#anyway hes rotting my brain from the inside <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronically-ghosted · 8 months

Text

Little Monsters

rating: 18+ Explicit

pairing: dieter x f!reader

word count: 5K

summary: A phone call home to your family has you missing them desperately . . . especially your husband, who always knows exactly what you need.

warnings/tags: pregnancy, Dieter has children and is actually a really good dad, director!reader, 1st half is mind numbing tooth rotting FLUFF, 2nd half is straight filth and dieter has a nasty nasty mouth, masturbation, camera/phone sex, slight breeding kink, one single use of ‘Daddy’, if I had an ounce of shame left in me I would not have posted this

a/n: special shout outs go to @spookyxsam for showing me about how babies work and to @lunapascal and @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for talking me off the daddy dieter ledge. this is my first pregnancy fic and i do not know what came over me (she lied, knowing damn good and well what happened to her brain chemistry)

from @yoursoulsunbreakable 's request: Hello sweetie, congratulations on your milestone <3 Here's my request for the little drabble: 5. “Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.” With our precious Dieter and smutty? Hope it'll inspire you 😘

🤍Masterlist

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”

“Oh, Dieter, I’d – I’d –,”

“Yeah?”

You let out a burst of air from your lips, flopping back against the pillows. “I’d ask you for a foot rub,” you whine into the camera.

He chuckles, the sound a bit garbled through the speakers. He leans forward into the camera, as if trying to see down your body, the angle of the phone against the hotel’s lamp not quite right.

“Is Bravo Baby number three giving you trouble?”

You eye your swelling feet over the steadily swelling bump. Well into your second trimester and the list of shoes in your closet you could still wear is shrinking rapidly. This also happened with your second child and when Dieter made one joke about keeping you barefoot in the kitchen, you nearly threw a butcher’s knife at his head. You stroke the left side of your stomach to preemptively soothe the little brat before they start wailing on that spot all night, sighing into your husband’s sympathetic, pixelated face.

“They’ve been grouchy all day. Tom had to leave me in the car for a bit after we scouted a potential place for the exterior shots to finish taking pictures because somebody was having a grand old time wearing me out.” You narrow your eyes at him through the camera. “As if there was any doubt this was your child.”

This is a constant inside joke between you. Your first kid, a girl, was a beautiful blend of both you and Dieter. His eyes, but your hair, your cheeks, and his nose. He also got to name her – said it came to him after he bought some chocolate and water at the hospital lounge –

“Zelle, Dieter, ‘Zelle’?? Like the money transaction service?”

But you had been too zonked out on painkillers and endorphins to object (you thought it was beautiful at the time), and he signed the papers anyway. Neither of you had come up with a fitting name before then and he swears the instant he held his baby girl in his hands for the first time, it came to him, as if the stars rearranged themselves in the sky with that name. Incurably a romantic at heart – your husband – you found it sweet and also idiotic, but it was too late now.

Your second one, Orion, had his name written down on a post-it note you carried in your purse for months and you made sure to show the nurse when you were admitted. Not that Dieter would intentionally go against the name you had agreed on if the baby was a boy, but there was a slim chance he’d get so caught up in the moment and, with watery eyes, tell the nurse to write something like Mars Bar on the birth certificate.

And, for all that, Orion could have been a carbon copy of you.

The joke started when Dieter picked him up from his crib one night and brought that gurgling little mouth right up to his nose. “Are you sure you didn’t just spontaneously create this one? I don’t see a single hint of me in this little guy.” To which Orion giggled around a drool-damp fist and promptly bopped his father on the nose with it.

“Are you saying you don’t remember what happened the night he was conceived?” You asked with a smirk over your shoulder as you returned some baby bibs to the drawer.

Dieter snorted and slid Orion into the crook of his arm, those onesie-white feet seen kicking over his forearm. “Now Mommy is just being plain silly.”

That was five years ago and you couldn’t exactly deny you were excited for the smell of newborn to be all over your husband again.

“I’ll be glad when we hit the last trimester,” he says, chin propped up on his wrist to stare down at you in his other palm, “so I can wave that doctor’s note in your face when you try to work too hard . . . like you are now.”

You shift onto your side to face him, rolling your eyes. “You only like the third trimester for the sex hormones.”

After spending most of your first pregnancy, and at least half of your second, trying to claw Dieter’s eyes out if he so much as breathed in your direction, he was delighted to find that by month seven, the hellcat who had taken over his wife’s body turned into a needy, whiny little kitten.

Some of the best orgasms of his life come from those months, he swears up and down.

“I’m not going to complain,” he grins, peering down at you from those prescription sunglasses. The Dieter you used to know wore them because he was constantly hungover; your husband wears them because he keeps accidentally misplacing his actual prescription glasses. “All I’m saying is you better be back in time so Daddy can play house with Mommy.”

The shrill cry is heard through the phone, the closed bedroom door, and at least one hallway:

“Is Mommy on the phone?”

Barely a second later, you watch over his shoulder as the door flings open and a wild blur of arms and legs dogpiles Dieter onto the bed. You hear him grunt, the camera flips up to the ceiling, as Zelle and Orion clamor for the phone. Chuckling to yourself, you take up the phone from the bedside table and hold it in your palm as you lean back against the pillows and your children’s faces flash over the small screen.

“Mommy, I made a bug out of noodles and string today.”

“Mommy, I saw a cat that looked like a cow today.”

“Mommy, Daddy’s broccoli tasted funny - you cook it better!”

“Hey!” He lunges for Zelle’s little ankle and pulls her up around her waist as she giggles helplessly.

You can barely see them, Orion’s pudgy little finger over most of the camera, Dieter’s hair and Zelle’s kicking feet visible only in flashes.

“You better go help your sister, Orion!”

Needing no other prompting, he drops the phone against the pillows and leaps onto his father, squealing at the noise Dieter makes. Where Orion got your looks, he had all of his father’s mannerism. You blinked twice when as a toddler Orion’s purposeful pout had looked so similar to his father’s, you wondered if they had practiced it together. Orion is ruthless when it comes to the tickle wars and immediately goes for Dieter’s neck.

“Help!” he chokes, “I’m being overrun by tiny monsters!”

Zelle roars at his hip and Orion howls – he’d be a werewolf for Halloween a third year in a row if the tradition continued. Despite more frequent and loud protests about his poor back, Dieter lunges forward and yanks Zelle under his arm like she’s a football. He does the same to Orion and faceplants with both of them successfully pinned. It’s the oldest trick in the book and you muse what he’s going to do when they are too big to do that to anymore. But, as Dieter likes to say, one colossal nightmare at a time.

“Peace treaty?” His voice is muffled by the blanket.

“Stand and deliver,” they repeat, breathlessly and red faced. He lets them go and the two bodies barely move, grins still plastered to their faces. Cheeks pink, Dieter crawls over and snags the phone.

“See, darling?” he says between heavy breaths, “this parenting stuff is easy.”

“Mommy, when are you coming home?” Zelle pops her head between Dieter and the phone, her cheek pink and her little hands pushing her hair off her face.

“Yeah!” Orion pipes up, crawling over Dieter’s back, hooking his tiny hands over his father’s throat. Dieter’s eyes bug out for a moment before adjusting the five year old’s grip. “Are you done chasing the dragon?”

At that, Dieter snickers and you can’t glare with fire in your eyes like you’d like to so you plaster on an overly sweet smile on your face.

“Rori, we asked you not to say that. It’s a stork, remember?”

Orion frowns into Dieter’s curls. “But I want a baby brother or sister that comes from a dragon’s egg.”

“Yeah, Mom, a dragon baby is way cooler than a stork baby.”

Oh, you are going to kill him.

This was another ongoing joke . . . for Dieter. Orion’s teacher called home one night after Orion proudly announced that his mommy was off chasing the dragon. Understandably concerned about the phrase, she called to make sure everything was alright, only to find out what he meant was that his mother was expecting a new baby and instead of a stork, his father told him that Mommy was going to find a dragon to put a new egg inside her tummy, and then the new baby would eventually pop out from the egg.

This was something you had to relay through the phone to the teacher . . . because Dieter was curled up on the floor, laughing so hard he went mute, tears rolling down red cheeks. This had been his ‘stork’ story for Orion, and apparently unaware of just how impressionable a five-year-old is, told him that Mommy was chasing the dragon for a new egg. Dieter says his greatest regret in his life is that he wasn’t there to see the look on Orion’s teacher’s face.

After that, you (and Dieter once he recovered) tried to alter the story enough so that he wouldn’t accidentally imply his mother was off on a drug binge, but evidently too much stuck.

“I’m meeting with the dragon tomorrow, okay? I’m not chasing after anything. We’re having lunch. Right, Dad?”

“Absolutely.” He nods seriously at Orion and kisses that fat little cheek.

“When is the dragon gonna give you the egg with my baby sister in it?” Zelle asks, matching Dieter on her stomach. Dieter’s confidence manifested perfectly in his daughter; you and him had told her many times that the baby might be a little brother, but she just stuck her nose in the air. “I know it’s a sister,” she said, with a characteristic roll of her eyes.

“A couple more months, baby,” you smile, unconsciously rubbing at your stomach again. Baby Bravo is suspiciously quiet. Not soon enough. “But I’ll be home tomorrow, but you two have to be good for Dad until then, okay?”

Orion nods from Dieter’s shoulder, but Zelle smirks up at her father in a way that is well beyond her six years.

“I promise to eat all of Daddy’s nasty broccoli!”

Dieter’s own impish nature, thrown right back at him. The one solace you found is that your husband might have finally met his match.

He grabs her, flips her on her back, and blows a strawberry on her tummy as she shrieks with glee.

“Alright – that’s it – it’s bath time for all naughty monsters!” He hikes Orion over his shoulder and picks up Zelle by her waist. He glances back over at you, his eyes bright and a giant smile on his face.

You swear every time you see Orion, there’s less and less baby in his pudgy face, his little hands. Zelle is constantly saying and doing things that surprises you with the depth of their awareness and you know it doesn’t all come from you or Dieter.

Your heart actually aches from missing them so much.

“Monsters, say goodnight to Queen Monster–,” more yelling, roaring, “I’ll call you later tonight, okay, baby?”

You nod, your eyes suddenly hot and tight. “O-okay – love you all.”

“LOVE YOU!” The three-headed monster yells in unison as it lumbers out of the bedroom.

You end the call, just before the tears spill. Again on your back, you stare at the ceiling feeling incredibly sorry for yourself when the baby rolls over and kicks you in the ribs.

Hey, I’m here too!

You laugh, a little watery, and you wipe your eyes with your palms. Just get through tonight and you’re home.

“Okay, okay, I’m up. Let’s get ready for bed, would you like that?”

It’s late. You know you should be asleep already, but the shower had taken longer than expected. The phone call with your husband and children lingered in your mind when you turned on the water and stripped down. Your heart was so full to see Orion’s pout and Zelle’s mischievous grin, especially after such a long day on your feet and for all his teasing, Dieter’s own ease and confidence as a father, as well as a husband, left you feeling . . . warm. In fact, your mind’s eye lingers on him in the memory of the call: his beautiful, rich curls – those square black glasses that made him look annoyingly mysterious and so goddamn hot – his biceps flexing as he throws around his children with ease, his shoulders broad and straining against his shirt — his bulging forearm making his triangle tattoo pop – his wedding ring that replaced all the other rings –

The good news is the baby was almost here. The bad news is that you’re suddenly irrationally horny and your all-too-eager husband was a plane ride away.

Entirely naked besides the white hotel robe around your shoulders, you sternly ignore the plush tingling between your legs and try to focus on rubbing in lotion into your legs, your hips, over the old and new stretch marks over your stomach. Your fingers rub underneath the curve of your stomach and accidentally brush the damp curls, sending tiny shock waves up your pelvis. You gasp lowly, freezing, eyes tightly shut, fighting back that wave of arousal.

Goddamn it.

At first you think the ringing is between your ears, your blood rushing hard and fast, and then you realize it’s actually your phone going off.

Daddy Dieter, the screen reads.

You frown at the clock – if it’s late for you, then it’s very late for him. When he said he’d call you later, you didn’t think he meant literally later tonight. Still frowning, you put down the bottle of lotion and answer the phone.

“Dieter?”

“Hey, baby. How’s your night?”

He pulls back the phone and your mouth flushes with spit. He’s shirtless, sunglasses replaced with his actual glasses, that silver earring glinting in the low light. In the center of your bed, he’s propped up on several pillows with his arm tucked behind his head. He has thickened over the years, his chest and shoulders taking on a new weight as if he physically grew into fatherhood — and God, if his bicep was bulging before –

“Dieter –,” your voice is hoarse at first and you have to clear your throat to get anything out of your mouth that isn’t a whine. “Dieter, what are you doing up?”

He shrugs like he’s just been bored at home. “Bath time was easy. Orion wanted just one story and Zelle didn’t put up a fight when I told her it was bedtime and she had to put away the crayons.”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you slip them Benadryl?”

“Wow! No! Did you ever think that maybe I’m just that good of a dad?” He scoffs, mildly offended. And then he smirks. “I told them you’d come home sooner if they were good.”

“Ah, the old Santa Claus trick.” You nod sagely and sit down on the edge of the bed, the movement tugging the robe slightly. “Always a classic.”

“Yeah, I –,” Dieter’s eyes widen, edges going dark. “Are you naked?”

You swallow, his sudden shift in tone causing your thighs to clench. You cross your legs as tightly as your belly will allow, your chin held high.

“I’m in a robe, Dieter. Took a long shower.”

His eyes glitter with interest, the tip of his tongue running on the edge of his bottom lip. “How long?”

Feeling hot and swollen for months now, you flush pink, an overripe peach beneath the slightest pressure of his thumb.

“Dieter–,” it’s a whine but you shake your head. “Please don’t tease. I’m so . . . sensitive right now, and I won’t be home until tomorrow and–,”

“Baby, baby, breathe. I know it hurts.” He sits up, his eyes big and dark. “I remember how wet you get around now.”

Your cunt drools onto the robe below you, thighs sticky, his words ringing in your ears.

“Dieter, don’t –,”

“I know I can’t help you but what if I showed you how to help yourself?”

You whimper, arousal now hot and warm in the pit of your stomach. The strength of it makes your pelvis ache. You know it won’t be the same as him, but his voice, it might be enough. You nod, your heart pounding, hand holding the phone shaking.

“Then lie back, baby.” Dieter purrs and it’s almost like he’s pushing you back with his hands. You shift up the bed, careful to not step on your robe with your heels as you center yourself in the covers. But Dieter’s moving, off the bed, and he’s adjusting something behind his phone.

The baby inside you can feel your heartbeat racing and they turn, uneasy. You soothe them with small circles just above your hips, your lips between your teeth. But that touch on your skin, the look in Dieter’s eyes, you brush lower on your skin and immediately you shudder.

“Baby, please, hurry, whatever you’re doing, hurry –,”

You drop your fingers over your thighs, curling and uncurling, drawing imaginary lines like he does in the mornings against your shoulders and back.

“Just a second, sorry, almost got it.”

Then he steps back, the phone hovering in the air. Dieter sits on the bed and the camera holds the entire bed in view. Dieter is nothing if not a performer, bringing a tripod into the bedroom when he knows you need him the most. He’s so fucking hot.

“Can you see me, baby?”

You nod stiffly. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way is comfortable,” he smiles and it’s almost as hot as his smirk. Fuck, he loves you so much. You slide the robe off your shoulders, exposing the tops of your breasts as best you can and still keeping your phone up. “Perfect, baby, that’s perfect.”

Your hand drops to your thigh again, dragging your nails up under the swell of your belly and you twitch.

“T-tell me what you would want to do,” you begin, your voice shaking, arousal smooth as it licks up your spine, “if you were here right now.” You feel warm all over, the sheets cool against your calves.

This far away, you can’t see his eyes clear enough to watch them darken entirely, but his low grunt is enough. It’s time for him to perform for his pregnant and insatiable wife.

He slips his glasses off and tosses them onto the bedside table, where they land with a clatter. You can’t even think of scolding him when he lifts his hips and yanks his gray sweatpants down his knees, then to the floor. He’s half-hard as he shuffles back to the pillows, nearly in the same position you are. You shift to match him entirely, needing the immersion to be total and complete. You’d cry if he could actually touch you.

“Are you comfortable?”

You nod again. But Dieter shakes his head, his fingers digging into his thighs. “I can’t see you this far away, baby. I need you to say it. Talk to me.”

He was usually the one vocal enough for both of you, any coherent language impossible with the mess he makes out of you. You can’t imagine what you’re going to sound like, not when you’re this needy and desperate already.

“O-okay, Dieter, I’ll try.”

“Good girl.” You whimper again, trying to restrain from touching yourself before he tells you to. But you’re throbbing, the heat blooming from your cunt rushing to the rest of your body, the baby in you restless. As if mother and child can only be soothed by their father. “Now, breathe, darling, you’re flushed.”

You inhale, the air notching on every bone in your spine, and exhale, your lungs shuddering, eyes shut. “Dieter, please, tell me what you’d –,”

“I’d touch your thighs,” he says with such immediacy, your eyes spring open. He’s got the knee farthest from you bent up, as if putting himself on display, turning his hips towards the camera slightly. His other leg is stretched out long beside him and his left hand strokes his cock. Hair and shoulders backlit from the far lamp, the image of him like this alone — just for you — has your cunt clenching, a moan spilling from your lips. “Touch your thighs, baby.”

You can’t grab as much skin as he does, but you try. You lift your knees, and massage the backs of your thighs, then up to your knees, and back down. You can almost feel his breath on your calves and you shudder. “What else? W-where else?”

“I’ve been thinking about your tits for days,” he groans, the sound strangled, his cock now fully-hard and red. He cups himself, twisting as slow as he can take it. “Tell me what your tits feel like.”

“Sensitive,” you gasp as you draw two fingers across your nipple and squeeze gently. Dieter only uses his mouth now on them, so you wet them with yours and return them to your swollen bud, slowly twisting and pulling.

He’s watching you through the camera, eyes wide, breath sharp when you suck your fingers into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, that’s right. Get them wet. What are you thinking about?”

“You. Your lips around my nipple, under my breast. Your teeth. They’re so heavy, Dieter.”

His hips jerk under his hand, his fingers moving faster now. You can’t quite hear what he’s muttering, but you catch weak mumblings, “gonna feed our baby”, “yeah, your tits”, the baby” —

“Dieter, please–,”

“Touch yourself with your fingers wet from your mouth. T-t-tell me what it feels like.”

With a relieved cry, you slide your hand down from your tits, over the swell of your belly, and in between your thighs. Wetness clings to the curls, to the curve of your ass, your body so ready to take him, and it locks up when you slip a finger inside.

“So wet. Warm. How many fingers can I put in?”

“One, but – can you already do two?”

You nod, the huff arching into a whine. “Yeah, baby. You have no idea how wet I am. I can slip in two with no resistance.”

“Jesus,” he pants and slows down, his hips rocking of their own accord. “You’ve got me so hard.”

You curl your fingers inside of you, searching for that spot made and found and praised by him. Your folds plump and achy, you twist your wrist, scissor your fingers, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as his three fingers plugging you up, readying you to take so much of him, it’s enough to ease the sharp ache for a bit. You moan, fucking yourself more. He hears it, sees it, and grunts.

“You can come wherever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his own hand hesitant to match your speed. He tugs on his balls and his toes curl, his neck long and tense. “Fuck, I need your hands.”

“Me too,” you sob, real tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It feels good but it’s not the relief you need. It’s pathetic but you don’t want to stop. You can’t get in deep enough, even if you could get around your big belly. “Dieter, I can’t reach. It’s – I’m –,”

“Breathe, love, it’s okay.” His voice is soothing, calming. The same one he uses when you’re in labor and the sweet honey warmth of it sinks into your bones, easing the panic. You slow, gasping, tears pooling down your temple. Your orgasm is harsh, sunken in the dark, waiting for you to draw it out.

“What can you reach?”

“My clit.”

“Then touch that. Can I see?”

You nod, angle the phone down as you rub that electric nub.

“Oh, fuck, baby. I know it’s frustrating and I know it hurts, but you look so fucking good. So wet for me. Your pussy is perfect, pink, just how I like her.”

“Yeah?” you spin your fingers faster. That hot arousal returns steadily, melting back the resentment towards your own body the longer he praises.

“Oh yeah.” You can hear the slap of skin on the other end of the phone and you can picture Dieter flat on his back jerking himself off to your pulsating cunt and you moan, loudly, tension evaporating from your body. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Tight. I just need a bit more.”

“Me too. Let me see your face, pretty girl.” You turn the camera and gape at the sight on the screen.

Precum drips out of his now-purple cock, his chest flushed and neck sweaty. He’s twirling the head around with his thumb at the pace you’ve set with your fingers against your clit.

“Look at what you’ve done to me. You’re so fucking gorgeous. Can’t wait for you to be home so I can eat you out for hours.”

“I want your cock in me, Dieter,” you gasp, furiously rubbing on your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your cunt clenches in time with your thudding heartbeat. “You’re so thick. I wanna feel the stretch.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you hard.” The confession is a low snarl, a promise made between the ridges of his teeth. He fucks his fist faster, the noise over his labored breathing obscene. “Gonna put your hands on the headboard, your pussy in my lap and I’m gonna fuck up into you until I fill you full again. Wanna make you pregnant twice.”

Arousal floods your veins, your thighs a gooey mess. You toss your head back, back arching, and you moan as loud as you can.

“Oh– shit, oh, oh, shit–,”

“You’re gonna leak all over my thighs and when you’re done coming so hard you can’t see straight, I’m gonna lick it up all off you, my wife. Mine. My baby. Mine. Fuck, you look so good full of me.”

He’s never this possessive, never angry that he can’t have you but he sounds livid. He fucks his fist, his hips bucking into nothing, his other hand squeezing his thigh so hard his knuckles go white.

You circle your clit one more time and finally — your orgasm crests, your body locking up, your cunt gushing – and it leaves your mouth before you can stop it –

“Oh, Daddy–,”

You hear him gasp as if electrocuted, and you have to drop your phone to steady yourself as the weight of white-hot pleasure explodes across your body. You rock, breath gone from your lungs, mouth open in a silent scream, and everything slams back into you and you gasp, high and loud, every inch of your skin hot and trembling. You don’t realize you’re sweating until you feel it drip off your neck.

All you can hear is Dieter panting from your phone amongst the covers, the sound muffled. Your eyes flutter as the warm waves languish, then curl, and finally, you sigh as the last waves drain out of your body. If you weren’t lying down you’re sure you’d be dizzy.

“Oh my god,” you mutter breathlessly to no one in particular.

“B-baby, you still there?”

You blindly feel around for your phone, arm so weak it’s trembling as you pull the camera towards your face

Dieter looks about as fucked out as you feel. Cock limp and still dribbling, his stomach and chest are covered in cum. He pushes his damp hair off his forehead, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling.

“Holy shit, baby, that was …”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing your dry tongue, wishing again he was here so he could get you a glass of water. “I hope that wasn’t all of it because I really want you to say all of those things again tomorrow when you’re inside me.”

He groans and adjusts his limp cock. “You say that now but wait until Baby Bravo kicks you in the kidneys. You’ll be feeling a lot less generous towards this,” he gestures aimlessly to his naked body, “then.”

You chuckle. “Let’s just hope for the best. Besides,” you say, groaning a bit as you sit up to wipe the sweat off your neck with the robe, “I’m pretty sure I can have you eating out of the palm of my hand. Now that I know your secret . . . Daddy.”

Dieter groans as you laugh. He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be so surprised by now when you make me discover new kinks.”

“Mhmm hmm.”

He rolls his eyes as he gets up and picks the phone off the tripod. Holding the phone to his face, he wipes the cum off with his sweatpants before turning his attention back to you.

“How are you? Feel better?”

“Much better.” You stretch and lean back in the bed. If he was here, you’d probably be asking to eat you out, but at least the knife’s edge of desire has dulled. You can at least wait until nap time to jump your husband’s bones.

“Good,” Dieter sighs, satisfied. “I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport tomorrow, okay?”

He always gets like this the nearer the due date comes, as if he can’t stand to see you lift a finger unnecessarily. You smile and nod, never wanting it to be any other way.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“Okay. Good night, my biggest love. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Dieter.” Goddamn hormones, making you cry again.

“Now lemme say goodbye to our little traveler.”

You wipe your eyes with your thumb as you tilt the phone to your swollen belly.

“Good night, Baby Bravo. Can’t wait to have you around.”

And, at the sound of their father’s voice, they stir. Not kick or hurt. Just a tiny foot against your tight skin.

You are officially crying now.

“They said hi, didn’t they?”

You’re nodding, crying, and he can’t see a damn thing. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “They said good night, Dad.”

He’s patient with you as you wipe your eyes, cheeks flushed again.

“Baby, don’t cry, you’re breaking my heart.”

“You’re just a really good dad. And I’m so lucky,” you blubber. “This is it! I’m never leaving to go scouting again. I can’t take it.”

“Mhmm. Let’s revisit that when you’re about two months postpartum and clawing at the walls.”

You laugh with him, your own sticky and goopy. “Fine.”

“Go to bed, love, and for the record, I’m the lucky one. Don’t forget that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.” You blow a kiss and he catches it. You roll your eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You stay like that for a bit, cradled by the pillows, and your phone on your chest, thinking about everything from Dieter to the next school picture day, to the next family vacation, and of course, the zillion things you have to get done with work before the baby comes — hopefully all from the home office.

She kicks.

You smile, wondering how you and Zelle both just know it’s a girl. Dieter has his own suspicions, he says, but he’s saving them. Orion would probably be thrilled to have a dragon in the family. You snort, hand over the place where she put her little foot.

“I miss them too, sweetie. And once you’re here, we’ll outnumber those silly boys. Maybe we’ll have to get a dog. You’ll like dogs.”

She’s silent, maybe sleeping, maybe thinking about what the heck a dog is. You smile, turn off the lamp, and peel back the covers. The sheets are cool and soft.

You fall asleep, dreaming of little feet, and hands, and wedding rings.

#dieter bravo #daddy dieter #gonna make this an official tag if its the last thing i do #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble #100 followers event

251 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 1 year

Text

Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.”

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?��

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much.

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.”

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod.

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog.

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind.

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad.

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over.

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.”

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it.

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop.

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you.

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you.

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more.

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him.

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you.

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside.

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did.

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.”

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt.

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again.

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care.

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #slashers #slasher fic #scream fic

646 notes · View notes

selvyyr · 2 months

Text

A/N:i really love murder drones alot and had fics on my other account and that's for yall to find out btw,again other brain rotting idea of mine and my moot<3

"and yet i still feel nothing!"

୧ ‧₊˚💫📂⋅ ☆

You really don't remember anything at all from the past..You only remember your husband banishing from heaven because he had broke rules with human called "lilith"..

Amd next thing you know..You were banished after him but was taken by someone..She called herself "Cyn" or "the absolute solver"..

You didn't know where you were at but it was very large mansion but with angel's blood were on the floor..After when cyn found out that the heaven decided to go and kill sinners every year..

She decided it will fun for you and the others go and kill the angels who were in the pride ring.. You all agreed it's not like you had anything else to do anyway..

So cyn had gaven her power to you and the others.. As it took you all to form.Yellow eyes on your head and poisonous sharp tail and white slivery wings..And gloves that can change into any weapons..

You were stuck with j,n..And you were called "v"..You were close with the two.. As you three saw eachother as siblings..

J were the leader of the group.. She were really bossy and mean on the outside and nice in the inside..

N were nice and energetic guy but he could get serious if it's about his job..

You were really sarcastic and psycho but nice and caring at the same time..

Every year you three both seperate in the pride ring and kill the angels that tried to hurt the sinners..And eventually you started to eat the angels organs especially the hearts..

Ypu didn't know why but you become cannibal after that but still ate regular food.. J and n become cannibals after you..

As the other people become cannibals too.. Cyn were cannibal so she was happy that her little family become cannibals too..

Now here you were killing some angels and eating their organs out like a hungry bear that haven't eaten for weeks..As you stop and begin to put the rest of the organs in your black bag..

You heard someone call out for you..As you looked behind you.. It was n who were running up to you with purple gril on his back..

You get up from the ground as n stood beside you with big smile.. You sighed as you spoke

"Why do you have sinner on your back n?"

N chuckled nervously.. As you raised a brow at him.. He cleared his throat as he spoke

"Well!Her name is uzi!She wanted to know more about us and she even have cyn's solver but purple!"

You had quite suprised look on your face but it quickly changed to annoyed look.. You groaned as the purple sinner who called "uzi" were asleep..

You took uzi as you hold her in bridial style..N had quite worried look on hos face before you spoke

"I won't hurt this purple thing,i'll just carry her since i'm sure it was very hard for you."

N nodded as you both then begin fly to the sky.. While j had already had send message saying she left already..Later you two found the portal..N jumped in as ypu jumped after him..

Hope this purple sinner won't cause any trouble..

୧ ‧₊˚💫📂⋅ ☆

A/N:YES!EX WIFE!READER WHO WERE TAKEN BY CYN THE ABSOLUTE SOLVER AFTER FALLING FROM HEAVEN..WHEN LUCIFER REALIZED THAT [NAME] HAD FALLEN FROM HEAVEN HE COULDN'T FIND HER ANYWHERE AT ALL.AND CYN HAD DELETED ALL [NAME]'S MEMORY EXPECT FEW OF THEM..CYN WARMED UP TO [NAME] QUICKLY BUT STILL CAN CONTROL HER..CYN CHANGED [NAME]'S NAME TO V.

YEP! V!READER LOL XDD

HOPE YALL LUKED THIS!

୧ ‧₊˚💫📂⋅ ☆

TAGLIST:@crescent-z

୧ ‧₊˚💫📂⋅ ☆

#lucifer morningstar #fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #murder drones #v murder drones #The solvery

92 notes · View notes

itsoutrageouss · 2 years

Note

hello! i was wondering if i could request some type of comfort by Eddie Munson where the reader has an abusive father / mentally abusive family and shows up at his house crying and scared etc…?

a/n: tumblr deleted this whole thing so I had to rewrite it </3 anyways Eddie comfort for whoever needs it. didn’t include any actual scenes with the family just the aftermath.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of mentally abusive family/father, reader being sad and scared and stuff, angst to brain rotting heart throbbing eddie fluff

Oh, baby - e. m.

—☕️

Your legs were completely numb. The cold that bit at your skin like needles was gone. The ache in your feet no longer present.

You had been walking for miles now, without calling him, without packing or saying anything. There was a certain distance between your street: aligned with blue suburban houses and white picket fences and eddies: huddled with trailers and campers, but time felt far away and obscured so it didn’t really matter.

You just needed to get away, and you didn’t trust yourself with any kind of vehicle right now, your hands were too shaky and vision too blurred.

The numbness spread to your hands and stopped short of your head, much to your dismay. You wished you couldn’t feel anything in this moment, because hurt, resentment, fear and everything bad had corrupted your brain.

It’s not my fault, you kept saying to yourself

It’s not my fault, the words were losing their grasp on you, muddled like smudged ink on paper.

It’s not my fault, it’s theirs for ever having a child.

It was repeated like a stained mantra, a broken record but it seemed to lose feeling and meaning all the same.

Soon enough the trailer park came into view and you nearly felt your knees buckle, hot tears prickling your eyes. If Eddie wasn’t home you were sure you’d wither up and die right on the spot.

Just as you came to your designated trailer, Wayne opened the door with a trash bag in hand, throwing it in the bin while shouting something to where the amber light seeped out into the chilly cold. He caught sight of you then and offered a friendly smile, a raised hand simultaneously meaning hello and goodbye. You were lucky that he was too distracted and far away to notice your dishevelled state as he went to his car and drove off for his night shift.

No sooner did a familiar curly haired boy peek out from the trailer door. He stopped short of closing it when he saw you, and gave you an excited grin along with a hey, sweetheart!

The expression quickly fell from his features upon taking you in. His eyes turning big and doe-like as they sparkled in the dusk that was settling over Hawkins. He rushed to your aid with the wind rustling his hair- it was October and the cold was especially unforgiving.

“Oh baby, what happened?” He muttered as he assessed you quickly; your eyes were red-rimmed, your cheeks and nose flushed crimson from wind and tears, limps shaking and draped in a veil of goosebumps. A warm hand found your back as he led you inside, placing you on the couch.

He knew it had something to do with your family, it always did- he damned them in his head. Eddie couldn’t wait for the day you and him had saved up enough money to leave for good.

He wanted to take you far, far away from anyone who would ever make you hurt like this.

While you regained a bit of composure, Eddie flung open the kitchen cabinets for some kind of chocolate. He knew it was your favorite comfort food, though all he found was a tin can of cocoa powder. Still he started preparing a mug for you.

You began explaining with an unsteady voice what had happened. It came out strained in an effort not to cry as you recalled it all, telling him how useless your dad had made you feel, how his yelling had scared you to the point of running.

While the water was boiling, Eddie sat next to you, holding both your small hands in his to warm you up. He listened intently and clung to every word, eyes flickering over your face as you spoke, until he had to interrupt you to ask:

“Wait you ran? As in you walked all the way here?” his voice was filled with concern.

You muttered a small yes, shame tainting your voice, knowing he wouldn’t like that. You prepared yourself for a scolding, but only looked up to see his face filled with benevolence and loving worry. Eddie was nothing like your family, you remembered.

He was everything good and warm and no one had ever loved you like him. No one ever would.

You should’ve called, Eddie wanted to say. Usually him or Wayne would come pick you up unless you biked yourself or borrowed your family car. But he knows that if you had to run from your own home, calling him was not nearly as important as you being safe.

“You’re here now baby. You did so good, n’ you can stay as long as you want, m’kay ?” He praised softly, last words muffled as he pressed kisses to your knuckles. His mouth was warm and wet, polar opposites to the biting cold you had endured and his kisses on your skin sent shivers down your spine. Finally he planted one on your forehead before leaving to finish the cocoa.

You looked after him in awe, giving him a half-hearted smile when he came back with the two mugs, placing them on the two black sabbath coasters he had. Once again he disappeared to retrieve the comforter from his room, and he draped it over the two of you.

“You forgot to turn on the TV, Eddie,” you muttered softly when he sat down. A small smile splayed on your lips, and you already felt his presence melt away the pain from your heart.

“Christ!” he complained before getting up again to turn on the little static TV to some stupid gameshow. When he came back he dragged you body impossibly closer in the tiny sofa before handing you one of the mugs. He kissed the crown of you head for a long time, closing his eyes to revel in the feeling of you next to him, of your whole body sighing in relief. You felt safe, he could tell and it tugged on his heartstring mercilessly.

You breathed him in as he held you, sipping the cocoa and leaning into his chest, feeling your whole soul warm up.

Later, Eddie noticed your breathing growing steady and heavy, the cocoa long gone and cups discarded. Your legs were tucked up under you and your hand clutched his t-shirt. He looked adoringly at your pouty face before carrying you to his bed.

He turned on a nightlight in case a nightmare would wake you, and crept in next to your sleeping figure, holding you tightly all through the night.

You would always be safe with him.

2K notes · View notes

merakiui · 2 years

Note

Oh my god I never thought Id see an alpha!scaramouche. Mera, hes been on my brain a lot recently because of the leaks I saw of him (nervous about what his new design is gonna be and what his animations are gonna be). Some more brainrot for omegaverse though ! Maybe a way you would find out about him being an alpha is that your suppresants don't get renewed on time so when you go to seek comfort from the wanderer you notice he seems a bit different around you. Theres just a little hint of brainrot, you'd do a better job at expanding on it than I possibly could <3

Omg he's been on my mind so much lately!! orz I miss brain rotting about him, so expect lots of mouchey thoughts. <3

(cw: yandere, omegaverse/abo, pregnancy, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession)

As for the omegaverse brain rot, what if it's that one trope where Scara gets you pregnant by accident because you went into heat and he got overwhelmed by his instincts and the two of you end up fucking without protection? And he's so close to biting your neck and claiming you as his for all of eternity, but he miraculously holds back and just,,,, sinks his teeth into his arm instead!!! And now the both of you are sort of stuck together after the pregnancy test comes back positive some time later. You're so ashamed that you've burdened Scara with this and you apologize profusely while he just stares at the test, half-expecting a joke or a mistake or something. You tell him you'll deal with this yourself and you suggest getting rid of the baby since you can't afford the resources or the time needed to care for a child. You're in your final year of university. You have to focus on your degree, not a child, and you don't want to bother Scara with any of your problems.

Scara has this moment of internal panic when he hears you say that because he actually doesn't want you to do any of that. He can't explain why, but the idea of you getting rid of the baby makes him feel oddly uncomfortable. So, since he's a very well-off alpha with a stable and respectable job, he moves you into his penthouse. He says it's only to keep you safe. Omegas are already vulnerable enough, but one that's pregnant and emits the sweetest pheromones?! That's just asking for conflict. Scara promises he'll schedule an appointment with an ob-gyn (hmm maybe it's alpha albedo ooohhhh), but he waits a while. He'd prefer to keep this between you and him (the last thing he needs is Miko breathing down his neck if she finds out; and she'll no doubt tell Ei and then he'll really be in hot water). He'll have the family doctor come in to see you. You won't even have to leave his home, save for when you travel to uni.

Scara's almost never home. And for the first few months, it feels like he just doesn't care about you, which isn't too terrible because it allows you to do all the things you'd normally do regardless of this new arrangement. But Scara is so cold and distant, almost always in a foul mood when he's home, and you begin to wonder if this was a good idea. But while you stew over your doubt, Scara's been watching you through the cameras in his home while he's at work. You're so precious when you're oblivious, and he's given an immense serotonin boost when he watches you crawl into his bed and wrap yourself up in the blankets, most likely to surround yourself with his scent.

There are just a few concerning issues. One: You're still attending university and he can't always follow you to and from your school. Two: Your friends are always messaging your phone. He'd know because he's had a colleague he's acquainted with tap into your phone so that he can read every message as soon as you receive it. You haven't told them anything yet, which is a relief because he wants to make you disappear from the world so that it'll be you, him, and the adorable baby growing inside you. You don't need those fools anyway. And three: You don't actually like him. There's no love. You're just here because he told you he'd take responsibility.

But when your friends insist on meeting up with you, claiming that you never go out anymore, it really gnaws on Scara's patience. And when you get into heated arguments with him when he refuses to let you go outside for fresh air, of all things, and he has to calm himself down because he doesn't want his temper or the intense amount of pheromones he's releasing to stress you and the baby out, it just adds more fuel to the growing fire. You only need him. Why can't you realize that? That's what you told him while he was fucking you all those months ago. So why does it feel like you can function perfectly fine without him (save for those little moments when you get weepy and melancholic, yearning for an alpha's presence)? He'll make sure you'll depend on him soon enough.

After all, he'll be the only one in your life. There won't be anyone else to turn to. You'll have no choice but to accept him and this life, even if you think you can leave after you've given birth to Scara's child. There's no way he's letting you go now, not when he's fallen so deep into this obsession.

#genshin chit chat #kier-xs #yandere scaramouche #tw: omegaverse #tw: abo #tw: pregnancy #miserable alpha salaryman scara x overworked tired omega uni student reader...#<3 wonderful dynamic hehe #so many alpha scara thoughts omg OTL

649 notes · View notes

waklman · 11 months

Note

fake it is my bread and butter I’m in love thank u. I feel like reader is going to start pulling away. OMG WHAT IF jake kissed the reader in front of a bunch of people when he was beyond drunk or did something that made the reader embarrassed and uncomfortable so she isn’t talking to him and jake pleads for her forgiveness and it’s angsty and fluffy

note: okay i don't really know what this was but i'm just happy i was able to finally write something honestly, anyways here is more jake and princess until i pull myself together to work on the next chapter </3

warnings: mentions of drinking, insecurities.

If you were merely a book, you’d be a forgotten composition of bounded paper, quietly collecting dust on the unreachable bay of a shelf inside a fading bookstore—barely visited by anyone but the owners themselves.

And Jake would be the first person to ever be drawn in by you, setting off the soft chime of the entrance, walking right up to the shelf you sat on, extending himself to gently pluck you from the rotting oak that previously held you upright, and take you home with him.

When it’s finally just you two surrounded by the shrouding walls of his bedroom, Jake would slowly run his calloused finger down your uncracked leathered spine to ease you open, gaining your trust. Eventually, your pages would unfurl themselves to him—revealing stories that breathed life into your biggest aspirations and smallest insecurities, laid bare for his naked eyes to see.

And Jake would read those inked lines, over and over again until he could recite your contents in his sleep, until his heart filled with fondness when he thought of you, until you became his favorite piece of literature.

That’s how you’d like to think of your relationship with Jake, anyway. You were something that existed solely for his mind to study, for him to understand. No one else.

Jake would never return you back to that shop, Jake would never make you feel a semblance of regret for opening up to him, Jake would never laugh at things that would wear down your stitched pages.

Oh, but he did, right in your face too.

The moment Jake’s drunk laugh spilled out his chest at Jeremy Duncan’s sloppy joke about you being so quiet he forgot you were there—it was like you entrusted a stranger to hold your red solo cup.

The same lips that read over your fear about feeling invisible, were the same ones that curled into a smile when a jab was made at you.

Rather than facing that reality head on, you glued back shut, reverting back to that lonely collection of narratives that you didn’t let anyone read. But this time, you couldn’t go running back to that high shelf that hid you away—all you could do was slowly withdraw from the person who took you off of it.

Jake knew you needed solitude at times, and he respected that, it was how you recharged your energy after any social event.

So, for the last few days he let you do just that. He let you wordlessly walk past him when he tried to reach out for you to join him on the couch. He let you say less and less to him when he just wanted to hear your voice over dinner, afraid he might forget how it sounded. He let you sneak out earlier each day, just so you could avoid walking to class with him.

He let you do all of that, suppressing his slight worry—until he picked up on how you would nervously stand outside his door at random points in the night, only to eventually go back to your own room. And to make matters worse, if Jake hadn’t been staying up late, racking his brain about you rather than sleeping, he wouldn’t have even noticed that you started to do that.

Jake knew you needed solitude at times, but he also knew that something was wrong.

So, that’s when he decided to stop letting you walk away from him, because it was starting to plague him with concern at this point.

But, when Jake weakly trailed past your door frame, and kneeled at your seated figure at the corner of your bed, you flinched when he instinctively extended his hands to hold yours.

Refusing to meet his stare, you miss the subtle traces of disappointment that flit across his features.

“You..don’t want me touching you?” Jake’s quiet voice is colored by hurt, hands cautiously dropping to fiddle with the cuffs of your loose sweatpants instead. You at least let him do that, because it keeps him at a distance, because the fabric he’s gently playing with acts as a safeguard between you and him.

Gaze casted down into your lap, you reverently shake your head. “No, Jake,” you refuse him, your own strained voice mirroring his own.

If you were merely a book, he’d laugh at the way you awkwardly sat, he’d playfully bump shoulders with the same people who looked through you like you weren’t there.

With that, he feels an unsettling guilt well up inside his stomach, rising up to his throat like bile. “Okay, I see. Will you tell me what I did wrong then?” Jake sucks in deep breath, only releasing it when he sees you let out a somewhat steady breath for yourself.

Even when a burn spreads through his lungs for what feels like a full minute, he still doesn’t feel deserving when he goes to cool it, not when you probably don’t think he’s deserving of it either.

“No, Jake,” you reinforce, shoulders beginning to tremble from the pressure of refusing him, from the pressure of closing yourself back up.

If you were merely a book, you wouldn’t let him take you into his careful hands, he’d only read your unshared secrets to the world.

For Jake, it feels almost sinful to hold himself back from soothing his palms over your shaking body. His fingers clutch the ankles of your pants tighter, a desperate bid for solace. “Please, talk to me princess,” he helplessly begs, not knowing what else to do with himself. “You won’t even come into my room.”

“No, Jake,” you repeat, unaware of the tear that glides down your cheek. “You laughed, when Jeremy said I was practically invisible. You laughed at me.” The crack of your spine urges you to stay resilient like you did before, but the crack of your spine can’t help how much it aches for him to gently coax it again.

Jake stills as realization washes down on him, chest unwinding at your explanation.

If you were merely a book, you would want to be perched on that shelving unit. You don’t need Jake to be drawn in by what your pages held, you don’t need him to not feel put off by the plain cover that held you together. You don’t need—

Without a warning, Jake scoops you up from where you’re sitting, forcing you to encircle your legs around his middle as he leads you into the threshold of his room.

“I laughed because I thought it was the stupidest shit I ever heard,” he carefully explains, keeping you in lap as he goes to sit on his sheets. “You’re funny if you think I didn’t tell him off the morning after,” he continues, recounting the string of threats that fell off his tongue when found Jeremy after class.

When you finally look at him, cheeks sticky from streaky tears and waterlogged lashes fluttering at him, Jake feels his heart swell in his chest. Naturally, he goes to playfully tousle your hair, gently, mindful of the migraine that tends to follow after your crying.

If you were merely a book, he would have corners of the most important pages gently folded in, ingraining each word and punctuation mark that made you vulnerable into his memory.

“Jake, what would you do if I was a book?” You ask through a weak smile, heart gently throbbing as you notice the tenderness reflected in his eyes.

Smoothing down the hair he’s ruffled with both hands, Jake gives your question some thought. “Is this one of those, would you love me if I was a worm kinda questions?”

Clutching the hems of his shirt between your hands for solace, you nod at him, waiting for one of those lighthearted responses he always gives you.

But sensing that you’d want a genuine answer instead, Jake gives you just that.

“If you were a book,” he starts, brushing strands of hair behind your ears. “I would never get sick of reading you princess. Think you’d be my favorite,” and he means it.

#ears open #fake it #jake seresin blurb

187 notes · View notes

megumimania · 1 year

Text

connie x black! fem reader, in a connie brain rot need him real bad i fear !! likes and reblogs r greatly appreciated <3

best friend!connie who has known you since you were toddlers, with there not being a memory in his life that you weren’t apart of.

best friend!connie who always picks up when you call, whether it’s talking shit about someone or picking an outfit for an event, he’s always there for you

best friend!connie who joins you when you go to the nail salon to get your nails done, often asking for a matching design with you

best friend!connie who always pays for everything despite you constantly reminding him that you can pay for things yourself, saying that his grandma would roll in her grave knowing that he’s letting a pretty girl like you buy things with her own money

best friend!connie who likes catching you off guard when he compliments you which happens like all the time tbh

best friend!connie whose bald head makes him a perfect impromptu wig stand but when he gets bored of being your test subject, he’s quick to make you work for that wig by making you chase him for it 😭

best friend!connie who loves taking candid shots of you when you guys hang out with his captions being so ambiguous that people don’t know if you’re dating or not

best friend!connie who is your biggest hype man, always reposting your shit and changing his pfp to a pic you recently posted

best friend!connie who still calls you by your childhood nickname to this day, only saying your name when shit gets serious or when he wants to scare you.

best friend!connie who doesn’t reply when people ask if you guys are dating, preferring to let them believe what they want

best friend!connie who is the only person that knows you inside out and vice versa. he always knows when its time for you guys to head out from your body language

best friend!connie who feels slightly territorial when a guy approaches you to ask you out even though he knows you can hold your own

best friend!connie who always helps you detangle and style your hair when its wash day (i wish someone could do this 4 me omds 😔🙄)

best friend!connie who puts on your bonnet on your head when you’re too tired to do it yourself

best friend!connie who stays over at your house so much, he practically lives there, i mean he literally has a spare key to your house

best friend!connie who is always eating your food like damnn 😭

“con, how the hell have you been here for 3 days and managed to clear out our entire fridge??” you said staring at the fridge dumbfounded

“im a growing boy sweetheart i gotta eat! plus you know I’ll pay your mama back for the food i ate anyways” he replied with a smile

“i’m a growing boy, my ass.” you muttered to yourself storming out of the kitchen.

(dw connie bought you wingstop later that day to make it up to you.)

best friend!connie who will ride for you until the very end because you are one of the people outside his family that he actually cares for

best friend!connie who loves you more than you know and is grateful for your presence in his life

#attack on titan #x black fem reader #connie x reader #connie x black reader #looking for my connie in a world of flochs 😞#me and who #x black reader #aot #connie springer #i love him #vina writes: aot #black writblr

360 notes · View notes

evil-urchin · 11 days

Text

Kat’s Character Overanalysis of Murasaki

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

The content below may exhibit multiple instances of confirmation bias due to over a year of brain rotting.

Do not proceed if you dislike excessive analysis of characters that only appear in official tweets and random merchandise.

I treat this guy like an oc so don’t be mean to me ok 💔 just my headcanons and personal observations!!!

Viewer discretion is advised…

Ok so I'm going to start with the basic stuff (i.e. inkipedia)

From 2015-2018(?) Murasaki was the drummer for the band Squid Squad. He was the youngest member of the group.

While this excerpt from Inkipedia may seem small, there are a lot of traits described here that can be further analyzed (if you have nothing better to do)

The Squid Research Lab describes him as rough around the edges.

The term "rough around the edges" is used to describe something that has small imperfections, but is generally good. When describing a person it can mean someone who is unsophisticated or impolite. In this instance, "rough around the edges" could be describing Murasaki's drumming skills as he's said to have potential, but he also needs some practice.

this characterization was probably made to resemble his appearance as well! (sea urchins don't have very smooth edges...)

2. Murasaki is referred to as a wild child.

A "wild child" is usually someone (likely a young person) who is headstrong, rebellious, and/or uncontrollable. To me, this info matches nicely with the impolite interpretation of the phrase "rough around the edges."

3. From here, it sort of goes on about his playing which I sort of addressed in the first point. Basically, he has a natural gift in drumming because he has a good sense of rhythm, and despite lacking in technique, he always tries his best.

4. He is prone to crying

The Squid Research Lab states that he could be caught crying during a drum solo which goes to show how much effort he puts into his playing :). I feel like this part tends to override his other traits in fan stuff (if he gets included at all). I personally view this as a subversive aspect of his personality. Normally he has an abrasive personality because of the rebelliousness and lack of manners, but he is also a sentimental person and his emotions are expressed through tears even if he isn’t sad (samee). Think of how urchins have a spiky hard external shell that hides soft uni inside of it ok...

5. Energetic

I know the energy think is probably referring to his playing style, but I picture him to be a fidgety person who doesn't like to stand still. I guess it matches with the wild child thing.

6. He's the youngest

Expains the previous behavior. rude + rebellious + more talent than practice. teenager.

Moving onto other sources! Bye Inkipedia...

Here is the original japanese text of the Squid Research Lab info on twitter. Yes, I know google translate isn't that accurate, but I think it's interesting and deepl says something similar as well.

7. Ignoring the strange grammar, Murasaki is additionally described as mischievous (やんちゃ?). Definition: playful in a naughty or teasing way or troublesome/irritating.

I guess this was translated into the wild child in the english version because I'm assuming the term in japanese refers to more childish behavior. I think the word mischievous is easier to understand though since I've never heard the term wild child before. Anyway, he's silly.

8. I sort of glossed over this in the english version but apparently he can take the lead when it matters most. In english, the phrasing kinda made this confusing. I thought they were just saying words lol. Anyway, this ties in with him trying his best while in the band + being compassionate/sentimental.

topic-adjacent kinda. I've seen people interpret this in a sort of sad way, but I interpret this as him being mischievous! I think he's walking towards them to scare them. The little star next to his head reminds me of the animal crossing mischief emote.

another bonus thing because it shows that hes silly. a silly goose. I think he likes to doodle.

God I haven't even gotten to the splatune articles yet...

yeah this kinda repeats what I already said but here it says his playing fits well with Ichiya. I think that both of them are kinda similar. Both are sort of lacking in technique but make up for it in other areas. Both have ADHD (lying). To me, Murasaki is if an asshole turned out to be kind, and Ichiya is if a kind person turned out to be an asshole. #crazy

Splatune 1! No more numbered list I forgot what number I was on :)

Cool and edgy urchin

I have no idea what that means. Ok.

Cool means cool.

I don’t know if they mean edgy in the internet way because ???... Anyway, edgy can mean: 1. tense, nervous, or irritable, 2. trend setting, daring, or provocative. I think the word choice was for the sake of an urchin pun.

I think they meant to convey the second definition by saying hes cool and unconventional (I don't think it makes sense to say someone is cool and nervous in the same sentence). Kind of matches with being rough around the edges. I like to apply the first definition sometimes though. I like to stress him out.

he boldly pushes up to the front like a blaster

information about his drum playing is information about his personality! this relates to his previously described energetic playing. I like how this sort of frames him as unusual compared to other drummers. It shows how his playing style relates to his character... energetic, headstrong, he can lead the way if necessary. all things previously stated.

mean to him :(

I think this is trying to say how the others keep him around even though he doesn't match the theme. They keep him around because he looks cool? (this information is probably useless because machine translator. grain of salt)

very brief splatune 3 cameo

can drink in bars now? (old...)

likes to talk in circles (old...)

looks depressed now. aware of the horrors... evil leg bouncer...

thats it for official stuff i think. I like to add on bonus traits to him during the front roe era, but yeag ✌️

#what a cute character design does to a mf #splatbands #splatband #splatoon bands #splatoon #squid squad #front roe #murasaki splatoon #003soy #003soss #my headcanons #idk #sorry for typos

31 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 11 months

Note

Ari… you know you must elaborate on dad Gojo… do it for the father fuckers like me ❤️

cw ; dead dove: do not eat, dark content, father / daughter incest, manipulation / coercion, reader has their own set of problems <3, use of the word daddy + papa at some point 18+

a/n ; answering u aleks. my brother (gn. pun not intended) in arms. also this is just. thirst becausde my brain is rotted with no sleep

i am . just . well

i just wonder you know. how gojo copes with you bringing boys home. the thing is gojo loves you so terribly. he has since the minute you were born. fatherhood is a little different to mentorship and it is so different having a child mold by the palms of his own hands to raise.

gojo is a busy man through your childhood but he's adoring. but he's sweet and tender. all through his life - you may as well be the only person who never resents the fact he was born. always looked at him so warmly, approval seeking and affectionate. you were always a little shy - but when gojo was away long enough you would come crawling into his arms and crying.

that habit of yours never changes. you have all encompassing love for your father and you let it embody you. it doesn't occur to him how much his absence and frivolity ruined you until you're twenty and you come onto him. and he must've ruined you a little too, because he doesn't have the courage to stop you. gojo can't see it as wrong, though he tries his very best.

but ultimately the scales of wrong and right do not like the same for gojo satoru as they do everyone else. gojo encourages you to take what you need. there's a sense of normalcy as the lines blur, a relationship that is so rotted from the inside out that you can't remember what it looked like before. rot is a strong color, a strong taste.

even ruined things can look beautiful, he figures.

when you start bringing home boyfriends - it's then when gojo realizes that these feelings can no longer be solved by seeing you or hugging you or playing father. gojo is the man of the house. the one of your life. so he makes it a habit. leaves the crack of your bedroom door open at night when they come to visit, and lets himself into your room. you're the same, groggy as you stir awake.

he gives it time. makes sure they take the guest bedroom right across the hall. he attends to you, a nightly routine. his darling girl who always cries for her father, for her papa she loves so much. maybe it's only natural you get along so well with him. he starts slow. kisses gently but works his way down your neck. you've grown into a woman, with soft breasts and hips that feel firm and heavy in his palms.

but he likes when you leave those frilly little socks and shorts on when he fucks you. his beautiful daughter who accepts him. who wants him. he wants you too. he wants the boy you've brought home to listen to the sound you're making as he sheathes his cock into you so slowly.

his hand on your tummy as you face the door, your back to his chest with you both on your side. gojo loves the way you whine when he ruts himself into you so slow and so deep. your crying is comforting, you know? to him anyways.

gojo fucks you good and hard and makes sure there's enough hot noise to travel through the house until that silly boy you've brought over wakes up. gojo stares with a wicked smile when he defiles you right in front of them. sometimes they look on in horror.

other time they look on in awe and arousal, as you pussy swells and stretches for him. as you cum so sweetly all for your daddy who you love so much. those boys always last a little longer than the others.

you always come crying to him when you break-up, and gojo always cheers you up how he knows best, rocking you in his lap - so deep you can't do anything but cling to his shoulders.

a feeling he wants to keep trapped in time forever and ever.

#return to sender #incest cw #dark content cw #hard incest cw #prettyboy.thirsts #a.gojo #man....

110 notes · View notes

munv · 9 months

Text

𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗜 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘?

I sat for so long..ion know maybe even a week fully thinking about this chapter and now..here I am. I kinda wanna make this chapter longer so bear w me

I’m decaying right now because I’m posting chapter 7 immediately after this. I wanted to get this out of my head because the Brain rot is too much. Giving gojo content next chapter because I’ve been giving y’all scraps

Riko and Gojo both splashed and jumped into the water getting ready to have fun, “MENSORE!” As of the moment you were in Okinawa on a nice sunny day. But let’s backtrack in a bit.

You sat down in a casual t-shirt and a shorts, it’s not like you weren’t going to swim but you just had brought it upon yourself to go per request and match with your little sister.

While she wore a ruffled turquoise swimsuit you had on a shirt that matched that theme while the bottoms were white. You had a f/c one underneath them anyways so you didn’t see a issue.

Taking a sip out of your juice while you laid underneath a umbrella and beach towel you tuned into suguru and Kuroi’s conversation. “I can’t believe I let myself get captured by the star religious group..nonetheless a non sorcerer at that” kuroi buried her face in her hands while you reassuringly pat her back. “How embarrassing..” suguru turned to look at her also attempting to assure the caretaker.

“You couldn’t help the fact that they caught you off guard” a apologetic smile made way onto his face, “part of the blame lies with me too.” She then started to question herself and voiced her question. “Was I..really caught off guard?” All 3 of you started to flashback.

After receiving the news about Kuroi you rushed to the site. Currently you were in the hallway closing near to the room they kept her hostage in.

Gojo had his infinity on and you had a field of electricity as a coating layer for his infinity since neither of you really had the energy to deal with anyone. After fighting together for a while you two figured your techniques could become even more effective if put together.

“Whoever kidnapped Kuroi is gonna pay!” Amanai said approvingly. “Mai..don’t go too close to the coating it might shock you” you reminded her. “Ah right!”

“She should be in this room” suguru pointed to a barricaded door in front of you all. “Easy!” The white haired male had went forward deactivating his infinity and kicked it down with immense strength. Along with the door two men went flying as well. Gojo gave you a high five with a blessed expression. “You did good for once you snow head.” “Gah! N/N that’s not nice!”

Riko immediately rushed to Kuroi who was tied up on the floor. “Kuroi!” She fell to the floor to her caretakers eye level. “You’re okay!” She smiled.

Meanwhile suguru was trying to hold you and gojo back from actually killing the two men in the room with you. “Suguru..Let.me.kill.them and maybe I’ll let you keep your ballsack.”

He held a grim expression just thinking about what you were planning while gojo was pouting beside you. “You’re no fun suguru..” he mumbled. “You two are such a handful” he uttered.

“You probably don’t have much memories of being attacked do you, kuroi?” You asked sympathizing with her.

“Ah, you’re right but there’s something that has kept me worried..”

You and geto looked at her questioningly. “You all came here by plane? You weren’t attacked or anything right?”

“Satoru has good eyes so before taking off he checked over the passengers and stuff.” He said with a smile talking about his best friend. You got a little bored with the conversation so you decided to shuffle from kuroi’s side to suguru and lay your head down on his lap. Without thinking much he accepted your advances and started playing with your hair.

“While we were inside my cursed spirit kept watch as well which was safer than using a land route. However..I’m more curious as to why they used Okinawa for the exchange.”

You picked up a paper looking over it. “Perhaps it was to buy time?” You said finally eager to respond. Suguru looked over your head and to the paper as well which was supposedly your planning page. “Even if they failed to kill riko-sama, they could keep her from making tomorrows full moon deadline.”

You’re eyes landed on the last squared part at the end of the paper with eyes narrowing. ‘Assilimate with Tengen-sama after sunset!’ It had a little chibi your sister drew as well. Completely tuning out of the conversation you thought of what would happen when they really do go through with the mission. It’s not like you were really around in Riko’s life like that anyways but you both knew you did it for a good reason.

You still made time to spend with her, and it’s not like she resented you for not always being there. You were there majority of her life and she still had Kuroi. Yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to go against the idea since it’s offices she must merge with Tengen. If it wasn’t guaranteed you wouldn’t be on this mission and wasting time around.

You stopped zoning down when you felt two taps on your head and saw suguru smiling down on you before looking back out to gojo and riko playing in the water together with a serious expression.

“Thought it is getting close..” you lifted your head from the warm place you had made on his lap and he got up to approach the two. “Satoru! It’s time.” Currently gojo was laughing at riko who had initially fell down in the water completely soaked then she was earlier. You got up to approach riko and bent down with a towel in hand. “Can you do it yourself or should i do it instead just like when you were little?” You said with a teasing grin on your face. She looked at you and turned away with a embarrassed expression. “I’m not a baby anymore..” she mumbled

Ignoring her words you sat down in front of her and began drying her hair. “You’re still my younger sister Yknow, it’s my job to take care of you.”

“It’s that time already?” The white haired male’s smile quickly swept off his face and riko looked down with a crestfallen expression. Gojo looked back on the two of you and he came up with a sudden thought.

“Suguru, let’s head back tomorrow morning instead. Besides..there are fewer curse users in Okinawa than Tokyo.” The two of them separated from the group to discuss a new plan.

Kuroi approached you and riko who were now standing and plucked a starfish from your hair. “Young master, look it’s a starfish!”

You turned to look at the tiny starfish now held in her hands. “Huh? How’s that get there.” You said braiding riko’s hair back in one. Gojo and suguru then approached you 3 once again “new plans! We’re staying for a while longer!” He said giving a thumbs up. Riko sprung up from your embrace with a equally excited expression. “YES!”

You went beside suguru and looked at him with a raised brow, “and how did he manage to convince you?” With a playful tone. He let out a sigh meeting your gaze, “don’t remind me..”

TAG-LIST: @tabbycake @thebigcheez @sattosugu @sammyiguess @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 @boo-kugo @vile-woman @96jnie @itsmekalou @tojisworm69 @bbynday @str4wpuddin @whats-humanity-lol

72 notes · View notes

so-many-fandoms-here · 1 year

Text

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice <3)

• Characters: Suguru Niragi (kinda ooc), fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, slight smut at the end

• Warnings: mentions of violence, guns, death and sex

It’s not a goodbye, it’s a see you soon

Part 1 | Part 2

𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼

Your original plan was to surprise Niragi. Your heart beat like it tried to escape your body when you left the airport heading to the trains, and it really started to hurt when you left the train again heading to his old apartment where he used to live with his parents, hoping at least his parents would be there. What if he doesn‘t want to see you? What if he doesn‘t like you anymore? You were so deep in your thoughts that you weren’t even bothered by those weird guys, almost knocking you over because they tried to run away from the police. The last thing you noticed was the sudden fireworks in the middle of the day.

And now you are here. Wherever here is. Yes, you’re in japan but everything is different. The majority of the people who suppose to live here is gone, only few are left but none of them has a single clue what the fuck is going on.

So you walk trough the streets, scared for your life, as you should as you will find out a tiny bit later. Not knowing what to do and afraid of every step you take you decide that you will die a lot faster if you are alone and it’s the best if you find a group of people.

After a few miles you see a ramen restaurant, or more whats left of it. You gently knock on the door, not sure what you wish more for, that someone really opens the door or that it remains closed. You are just about to leave, thinking the building is empty, when the door opens and a woman, not much older than you looks through the crack. „I‘m scared“, you whisper after a while where the woman just stares at you. Then she opens the door completely, asking you to come in.

Maybe she will kill me, you think to yourself, deciding that it isn’t a big issue, since something or someone is probably gonna kill you in this fucked up world anyways soon. Turns out there are a lot of people inside, about twenty you guess. You let yourself sink on a chair and feel how the exhaustion hits you and right after the woman closed the door again she asks: „Do you know anything about this world?“

You tell her what you already know. Something about games and visas that will kill you if they run out but that you haven’t been able to put everything together so that it makes sense. And then the people tell you what they know and a tiny part in your brain wishes that you would have stayed clueless.

The group of twenty has soon become a group of fifteen, then ten, then four and with every death you see, you become colder. At first you saw a person who lived, who loved, who cried, who went to school so they could get their dream job. Now you see corpses, waiting for the time to rot away what makes them look human. It’s not like you don’t care. You know very well that if you get the chance you will break down, cry, scream and throw up but now you have to function. You have to survive to get the chance to break down in the first place.

The last game you played split the group of the remaining four completely. One died, the other doesn’t want to leave the corpse and the last one just disappeared right after the game ended. Now you stand here again, alone just like on the first day. Your eyes focused on the corpse of your comrade. You ask yourself if it’s even worth all of it. Is Niragi still alive? Will you ever see him again? Or will you die before you find him or whats left of him?

„Are you alone?“ you turn around to the person who disturbed you in your hopelessness. „Yes“, you say not caring anymore if he would rape or kill you. „Come with me.“ You act like you think about it so that he won’t think you are naive, but you already decided that you will go with him. Everywhere is better than being alone again. „Where are we going?“ you ask after you two already walked for he while. „The Beach“, he says leaving you just as clueless as before. You don’t feel like asking any more questions so you just follow him, hoping he would actually bring you somewhere.

Turns out that The Beach is in fact a resort, now filled with hundreds of people who are trapped here too. The guy brings you to another man, who called himself Hatter and was the founder of this… yeah whatever this is. He explains a bit about how the things roll here. You can eat, drink, sleep, have sex, anything you want as long as you give him the cards you earn when you win a game. Fine with me, you think as you go to the room he gave you the key for. It was almost to good to be true. The only thing you have to worry about now are the games.

Although you were still beyond exhausted after you sleep for at least ten hours, you are too curious about this place to just stay in bed until you have to do the next game. So you stand up, put on a bikini hatter gave you which obviously is part of some weird dresscode, try to memorize exactly where you room is and then you head off towards the pool downstairs.

The pool is full with people laughing, drinking and fucking. Music is playing and everyone around seems to be pretty happy too. It is a bit unsettling seeing laughing people in the situation you’re all in but you also get that they maybe try to ignore it all too. Maybe would cry and scream too when they get the chance too. You look around and see a tiny group of girls about your age sitting on a table so you take all the courage you have and approach them, praying you will find a group again. To your relief the girls are super nice and gladly adopting you into their group.

After a bit chitchat and one way too sweet cocktail you feel yourself easing up a bit and damn, no amount of sleep could have you regain your energy that quickly. After ten hours of sleeping your body may be rested but not your mind. Talking to these girls about normal things, and not the cruel reality and a few sips alcohol really helps to keep your sanity.

You are laughing about a joke one of the three cracked when you first hear steps behind and then feel a presence beside you. The girls are quietly looking at you, almost looking afraid. You try to keep calm. Don’t let whoever is beside you think that you are weak in any sort of way. „Who have we here?“, the mysterious person asks and you freeze. Not because the others did freeze too, not because of the barrel of the gun that digs into your back, it was the voice that makes you freeze. The voice you know better than anyone else’s, even tho it sounds a bit different. „You’re the new one I suppose.“ There was something in the tone that makes him sound insane but you know it’s him. It’s the man you collected from the floor after he got beaten up. The man who you started fights for. The man who bleed over the floor and the sink because his bullies pushed a needle through his tongue. The man who‘s name you moaned when you felt like you and him would mold together. „Suguru?“, you whisper as you slowly turn your heads toward him. He is right in the middle of licking his lips and showing his tongue piercing off when it hits him like a stroke. As fast as possible he removes his rifle from your back, not able to do anything else.

You were already in the middle of thinking about how he doesn’t recognize you anymore when he grabs your wrist and storms off with you. „What are you doing?“, you ask without getting an answer. He drags you along the floors until he stops in front of a door, the one to his room you assume. He unlocks it, drags you inside, closes the door again and presses you against the wall, almost locking you into the corner of the room. Your back hurts because of the edge of the door you’re leaning against.

„What are you doing here?“ he asks, completely out of breath. „I could ask the same“, you reply, overwhelmed with everything that is happening right now. „What are you doing in japan?!“ he asks more specifically this time. Heat rises up to your ears and you can’t look him in the eyes at first, because you were afraid how he would react. Just like when you told him you’re moving away.

„I wanted to surprise you“, you eventually admit, still looking at the floor. „I wanted to go to the apartment you used to live in, hoping at least your parents would be there and that they would tell me where I would find you.“ It takes everything on strength that’s left inside your body but you look up, right into his dark eyes. „I told you it‘s not a goodbye.“ A weak smile appears on your lips but because of Niragis lack of reaction it dies right away. „It’s okay if you are overwhelmed with the situation. I understand. I also understand if you don’t want too see me at all. It‘s just“ As you notice that your voice is about to crack you stop and act like you have to clear your throat before you continue. „I missed you. And I feel dumb to admit it but I hoped you missed me too. I hoped you would still like me.“ After you say it out loud you realize how stupid, how naive it was. You silently wait for Niragi to say something, to scream at you or to kick you out but nothing like this happens. You even expect that he points his gun back against you but he just stands there looking at you with the same shocked expression he has since he saw you ten minutes ago.

You take a breath to say something, not sure what exactly yet but you don’t have to think of any words anyways. First you hear him dropping his gun, then he forces his lips so hard on yours that your teeth clash together. Everything happens in the blink of an eye and you need a second to process everything. As soon as your brain starts working again you place your hands on either side of his face and try to pull him even closer to you. You melt into his arms and you almost forget where you are as his tongue glides into your mouth, dancing with your own. The metal of the piercing, almost as warm as his tongue itself, glides clacking over your teeth. You two part for a second which you take to admire his face. „I knew the piercings would suit you“, you breath, guiding your hand up his head, over the piercings on his eyebrows, then over his nostril and down again, back to his cheek. He laughs quietly and just as he wants to kiss you again someone aggressively knocks at the door.

Niragi, obviously more than annoyed, looks up against the wooden door and yells. „What do you want?“ „You’re still on patrol!“, the voice on the other side of the door answers. „You can fuck that bitch later.“

His annoyance turns into blind rage after the comment of the other guy. He quickly pushes you away from the door, picks up his rifle, opens the door and aims straight at the head of the man in front of him. „Watch out who you call a bitch“, he warns. „It’s rather funny to blow someones brains out.“ With that he turns back to you. „I will pick you up later, that’s fine with you?“ You nod, smiling wide. While leaving you let your hand glide across Niragis upper arm as you pass by, giving him one last grin before you head off to the girls on the pool again.

The girls don’t dare to ask what that was with Niragi and you and so you four continue your chat about everything and anything, acting like nothing happened.

Niragi in the meantime tries to go past the pool as often as possible so he can at least catch a short gaze of you here and there. Today it feels like he is walking for forever around those stupid environment. But then, eventually, they let him go. If his pride wouldn’t be that high he would run to you but instead he tries to act cool even though his insides scream.

With his gun thrown over his shoulder he leans down, his head right next to yours, tongue showing off the piercing, then he whispers: „Let’s head back to my room and continue where we were disturbed. Sounds good?“ You move his hand towards his face, acting like you want to hold him by his chin and sneaky pressing your middle- and ringfinger right at the spot where you assume his main artery. Smiling knowingly about the fact how fast his heart races you stand up and take his hand. This time you are the one that drags him away from the others. As soon as you two were inside the building and no one was near, he suddenly stops and pulls you back to him. „What was that about?“, he asks, not needing an answer. He knows. „Your heart races“, you reply anyways, voice almost melodious.

In his room he makes sure his gun is secured before he throws it next to the bed. Then he grabs both of your hands, sits down and pulls you in his lap. As soon as his hands are all over your body again you realize how bad you missed him. It hits you like a wave and you put all your love and affection into the kisses you shower him with. His lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, nothing is left out as his hands roam over your body. He wishes he could touch you everywhere at the same time and crawl inside you, laying his head on your heart to feel your heartbeat all the time. „Did you had many relationships?“, his voice is shaking a little bit because he’s not sure if he really wants to know. „A few but never something serious“, you answer honestly, then stopping the assault on his neck to look him in his eyes. You see the storm inside them and all the pain he had to deal with alone while you were gone. „What about you?“ „Fucked around a lot. Literally. But never anything serious either.“

While you look at him, he realizes that the piece of his heart that went with you was in good hands. He did expect that when you will hand it back to him, it’s already dead. Stabbed by a knife without you even noticing it was with you the whole time. But here he is. He may be in a twisted world full of murder and slaughter but you are here too. Right here, right now, sitting in his lap so for now he lets The Beach be The Beach, the games be the games and just focuses on the moment right now. Focuses on your lips, your skin, his erection caused by you. „You won’t be leaving me again, you hear?“, he says while letting his hand slips underneath your bikinitop and feeling your bare breast fitting perfectly in his hand. „You‘re mine“, he whispers again. „You’re mine and I’m yours.“ The words seep through your ears into your whole body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin behind.

You reach behind your back, opening the strings of your top and letting it drop to the floor. It didn’t even took five more minutes until you lay under him, his naked body pressed against yours. And you still feel his heart racing. „Are you nervous?“, you ask, being one hundred percent sure he won’t answer honestly. And of curse you are right. „Me? Never“, he lies, chuckling. „Are you?“ You think for a second. „A little bit. You are a whole new man.“ Dark eyes looking down in your own, telling you what he would never say out loud. He changed, but not the way he feels about you.

#aib #alice in borderland #fanfiction #alice in borderland x reader #x reader #alice in borderland x y/n #aib x reader #aib x y/n #smut #fluff #angst #slight smut #suguru niragi #niragi alice in borderland #alice in borderland niragi #niragi x reader #niragi suguru #niragi smut #niragi fluff

146 notes · View notes

lilcatdraws · 11 days

Text

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter One - Jack

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism

Chapter Summary: Jack is introduced and we get a glimpse into his childhood and teen years.

Author’s Note: I finally finished the first chapter and came up with a title! (Title may change because it’s kinda dumb. I was scraping my brain for ideas okay) Anyway the first chapter came out shorter than I expected but the next chapters should be a lot longer 🤞 I’m super excited about this story! I’ve been planning this for a while. I hope you enjoy <3

The cool night air blew in Jack’s face as he whizzed down the pavement on his skateboard. He was on the main road but he didn’t care. Nobody was out during this time of night.

The small town was quiet. Businesses were closed and porch lights were on. The only sounds to be heard were crickets chirping and the flickering gas station lights at the end of the road.

Jack came out here often to get away and clear his head. He loved to skateboard and he was good at it too. He didn’t like skating with the other kids in town so he stayed clear of the rink. The streets were his safe haven.

He glanced down at his watch and decided it was time to head home. His mom would be worried. He shifted his weight to his back foot on the tail of the board, braked, and turned around.

He dreaded the thought of going back. His father would be home. No doubt yelling at his mother for something she did “wrong.” There was no telling what kind of mess he would walk into once he got home.

He left the main road and turned onto his street. It wasn’t long before he reached his house. The house was one story tall and painted white with a front deck built by his father. The deck had withered and rotted with time. Some of the boards were missing. His father had yet to fix it. Their home was plain but got the job done for a family of three people.

Jack went around back where his bedroom window was. He pushed the window open and tossed his skateboard onto his bed. Then he hoisted himself up and climbed inside. He closed the window, listening intently to his parents in the kitchen.

Just as he predicted his father was shouting at his mother again. From the sound of his voice Jack could tell he was drunk. What else was new?

“Why is the food cold?!” His father yelled.

“You told me you would be home at 6. You got here at 9:30.” His mother told him calmly.

Jack heard a loud smack and his mother scream. That was his que. He cracked his door open and stuck his head out to see what was going on. His mother was on the floor and his father stood over her, beating and berating her. Jack saw enough and sprung into action.

“Leave her alone!” He shouted and shoved his father away.

The drunk then turned his anger towards Jack and shoved him to the ground. He kicked him in the stomach repeatedly. Jack grunted in pain. He assumed his usual position and curled into a ball to protect himself.

“Scott, no! Stop! Leave him out of this!” His mother cried but was ignored.

“Shut up, you stupid bitch!” Scott shouted and didn’t hold back beating his son.

Eventually he became bored and stopped. He turned to his wife and snarled, “I’m goin’ out. Next time you better do as I tell you.”

With that he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Once Jack was sure he was gone, he uncurled himself and rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes and sighed. His mother, Jacqueline, sat upright and gazed at her son sadly.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Jack smiled softly. “I wanted to.”

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Eh, I’ll probably have bruises later but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“I have every reason to worry about you. Come here.”

Jack crawled over to his mom and she pulled him into a hug. She kissed his cheek.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. It isn’t your fault.”

“It’s not yours either, mama. He’s just an asshole.”

Jacqueline eyed him for cursing but agreed nonetheless. Jack rested his head on her shoulder. She stroked his long brown hair and laughed to herself.

“What?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You need a haircut.” Jacqueline told him and pointed to his curly strands cascading past his shoulder blades.

“Nope. I’m keeping it this way for as long as I can.”

“Uh huh. What are you gonna do when you enlist?”

“Cut it off since I have to. But once I get out I’m growing it back.”

Jacqueline shook her head. She glanced up at the time.

“You better get to sleep. It’s getting late.”

Jack nodded and helped his mother stand up. She kissed his cheek one more time and then they retreated to their bedrooms for the night.

Jack stripped down to just his t-shirt and boxers. After moving his skateboard from his bed to the floor, he climbed into bed and curled up underneath the covers. It felt good to finally lay down. He was exhausted.

It hurt a little to lay on his side because of the bruises that were now forming but he was used to it. There was rarely a night where Jack slept without any discomfort. His father had been beating him for as long as he could remember.

The booze wasn’t entirely to blame. Scott Napier was extremely short tempered and quick to violence. The alcohol only heightened it. How his mother ended up with him Jack never knew. Most likely it was one of those situations where someone doesn’t realize they’re in an abusive relationship until it’s too late.

Jack closed his eyes and tried to forget about his father so he could fall asleep. He often tried to block out the abuse but each time Scott beat him, it brought back the memories all over again. Sometimes in the form of nightmares and other times through random flashbacks throughout the day.

He was 17 now and becoming a young man but that didn’t stop him from wanting to curl up underneath his covers and cry himself to sleep like he did when he was younger.

He rolled onto his back and gazed at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“My leg hurts, Mommy.” Jack whimpered into his mother’s chest.

“I know, baby. Mommy’s doing the best she can.” Jacqueline said as she bandaged the cut on Jack’s small leg caused by another one of Scott’s violent outbursts.

She finished the wrap and kissed it. “There, all better.”

…

“Come here you little shit!” Scott shouted and grabbed Jack by his shirt.

He pulled him close and struck his face. Then he hurled him into the wall. Jack got his breath back and crawled underneath his bed. He gasped when Scott grabbed his ankle and dragged him back out. Scott kicked him in the side repeatedly and then resorted to using his fists. Jack cried and begged for him to stop.

“There you go with that crying again! You’re just like your fucking mother!” Scott bellowed and kicked him hard, knocking him over.

Jack curled in on himself and sobbed.

“Stay in here and cry then!”

The door slammed and Jack was alone.

Jack sat straight up and brought himself back to the present. He breathed in shakily and slicked his hair back. The memories always kept him awake when he should be sleeping. After taking a few minutes to calm himself, he was finally able to clear his head and lay back down. Before he knew it, the comforting embrace of sleep took over and Jack was out like a light.

#ledger joker #jack napier #heath ledger #the dark knight #nolanverse #lilcat writes #cross posted on ao3

16 notes · View notes