#Shitty housewife gift

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x female reader

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

[ashdreams2023]

Hi! Am new here, when you have the time, can you write lucius malfoy x crybaby housewife, like shes very sensitive and overthinks about making him upset but in reality lucius finds her little actions and mannurisms cute and lovable? (Ik its very specific and i have horrible grammar)

Been a hot minute since I wrote for hp thanks for the ask!

Lucius Malfoy x crybaby housewife (sensitive)

First off this marriage was arranged so you got that going on

He can tell immediately that you feel extremely nervous and just want to make everybody proud and don’t want to upset him

He finds in endearing

"Beautiful beautiful girl relax, it’s only a few days in France, I will be back in one piece"

You worry too much it makes him worried

Sends you lots of gifts, like what’s your favorite Candy that makes your face eyes light up with excitement?

You will find boxes delivered to the house till you’re sick of it

Doesn’t like to see your tears but understands how overwhelming it may be to try to contain all your emotions

Tries to never raise his voice at you even if he’s not in the brightest of moods

Your little acts of kindness to him do leave him breathless at times though

"What do you mean you fed the peacocks and picked all the fallen feathers to make pillows?!"

"I knew you’ll hate I’m so sorry-" "No! I love it!"

He really likes to spoil you, so expect things like taking a day or two off from work to just spend extra time with when he notices you’ve been a little gloomy all alone at home

Goodness even the house elves have to make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself when something doesn’t go as planned

If you remember the small things about him, the things no one really pays attention too, then he’s all yours and no one can say otherwise

Makes sure to spend birthdays together, no matter how busy he is

"You don’t have to do this, what about work and-" "stop hurting your pretty little head with such nonsense"

Actually tries to be decent to the house elves just because they seem to be the only company you have

One time you tried to surprise him at work and he just couldn’t let you leave because in his own words "you came all this way to surprise and you expect me to let you go away this easily my dear?"

The way you smile when he comes back to the mansion, it just lights up his entire day, no matter how shitty is was

Absolutely adores your antics and takes pride in seeing you being the center of attention

"Am i making a good impression?"

"You’re perfection it self"

#lucius malfoy x y/n #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #lucius malfoy x reader #imagine #lucius malfoy #harry potter oneshot #harry potter requests #lucius my beloved

[archangeldyke-all]

masterlist :)

hi babies <3 here's my masterlist! i'll try to keep this as up to date as possible!

sevika and her chihuahua 🐕

cockwarming sev while she works

making sev lunches

flustering sevika

5 ways you drive sevika wild

sevika and your plushies

office crush sev

soft sex with sev

relationship hcs/ chasekink

sevika dating a younger girl

simp sev!!!

sev comforting you when you're overwhelmed in the bedroom

semi-public hard but loving sex

simp sev being sexy

tattoo artist sev!

sevika as a gf hcs

controlling a vibe sevika's wearing ;)

cuddling with sev

even more simp sevika because shes the loml

passionate sex with sev

tattoo artist sev pt. 2

librarian sevika

ex sevika

sevika crushing on you

lighting her cigars for her

sevika's insecurities

sevika with a rambling reader

gymfluencer sevika

gangster reader

boxer sev and PT reader

more cuddles with sev

jealous sevika

sugar mommy sevika and virgin reader

butch 4 butch sev!!

having her baby 👶

firefighter sev and emt reader

sevika comforting you

virgin sevika

surprising sevika with a buttplug

modern sevika clubbing

more sugar mommy sevika

dirty talk ;)

spit kink sevika

blind date meet cute

jealous reader

soft reader

friends with benefits who both want more

stone top sevika

virgin reader and virgin sevika

gym crush sevika

player reader falling for sevika

sevika reassuring reader she'd never cheat

omegaverse sev

buttstuff with sevika

bodyguard sevika

sub sev with a tall reader

sevika's reactions to nudes

cuddling in the winter

sevika in her first stable relationship

vigilante sevika x journalist reader

mechanic sevika

bodyguard sevika pt. 2

that is NOT a lighter lmao

sevika making virgin reader squirt

sevika with her reading glasses

corruption kink sev ;)

wearing funny boxers around sev

making sevika squirt

blue collar sev and her housewife

ovulating with sevika

sevika with a sweetheart reader

sleepover with sev

sevika biting u while she's going down on you

drunk sevika

sevika comforting u on ur period

doing sevika's hair

sevika fucking you against the wall

wedding day hcs!!!

sevika finding your sketches of her

sev with a housewife kink

rough sex while holding hands :,)

sevika's reaction to her secret santa gift

busty reader hcs

softie sev

somno with sev

small breasted reader

sevika sending u nudes

sevika w/ a sex repulsed reader

mermaid reader and pirate sev :)

co-stars who are actually in love

sevika's strap hcs

sub sevika

sevika calling sub reader mommy

new years traditions with sev

basketball coach sev and volleyball coach reader

spanish speaking reader

reader who's taller and stronger than sev

sevika calling sub reader mommy pt. 2

reader with shitty parents

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #soft sevika #sevika smut

[intuitivesef]

Your future spouse’s main love language

Pick a card reading

Don’t second guess yourself when choosing a card. Trust your intuition.

Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.

Credit for dividers: delishlydelightfuldividers

Masterlist

Pile 1:

Gifts.

Your future spouse's main love language is gifting. They like to receive gifts and spoil you with them as well. Now, I keep hearing about material possession. The thing is, they aren’t focused on luxurious items. If you were to give it to them, they would cherish it with their hearts, but if you gave them something else like a teddy bear, they would cherish it the same. When you buy them something, their heart will flutter because it reminds you of them. So many goosebumps and butterflies.

How do they express this love language?

I can see someone buying their lover something cute for valentines. I see chocolate, a teddy bear, and roses, the cliché gift of valentines, but there is also a mystery gift. So they like to gift you the everyday traditional things in love, but they also like surprising you with fancy things. I heard fancy luxurious items. Not like Gucci or Louis Vuitton, but I’d say a fancy item from their heart. Are you catching on? They like making you gifts that come from the heart. They’ll make you craft items, clothes, jewelry, etc. They will also go big with their presents. So for example, it's your birthday? Expect them to go wild. Flower petals at the entrance of the door coming to the bedroom. Candlelight dinner. Anything romantic they can find or buy. I won't spoil the surprise for you.

Songs that resonated with this reading:

It's Gonna Be Me – NYSC

want to give me tips, thank me, pay me, etc for my channeled readings? -> $intuitivesef - thanks :)

Pile 2:

Gifts and Acts of Service

We are talking about one main love language and yet I channeled two, so this pile’s lover is so open about their love about you with everyone. That explains why I channeled two and questioned it. They like spending their money on you and doing things for you. For example, they will take you to a fancy restaurant, pay for it, then buy you something you like, then do something else, etc. This truly is an endless loop of love. I cannot express this enough, but this isn’t a red flag where they will change their personality within seconds (this is a confirmation for someone with doubts or feels like they aren’t worthy of it. One thing, why? You’re worthy of so much love, understood)? It’s just they had a shitty childhood, learned to become better than their guardians, healed from the situation, and made peace with it. They’re into PDA (public display of affection) and holding hands are prominent.

How do they express this love language?

If you want something then they will buy it for you in an instant. I see them taking care of you physically and mentally. Prioritizing your feelings and theirs in the relationship. This relationship will never be one sided. They will do the chores too. They take things like this seriously. If you feel connected to having a feminine body then don’t expect to be a housewife or do all the chores. “Who the fuck said you’re doing that? Traditional roles? No. it’s a 50/50 relationship. I know not everything can be 50/50, but as long as we’re working hard to make this relationship work then don’t expect that bullshit from me. If you really want that… then I don’t think I can do that. It will make me feel shameful and hurt.” I’m picking up a sad shift. They have a sad energy saying this. Makes me sad to write the last part but I won’t lie to you to keep you from being sad. I can’t see them allowing traditional roles to be prominent in the relationship regardless of their gender.

Songs that resonated with this reading:

A Girl Worth Fighting For – Mulan

want to give me tips, thank me, pay me, etc for my channeled readings? -> $intuitivesef - thanks :)

Pile 3:

Physical touch

Your future spouse's main love language is physical touch. I keep hearing, “touch, touch, touch,” and I see a lot of kissing. They’re very expressive with their love for you so expect a lot of make out sessions. Yeah, I mean.. a lot. Good luck. If you were to kiss them out of nowhere, expect them to get flustered. A red face and a big smile are what I’m picking up. They definitely like stealing a small glance at you for no reason. Looking at you for no reason. I truly feel this person is like, hmm, why don’t I just make you flustered or make you kiss me unexpectedly. They like your lips and I’m hearing it’s a turn on. If you kissed their knuckle or hand, omg.. they died. The energy I’m feeling is literally so cute right now. “THEY KISSED ME. THEY KISSED. FUCK FUCK WHAT DO I DO. HEEEEEEE, MY FACE, CALM UR FACE, CALM IT, AND DON’T SHOW A REACTION. I REPEAT DON’T SHOW A REACTION AND JUST ACT UNBOTHERED.” Well, I hope you kiss their hand or knuckle every second because this is cute. Do it while remaining eye contact and they will truly explode.

How do they express this love language?

As mentioned before, they are very touchy and they like to kiss you, so expect kisses everywhere. Forehead, cheeks, hands, neck, etc. I’m not really picking up PDA (public display of affection), but it’s like they prefer to show this love to you in private. “I’m not letting anyone and I MEAN ANYONE jinx my love for you twinkle dinx.. HAHA, I’m sorry. I’m joking. Princess/prince is what I meant.” They obviously like bantering (joking) around with you. This adds to what I see. I see playful physical touch. I also can see someone coming behind to their future spouse and hugging them around their waist. Both of you are enjoying this moment and they whisper a funny joke in your ear. Ruining the moment in the best possible way because you’re both laughing so bad. I do see you choking on your salvia though, so expect a lot of laughs.

Songs that resonated with this reading:

Colony – Isaac Dunbar

Bleeding love - Leona Lewis

want to give me tips, thank me, pay me, etc for my channeled readings? -> $intuitivesef - thanks :)

#pick an image #pick a picture #pick a number #pick a photo #channel messages #pick a card reading #pick a photo reading #pick a image reading #reading #tarot card #free tarot reading #free readings #free intuitive readings #future reading #intution #intutive #intuitive readings #pick a side #pick a card #channeling #channeled message #psychic #psychic readings #present readings #readings #future spouse #tarot future spouse #fs pac #fs pics #timeless reading

[alittlesil]

wait a second

Kit Walker x Fem!Reader 💓

a/n: finally something new on my acc😭 i don’t like this imagine much but it’s still not bad (i hope lol)

summary: you and Kit was waiting for intimacy for too long and finally gave in 🍀

warnings: 18+ MDNI, not proofed😔 p in v, overstimulation (m receiving), whiny Kit (also SHITTY WRITING BC ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE)

(pic from pinterest)

Not a while ago you and your amazing, caring, soft, loving husband had finally married. You got money as gifts and decided to do a repair in your little house, so you had to move in the bigger house of your sister for some time, just before the repair end. 

You adore your sister. Really. She always was so cute ans funny, and she always knew how to help you, and nothing changes: she’s still amazing and she still always helps. Her house is much bigger than yours with Kit, so there’s enough place for everyone. What problems can be here?

Oh, your sister is a housewife. She’s always at home. And her kids.

You and Kit held on as best you could. You both understood that you can’t have sex while you were just “visiting” the family of your sister, especially when half of it was always at home. The kids were to young for school, your sister was to busy to hang out with some of her friends even once in two weeks. 

But one day, when your sister’s husband took their kids for a walk, and your sister was cooking dinner, watching TV loudly, your temper ended…

“Shhh, shhh, shhh.” Kit whispers, while his own breath hitches in his throat, as he pulls his whole length in and you squeak. You sit on top of him, your hands on his broad chest. He tries his best not to moan out loud, biting his lower lip and squeezing his eyes shut. The feeling is too overwhelming for both of you: after three weeks of no contact at all, it was like your first time together. You tilt your head downwards, trying to contain moans, but one desperate whine still falls down from your lips, and Kit quickly covers your mouth with his large hand, squeezing your cheeks as he does. This roughness from your usually sweet husband makes you even more aroused, and you start to move your hips just to make some friction, but Kit’s free hand grabs your rear to stop you. He leans in closer to your ear, his eyes closed: he breaths deeply in attempts to calm down.

“You-“ A heavy huff. “Wait, sweet one- i have to-“

You mumble something under his hand, and when his grip becomes lighter and his head weakly falls onto your shoulder, you can’t contain yourself anymore. Your core clenching around his cock desperately, aching for some movements, and it makes Kit whine as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, moaning quietly against your hot skin. He loses all his strength at this moment, and you start to bounce on him again, making your poor husband gasp in shock. This delicious feeling of his finally moving dick inside of your pussy sends a shiver down your spine, all of your moans muffling because of his grip onto your face, and it’s so. fucking. good. 

“Suga’, wait a second-“ Kit literally begs, taking all his powers to stay as quiet as he could. He knows that if you continue, he’s gonna cum right now and right here, without any usually long fun. “I can’t freakin’ hold it-“

But it’s too late. You were waiting too long, and now there’s no way back: you increase the speed of your movements, gripping onto his shoulders, and your hands already start to shake because of overwhelming pleasure. Your whole body is on fire, and you feel familiar knot in your stomach starting to appear, as Kit suddenly moans loudly, completely forgetting about his words about staying quiet. He cums after only one minute of your movements, the warm sticky liquid covers your walls, and you almost roll your eyes as you missed this feeling so much. He whines, nibbling on your shoulder, as he tries to muffle his desperate noises but fails when he feels that you continue moving even after his release, milking him. 

“Honey, please-“ Kit whimpers pathetically, his overstimulated but still hard cock already ached. He puts his hand away from your mouth, placing both of them on your ass, trying to slow your hips down. “Too much!”

“Kit, i’m begging you-“ You gasp, finally able to moan properly, tugging onto his soft brown hair and making him growl quietly. “I need it.” These words slip down your lips with whimper, and you ride him as if your life depends on it. He breaths heavily under you, the pain mixes with pleasure of how lovely it feels to be inside of your tight walls after all and, oh my God, to cum inside of them.

He brings his slender fingers to your clit, starting to rub on it in circles motion with his thumb, and you can swear you see stars. After a few seconds you feel the rush of heat, and your legs start to shake as you reach your peak. Your pussy clenches around Kit’s already semi-hard cock, and he moans as loud as he never has moaned, and you can’t really understand: was it the sound of pain or of satisfaction? He quickly lifts you up from him, almost throwing you onto the mattress, and collapses on top of you, his body goes almost limp. His face buried in the crook of your neck again, and his hot shaky breath hits your sweaty skin.

“I freakin’ love ya.” Kit mumbles under his breath, placing soft and tender kisses on your collarbone, and you slip your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp in a soothing manner.

“I love you more.” You smile tiredly, kissing the top of his head.

—————————————

a/n: thx for reading ♥️

#american horror story #ahs fandom #kit walker #kit walker smut #kit walker x reader #kit walker x you #kit walker x y/n #evan peters fanfic #ahs fanfic #fanfiction #kit walker imagine #kit walker fanfic #writing #kai anderson #tate langdon

[creedslove]

✨HEADCANON MASTERLIST - TWO ✨

RULES FOR REQUESTING

• please read the rules before requesting your headcanon HERE

MAIN MASTERLIST

• (series and one shots) HERE

HEADCANON MASTERLIST #1

• part one of my headcanons HERE

✨ AGENT WHISKEY

• Whiskey taking care of you during a painful period

• Being undercover as a married couple with Agent Whiskey

• Random sex headcanons

• Whiskey hitting on you

• Spending Christmas with Whiskey

✨ DAVE YORK

• Dave being turned on by the smallest things you do

• Cockwarming with Dave

• Sex with Dave

• Lazy weekend sex with Dave

• Dave York + pregnancy

• Dave York + actress!reader

• Dave asking you to have a baby with him

• Running into Dave at a cemetery on a Halloween night

• Dave needs to kill you but develops a soft spot for you

• Waking up to Dave on Christmas morning

✨JAVI GUTIERREZ

• Having a baby with Javi G

✨ JAVIER PEÑA

• Javier is mean to everyone, except you

• Javier asks you to leave even if you are pregnant to protect you from Los Pepes

• Javier coming back to Laredo to go to your wedding

• Fucking Javier when he's in his vest

• Taking care of Javier when he is hurt

• Marriage crisis

• Javier reacting to reader in danger

• Javier dating a young school teacher in Laredo

• Javier losing you after being a shitty boyfriend

•Javier losing you after being a shitty boyfriend (part two)

• Javier as a biker

• Javier + your birthday

• Javier falling for you as you're a stripper

• Javier running into you after abandoning you at the altar

• Your friend flirts with Javier because she thinks she's better than you

• Javier flirting with you at the bar

• Dressing up for Javi on Halloween

• Javier arresting you for breaking into an abandoned mall on Halloween

• Javier taking care of his toddler when she's sick

• Javi soothing you

✨ JOEL MILLER

• Joel asking if your baby is actually his

• Joel is only soft with you

• How would Joel react to you gifting him a new guitar

• How Joel would react to you getting your masters degree

• Dating Joel and having an age gap

• Joel making reader squirt

• Joel gets grumpy after it starts raining

• Celebrating Joel's birthday

• Shower sex with Joel

• Joel using the shower head on you

• Going to the beach with Joel

• Joel has a hard time saying 'I love you'

• Joel being soft during your period

• Teasing Joel at the gym

• Joel winning a stuffed animal at a festival

• Joel bonding with you over hearing loss

• Joel having a soft spot for reader and seeing she isn't well

• Joel falling for reader who has more money than him

• Joel helps you when nobody comes to your Halloween party

• Joel's hair ❤️‍🔥

• Joel's hands ❤️‍🔥

• Joel rescuing you

• Joel takes the kids to the amusement park while you're sick in bed

• Being Joel's girl at the Boston QZ

• Joel saving you from a guy hitting on you at a bar

• Joel's reaction when you adopt a kitty

• Joel breaks up because he doesn't want to fall in love with you

• Jealous Joel

• Joel taking you home when you're too drunk to drive

• Joel when some guy hits on you at a Halloween party

• You and Joel behave like a married couple

• Cheating on your husband with Joel

• Putting Joel's picture in a locket

• Joel keeping you warm

• Joel waiting for you to finish your skin care routine

• Joel meeting your family for the first time

• Joel during your PMS

• Joel celebrating your birthday

• Joel's thighs

• Joel fucking you so good

• Joel seeing you ride a mechanic bull and growing hard

• Joel being jealous of you

• You being insecure to date Joel

• Joel dressed up as Santa Claus

✨ MARCUS PIKE

• Kinds of dates Marcus takes you on

• Being railed by Marcus

• Marcus forgetting about his own birthday

• Marcus having a housewife kink

• Marcus is a girl dad

• Marcus holding his baby daughter for the first time

• Marcus and reader falling in love at university

• Marcus Pike with a lactation kink

• Marcus being a boy dad

• Marcus falls for his wedding planner

• Marcus dating an artist

• Marcus and his baby daughter

✨ MULTI CHARACTER HEADCANONS

• They take you to the movies

• What kind of genre of movies they like

• Are they more of a dog or cat person?

• Encouraging words from them

• Arguing and making up with them

#pedro pascal #javier peña #joel miller #agent whiskey #marcus pike #dave york #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña x reader #joel miller x reader #agent whiskey x reader #marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #pedro pascal headcanons #marcus pike headcanons #joel miller headcanons #dave york headcanons #javier peña headcanons #agent whiskey headcanons

[yaeran]

Hi! Could you please write headcanons for Ran with reader who is his housewife? Please and thank you

from aya: LOVE THIS!! thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy this writing~ love ran sm<3

he can get pretty possessive of you so he likes knowing you’re at home.

you’re probably the only person who can tell him what to do. catch some gang members asking you to tell ran to do something for their advantage—

since you both moved in together he’s been missing on work more often.

imagine, ran coming home all bruised up but he still enters with a sarcastic “im home ynnie!” and slides to the living room where you’d be and he just slowly sinks into your touch.

~~ “is it painful?” “yea sort of.” “go get the first aid kit.”

honestly there’s a high chance he’s a shitty cooker. but on the days he’s free, notably weekends he tries making breakfasts in bed. i just imagine it’s a piece of toast.

you know his typical schedule. you have it memorised since this guy cant wake up on his own. he literally needs to be kicked out of bed to start his day.

he just loves how free you are and he loves his bed so being in bed for more hours than you should—

on the night you both have a hard time sleeping he hums songs as he fidgets with your wedding ring.

he carries you bridal style around the house and sways to the music coming from us rickety old cassette player. he def listens to either heavy metal or alt songs. no in between.

he gets extremely excited when you cook his favourite food. would try to make it home early. he comes back in the house asking sing songily, “what’s the food ynnie?” as he’s started a slow dance session with you in the middle of the house.

but also when he doesn’t like the food he comes home a bit less willing.

he always tries to enter home quietly so that he can give you surprise attacks. often it’s so that he can give you gifts. on the times he’s can’t even be home he sends gifts via mail just so that you know he’s always with you.

he knows you trust him but one the nights he comes home extremely late he’ll message you.

4:37am ran: coming home at 7. idk if it’s am or pm but that’s the est. lol. (he’s extremely tired)

11:23pm ran: hi yn. sleep well okay. idk if i’m coming home tonight but i’ll be there when you’re awake.

he doesn’t know how to be sincere sometimes but he tries to be sweet for you.

#+new spice for you! #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x you #ran x reader #ran #ran haitani x you #tr ran

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Brotherhood

Joel and Tommy

Told in third person.

Part of The Wrong Way series, a bonus chapter I dedicate to @the-fox-den <3 we were chatting about joel and tommy and i expressed regret i never went into their relationship more, and they said 'you still can!'

Summary: Told in two parts. First is a night on the porch at a none descript time between Joel killing Nick and Tommy leaving, and then at 7 months into Little One's pregnancy, Tommy and Joel think about their relationship as brothers, and how Sarah death and Little One's emergence in their lives have shifted dynamics.

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Usual warnings apply, but add in alcohol consumption.

********************

Tommy sat on the porch in the dim light of the lamp, barely lit by their shitty generator but getting the job done. A cup of moonshine in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and the pack of cigs and moonshine jar at his side. Tommy was glad he had learned how to make it in high school, alcohol was hard to come by these days. Generally, Tommy preferred to be out here when Joel was with the girl; they were loud… but he didn’t want to be far, in case she called for him.

It wasn’t that he was jealous, no, that’s not it at all. He thinks. But when Tommy hears him moaning his name and screaming when she comes, he can’t help but think back to the time they were together. It was awful, really. The poor girl was terrified, shaking, and Tommy wanted to make it easier, make her feel good at least but she refused him. That was her wish of course, but the ego in him… he knew he could make her scream his name louder than Joel’s. He just knew it. Because Tommy cared about her. Not in the way Joel pretended to, not in Joel’s possessive obsession, but Tommy cared for the girl as a person. Joel had certainly been putting on a good show, maybe even fooling himself in the process with the way he brings her little treats and tells her little pieces here and there, the young, naive little girl was falling for it. Between the sex, the gifts, the way Joel bathed her and cared for her after… his violent outbursts were beginning to be lost on her, Tommy knew. She was to fucking young for all of this. 

Tommy tried his best, he really did, and he liked to think he was a friend to her. He made her laugh, he made her smile, he held her as she cried over her brother or missing her friend… he could tell her that her brother was alive… but she was so compliant, things were going well now… he couldn’t take it if she tried to run. She’d simply get caught, and brought back to be tortured and maybe even killed, because Joel didn’t love her for her. Joel's sick version of love was twisted and obsessive and treated her like a possession. When Nick raped her, Joel brutally killed him, a long and slow death, exactly what the fucker deserved. Tommy could’ve killed him, but they needed to send a message to everyone else that the girl was absolutely off limits, and the punishment was worse than death. But Joel didn’t kill him out of justice, it wasn’t for being a rapist. Tommy abhorred that, but he couldn’t deny that Joel and most of the men he worked with were too, save for a handful, like Jack or Logan. Joel didn’t kill him for that. Joel didn’t eve kill him for raping her, neccesarily. Nick was tortured to death because he touched a possession of Joel’s. That’s what mattered. Not that she was a human, but that she was his.

Tommy felt like Joel looked at him that way, sometimes. When Sarah died, his entire life motivations shifted. He was lost for a while, even trying to kill himself… and Tommy was the one left to bandage his head. Tomy wasn’t as kind as he could’ve been, he was selfish, he knew, but as he patched up his big brother, Tommy really railed into him.

‘How could you do this? How could you try to leave me?’

‘I lost Sarah too Joel, I can’t lose you and her!’

‘You were just going to leave me? Alone? I’d have no one, Joel, no one everything we knew is gone!’

Since then, Joel’s focus shifted to keeping Tommy alive. Tommy wasn’t entirely sure how much of Joel was left in there but save for that baseline, that primal instinct to protect blood. That’s how the raiding began. Joel was ruthless, and Tommy, although certainly wouldn’t be described as ruthless, got the job done. He didn’t kill women unless in self defense, and absolutely no children, that was his own rule. Joel wouldn’t kill kids. He’d orphan them, though. Every now and then, however, Joel might come across a family with a little girl. Maybe she had Sarah’s skin or her eyes, maybe so little as curly brown hair… But Tommy could see Joel hesitate. He wouldn’t leave them orphaned or absolutely helpless. 

Joel was still in there, somewhere…

The porch door opened, Joel tentatively walking outside. Joel always looked more human, more real, more vulnerable when it was just them together. He talked like anormal person, smiled sometimes, even laughed a bit on a good day.

“Hey man, can I join?” He spoke softly, the voice he always had after he was done with her… relaxed. It made Tommy uncomfortable.

“Yeah, grab a cup, i got some moonshine made up, tried making peach flavored, tell me how it is.”

Joel popped back inside to grab a cup and in a few moments, he was drinking the homemade alcohol and puffing on a cigarette Tommy gave him.

“You’re getting better at this. Yuh never even tried mak’n ‘em flavored in high school”

Tommy chuckled softly at that. “Yeah, back then it wasn’t for enjoy’n. It was for getting drunk.”

“‘Drunk’ is putt’n it lightly, but fair point.” There was a long, comfortable pause before Joel spoke again. “This is nice. I feel like I never get to see you anymore.”

Suddenly avoidant, Tommy, looked off to the side. “Yeah uh. I suppose you’ve been busy.”

“So are you, it seems” Joel snapped back.

Tommy turned to glare at Joel. “And whose fault is that? I’m not the one that kidnapped her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Joel rolled his eyes at Tommy. Another pause. “She seems to be doing better now, yeah?”

The softness in Joel’s voice when he talked about her never ceased to amaze Tommy, considering the things he did to her.

He relaxed a bit. “Yeah, she does.” The reply was honest. “Seems happier.”

“Good. Good.”

They sat together on the porch, drinking and smoking before Tommy got up to go to bed, a slight buzz going on. He drank a little more than usual, enjoying Joel’s company, although quiet. That was a thing about family, sometimes comfortable silence just worked when you’ve known each other your whole lives. Plus… Tommy missed his brother. Before he left Joel alone, Tommy turned back, hand on the door handle. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” Tommy looked at Joel, the man who’d spent his life, before and after the outbreak, taking care of him, protecting him, sitting underneath the cloudy moon light. “I know it’s been… things have been different, lately… but it’ll always be you and me, right?”

Joel looked at the floor, dodging Tommy's gaze but smiled gently, nonetheless. “Yeah, you and me. I love you too, Tommy. Don’t get sappy on me now”

*A Several Months Later*

Joel watched in the darkness, waiting for Tommy to appear. He had it on good authority that Tommy was supposed to be patrolling this path tonight; it seemed fucking that cunt Maria didn’t get him out of freezing midnight patrols. 

Tommy’s voice snuck up behind him. “So what, you’re here to kill me 6 months later?”

Casually, Joel turned around to find Tommy pointing his rifle at him. “Put the gun down, Thomas, relax.”

There was no relaxing. “What do you want? You said you’d leave me alone.”

“I said no such thing, actually. Only reason you ain’t dead is because she begged me not to.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t kill me if you wanted to.”

“I did it for her, and for Sarah.” The dark tone of his voice was a warning, a warning not to push on Sarah’s name like he did the last time they spoke… then he was back to casual. “Besides, if you think I couldn’t kill you, what are you so jumpy about?”

“I don’t wanna shoot you.” Tommy confessed. 

“So don’t. I’m not even armed. With a gun, anyway.”

“Bullshit. You ain’t been unarmed since kindergarten.”

“My gun is with my horse, quarter mile up. But right now, it’s just me, you, and several pocket knives, but those are just in case of infected. See, as much as you don’t think I can kill you, I don’t think you can kill me.”

Tommy considers for a moment. “And what’s stopping me from taking you into town, get a good old fashion pose to hang you, ending your reign of fucking terror and freeing the girl?”

“Reign of terror” Joel mumbles, chuckling to himself. “You could. But you won’t”

“Why? Why wouldn’t I? You got Lorenzo up the ready to shoot to kill?”

Joel was still smug, and way too relaxed for his position, but he knew his brother. “No, and even if I did, I don’t think Lorenzo would be much help to me. They’ve grown rather attached to each other.” Joel saw the spark of concern and… what? Jealousy? Something flitted across Tommy’s face. “Relax, Lorenzo’s…” He held out his hand, palm down, and wobbled it, and old fashioned sign for gay. “If you know what I mean. I think he reminds her of her brother, and he had a bunch of sisters, so they seem to have fun. She’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

The worry was clear and evident on his face now. “What did you do now, Joel? I know she’s pregnant.”

His laughter was one of surprise. “Oh yeah, how’d you hear that? You and Jack still keep up?”

“Word gets around.” Tommy never was a great liar.

“Relax, Tommy, I know Jack swings by. He also knows he’s dead if he uses anything against me. Now, will you put down the gun?”

Hesitantly, Tommy lowered his gun and walked toward Joel. “What do you want? I gotta get on patroll'n.”

“Gimme five minutes.” Joel reaches into his pocket, causing Tommy to raise his gun again and for Joel to mutter Jesus Christ. When Joel pulls out a cigar box, Tommy comes off the defense. “Remember back in the day? Sharing a cigar to celebrate a pregnancy?” The brother had smoked a few after Sarah was born. He hands one to Tommy.

Tentatively, he accepts it, looking worried. “She can’t have given birth already… what is she, 7 months? 8?”

“6. Knocked her up the night you left. And no, she ain’t given birth yet. Had a little scare, but it was braxton-hicks.”

Tommy lit his cigar and took a puff, blowing a ring. “You mean to say you put a baby in her instead of a bullet that night?” Tommy scoffed, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Joel lit his own cigar, enjoying it despite the clearly old taste. “I know you don’t like how I do things, but I love her, and she loves me.”

Despite his annoyance, hsi anger, Tommy didn’t argue. “Yeah. Yeah okay. You’re a happy little family and she’s trapped with you forever. Great job.”

Joel glared at Tommy. “Hey! Just because mine keeps her mouth shut and is obedient and your bitch got you freezing your ass off inthe middle of the goddamn night don’t mean I trapped her.”

“Can she leave?”

“She doesn’t want to. I know she told you Zach tried to come back-”

“Can she leave, Joel?!”

“No!”

Tommy took a long stride forward, stepping up to Joel in a rare challenge. “Then how can you act like she’s your pretty little wife when she’s still just a kidnapped child, Joel! She should be in college! She should be exploring the world and making friends, drinking cranberry vodka because that’s all she knows how to order! She should be smoking weed for the first time and getting cross faded only to ace a test the next morning-”

“That world doesn’t exist anymore, Tommy!”

“She should be learning, figuring herself out, meeting boy, Joel, BOYS, plural, and her age, not 40 year old men! She shouldn’t be kept locked away as your servant, your sex toy, or your baby machine!”

Joel stepped up to Tommy in one long stride, bringing them face to face. “THEN KILL ME TOMMY, OR TAKE ME TO JACKSON AND HAVE SOMEONE DO IT BECAUSE YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD! You think I’m so horrible, and the girl is so fucking miserable, DO IT!” Joel grabbed Tommy’s gun, pointing it straight at his chest, with Tommy’s finger on the trigger. They were eye to eye, intense brown swallowed by black pupils, the moon light reflecting off them… But Tommy couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot.“That’s what I thought.” Joel shoved him back, and began storming off in the direction of his horse.

“Joel wait!” Tommy called after the older man, and Joel stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn around. “Just… finish the cigar, please? I’ll stop. I won’t say anything else about her, just, please, one cigar?”

Joel stood still, acting like he was considering, but he was hiding a smirk. He knew exactly how this would go, exactly how Tommy would react… but he also knew that Tommy, at his heart, would always be little Tommy Miller, his baby brother that so desperately wanted Joel to like him. He dropped the smirk and turned around. “Fine. One cigar.‘

One cigar turned to three, and before long the brothers were laughing, sipping on the flask of blackberry moonshine Tommy brought to keep him warm. Joel swore he could see tears forming in Tommy's eyes when Joel told him if they had a son, they would be naming him Caleb Thomas.

When it was time to part, on far more amicable terms this time, they hugged.

“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, you’re my brother, okay?”

Tommy nodded against him. “I know. And I love you too. And if you ever… if you get some intel at where I’m at on a midnight patrol again… Well… I always got moonshine on me if you ever want a taste, okay?”

This time, when Joel smiled, it wasn’t a smirk, it was genuine.

No matter what, Tommy would always be his little brother.

********************

Well guys, does this shift your view of Tommy at all? Seeing as he had the chance to end things for Little One in the woods, and frankly, could've helped her at any point during all this...

Do you think he's a coward? Or is his stuck under Joel and has been manipulated like little one has? Tell me what you think!

Also, i dont wanna be adding a poll bc then i cant edit this and i only like BARELY proofread so I'm sure ill wanna edit later. Anyway.

Comment what you think... is little one having a boy, or a girl?

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy @millerpascal18 @koshkaj-blog

#dark!joel #the wrong way series #dark joel miller #joel miller #the last of us hbo #tommy miller #dark tlou #joel miller fic #tommy miller fic

[harvey-dentverse]

Bf twiddler. The classic

An absolute classic indeed!

Harvey is the little spoon actually. Mainly because Eddie’s arms and legs latch onto anything at night and Harvey’s the victim.

Both of them really enjoy dancing. If they’re in the mood, they’ll put on some songs and dance together.

Edward uses all the hot water. Harvey will get into his bath and it’ll be freezing, so Eddie’s gotta get in there with him to warm him up.

These fuckers argue over the best type of cookies. For real. Mention that either Chips Ahoy or Oreos are better and they’ll start fighting.

Harvey does all the cleaning because he is a housewife and Eddie has every excuse available to not clean. Sometimes Harvey tricks him into cleaning though.

Eddie controls the streaming services they have, so Harvey wakes up everyday to “Are you ready kids? AYE AYE CAPTAIN!”. Either that or whatever shitty romcom drama he puts on.

Hah, you think Eddie can make phone calls without blowing things up? Nah, Harvey’s making the call. He needs warmth to survive.

Edward is a blanket whore. He’s a cold little guy and needs all the blankies. Sorry, Harv.

Hmm I wonder who’s leaving all these green riddles on the floor. Sure do wonder. Looks like Harvey should probably ask around.

Harvey’s getting the milk because he’s the only one doing all the chores here. Also, his father never got the milk, so he needs to.

Both of them remember because neither are capable of forgetting that. If they did, they’d hate themself for it.

Harvey cooks because he is a malewife again, and because Eddie can’t cook without it turning green.

They don’t fight too much, neither of them like yelling. Sometimes they snap at each other, though.

Harvey will probably like rob a bank or something while Eddie prepares new riddles and ideas to talk about with Harvey. They can survive without each other, but they’ll just be really sad.

Obviously there’s Eddie and Harv, but they call each other dear, darling, sweet cheeks (Harvey has the cheeks), stuff like that.

Harvey’s the sugar daddy, of course he’s paying for dinner. Gotta treat his princess right.

Edward. One hundred percent Edward. Not even a close debate.

Whenever it comes to gifts, Harvey gets Edward those silly riddle books and puzzles, and Eddie gets Harvey sweaters and jackets and more silver dollars.

Edward kissed first, when their first heist succeeded. He dragged down Harvey to his level and kissed him.

Despite Edward kissing first, Harvey proposed the dinners and activities. He’s much more of a planner than anything else.

Edward has the better mind, he can remember things to a scary degree. He’ll remember everything Harvey can’t. Even Harvey’s own birthday.

Once again, Edward started the relationship since he just waltzed into Harvey’s lair and immediately they just got along after a coin toss and they became a match made in hell.

Lmao Harvey cusses more, but Edward drops more fuck words then Harvey does.

If Harvey was hurt, Eddie would fuss over him as much as possible, always ready with whatever he needs to help him. If Eddie got hurt, Harvey would do the same thing, just having to bear more of Eddie’s dramatics and does all his work for him.

They’re a chaotic pair, but an absolutely wonderful one.

#asks #batman rogues #batman forever #harvey dent #two face #edward nygma #the riddler #twiddler #riddleface #tworiddles #ask game #dentverse

[heart-shaped-horns]

THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR STAGE- PERFORM! AND DONT WORRY, WE’RE ALL HERE FOR THE SHOW. 🐩🪭💋🍒💄🍎♥️

PATIENT ZERO: PECAN

*bubble gum pops* HELLO AGAIN tumblr nation…it’s your favorite truckstop whore in the flesh.. nyeah………ANYWAYS. For those who haven’t come to know me my names pecan and I run a church (my blog) where we smoke newports and attend sermons (whatever bullshit posts I have to give) PLEASE! Make yourselves at home- the body of Christ is a gift that keeps on giving.

Specimen Info:

-My name is pecan, and I also sometimes go as pecanpie. Other aliases include: Cherry Ferry Fantasia. Choose wisely how you refer to me- or don’t, I don’t even exist!

-I’m 19 and female, you can use whatever pronouns when referring to me, but I usually go by she/her 🪭🪭🪭

-ADHD

-aroace, with a hint of bisexuality.

-My hobbies include: drawing, writing (though I rarely ever do finish my pieces let alone publish them) collecting worthless garbage, listening to music and blowing my eardrums out, being an eternal pain in the ass to deal with, thrifting, sitting on porches, smoking winstons, masquerading as a sane individual, dressing up, and trying out new things because I am an avid dopamine chaser. woohoo!

Things I like: Pretentious media, throwing pitchforks at rich priests, consumerism, otome games, douma, buddhism, echo rose, religious studies, args, reaching divinity, shitty manga, maximalism in every sense, bedazzled stuff, money, getting tacky nails, the roaring 20’s, 1950’s femme fashion, old era aesthetics, boutique shops, leopard print, grandma couches, pathetic wet sop characters and a lot more.

-I have two cats, Mochi and Waffles. The bloodline ends with yours truly.

Fandoms I’m currently active in; Obey Me! Shall We Date, Demon Slayer, and Stephanie Lawson Stevens. I may consider writing for the first two, but I won’t set that in stone yet.

Movies I like: Pink Flamingos, No Country For Old Men, Helter Skelter, Pulp Fiction, All the Boys Love Mandy Lane, Girl Interrupted, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, Spun, Gummo, Last Night in Soho, Fruit of Wonder, Elephant (2003) - will be updated the more I get my hands on anything new that tickles my fancy.

My taste in music: I’m pretty versatile when it comes to what I prefer, so it could range from bimbo-pop to classical music. Anything that sounds good to me I like. I mostly listen to 50’s housewife songs and lady Gaga, though.

-I’m a big fan of indie art and surrealism. Filmmaking as well. Shaye Saint John and Mouchette.org are a few of my favorites.

-I like mortuary work and autopsies. I hold the death industry in high regards- not everyone is willing to work with corpses.

-huge GIGANTIC douma fan. anything and everything douma related I will not hesitate to engage with, he’s my little guy.

- heart sunglasses ambassador (this is my trademark) ❤️

-Polka dot prints and faux fur are resounding yesses.

-You know Florence? (If you get the reference.)

-I think vintage pill cases are lovely.💋

-I have the response time of a limp dick. I either respond in less than a second or only after 3 business months.

-I’ve been working on my new oc line on and off for a few months now, called FEAR & LOATHING in JERUSALEM. artblock is a massive bitch, but stuff is in progress.

Anyways if you’re a terrible human being feel free to block me, you are not welcome onto my blog thank you very much xoxo (transphobes homophobes ableists you know who you are)

GOT COMPLAINTS? CONTACT ME AT 1-666-JERUSALEM-CRACK-SHACK! Make sure to leave me a message. Business hours only!

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒MASTERLIST: IN THE WORKS? 🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

#pecanpie #introductory

[houseoracastle]

[THE DISILLUSIONED]. Please welcome HANK MACGILLIVRAY (HE/HIM) to Huntsville, WV. They are a 45-year-old RESIDENT who lives in TOWN. You may see them around working as a REALLY TERRIBLE COP. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive. 

—IN CHARACTER

Name: Hank Macgillivray Age: 45 Birthday: January 18 Hometown: Huntsville Length of time in Huntsville: 45 years Occupation: Shitty Cop (the best kind of cop tho)

ABOUT

i will add to this here and there depending on the day tyvm

hank was raised by scottish immigrants who didn't fuck around. he's got three siblings, one older and two younger. they were all kept very much in line by a cold and detached father who smacked them around when needed, and a strict housewife mother who was never afraid to say 'you just wait until your father gets home'.

in other words, his upbringing was pretty traditional and straightforward. he was taught to be polite, and he was taught to be the best picture of masculinity and all-american boy he could be.

hank worked out. hank flirted with girls. he played football. he went on dates where he held doors open and pulled chairs out and made sure his female counterparts didn't lift a finger or spend a dime. he met a girl, fell in love, went through several break ups and make ups throughout high school, and was eventually heartbroken when she decided to go to college out of state.

he thought about following her, but his dad's health was declining when he graduated high school. so he stayed nearby, deciding to go through the steps towards becoming a cop mainly because he knew it was a career he'd be good in. following rules was a strength of his, as was getting others to fall in line. it was his stature, mainly, but also his don't-fuck-with-me demeanor (when he wasn't telling stupid jokes and overall being a giant goofball).

hank actually was a really good cop. for a really long time.

when his high school sweetheart finished college, she came back home. they got together again, and this time they seemed like they were gonna last. he proposed to her, they got married, and a year later she got pregnant.

as soon as he saw the first ultrasound, just a little blob on a screen, hank was in dad-mode. he couldn't wait. he was in love with the heartbeat, and he was so in awe of his wife for being able to bring them such a gift. to bring him such a gift.

halley came into the world, and hank was pretty sure he'd never loved anyone or anything quite as much in his entire life, and he probably never would again. his wife didn't take to being a parent quite as easily.

she bailed pretty soon after, leaving hank and halley alone. it sucked, it made hank pretty depressed, but he kept it together. he relied on help from his mom with the baby, or from friends around town.

so hank struggled, but he made shit work. he would've done anything for halley, which sometimes included discipline and structure and routine, but always made time for stupid jokes and fun activities. hank was the dad that wore tiaras and makeup if his daughter asked him to look fancy for a tea party. he let his daughter paint his nails, and he didn't even wash it off after. he just went to work with chipping pink fingernails.

he dated, sure, but not much. it was difficult to imagine anybody being good enough to introduce to his child, so what was really the point of getting too involved with anyone?

then the paradox. not a great time for everyone, but hank tried to stay okay. he was happy to have his daughter, and he did everything in his power to keep her safe. he kept going to work, kept being a freaking awesome cop, kept providing for himself and his kid, etc.

and then he saw someone else who had followed all the rules get torn apart by horrifying forest creatures of the night. and shit changed for hank.

yeah, violence is bad. and like he will definitely get involved with major crime-y shit happening in town. but when he sees a couple of dumbasses getting in a fight? or he watches some kid shove candy in their pockets? he will look the other way. because there is a lot of bad shit going on in huntsville, and who is he to judge how other people cope with that?

oh and he 100% eats his feelings.

#huntsvilleintro #by hank

[aliencatwafers]

Mario & Luigi Cackletta headcanons

Cackletta is 289 years old. She was born in Favaville. It was a shitty isolated town. She despised that place for shutting her down when she wanted to advance.

Her parents were mostly absent. The father was a pastor of the town; he was more concerned about the town than about his own family. The mother was an administrator and had high expectations that Cackletta would be a housewife to a noble and bear an heir. She would burn any spellbooks Cackletta had as magic was a sin in Favaville.

The same town also houses the Beanstar. One day, Queen Bean’s mom strode into town and was struggling to convince the Favaville leaders to release the star. Cackletta easily got on her good side by fighting the security guards and stealing the Beanstar.

Not only did this feat impress the Queen, she offered Cackletta a home with her daughter Bean and lady in waiting Lima so they can learn magic together. Cackletta leapt at this oportunity and never looked back. She liked that Cackletta was sassy and didn’t take bull crap. Cackletta would be a nice contrast to her overly polite daughter and the ever regimented Lima.

Before Cackletta left, she put a curse on her parents and turned them into frogs as a final middle finger to them.

Cackletta was a gifted student and adaptable. Queen Bean’s mother was her teacher and was pleased at how much progress she made. Of course, she warned Cackletta to not let her ambitions turn to greed lest she upset the balance of the universe and throw her life in shambles. Cackletta didn’t listen. It didn’t help that the Queen had a greedy streak herself and used underhanded tactics to get her way.

Cackletta had a large number of pupils in her life. She was trusted to train spellcasters for whatever field they were needed like medicine or warfare.

Her mother, vengeful at Cackletta for ruining her life, sent an assassin after Cackletta. Of course, Cackletta easily fought off the assassin.

A new assassin got sent to go after the pupils she trained. As her pupils progressively had less and less magic in then, the assassin got stronger and stronger.

Cackletta married Queen Bean and they had a good marriage for a while. They created Prince Peasely and raised him.

After a while, they started clashing. Cackletta felt that Queen Bean was going too soft on treaties and ordering her subjects and tough negotiations. Meanwhile, Queen Bean felt that Cackletta was too hard and would often suggest extreme punishments for small offenses and was a little too willing to execute any opposition.

While Cackletta had to stop Queen Bean from accepting deals that offered little to her people, Queen Bean had to stop Cackletta from starting plenty of wars when she didn’t get her way.

They broke up when Cackletta had enough and stole the Beanstar (after a bad argument over the defense budget).

Despite being exiled, Cackletta was still revered and respected among the Beanish. While hurt by her betrayal, they wished Queen Bean was stricter. Thankfully Lima is there to balance Queen Bean out with far less warfare.

Cackletta traveled back to Favaville only to see that a small band of Shroobs that destroyed the place and killed all the Earthlings there. (Far after the events of PIT).

The Shroobs were about to kill Fawful too, but Cackletta used her magic to fight off the Shroobs and rescue a young Fawful.

Favaville was completely destroyed and its histories lost to time. Cackletta was fine with that.

Fawful is the weakest and youngest pupil Cackletta ever had. Cackletta thought about dropping Fawful at an orphanage, but felt wrong abandoning a child who saw his town wiped out. She also liked his technology skills and creativity.

Fawful reminds Cackletta of herself when she was young.

The food in Favaville was bland. It was boring oatmeal, raisin cookies, beans, and dry bread. When Cackletta would make a PBJ, Fawful was stunned. He had no idea that there was more food beyond what he ate in Favaville.

While cursing whoever ran that town in her head, she introduced Fawful to the amazing world of food and cooking. Fawful never went back after learning that foods like rice and pasta and eggs and cake and sandwiches exist and the different forms they take. Fawful wanted to cook.

To hide from the Beanbean government and make money, Cackletta impersonated a history professor and enrolled Fawful at Whohoo Hooiversity so he could get an education. (Cackletta highly values learning). Fawful worked with E.Gadd and made Stuffwell.

They stayed at the university until they finalized their evil plan to steal the Beanstar and rule the kingdom.

While Cackletta refuses to say it, she was worried for Fawful during the final battle with the bros.

Fawful deeply misses Cackletta, but also wants to take credit and grow as a villain.

Cackletta has died several times and is often careless with her body. Fawful was devastated at first, but learned her soul can transfer to a new body and heal her old body. After a while, Fawful treated Cackletta dying the same you would when you find your socks are mismatched. He had a whole system in place when the Bros. defeated Cackletta the first time.

Cackletta has set fast food joints on fire when they added pickles to her food.

#mario and luigi #cackletta #superstar saga #fawful #its aliencatwafers so I gotta include the Shroobs somehow #Cackletta is gay and homosexual #Fawful is a little gay but mostly ace #head canon #mario and luigi rpg #Cackletta gives no shits #Cackletta needs more attention

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

[mypoisonedvine]

Home for the Holidays | Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x reader

summary: robert is tired of pretending to be normal, he’s tired of the shitty holiday known as christmas and he’s really fucking tired of watching his adorable, innocent next door neighbor without getting a real taste.  luckily, he has a plan to solve all three of these things.

word count: a bit over 5k

warnings: smut (noncon, vaginal and anal), gunplay, bondage, stalking, kidnapping, slight-to-medium breeding kink, innocent!reader, lots of degradation, blood mention, pain kink, spitting, implied age gap (??? kinda), cringy and disturbing dirty talk, maaaaybe the darkest thing I’ve ever written… proceed with extreme caution

Robert hated the holidays.  The fact that it was too cold to sell ice cream was a factor, sure, but he didn’t like anything else about them either— the cheesy music, the stupid advertisements on TV, the gaudy decorations everywhere… he wasn’t sure if there was anything he liked about this time of year.  Getting gifts would be nice if he actually had any friends or family to do that with.  Giving gifts sounded like too much fucking work anyway.  He was sick and tired of this stupid holiday and the way it started sooner every year, too.  

This year, when he heard Jingle Bell Rock on the radio for the first time of the season, something snapped.  He wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let the holidays come and go.  He wasn’t going to avoid and half-tolerate all the dreaded ‘cheer’ and ‘spirit’ like he had for the past few years.  No no, this year was going to be different.

This year, he was going to get a Christmas present for himself: you.

He’d been watching you for a long time, since the day you moved in next door.  It wasn’t often that a young woman lived alone around here, and for good reason.  Still, you had this air of blissful ignorance about you— you never caught him spying on you, for one, and when he was spying you were always off in your own little world, listening to your records, daydreaming about god-knows-what.  He wished he could know, because he figured it was something innocent and wholesome.  

You weren’t all innocent and wholesome, though.  He’d seen you doing the things you did when you were totally alone (or at least, you thought you were), late at night, cuddled up under the covers…

He wanted to see more, though.  He wanted to see everything.  And he was tired of waiting.

He was on his porch when you came home, and he waved; you waved back, your hands obscured by big fuzzy mittens.  Damn did he miss the summers, when you would wear tank tops and short shorts and wash your car in the sunlight.  Now you were all bundled up in coats and scarves, and even though you looked sort of adorable like this, he missed that perfect body he knew you were hiding under there.  

You were bringing groceries in from the car, and he could see you had a few bags in the backseat.  “That’s a lot to carry, lemme help you,” he offered as he jumped up from his seat and walked towards you.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you dismissed, but you started to stumble and he had to catch you so you wouldn’t fall and drop your stuff.  “Thanks,” you mumbled awkwardly as you caught your footing— you felt so good in his arms he could barely stand it.  

“What is all this?” he asked as he glanced into the bags.

“Oh, uh, just Christmas stuff,” you explained.  He furrowed his brow as he saw you had bought enough food to feed a whole family.  

“Your folks comin’ into town or something?” he pressed, pulling one of the paper bags open to see inside.  “Or are you hosting a party I didn’t get invited to?”

“Uh, neither,” you laughed, “my family doesn’t… no, they’re not coming.  And there’s no party.  I just love cooking Christmas food and I thought, why not?  I mean, I’ll freeze whatever I can’t finish and have meals for the next month…”

“So you’re gonna make this whole ham just for yourself?” he clarified, admiring your ambition.

“Yep!” you grinned.  “I know it’s stupid, but I just love Christmas and I don’t think I need to justify celebrating it to a grinch like you.”

“A grinch?  Says who?”

“Freezy, you’re the only house on the block that hasn’t put up lights yet,” you smirked.  “It’s sort of obvious you don’t like this time of year.”

“Are you kidding?  I love Christmas!  I’m just subtle about it, that’s all,” he decided sternly.

“Really?  Are you going to see anyone for the holidays then?” you pressed.

“Uh, no, I’m sort of an… orphan, I guess you could say.  No parents or siblings or anything like that.”

“No girlfriend?” you grinned, elbowing him playfully.  

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he laughed, “I just know a few women who would be really mad if they heard me say that.”

“You’re such a dog,” you rolled your eyes.  “Will you help me carry these in or not?”

He sighed as he picked up two bags and carried them up to your porch, pushing the door open with his back to set them on your counters.  He’d been inside your place a few times— mostly with you there, a few times when you weren’t— and he noticed how much you’d changed in the spirit of the season: an enormous, real pine covered in lights and ribbons; decorative ceramic figures all over the place including Santa, elves, reindeer, and even a nativity on the dining table; stockings on the mantle, god knows who those were even for. 

You had literally decked your halls with boughs of holly.  

“Damn, woman, you went all out!” he observed with wide eyes.

“Well, I thought it would be nice,” you smiled, although it was a somber smile, “you know, Christmas like it used to be…” you trailed off as your gaze became distant.  You snapped back to reality with a little sigh, shaking it off and heading back to the car for another load of bags.  He understood that emptiness he saw in your eyes, it was all he felt anymore.  Maybe you could change that for him; maybe he could change that for you.

Aw, who was he kidding?  He didn’t care about that.  He just wanted to figure out what you were hiding underneath those puffy winter clothes.  If the smell of your stolen panties was anything to go by, it was going to be worth the wait.

//

Christmas Eve was just as boring and cold as any other day, except that it was filled with a riveting anticipation.  That was probably true for most people, but for Robert it was for something much more exciting than presents under the tree.  

Nightfall came early, it being winter and all, so it was already pitch dark outside when it was just about time for him to go over for dinner.  He considered smashing a window to get in, but then you might call the cops before he had time to explain, so he decided the easier method was just to knock on the front door.  He didn’t really care who saw at this point— besides, who’d be staring out their window to spy on their neighbors the night before Christmas?  Aside from Robert, that is.

“Oh!” you gasped when you answered the door.  The dark red turtleneck looked even better on you up close, like you’d jumped right out of a Norman Rockwell postcard— or a festive pin-up.  He didn’t wait for your approval before stepping in and shutting the door behind him, relishing the adorable look you wore as you stared up at him with the perfect mix of confusion and concern.

“I know you didn’t invite me,” he smirked, “but I figure two people alone on Christmas ought to be together, don’t you think?”

“Robert, I—”

He pulled his gun out from his belt, watching you freeze as he pointed it at you.

“I think you should start making dinner, sweetheart,” he instructed darkly.  You nodded quickly, walking to the kitchen as he followed you closely.  “What are you making?”

“H-ham,” you stuttered nervously as you turned on the stove before slipping on a cute little apron with white lace around the edges.  “With green bean casserole, and some gingerbread for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious,” he grinned, taking a seat at the bar and keeping his gun pointed towards you.  

Your hands were shaking as you tried to chop the ingredients, and he tutted a little in sympathy.  “Don’t be scared, honey, ‘m not gonna hurt ya.  It’s gonna be a great Christmas— just like the way it used to be, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you shivered, lip quivering, “I… I wish you just would’ve asked if you could have some dinner, Robert, I would’ve happily had you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have me either way.  Up to you if you wanna be happy about it.”

He laughed as he watched your eyes start to water, a meek little sniffle 

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty baby,” he cooed, “it’ll make me wanna skip right to the good stuff.  But, let’s just have dinner first.”

You stayed quiet after that, cooking in silence as he unabashedly undressed you with his eyes.  You looked like a perfect little housewife in that apron; he wanted to see you wearing just that, so he could bend you over the counter and— 

Damn, he was already hard, just like that.  You’d always had such an effect on him.

He went ahead and took a seat at the table once you were nearly done with the meal, leaning back to let you drape the fancy napkin over his lap (and smirking when you gasped a bit, obviously noticing the bulge in his jeans).

“I hope you like it,” you offered weakly as you set his plate in front of him.

“I’m sure you do,” he grinned, picking up his fork.  “You won’t like what’s gonna happen if I don’t.”

You just stood beside him for a moment as he took the first bite, smiling weakly when he hummed in content at the taste.  “Aren’t ya gonna eat?” he asked, looking you up and down.

“I’m not hungry,” you explained quickly.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, “it’s good.  You’re quite the little chef, aren’t ya?”

“Um, I suppose…” you deflected awkwardly.

“Learn to take a compliment,” he hissed, “say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you,” you replied dutifully.  

“That’s better,” he announced firmly, shovelling the last bite of casserole into his mouth before working on the slices of ham.  Your ability to follow instructions was a good sign for how tonight was going to go— apparently for all your naivete, you still had a self-preservation instinct.  He couldn’t wait to exploit it.

He continued his meal in silence, delighting in the way your eyes watered and your lip quivered.  “Alright, sweetie, dinner’s over,” he announced when he was finished.  “Time for dessert.”

You shivered slightly as he stood up and approached you.  “You want gingerbread?” you asked innocently.  He frowned and shook his head, watching you start to cry again as he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.  

“I had something even sweeter in mind,” he informed you with a low growl, taking a big whiff of your scent— that same shampoo smell he was used to by now, mixed in with the new perfume you’d gotten a few weeks ago along with the warm, spicy smells of Christmas.  “Been waitin’ so long for this,” he groaned lowly as he leaned down to stare right into your fear-widened eyes.

“N-no, please,” you whimpered, weakly attempting to twist out of his grip, “you wouldn’t—”

“I would,” he disagreed as he turned his gun backwards, whipping you across the head with the handle.  He caught you before you collapsed, and hoped you wouldn’t be hurting too much when you woke up.  But he would deal with that then.  Right now, he had a present to wrap.

//

There was a radiating ache in your skull.  You felt that first as you groggily opened your eyes.  The next thing you noticed was that you weren’t in your bed.  Looking around, you couldn’t see well because the only light was from your Christmas tree, but you could see that you were naked and bound with ropes.  Oddly enough, on top of the ropes was thick red ribbon, gathered in a big bow right at your chest.

What the fuck is going on? you were about to ask yourself, but then it all became clear.

The shadows shifted, and your neighbor emerged from them.  You struggled against the ropes as you remembered everything, realizing what was happening.  Of course you had always thought he was a bit creepy (who didn’t?) but you were nice to him and he was nice to you.  How could you have known he was this disturbed?  

“That’s my favorite part,” he purred as he stooped down to be eye-level with you.  “The moment when they realize what’s going to happen.  You were so peaceful just a moment ago, knocked out and without a care in the world, and now you’re fighting for your life.”

You whimpered into the gag as he smiled at you, running his hands over your skin.

“I mean, not fighting very well, but fighting.”

You tried to kick him as he stepped closer but the ropes made it impossible.

“I think it’s time to open my present, hm?” he grinned.  You shook your head but he ignored you, slowly pushing your legs apart and growling a little when he saw your exposed pussy, ripe for the taking.  “Look at that, you’re wet,” he laughed.  You wrenched your eyes shut, refusing to believe this was happening.  “Don’t be embarrassed, that happens a lot.  Although I’ll admit, I don’t think any of them were ever this wet before…”

You jumped when his thumb started to rub your clit, the pressure much too intense and unexpected.  He laughed at your struggle, and you could feel your walls throbbing in response to the stimulation.

“I know I didn’t need to do all this to get you in bed,” he continued his taunting rant.  “I know you wanted me already— don’t think I didn’t notice you makin’ googly eyes at me like a dumb little schoolgirl.  If I’d’ve asked you out, I could’ve had you under me after a few drinks… but it’s better this way.  You probably would’ve made me wear a condom, would’ve made me be all gentle with ya, some wholesome missionary shit,” he laughed.  “I don’t have time for that crap.  It’s so much better with your body at my disposal, and you cryin’ those pretty tears.”

The shocks that shot up your spine from the way he was touching you made you feel like your body was betraying you.  How could this actually feel good?  How was it that the fear burning in your gut was actually adding to your pleasure and not nullifying it?

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he groaned as if he were reading your mind.  “I know you love it, little girl, don’t act so innocent.  I know you’re not the good girl everybody thinks you are.  You’ve been naughty this year, haven’t you?”

Even though logic told you not to play into his twisted game, you felt compelled to shake your head ‘no.’

“Don’t lie,” he warned, “I’ve seen you.  I’ve watched you play with this pretty pussy every fucking night.”

You couldn’t watch this any more, you couldn’t look at him while he did this to you.  Forcing your eyes shut, you tried to find a place in your mind to run away to.  Instead, he slapped you right on your clit and your eyes shot open as you whined.

“Keep looking,” he instructed.  “I want you to see it.  I want you to know that it’s me.  I want you to see what I’m about to put in you.”

He stepped back and hastily discarded his shirt, making quick work of his boots and trousers, too.  Then it was just his boxers, and you could see the outline of his erection already.  You hoped it wasn’t as big as it looked, but then he grinned as he pulled the fabric down and yep, it was— you tried to squirm away, uselessly.

“Aw, don’t be scared, baby,” he pouted, “I know it’s big, but with how wet you are I bet it’ll fit like a glove.  A really, really tight glove…”

He leaned down and pressed his lips right against your ear, rubbing his swollen head through your slick folds as you whined.  

“Gloves can tear,” he chuckled.  “Gloves can rip.”

Tears stained the ribbon of your gag as you tried to beg him not to, but it was too late— he was pushing forward and spearing you onto him.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he pushed all the way to the hilt, and your eyes rolled back as the stinging, burning pain shot up your spine.  “So fuckin’ tight, fuck, can’t believe I waited this long to get my hands on you.”

He pulled the gag down, smiling at you tenderly when you coughed out a cry of pain.  “Please,” you sobbed, “please stop…”

“No no, babygirl, I’m not gonna stop.  I wanna fill this slutty little cunt with my come.”

Renewed sobs shook your chest as your nails dug into your own palms, each thrust somehow going even deeper than the last, somehow hurting even more.

“Want my come, pretty girl?” he pressed, refusing to let you ignore him.  “Want me to shoot my load into this sweet pussy a’yours?”

“No,” you sobbed weakly, shaking your head, “no, no…” you trailed off, chanting it like a mantra as you felt like you might pass out.

“Aw, you’re not on the pill, are you?” he realized with a toothy grin.  “Never saw any empty packs in your trash.  Are you worried I’ll knock you up?”

“Please, please don’t,” you shivered.  There was nothing quite as demeaning as having no recourse but to beg even when you knew it would do nothing.  The only thing that came close was the knowledge that your orgasm wasn’t so far off— his cock was slamming right into your spot with every movement, his hips rubbing your swollen clit, and it was impossible to avoid the pleasure that was making your walls tighten around him.

“How could I not?” he countered.  “Fuck, you feel so good, how could I not breed this dripping, desperate cunt, hm?  There’s no way I’m pulling out now when you’re squeezin’ my dick so good like this.”

“Please,” you repeated, so quiet you couldn’t be sure he heard it at all.  You could hardly breathe with his weight on your chest, black static dancing at the edges of your peripheral vision.

“I’ll be honest— I hate kids,” he growled, “never wanted ‘em, but it does sound like a lot of fun to get you pregnant.  Would you like that, pretty baby?  Bein’ full of my kid?  I’d be so nice to watch you get big and know it was all my fault.  Think of it like a Christmas gift, from one neighbor to another.”

“Robert, please!” you cried, although it sounded a lot like you were begging him for more as opposed to begging him for mercy.  You weren’t sure how that happened, except that you could feel the coil in your gut tightening and tightening and tightening until it finally fucking snapped and you choked on nothing, your walls fluttering as a gush of wetness seeped out between your bodies.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “fuck, what a nasty little skank you are, Jesus… coming so hard from being tied up and abused by your neighbor, who knew you were a total freak?”

You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t even think as hazy pleasure flooded your brain and you went limp in his oppressive grasp.  Exhaustedly, you slumped down and let him use you— all you could do now was hope he would finish soon.

“I mean, I knew,” he laughed, “but damn… you’re somethin’ else.”

He said it with pride in his voice, as your entire body burned with shame.  How had you already given in so quickly, accepted your fate and come harder than you ever had before?  It sort of made sense that this would be more intense than what you got from getting yourself off at night (and the thought that he’d been watching you made your stomach churn), but why was this so much better than the sweet, loving sex you’d had with your boyfriend way back when, before he’d run out on you?  Why was Robert, as disturbed as he was, the best you’d ever had?

“God, you’re so wet, I can fucking smell you,” he grunted through his teeth.  “You made such a pretty mess on my cock, babygirl.”

You could hear that he was right, you could feel the wetness that had dripped down to cover both of you— the wet slapping of his balls against your ass was disgusting, yet arousing, and you hated yourself for it.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moaned, “fuck yeah, just like that.”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to until you realized you were arching your back, forcing his cock to hit your overstimulated spot directly.  It made jolts of electricity course through your veins, pleasure sizzling just beneath your skin.  

“Kiss me,” he instructed, and you were too far gone to disobey as you turned and captured his lips in a kiss, instantly accepting his tongue into your mouth.  It was sloppy and forceful and kinda gross and he tasted like Christmas dinner and cigarettes, but it made your walls tighten around him again anyways.  Something about his beard against your face made you moan a little, the sound lost into his mouth but unfortunately not unnoticed.  “Fuck, I know you love my cock so much,” he purred, pulling back only as much as he needed to to speak— he was so close that his lips brushed yours with every word, those dark eyes staring right into yours until you felt entirely helpless to his gaze.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had, you know that?” he praised, grinning as you bit down on your lip.  “Yeah, you love being my good girl, you love pleasin’ me, don’tcha?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Just nod your head, dumb baby,” he grunted coldly.  After a moment of hesitation, you nodded ever so slightly and he moaned above you.

“Fuck— gonna come,” he informed you breathlessly, “gonna fill up your wet fuckin’ hole, ‘m so close, ah fuck—”

The first pump of his cock painted your insides and you cringed as you tried not to moan at the feeling.  His come was hot and thick as it filled you, the faltering thrusts of his hips making your swollen walls flutter weakly.  It felt like it would go on forever— his weak groans in your ear, his thick cock pulsing inside you, your breathing quick and fast until it felt like you weren’t getting any air in your lungs at all.  It stopped, finally, as he sighed and relaxed a little bit.

“Goddamn,” he breathed as he pulled out of you, making you both wince.  Already you felt soreness radiating from your opening, and your face burned as he looked down between your legs.  “Look at that, what a perfect little pussy I just ruined.  It’s all stretched out and red and covered in my come,” he announced proudly.  “There’s a little blood, too, but you’ll be better in no time,” he assured with a smirk.  “Red and white— it’s sort of festive, don’t you think?”

You swallowed down the acid threatening to come up your throat— of course he was disturbed, but did he have to be so disgusting?

Again, it was like he read your mind as he grabbed your jaw and forced you to open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue before commanding you to swallow it.  Just when you thought you’d reached the limits of his depravity, he found some new way to up the ante.  What worried you most, though, was the fact that he’d already come and hadn’t left yet.  Deep down, you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you hadn’t accepted it consciously.

“Such a good slut for me,” he praised through his teeth, “I bet I can go again, fuck, you turn me on so much.”  Pulling back a bit and gripping his cock at the base, you squirmed a little as you looked at it.  “You see this?  I’m still hard.  You make me feel like a fuckin’ teenager again, I swear.”

“I can’t…” you sighed weakly, your voice sounding all cracked and whiny as it moved through your sore throat.  “I can’t take it again…”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’m gonna give your poor cunt a break… so I can rape this cute little ass.”

“No!” you yelped.  “Please!  Not there!”

He slapped you quickly before maneuvering two fingers to your other hole, teasing it as he laughed at your pre-emptive wince.

“It’s not gonna be so bad, baby, I’m gonna get you ready for it first, see?  I bet you’ll love it, nasty little thing like you.”

The first finger slipped in with a little pop as the tight ring of muscle shifted to accommodate him.  You’d never had anything go up that way before, and it was nothing like you could’ve imagined.  Hissing in a breath through your teeth, you whimpered as he added a second finger already.

“Just relax,” he instructed.  “Not that I don’t love you gripping my fingers with your tight little hole, but it’ll hurt less if you just let it happen.”

You willed your muscles not to tighten even as he twisted his fingers inside you, moving slowly until he was buried all the way to the knuckle and then finally pulling back.  The third was a bit more of a challenge as he opened you wider, your fists clenching at the sting of pain.  He let his come drip down from your pussy to use as lube, which was undoubtedly the filthiest thing you’d ever experienced.  You tried to keep quiet and relax as he told you to, but your fight was renewed slightly as he pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock with your hole.  

“Please,” you shivered, “don’t do this…”

“When are you gonna stop fucking fighting it, huh?  How stupid are you?  You’re tied up on the floor, I already made this pussy mine and you fucking loved it, how much more obvious could it be that I’m gonna do this?  You’re fucked.  It’s over.  Just accept it and I’ll make it good for you.”

“This can’t be good for me,” you hissed through your teeth.

“Well, in that case,” he groaned, interrupting himself as he roughly shoved his cock into your ass.  The air was punched from your lungs as pain burned white-hot through your body— it didn’t feel like his fingers had done much to prepare you at all, with the way this hurt.  As soon as you had the oxygen needed to do so, you were crying again, loud sobs echoing around your dark, empty living room.  “I was gonna be gentle,” he taunted you darkly, “but you had to run that mouth of yours.”

You tried to choke out an apology, but it was useless as he shoved his fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck on ‘em, show me what your mouth is good for,” he demanded as you closed your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers.  “Fuck, that’s better.  See how good it is when you know your place?”

You couldn’t really process his words, though, as you spent all your energy on trying not to think about how his cock felt in your ass.  It was like being full in a completely different way than before, like being opened wider than you knew was possible.  He pulled his fingers from your mouth and you hated the moan that spilled out after them.

“Your cunt is getting wet,” he sing-songed mockingly as he leaned back and looked down at it.  “You love it up the ass, huh?  Dirty bitch.”

You shook your head in denial (even though you could feel that he was right, at least about the first part), but he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Say it,” he grunted.  “Admit it, slut.  Admit you love getting fucked up the ass.”

“I…” you whimpered, barely able to get the words out even though you knew you needed to if you wanted to prevent him from hurting you worse.  “I love… getting fucked—” you stopped to swallow the lump in your throat— “up the ass.”

He backhanded you, hard, right across the face.  You cried and gasped all at once, choking on air from the force of the hit.  “WHORE!” he yelled right in your face.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he fucked you with more brutality than you’d known was possible.  “Please,” you tried to beg, even if you knew it was useless, but it was totally incomprehensible as you shook with the force of your cries, hissing in breaths through your teeth to try to cope with the pain.

“Thought it would take me a while to come again, but your ass feels so goddamn good— fuck, I’m close already.  Want me to fill up that tight little ass?”

You shook your head as you sobbed, shaking violently against the confines of the ropes.  Distantly, you heard the chimes of your clock in the other room.

“You hear that?” he whispered.  “That means it’s midnight— it’s Christmas.”

He leaned in until his hot breath tickled your ear and neck, making you wish you could turn your head away more than just a few centimeters.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” he purred, just as you felt his cock swell and pulse inside you.  Your eyes rolled back as you wondered if you’d ever been so full before.

It was a haze after that as he gently untied you, getting his gun out again and keeping it trained on you as he followed you to the bathroom and forced you to shower.  Force was a bit of an overstatement, though, considering your desire to clean him off of you as much as possible.  “I’m not gonna tell anyone, Robert,” you tried to calm him down as you shivered under the stream of water that hadn’t quite warmed up yet.

“Yeah, well, just in case,” he insisted as he waved the gun pointed in your direction.  “Wash between your legs real good, push my come out.”

“Not gonna matter if you knocked me up like you said,” you reminded him.  “A paternity test will be evidence enough.”

“Shut up,” he grimaced.  “Can’t prove you didn’t want it, anyway.  We both know you did.”

You didn’t respond to that, opting to shower silently instead and wincing every time you tried to clean between your legs.  You were going to be sore for days, if not weeks.

“We both know I’m gonna be back for more real soon,” he added darkly.  “Too good for just one night.” 

#robert pronge x reader #mr. freezy x reader #robert pronge noncon #robert pronge smut #mr freezy smut #mr freezy noncon

[fairytsuk1]

i was all over her (a)

part of the autumn experiences collection.

pairing: yandere!tomura shigaraki x reader

genre: angst

words: 2.5k

summary: you never learn.

prompt: visitor

warnings: noncon mentions/intentions, stalking, pervertedness, this is a yandere fic

    The rain was quickly soaking through his cotton shirt, chilling Tomura to the bone with a grumble threatening to work it’s way up his throat. He hadn’t brought an umbrella in protest of Kurogiri’s suggestion, he was sure it wouldn’t rain as he walked his normal path. But, he was wrong, it was fucking downpouring and his chuck-taylors were hardly holding up.

    Your frog umbrella flashed in and out of the streetlights, the rhythmic step of rain boots clicking and splashing in the puddles that littered the sidewalk. Brown, muddy water rushed in the crook of the street so fast he was briefly reminded of the times he and his family used to look at fish in the nearby rivers. That was a long time ago, no need to make room for old broken memories that would soon cease to exist as he aged further in life.

    What he wanted, was you. Your cute little feet stuffed into rainboots far too big for you, they were a gift from your father. That man was too flippant of your desires and needs that he didn’t even know his own child’s shoe size, a sorry excuse for a man if he were to be honest. The umbrella was a gift from your sister, adamant on you having something to keep you sheltered in this shitty ass neighborhood. You didn’t deserve to live here, he could imagine you in a perfectly manicured house with polished nails and frilly sundresses. The sun would sparkle on your skin and you’d smell flowery with a twinge of cinnamon, leaving men desperate and eager to flip up your skirt with the intent to breed you. You’d look so good, he mused. Cum filling your cunt as you squealed underneath him, pleading for more from your dearest, Tomura.

“Mmph!”

    Your shoe caught onto a crack in the sidewalk, nearly sending you face first into the mess that was the gravelly street. He imagined you’d make such lovely whimpers and moans as he rammed his cock into you, greedily taking you from behind...or maybe the front? He’d like to cum inside you to mark you and maybe, if he was really desperate, your mouth.

    He was working himself up, your apartment was near and the excitement was practically eating him alive with the thought that he’d be able to have you if he was just patient. It would be far too easy for you to get away and cause a scene if he grabbed you by the hair and tugged you into his arms, though, would anyone come for you? Your sister was right, this rough place that you called home was no home at all, they didn’t care about your wellbeing. They didn’t even care about basic necessities, like moving the trash bins so it would be easier for you to keep clean. They were selfish and it made him sick to think of them hurting you, taking you, and doing whatever these fucking creeps could think of. They didn’t care about you like he did.

    “Hey! You live in this apartment?”

    Shigaraki ducks into a nearby alleyway, back crashing against the wall as he shakes water out of his face like a wet dog. Soft pants fall from his chapped lips as water dribbles down his ears and neck. There’s a tightness in his pants and his heart is racing, a usual occurrence when he followed you home.

“Hm? Oh...yes, I do! It’s nice to meet you!” You tell him your name, why would you even think that would be a good idea? “Is there something wrong? I’m new to the area!”

     The man chuckles and your stalkers red eyes peer out from behind the wall, noting your neighbors large frame practically swallowing you up. He almost couldn’t see you considering this man was huddling you into the corner and looking down at you like a piece of meat.

    “You’re new? No shit, I’ve never seen a pretty thing like you before.”

    You can’t even help yourself, cheeks lifting as you pull your keys out of your pocket. Must be the neglect from your parents, you’ll let just anyone in between your legs huh?

     No.

    He can’t think like that, you’re different. You wouldn’t, you can hardly touch yourself correctly. He’d form you into the perfect girl, perfect housewife who made him meals and let him bend you over any countertop.

“Ah, well thank you sir.”

    You’ve got manners too, he likes that. He wants to hear his name-not Shigaraki-but Tomura as it rolls off your tongue, it’d be syrupy and sweet just like you.

    Clunky boots step into your apartment and a creaky door is locked closed, bet that makes you feel safe huh? Like no one’s gonna hurt you? Well, under his eye they won’t. But the only thing it won’t stop is Shigaraki; climbing the white rickety stairs to follow and a copy of your key to match.

    Waiting takes a long time, but it’s worth it to keep this little habit up. The water drips from his hair to his chin and neck, leaving a trail that would no doubt make him smell as disgusting as he felt. His hand reaches up to insert the key before the bulbous man from before is grunting out words that he couldn’t care to listen to. Though, the dude is utterly unrelenting and questions him, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What?”

    “Are you...who the fuck are you? I thought she was single.”

    Shigaraki scans him, unimpressed with the way he’d come to confront him when the two of them had the same goal in mind.

“It’s none of your business.”

     The man reaches for his wrist, looking small in the meat of his palm as Shigaraki lets him play hero for the time being.

     “I’m calling a hero! I have a cousin who works with Endeavor, you know! Stay here!”

“Let go of me.”

     The grip is starting to hurt but the man keeps squeezing, even adding a bit more strength when the wiry man expresses resistance. Doesn’t matter, he’ll just get rid of him while he can. Can’t go around harassing women if you’re just a pile of dust, right?

    Isn’t that what you do, Tomura? Stalk and harass future fucktoys? Or rather...as you like to call them, potential housewives?

    Sometimes, he might blanch when those thoughts resurface, bothering him and making him feel ashamed of who he is. How could someone like him, a successor to fucking All for One feel shame? That frustration or perhaps disturbance due to the intrusive thoughts lets his anger unleash, cracking like whips in the form of crumbling the man to dust. His wife beater, something he was sure he was (though he doubted anyone would want to marry this fuck), crumbled on top of the ashes and grew soaked under the downpour.

“I told you to let go of me. Now look at you.”

    What once used to be a living, breathing person, is now kicked to the drain below. Fingers itching the delicate skin near his jaw, he enters the apartment. He feels hungry, but not for food. He just wants to eat you right up. Yeah, that sounds right. Take you all for himself.

    You’d discarded the boots in the alcove near your door, the frogs smiling with pink cheeks as Shigaraki’s childish shoes squash them in his path of destruction. You lie drowsily in bed, pink fluffy pajamas comforting your soft skin and a duvet pulled up to your nose. You’d normally be asleep if it weren’t for the constant nagging in your gut. It felt as though something had gone horribly wrong. The anxiety causes you to lay still in your bed as if something was watching your every breath.

    It was eerily similar to the way you’d cower from your closet at night with the idea planted in your head that monsters were coming to eat you. This was only different in the way that you didn’t know what monster was coming. Not only that, you had no idea what he would do to you.

    You’d call yourself crazy during times like these, but you’d been right when the door to your bedroom opens.

    “I know you’re awake. You always sleep on your back, not your side.”

    It’s quiet and still. There’s tension thickening in the air like gravy on the stove and you briefly wonder if this was another bout of sleep paralysis. You thought you’d been in this position before, someone or something watching you. It had never felt like this, you’d never felt so terrified in your life.

    “Not up for talking, huh? A bit ungrateful considering I helped rid your little ‘home’ of that greasy pig next door.”

    The footsteps grow closer and against all instincts to play dead or even just move away, you sit up and face the man. His red eyes stare down at you, face bony and cracked...he looked like something straight out of a nightmare. Most people you knew were delicate and kind; they looked like regular people. Shigaraki though...you thought that Shigaraki might eat you alive and tear you apart limb by limp. A whimper exits your mouth as you sit paralyzed whilst he simply gets closer and closer.

    His eyes trace the neckline of your sleeping shirt, a scoop neck that showed the smattering of beauty marks adorning your skin. You were so beautiful, he grinned and planted his bottom at the edge of your bed. You shook, the water logged clothes easily soaking through to you and making your heart sink deeper in your chest. You held a confused look, like a deer in headlights or maybe a puppy with twitching ears.

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

    “Why are you apologizing? Aren’t I the one who broke in?”

    Cry for me. You’d look so good and I’d commit it to memory, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

    “You’re such a pushover, how’d you let this happen? Hm?”

     The tears build at your lash line until finally falling in fat droplets down your cheeks. Your hands turn to fists like a child as you rub your eyes, no defenses in place other than to cry like a submissive brat. Your breaths were uneven as you attempted to wipe away tears until a quick hand caught your wrist, pinky lifted.

    “Look at me, when you cry. Gets me off,” he giggles before leaning so close your lips could almost touch, “did you know that? Everytime you sobbed in your pillow, I had a hard time choosing whether or not I should cuddle you or jerk off.”

    A broken wail escapes you as your body finally makes the move to get away, your feet kick in the tangled sheets and you attempt to wrangle your wrist away from him, thrashing and beating on his chest desperately. He almost felt a bit sad, sure, he was a bit mean with the teasing. But...you had to have known that someday someone was going to come for you like this, right?

     It’s easy to intercept your punches, holding both wrists at your head as he leaned over you. His hair framed the two of you, leaving you completely caged in this man. His lithe body scooched up yours, hips resting at yours for a moment.

     “I’m gonna make you mine, well, more like you already are mine. Tomura Shigaraki's little wife. Okay? So you’re gonna come with me to the base without complaints, yeah?”

     A brave scream tore through your mouth as you arched your back, trying for a second escape attempt. His left hand detached from your arm to grab your throat, cries quickly dying out as you thrashed wildly.

     “If my pinky touches this vein right here, you’ll turn into a pile of dirt. If that happens, I’ll move onto someone else. So come on; do you really want to be the cause of someone’s future suffering? Give up, daddy taught you better than to fight.”

“How…?”

     He laughed heartily, your throat clenching under his grip before he loosened to let you get a whoosh of air.

     “Seriously? It’s so obvious you’re a daddy’s girl, take the stupid little gifts, listen to his every command, and wait for the day he decides to acknowledge you. It’s practically...practically predictable! You’re predictable and sad.”

     His words feel like venom as you cry, the lack of oxygen making fuzzy black spots dot your vision. He might kill you in this moment, your lungs squeezed and he finally let go. You sputtered, body confused with it’s sudden freedom as you looked up at him with glassy eyes and snot dripping down past your lips to your chin.

     “You look tired, I’ll take you home okay?”

     You’re dazed, you almost don’t recognize the way he peels back the covers and grazes his hands up your thighs, exposing every inch of skin as if you were a present meant to be savoured.

“I’m a virgin! Please don’t…”

     A look flashes in his eyes as he peers at you from his lashes.

     “Perfect, just makes you even sweeter.”

     You hadn’t thought you could cry more, but every word that came out of his predatory lips made a new wave of heartache resurface, was this really who you were? A weak girl who could let herself be lifted into the arms of a man she didn’t know, fingers digging into the plump flesh of her bottom as she weakly clung on?

      A memory flashes in your mind as you let yourself be taken care of...well no, be kidnapped from your bedroom. It was the one with the high school boys, the way they’d flipped up your skirt and prodded at your weakest, most sensitive places. You’d cried for them to stop, told your father what the sickening boys had done to you. They’d practically defiled you, maybe would have gone so far to take you in that empty classroom had you not kicked one of them square in the shin.

     Your father’s words ring in your ears.

     “Well, you must have done something for that to happen. Don’t wear such short skirts next time.”

     A hand comes to caress the top of your head. Tomura’s, he had you right where he wanted you. Vulnerable and weak to his advances, you were tired too. This was just going to make things easier.

     The rain has slowed to a drizzle, you shivered in his arms and prayed to God for forgiveness as you buried yourself closer to him, the warmth comforting and soothing for your soul. Your bare feet swung limply as he kept you pressed to his front, walking on a seemingly practiced path. He was all over you.

      If he could apologize, Tomura didn’t think he would. He had to be all over you. Consume your soul like the evillest of demons.

      “Cheer up, maybe if you’d been a bit more vigilant, this would have never happened.”

     Your bottom lip trembled, maybe love was not destined for you. After all, you must have been asking for this.

     “And by the way...you know I love you right?”

     You’d heard it a million times before.

#bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #tomura imagine #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura