
You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.
"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.
Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.
He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.
"Yep!"
Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.
A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.
Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.
"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.
You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.
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roxineedstosleep · 3 months
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Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Hi there!!!
First of all: Thank you sweetie!
It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!
But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.
So… here goes!
(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)
Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.
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Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.
It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.
Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.
Having multiple siblings was new.
Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.
It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.
Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.
But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.
You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!
New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.
After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.
Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.
What to do?
Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.
What does that entail?
It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.
Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.
That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.
(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).
Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.
Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.
Do you see any privacy in this?
No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.
The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.
As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.
So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?
No kidding, how?
And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.
It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!
What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!
You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?
I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.
And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.
Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.
And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.
But that's not the point.
The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.
You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.
Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.
It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.
The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.
I insist, you did not hide anything.
But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.
First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.
Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.
Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.
Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.
NO matter.
At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.
Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.
Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.
Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.
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