#do not come into my survey saying that stuff man

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

Sooooo if any of you were here in May 2022, I made this survey about relationship headcanons, like who do you see as [character]'s sibling/parent, what do you consider the relationship between [character] and [character] to be, etc.

And after closing it, I started working on a slideshow type thing to spread the answers. But there were a lot of answers and I was confused about whether to use precents or raw numbers so it all got a bit confusing and I decided to put it off.

But uh. Yeah then I never touched it again so here is the raw data in a spreadsheet and below are graphs taken straight from the survey! I think the answers would be different now but they're still very interesting!

Siblings headcanons!

Tommy won as Wilbur's adopted brother with 272 votes!

And vice versa, Wilbur won as Tommy's adopted brother with 270 votes.

Tommy won as Tubbo's adopted brother with 153 votes.

I also included the three votes for Technoblade as Tubbo's adopted brother :D very cool headcanon

Drista won as Dream's biological sister with 208 votes!

With 146 votes, Purpled has no siblings! Biological brother Punz came in second with 105 votes.

With 218 votes, Ranboo has no siblings! Adoptive sister Niki came in second with 76 votes.

Skeppy Jr. won as Sapnap's step brother with 148.

I also included the two other Punz votes, interesting headcanon!

With 177 votes, Puffy has no siblings! Biological brother Schlatt came in second with 139 votes.

Parent/Child headcanons (Child specific)!

Foolish won as Puffy's adopted son with 243 votes!

With 325 votes, Wilbur has no children aside from Fundy! Adopted son Tommy came in second with 26 votes.

With 181 votes, Schlatt has no children! Biological son Tubbo came in second with 120 votes (Dadschlatt enjoyer W).

I also included the three other votes for Fundy as Schlatt's adopted son, I wish the "you were like a father to me" line from the script had been read as well </3.

With 133 votes, Phil has no children aside from Wilbur! Adopted son Tubbo came in second with 127 votes.

With 309 votes, Technoblade has no children! Adopted child Ranboo came in second with 46 votes.

With 152 + 6 other votes, Sam has no children! Adopted son Tommy came in second with 91 votes.

I also included the two votes for Sam Nook as his son. There was another answer that said potentially all Sam clones and another that said Tom Nook. All cool headcanons!

Parent/Child headcanons (Parent specific)!

With 139 votes, Sapnap was born from fire and has no biological relationships! BBH came second with 102 votes.

The father shown in Eryn's Origins Lore Stream won as Eryn's father with 211 votes!

With 129 votes, Tommy was made in a lab and has no biological relationships! A random man came in second with 103 votes.

CaptainSparklez won as Tubbo's biological father with 115 votes!

Dynamics!

Soul bonded Skeppy and BBH won with 230 votes!

Separated, not de-engaged Karlnapity won with 113 votes!

Platonic friends Tina and Hannah won with 100 votes!

Platonic friends Quackity and Slimecicle won with 187 votes!

Political rivals Wilbur and Schlatt won with 237 votes!

Best friends Technoblade and Phil won with 297 votes!

Romantically married/together Ranboo and Tubbo won with 225 votes!

Rivals Quackity and Wilbur won with 274 votes! (There were many, many other answers)

Old friends Foolish and Eret won with 291 votes!

Broken up (previously romantic) Puffy and Niki won with 243 votes!

Broken up (previously romantic) Dream and George won with 111 votes!

Obsessive DreamXD and George won with 256 votes!

Platonic friends HBomb and Fundy won with 152 votes!

Previously romantically engaged Quackity and Schlatt won with 312 votes!

(Did those three as one image since Tumblr doesn't let you add more than 30 photos)

#Doing this has reminded me of like. oh wow. some people have. Very different views of dynamics and characters #consuming media correctly (me (has the good opinions)) #I deleted a few answers that were boundary breaking btw #do not come into my survey saying that stuff man #dsmp #dsmpblr #dream smp #dsmp headcanon #areus rambles #c!dream #<- for blocking purposes

[hanjisungslag]

Headcanons for when aot men get jealous? Maybe seeing reader and someone else spending time together and getting agitated and then dragging them away - ‘Pay attention to me not them.’ sort of vibe.

💢 aot men & jealously

characters included: eren, armin, connie, jean, reiner, bertolt, erwin and levi.

notes: this ask had me floored.

☆ eren jaeger

he caught you and reiner talking to each other AGAIN.

this has happened one too many times and eren finally loses it.

he’d definitely say something like “what about spending time with your boyfriend instead of him, hm?”

very temperamental about the whole thing..

one second he’ll be furious, next he’ll be sad, next he’ll be happy you’re back to spending time with each other

but mostly angry over it.

he storms over and pushes reiner away from you as he comes between the both of you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing with MY partner?” eren asked threateningly “woah eren we were just—” but before reiner could say anything, eren grabbed your arm and stormed off with you.

☆ armin arlert

you and jean are very close friends

too close, your boyfriend may say.

armin usually lets things slide at first, he doesn’t want to come off as overbearing or jealous

also you and jean are just friends at the end of the day, right?

but one day, you and jean are laughing away as usual and armin asks what’s so funny and you say..

“oh, it’s an inside joke. you wouldn’t get it.”

after you said this, you continued to laugh. but armin had reached his breaking point, he slammed his hands on the dinner table and rose from his seat turning to face you, “y/n. get up.” your smile drops as you also get up from your chair. you two walk out the dinner hall. armin quickly speaks up “pay attention to me, not him.”

☆ connie springer

you and berty boy were spending wayyy too much quality time together.

making you spend less time with your own boyfriend!

connie obviously took this to heart and had to do what a man’s gotta do

aka pull a prank on bert.

every single day for like 2 weeks, connie would do something just to cause him inconvenience.

just like hiding his things right before practice, stealing food off his plate, replacing his sugar with salt, messing up his laundry etc.

but now what was connie going to do with you? after he pulled one of his pranks on bert he saw you HELPING him so not only do you spend all your time with him but now you’re ruining connie’s revenge plan? nope, not happening. he slams bert’s door open not taking any notice that the both of you are trying to talk to him, he just grabs you and pulls you into the hall. “last time i checked, i was your boyfriend. so, stop acting like bert is.”

☆ jean kirstein

there was someone in the survey corps who clearly had a thing for you

but you didn’t seem to notice. supposedly.

anyways, you guys would spend quite a bit of time together especially during expeditions.

jean obviously took offence to this and what does he do?

showboats🗣️🗣️

while on an expedition, you and this guy were chatting away, killing titans, all the usual stuff. but little did you know, from the back, jean was watching all of this happening and he was getting pissed off. his anger built up so much that when it came to killing the titans be whipped out half of them on his own. everyone was super impressed and the girls started complimenting you for having such a strong, brave boyfriend.

he pulls you aside afterwards and says “that was because of you and him, you know? so, you better start paying more attention to me now.”

☆ reiner braun

there was this one guy from garrisons who adored you!

and you thought he was sweet and you’d always try and catch up with him when you could.

which reiner would say was too often.

reiner would definitely intimidate this guy with how huge he is.

it’d be intimidating even reiner wasnt massive because he was just a garrison.

he’d pump his chest out more and wrap his big arms around you in front of him to prove how much bigger and better he was.

and when it came to you, he was so mad. as you stepped away from the garrison guy, he took his arm off of you and grabbed you by the shoulders turning you to face him. “hey. you better stop talking to that fucking whimp. i’m your boyfriend.”

☆ bertolt hoover

you and connie were super close.

you both trained together, love pulling pranks and just bounce off each other so well.

some people sometimes even think you’re a couple..!

but you already have a boyfriend.

bert doesn’t like to speak up about how he feels for a while until something really tips him over the edge.

bert always used to ignore how close you and connie were, he was too shy to say anything in the first place but he also didn’t want to ruin your guys’ relationship by being jealous. that was until someone asked if you and connie were a couple. that was his final straw. he calmly walked over to you but grabbed you with a grip you wouldn’t expect from bertolt. you found yourself outside with him where he looks you dead in the eyes “unless you actually want connie to be your boyfriend, you better start paying more attention to me, y/n.”

☆ levi ackerman

you mostly worked in the offices after a bad injury.

and there was this one librarian who really took a liking to you.

but, you’re already coupled up with mr. ackerman.

levi sees you guys talking all the time. sees that you’re in the library quite a lot even when you don’t need to be.

because of this he delegated menial work to him and even you, when he’s feel mean.

but when he catches you STILL talking while doing the tasks he set for you, he loses it.

you got distracted from your task when your little librarian friend starts discussing this ancient book he discovered the other day and as you were chatting away, you heard the door creak.. you jump out of your skin, trying to return to your task but it was too late. levi had already seen you. he calmly marched towards you and pulls you away to the other end of the library “is that what i said your task was, y/n? come here, i got a better task for you like helping your boyfriend. not this cretin.”

( however at the end of the week when things were all cleared up and you ask him about it he just says “me? jealous? no, i wasn’t.” )

☆ erwin smith

you and mike were working a little too closely lately.

erwin saw the way mike looked at you longingly

at first he thought it was nothing, he wasn’t even jealous!

until mike starts getting more physical

a shoulder brush here, a slight hand touch there

after this, he fully loses it.

erwin side eyes you and mine when he sees his hand gently brush up against yours, it could be pure accident but erwin couldn’t care less. he had gone too far. he marched over tall and mighty and swiftly stole you from mike “i’m the only man who gets to do that to you, you hear me?”

#anime and manga #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #aot #aot headcanons #aot imagines #aot angst #aot jealous #jealous #angst #shingeki no kyojin #snk x y/n #snk x reader #eren headcanons #armin headcanons #jean headcanons #reiner headcanons #bertolt headcanons #levi headcanons #erwin headcanons #jean kirschtein headcanons #eren jaeger #armin x reader #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #levi ackerman #levi x reader #erwin smith #aot erwin

[girlycocksleeve]

Okay just to show that like I promise I am doing stuff with the survey (cut to the 15 page paper sitting in my google docs rn but I’m not happy with it yet and I haven’t done everything I want to with the data yet), here’s like extremely preliminary stuff:

- 56% of people who took the survey were trans men, 26.2% non-binary, and 7.2% trans women. Of course there is overlap, Some legends chose all 3 options, some 2, and there are also a healthy amount of gender-fluid, bi-gender, and agender people.

-Only 2% were heterosexual, with 37% identifying as bisexual or queer, 24% homosexual, and 23% aspec or asexual.

- 58% were aged 18-22. Shoutout to the 2% of people aged 33-40. 29% were 23-27 and 11% were 28-32

- 85% of people had socially transitioned (I actually. Okay I took some liberties here because sometimes people would be like “I’ve gotten top surgery and HRT” but then wouldn’t check the social transition box but I feel like. They probably have) I did forget to put hysterectomy, that’s my bad.

- the majority (around 64%) of people who had gone ftmtf (or ftnbtf) had gotten top surgery (which is higher than the average 40% of AFAB people who had).

- I actually think it’s more interesting to look at the data from a non-binary (including everyone who didn’t choose trans man/transmasc or trans woman/trans fem. Non-binary here is more a category than a label) vs binary trans person perspective. Surprisingly binary trans people were more likely to fully detransition, but non-binary trans people were, ofc, more likely to say that this kink had helped them explore their gender identity

- Many people said that this kink helped them process trauma, rather it be from transphobia, child abuse, or sexual assault. This is in line with other studies looking at the connection between kink and trauma (not to say everyone who participates in kink has trauma, but more to say it’s an established outlet)

- AFAB people were more likely (90% of people who responded to that question) to say this kink had helped with their body image than AMAB people (only 30%) I actually haven’t gotten around to looking at non-binary vs binary for this part oops.

-41% of people have told sexual partners, with 32% not having told.

- The most common comorbid kink is breeding no matter if you’re into masculinization or feminization. AMAB people are more likely (42%) to be into hypno than AFAB people (15%)

Anyways that’s a brief summary FOR NOW. I have more in the works but. Also for the final paper these numbers are subject to change because I do still have data coming in and sometimes I go insane and change the way I’m counting things so. It shouldn’t be a massive change in terms of findings but more a change in terms of numbers (for example I’ve fucked around with categories, especially for kinks and gender and sexuality, a lot. I haven’t landed on how exactly I want to do all of this yet)

#detrans kink #forced detrans #detransition kink #ftm detrans kink #fakeboy #ftm misgendering #misgender kink #detrans me #misgenderingkink #detransitionkink #my survey

[babygirldabi]

can I get Dabi and hawks threesome headcanons or a fic 🌚 Srry I’m horny

LMAOOOOOOO aren't we all

Anyways hope you like daddy kinks and stuff

CW: Daddy kink, threesome, multiple creampies, degradation, praise, female reader, use of alcohol, let me know if I've missed anything x

There is nothing in this world that Dabi wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. 

So when he asks you what you want for your birthday, you do not hesitate to tell him the truth. 

The silence is heavy, and at first you think he’s pissed, so you can’t look him in the eye. Why did I say that Why did I say that Why did I say that

“For real?” He asks, in a voice so soft you’re forced to look up. His pupils are dilated. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth, he’s practically panting. 

“Is that weird?”

“No,” he answers, almost too quickly, then seems to collect himself. “No,” he says more slowly. You nod. 

“I know we’ve talked about it…”

And you have. Hypothetically. A while back. 

He nods. “This is what you really want?” The low gravel of his voice, deeper, somehow, when he’s aroused, makes you shiver. 

You nod, decisively. “This is what I want.”

And so, when he makes the call, he’s prepared to ask nicely. 

“I’m thinking about having whiskey tonight.” Hawks always answers Dabi’s calls as though they’re mid-conversation.

Dabi takes a drag of his cigarette before answering, leaning against the brickwork of your apartment building, lazily surveying the street. “Yeah? What kind?”

“That’s why I’m glad you called.” On the other end of the line, Hawks considers the store shelf in front of him. “Macallan or WhistlePig?”

Dabi snorts. “I drink Jack Daniels, man. Fuck if I know.”

“WhistlePig it is.” Hawks seizes the bottle from the shelf and begins to stroll to the register. “Nice talking to you, man. See you around.”

“Hey- where the fuck are you goin’?” Dabi’s muted voice demands as Hawks pulls the phone from his ear. “Get the fuck back here.”

Hawks obliges. “What’s up?”

“I called you.”

“Ah, yeah. Okay. Why?”

Dabi rubs one temple with his free hand, eyes closed. “You’re a fuckin idiot.”

“I was on patrol late last night,” Hawks complains. “Spit it out.”

So Dabi does. 

Hawks stops dead in his tracks, nearly dropping his bottle on the tile floor. “Excuse me?”

“For her birthday. That’s what she wants.”

Silence. 

“Pick your jaw up offa the floor, bird brain.”

Hawks closes his mouth sheepishly. “Now how the fuck did you know-”

“Because I know you. So what do you think.”

“You-she- I-she…WHAT?”

“I’m not the one making the request. I’m the messenger.” Dabi smirks. “And participant.”

“Is this a joke?”

“How I wish it were,” Dabi sighs wistfully, enjoying this shocked, stuttering version of the winged Hero so much he can’t help but prolong it. “But this is what she wants.”

In reality, for all the shit he gives Hawks, Dabi trusts him implicitly. Not that he’d ever admit that. Which is why such a request had to go directly to Hawks. Dabi doesn’t necessarily like to share, but if he must, Hawks is his go-to. 

Hawks pretends to hesitate long after he’s mentally agreed. “Shit, yeah, okay. As long as you don’t get jealous and burn my wings off or anything.”

Dabi laughs wryly. “I’m not makin’ any promises.”

One week later, your birthday has come and very nearly gone, it being 9 pm on the holy day itself. You’ve been brunched, presented with gifts, had cake (ice cream, your favorite), and drank more wine than Dabi secretly thinks is safe for you, but who is he to regulate the birthday girl. Now, everyone has gone home, the apartment has been tidied, and you are in the shower, washing the festivity out of your hair. It’s been a good day. So good, in fact, that you’ve mostly forgotten the request you made to Dabi a few weeks ago. This morning he had presented you with a beautiful necklace, silver with a blue crystal (Lapis Lazuli, if you remember correctly) carved into a flame. It twinkles at the base of your throat now, in the low light. You hum absentmindedly as you rinse conditioner from your hair, exhausted and perfectly content. 

 A low knock sounds at the bathroom door. “Come in,” you sing, shutting off the water and wringing your hair out. Dabi steps in. 

“So. Good day?”

“Good day,” you confirm, stepping out of the shower and allowing him to wrap you in a towel. “Great day. Thank you for making it so great.”

He smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Got one more gift for ya.”

Your head jerks up in surprise. “You do?” 

He nods, smug as ever. “C’mon.” Taking your hand, he leads you out of the bathroom, through your bedroom, and into the living room. 

“Keigo?” 

“Hey, darlin’.” The winged Hero is seated on the couch, but stands and swaggers over to you as Dabi leads you into the room. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thanks, but what are you doing he-” 

And then it hits you. 

“Oh.” You turn to stare at Dabi, who’s watching you carefully, making sure you’re okay with this. “OH.”

Dabi shrugs. “Far be it from me to deny the birthday girl.”

A smile spreads across your face, slowly, then all at once. “Really?”

“Really.” 

“Really,” Hawks echoes, reaching for your hand. “Why don’t we sit down, talk about the rules.”

You let Hawks lead you to the couch and sit down beside him, Dabi not far behind. 

“Alright.” For just a second, Hawks assumes his Serious Hero Face. “Let’s talk limits and boundaries.”

“Uh…” it’s hard to collect your thoughts. Flustered, you press your hands to your burning cheeks and try to focus. “Uhm….no wax play, no piss, no fisting.” You peek at Dabi to make sure you’re not missing anything, and he nods in silent confirmation. You can’t believe this is happening. “ Degradation is okay, and-" Your face is bright red by now, you can feel it. "I kinda....have a Daddy kink?" Hawks nods seriously. “Praise?”

“Praise is good,” you nearly squeak. Dabi hides a smile. 

“Safe word?” 

Oh, god. You have to say it out loud. 

“Bonfire,” you whisper, mortified. Hawks raises his eyes to Dabi in disbelief. Dabi nods infinitesimally. 

“That’s….That’s good. Okay. Yeah. That’s good.” Hawks is trying like hell to hold in his laughter. You can’t raise your eyes from the floor. 

Dabi rises. “I’m gonna go get some wine. Help us relax.” He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Hawks to your own devices. 

Hawks smiles at you. “Are you good? Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“I’m good,” you half whisper. “I’m, uh…I get a little…shy…”

“That’s okay. We’ll take good care of you.” The Winged Hero stands and stretches, flaunting his toned stomach under his black tank top, riding high above his joggers. “What helps you relax?”

“Crack the windows,” Dabi calls from the kitchen, over the sounds of glasses clinking as they’re set on the counter. “She likes the sound of the rain. And light some of those candles.”

 As you watch, Hawks flits easily around the room, lighting some of the candles you’ve scattered around the space, with scents like Banana Nut Bread and Bourbon Barrel Cake. As the warm, sweet smells begin to drift around the room, he cracks a couple windows on the far wall, and sure enough, the sounds of the rainstorm fill the room. You feel yourself begin to relax, leaning deeper into the plush folds of the couch. 

“Yeah, I can see it on your face.” Hawks smiles gently at you as he rejoins you on the couch. “Starting to feel better?”

“Yeah. I’ve never… uh, done this.”

“Really? Never?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know many…people. And none of my exes ever would've...Well, they weren't as trusting in me as Dabi is."

“Well, I’m honored to be the first.” Hawks puts an arm around you. “C’mon.” Obediently, you lean back against him, just as Dabi breezes back into the room, balancing three wine glasses and a bottle. 

“Told ya.” He addresses Hawks. “I know what helps.” Handing out the glasses, he sinks down on your other side, sliding a hand down your thigh. “Drink up, birthday girl.”

And so, you do. 

As you drink- careful to not drink enough to get really drunk, just enough to feel it and relax- you just talk. Except words are accompanied by soft touches; a squeeze of the thigh, a light brushing of fingers against your bare shoulder. It occurs to you that you’re still just wrapped in your towel, and though you’re nearly embarrassed you also acknowledge that really, it’ll just save time. 

In minutes, you’ve melted like butter between the two men. The towel is looser now; most of your thighs are exposed, your wet hair has been twisted into a bun to allow more access to your neck, which Hawks is currently buried in. You sigh, contentedly, as Dabi loosens the towel and gently pulls it away, kneeling on the carpeted floor to kiss his way up your thighs. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” he rasps, pushing your thighs apart. “You wanna keep goin’?”

You nod, and Hawks cups your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips. 

“Answer him out loud, sweetheart. We need to hear it.”

“Yes,” you bleat, as Hawks trails a hand down to your chest and tweaks at a nipple. “Yes, I want to keep going.”

“Such a good girl,” Hawks hums, reaching for your other breast to tweak it as well. “She’s such a good girl, Dabi.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dabi smirks, then delves between your thighs, unleashing his tongue on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, twisting in Hawks’ grasp. “Oh, fuck-”

“Loud, too,” Hawks remarks, amused. “Gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”

You obey, practically throwing yourself against his plush lips, whimpering as he sweeps a tongue against yours, forcing your mouth open. His hand grasps yours, leading it to the tent in his joggers. Without breaking the kiss, he carefully sits up far enough to pull his pants down, freeing his erection. “Touch me, baby,” he orders hoarsely, and sighs as your hand wraps around him and begins to pump. As you jerk him off, he pulls and pinches at your nipples, eliciting small whimpers from you. Dabi watches all of this from below, his tongue circling your clit as he jerks himself off. 

This is so much. It’s nearly too much, and before you know it, the familiar tightening in your stomach is threatening to snap. 

“Oh god,” you pant, breaking free from Hawks’ mouth as you look down at Dabi. “baby- baby i’m g-gonna cum-!”

“Give it to me, baby,” Dabi urges, and Hawks groans against your neck. 

“Let us see you, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”

That does it. 

Wailing, you writhe against Dabi’s mouth as everything in you breaks. Dabi holds on to your thighs, continuing his onslaught against your clit, while Hawks strokes your hair and praises you. 

“So good, baby, so pretty,” he coos, as your breath stutters and then slows. “Just a good little slut, hmmm?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, reaching for him and winding your arms around his neck. Hawks chuckles and pulls you into his lap, his erection pressed against your stomach. “C’mon, good girl,” he whispers. “Sit on my dick.”

You oblige, rising yourself up and settling back down as he pushes inside you, little by little, working your way down. 

“‘S big,” you slur, only opening your eyes to locate Dabi, who has relocated to behind the couch, pumping himself as he watches you lower yourself onto another man’s dick. His pupils are dilated, his face awed. 

“Wanna suck your dick,” you gasp as Hawks bottoms out in you and begins to guide your hips back and forth against him. 

Dabi lets out a chuckle. “Nobody’s stopping you, baby.”

Carefully, grinding back and forth on Hawks, you lean forward enough so that you can wrap your lips around the tip of Dabi’s pierced dick. He rewards you with a harsh grunt, then begins to gently fuck your mouth. 

The sounds of panting and skin slapping against skin fills the room; it occurs to you, vaguely, that you are nothing but a toy, a bunch of available, fuckable holes in this moment, and for some reason, that spurns you on further. Dabi lets you take him deep into your throat, muttering appreciation at your enthusiasm. Below you, Hawks takes your hips and roughly begins to lift you up and drop you back down against him, distracting you. 

“Oh, oh my god,” you choke, pulling yourself off of Dabi and pumping him instead as Hawks fucks you. 

“Yeah? You like it, baby?” Hawks pants, tilting his head back to see yours. 

“So-so fucking good,” is all you can make out, the way he’s dropping you back down on him is making you see stars, you can barely breathe. Dabi grins widely down at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce, your fucked-out expression. 

“Who’s my good little whore?” he croons, leaning down to stroke your face as his best friend fucks the intelligence out of you. “Who’s my dumb little baby?”

“I am, I am, Daddy,” you cry out, the familiar tightening in your tummy threatening to snap. “I’m your good little whore-”

“You gonna cum, baby?”

Your answering “yes” is echoed by Hawks, who has abandoned the premise of making you ride him and instead has begun thrusting up into you as hard as he can at this angle. Dabi watches in awe and faint amusement as you both implode, you, shaking and crying out, reaching for Dabi as you break, and Hawks whimpering into your neck, panting as he cums inside you. 

Dabi stands to the side of the couch, heating his palms and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you and Hawks both come down from your high. 

“So good,” Dabi croons. “So good, baby. You already made Hawks cum, that pussy is so good.”

Hawks doesn’t look remotely abashed as he lifts his head from your neck, peppering your cheek with little kisses. “I want to die in this pussy, baby.”

You laugh, still shaking a little from the aftermath of your second orgasm, then reach for Dabi once more. This time he obliges, lifting you up off of Hawks effortlessly and holding you to him, your legs wrapped against his waist. “Why don’t we give Hawks a little show, baby?”

You know exactly what he means, and you’re nodding before he finishes his sentence. Dabi briefly cups your face and kisses you, once, chastely, on the lips. “Gonna fuck his cum right outta you, sweetheart,” he promises, and then easily lowers you onto him, still standing beside the couch. 

Easily, almost nonchalantly, Dabi begins fucking you, holding you against him and pushing up into you. You tuck your head into his shoulder, panting as he holds to his word. You can feel yourself leaking, dripping with Hawks’ cum as Dabi’s dick fills you to the brim. Hawks jerks off, his erection restored as he stares, almost in awe, at the poetry of Dabi fucking you. 

This, to be honest, is your favorite way for Dabi to fuck you. To feel like a rag doll as he easily lifts and lowers you against his cock, the spot he hits at this angle, the way it completely makes you lose control. You stop thinking somewhere around thirty seconds in and let yourself become his personal toy, devoid of thought. You are nothing but nerve endings and pliable holes for this man in these moments and you are more than happy to fulfill that role for him. 

You don’t know how long its been or what you’ve said- you are vaguely away that you’re babbling as he fucks you, saying god knows what as you cling to his shoulders, letting him use you, when you feel it again. 

“D-Daddy,” your voice wobbles. “I’m- i’m gonna-”

“You gonna cum again, baby?” Even his voice affects you- you clench down on him involuntarily, and he groans. “Fuck, sweetheart-”

“I’m-I think i’m gonna squirt,” you gasp, and Hawks breathes in sharply behind you. “Oh god, daddy don’t stop, dont stop dont stop-”

“Come on, baby. Make a mess.” And you do.

Dabi pulls you off of him just in time; you squirt against his abdomen, rubbing furiously at yourself to prolong it, completely aware that the way you’re moving could cause you to fall, and not even remotely caring. When it’s over, you more or less collapse, curling into his chest as he carries you to the couch. Hawks helps him lay you down against the cushions, your head in Dabi’s lap while Hawks gently stretches your legs out against his lap. Dabi’s warm fingers sift through your hair. 

“You’ve done such a good job, baby.” Dabi’s fingers move from your hair to your cheek, and you nuzzle into his palm. 

“So good,” Hawks agrees, stroking your ankles. “You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Think you can do just a little more for us?”

You’re spent, exhausted, but you nod, anyway. Dabi chuckles. “That’s my good girl. Sit up for me, baby.”

You obey, and Dabi gently helps you onto all fours, facing you on hands and knees to Hawks, who is still languidly stroking himself. 

“Think you can suck his dick while I fuck your pretty pussy, sweetheart?”

Anything, anything, anything for you. 

Hawks straightens himself out on the couch, so that you’re able to lean down to run your tongue over his tip without any trouble. As you take him deeper into your mouth, Dabi begins to sink into you, little thrusts that pull him deeper and deeper into your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole. 

“You’re so good, baby,” Hawks groans, as you take him into the back of your throat. “So obedient, so pretty, so wet…”

“She’s- she’s a good girl,” Dabi pants, his thrusts quicker now, more urgent. “Aren’t you, honey? Tell us you’re a good girl.”

You lift your head briefly. “I’m a good girl,” you mumble, blushing- how you can blush over words after being in such compromising position escapes you, but here you are, anyway.

Both men groan. 

“Yeah,” Dabi sighs, then seizes your hips and begins to fuck you in earnest. You cry out, and Hawks begins to stroke himself, holding eye contact with you as Dabi pounds into you from behind. 

“Tell me you love it,” Hawks orders, suddenly brusque. 

“I-i love it,” you pant, eyes practically crossing as Dabi’s thrusts turn to an unforgiving pounding. “It’s so good, it’s so hard, i love it i love it i love it-”

“Say thank you,” Dabi pants. “Thank us for fucking you so good.”

“Thank you, thank you Hawks, thank you, Daddy, thank you, I want this all the time, I want you both, I wan- I wan cum, I-” before you know what’s happening, your orgasm hits you like a train; crying out, you push back against Dabi, your entire body shaking. 

“Oh, shit- f-f-fuck- FUCK,” Dabi moans, loudly, and you feel him pumping his cum into you. Your shared orgasm triggers Hawks, who shoots his load onto your face, panting and murmuring praise. 

All three of you slump against the couch, and against each other, a tangle of limbs. Finally, Dabi pulls you upright and back against his chest. Hawks goes to the kitchen and comes back with a rag, wiping your face clean before delivering a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“So,” Dabi chuckles, “Good birthday?”

“Good birthday,” you agree. 

Great birthday.

#dabi smut #dabi #mha smut #hotwings #dabihawks #dabixhawksxreader #hawks smut #hawks x reader

[piratekane]

She’s bone-tired, aches in places she didn’t know could ache and muscles stretched out in a way they haven’t been for a long time. Since her physical therapy, at least. The rock climbing a few weeks ago certainly hadn’t helped, but there was no way she was going to stay with her feet rooted to the floor. Not when she could climb up 15 feet and hang there like Spider-man. Better than Spider-man.

Suck it, Tom Holland.

She paid for it later, though, and spent the next day letting her body remember how to stretch, going through yoga poses and washing her breakfast down with ibuprofen. 

It was worth it, still, to see the look on Bea’s friend’s faces. Mary was impressed, clapping her on the shoulder when she got to the bottom and telling Camila - who made it up the wall the fastest - that she had competition. Even Lilith regarded her with a level of approval that Ava ate up. She’s going to make Lilith like her. Or at least smile politely, even if it is with all her teeth.

But it was Bea’s face that made it even better. 

She hasn’t known Bea long - she’s known others longer, including that one cafeteria lady who always saves her a side of mac and cheese because Ava said one time that it was her favorite - but she already knows that a big part of her wants to impress Bea. She can’t quite put it into words. There’s something about Bea that makes Ava want to show off. Maybe it’s because one thing she’s learned about Beatrice is that her smiles are fleeting. Ava wants to collect every one of them.

She’ll have a lot of opportunities, now that Bea is her friend and her roommate.

“Where do you want this one?” Beatrice asks from the doorway. She’s holding a paper box with tons of smiley faces drawn on it in a thick-tipped permanent marker. There’s a method to her packing madness, but Ava is big enough to admit that she has no idea what’s in this particular box.

“Here is fine.” She shifts in the computer chair Bea got her, a slight pinch in her back.

Bea looks down at the last few inches of floor where Ava points and frowns. “How will you get out?”

Ava lifts her legs, wiggling her socked toes. “I’ll jump. Have you jumped on this bed? Is it a solid bed for jumping?”

“Jumped on the…” Beatrice blinks at her. “No, Ava. I haven’t jumped on the bed.”

Ava shrugs. “You’re missing out. My dorm room was not good jumping material. When’s the last time you jumped on a bed?”

“Nev-never.”

Her mouth drops open. “Never?” She immediately frowns. Beatrice wasn’t kidding when she told her that her life hadn’t been normal kid stuff and her parents were hardly around. They had that in common: a girl who lived in an orphanage and a girl who grew up alone. It makes her a little sad for Bea. “We have to fix this.”

“I am not jumping on the bed,” Bea says firmly.

Ava shrugs. Today is not the day, and tomorrow won’t be either, but soon. She stands and stretches her arms above her head, immediately dropping them so that her shirt doesn’t ride up any higher. Bea seems like the kind of girl who appreciates a little modesty. Ava can do that. Or, she can try really hard to do that.

“I am officially all moved in.” She grins, surveying her kingdom. There’s a desk in one corner, left behind by Bea’s roommate who went to study abroad and didn’t come back. A nightstand by the bed has her lamp and her hat on it. She’ll have to hang her clothes, fill the dresser, find a few posters to put up on the walls. But it’s hers. “So, roomie, what’s next?”

Bea looks around, clasping her hands behind her. “I believe those are all your things.”

“Except for the kitchen stuff.”

“Yes.” There’s a faint smile on Bea’s face and Ava feels a thrill, knowing she put it there. “How could I forget your… hot dog maker.”

“Not sure. It’s fire engine red.” But she looks around too. “I think we’re done. Now we can get ready for movie night!”

A proper end to moving day. Movie night with an Ava-curated predetermined list, tons of drinks and movie theater popcorn and Bea’s friends. She had hesitantly suggested it to Bea a few days ago. She’d never done a movie night and her College Experiences bucket list clearly had it marked as item #8. But Bea had said yes almost immediately, and Ava went to work, making a list of options in between packing and classes and meals with Bea and her friends.

They’re going to be my friends, she decides. That’s on her bucket list too.

Now she just needed them to get here. The minutes have been dragging on as she’s waited as patiently as possible. But time didn’t seem to be cooperating. It’s doing its best to drag its heels. Ava wants to grab it by the neck and shake it.

Bea seems to notice that. “They’ll be here soon.” She says it very patiently, like she already knows Ava does terrible with waiting. And Ava likes that. She likes that Bea is paying attention to her enough to notice these things.

Bea’s going to be a great roommate. Ava wants to be just as good. She looks around her room, satisfied. She can unpack later - there’s enough space to get from the bed to the door and Bea insisted she make the bed first, almost like she knew that Ava was going to stack everything in insurmountable piles and try her best to get around them.

See? she thinks. She knows me already.

She’s about to say that, to tell Bea that she’s already killing this ‘best roommate’ contest that Bea doesn’t know they’re having, when someone knocks on the door. Once, twice, three times.

Ava does jump on the bed this time, beating Beatrice to the door and pulling it open to find Camila on the other side. 

Ava beams. “Movie night!”

~

“Is the whole movie about… biking?” Lilith makes it seem like a swear word.

Ava grins, shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth, and says, “id bub nimnasts.” Everyone turns to her. She swallows and smiles more sheepishly this time. “It’s about gymnastics.”

Lilith heaves a long-suffering sound. “Gymnastics.” It’s really a testament to her disdain for everyday things, that everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like she’s spitting it from between her teeth. But then the running biker rips off her helmet and it’s Missy Peregrym and even Lilith seems interested.

Ava gets it. She does. This is peak Missy Peregrym. And it only gets better. She stops watching the movie when Missy Peregrym’s character, Haley, finds her way back to the gym and on Vanessa Lengies’ character, Joanne’s, last nerve and starts watching the room instead. Onscreen, Haley pretends to be on the phone while Joanne stomps her foot angrily, and Mary snorts, lips curled up in a smile, and that’s when Ava knows this is a good choice.

She wants to impress them so badly. It consumes her. Partly because she thinks they’re really cool, even Lilith. And partly because she thinks Bea is amazing and these people agree. Sister Frances always told her to stop wasting her time and do everyone the favor of aligning herself with the right people. Ava is pretty sure she was saying it to get rid of her, to go out and be someone else’s problem, but Ava thinks she found the right people all the same.

“Isn’t that the guy from Twilight?” Camila asks, abandoning her popcorn. Ava meets Bea’s eyes and smiles. Bea shakes her head fondly at Camila and Ava wonders when she’ll get the same look. Someday, she thinks. She looks back at Camila, leaning forward in her seat on the bean bag chair she wrestled through their front door earlier. “He’s the cute one, I think. The other one kind of freaked me out. I don’t think he ever blinked.”

Their front door. Ava’s heart beats a little harder.

Ava could go into detail about Twilight - it was basically contraband at the orphanage. But they’re in the middle of a movie. And she thinks Lilith might actually throw a soda at her. She doesn’t think Bea would appreciate the mess. So that’s a Camila-and-Ava conversation for later.

“Yikes. Ice baths.” Shannon shudders. “I used to do those in high school, during the season. Need a wake up call? Submerge yourself in a metal tub of ice cubes.” She points her entire soda towards the screen. “Though, I never looked like that doing it.”

Mary snakes her arm across the back of Shannon’s shoulder. “No, you didn’t.”

Ava slaps her hand over her mouth to keep in her laugh but Shannon rolls her eyes and elbows Mary gently. “You’re right. I looked better.”

“Damn right you did.” Mary meets Ava’s eye and smirks. It feels like a secret between them. That swelling feeling in her chest reaches a crescendo.

She shoves another handful of popcorn into her mouth and spares a glance at Bea, finding that Bea is already looking back at her. She inhales, nearly choking on a kernel. Bea sits forward, worry on her face, but Ava holds up a hand, stopping her. She swallows a few times, washes down what she can with her soda, and takes a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” Ava whispers, aware that she can be too loud sometimes. 

Bea has to lean closer to hear her. “It’s entertaining.”

Ava’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t know what that word means to Bea yet. Sometimes entertaining means not good, and sometimes it means the best thing I’ve watched in my whole life. She’s still learning to read her.

“Good,” Bea fills in. Ava exhales in relief. “Gymnastics takes a considerable amount of skill.”

“You could do it,” Ava says confidently. She nods when Bea goes to argue with her. “I saw you rock climbing. And all the martial arts you talk about? I bet you could beat Nastia Liukin.”

Bea’s cheeks might redden but Ava can’t tell in the dim light. “Actual Olympic gold medalist Nastia Liukin? I doubt that.”

Ava shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to call her and find out. But my money's on you.”

Lilith shushes them, glaring. Ava puts one hand up in surrender and grins at Bea when Lilith turns back to the movie. She pushes the popcorn back to Bea and waits expectantly. Bea is much more graceful than Ava, picking out a few pieces delicately. Ava doesn’t offer the same grace; she shoves her hand in and grabs as much as she can. 

“Wait, her mom cheated on her dad with her coach?” Lilith doesn’t pull her eyes away from the screen, but scoffs. “Pathetic.”

Camila claps when it ends, grinning. Ava matches her smile, looking around excitedly. 

She pats herself on the shoulder mentally, though her hand itches to do it physically. She made a good choice, a strong start. She stands up, twists her back side to side so she can stretch it out, and grins. “Who wants more popcorn?”

~

She waits until a quiet moment, after everyone has been settled into movie and Bea has finished what Ava is sure to be the first of many comments on the historical validity of The Mummy before she says:

“This movie was my bisexual awakening.”

There’s a cough and sputter from her left where Beatrice is sitting. She thinks about reaching out and giving her a friendly whack on the back, to clear out whatever has gotten stuck in her windpipe, but Mary laughs so loudly, Ava just ends up grinning instead.

Lilith eyes her critically. “Brendan Fraser isn’t the worst you could do, I suppose.”

It’s a glowing compliment coming from Lilith. Ava files it away for the next time she inevitably says something that isn’t.

Camila leans her head back, staring at Ava upside down. “Rachel Weisz is my ‘if I had to pick a girl’.”

“Fraser is not the guy I’d pick,” Mary says firmly. “I’m more of an Usher kind of girl.”

Shannon shrugs. “I think I’d take Mummy-Fraser over Tarzan-Fraser. The long hair is… Eh.”

The TV flickers, brightening the room as Rick O’Connell crosses the screen with a torch in his hand. Ava turns expectantly to Bea. “What about you?”

“What about-” Bea’s voice is slightly squeaky, if Ava had to put a word to it. Almost as if she doesn’t know where to break the syllables. “This movie was not my bisexual awakening,” she finally says.

“Well, of course not.” Ava reaches over and does touch Bea this time, patting her knee gently. “I assume you’d be too focused on the truth of all this history stuff to even focus on either of them.” She smiles warmly. “Am I right?”

Everyone seems to be looking at the two of them. Ava feels the room tip a little. She’s suddenly worried she said the wrong thing. She just thought, with Mary and Shannon clearly dating, that it’d be okay to say something like that. They seem to be open enough, not shying away from each other. But maybe she shouldn’t have. Or maybe it’s the movie choice. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Antonio Banderas also had something good going on.

Bea stares and Ava starts to count the seconds as they stretch.

“I’m not—” Bea begins haltingly, then stops. 

A tendril of panic curls around Ava’s chest. She just assumed. Sure, Bea never explicitly said she liked girls, but Ava isn’t usually wrong about this kind of stuff. Maybe she did get it wrong. Or maybe she just said it too loud. She has a tendency to barrel head first into things without thinking.

Bea clears her throat. “I suppose…” Her eyes dart over Ava’s shoulder to where Mary and Shannon are. Ava looks, smiling a little, still confused. “I suppose… Rachel Weisz is someone a person might find appealing.”

“Attractive,” Ava corrects, slightly relieved that she didn’t read Bea incorrectly. “And good choice.” She nods in total agreement. Bea’s taste is up there. 

She shoves her hand into the candy bowl that’s replaced the popcorn. M&Ms in this bowl, but Bea has Junior Mints. She looks up, mouth full, and finds Bea still staring back at her. An M&M falls out of her mouth and lands in her hand. She feels her face flush and she quickly tosses it back in.

Lilith’s face is twisted in disgust. There goes that good favor. But Mary and Shannon are looking at her too, and Ava gets a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” she says slowly. “I think I said something wrong.” Even though she has no clue what that might be. Her worry that she’s made Bea uncomfortable by talking about her sexuality rises again in her head. 

There’s quiet for a moment before Bea says, “No.” She reaches forward like she’s trying to get Ava to understand something but her hand hovers over Ava’s, the one with a small chocolate smudge on it, and she pulls it back into her own lap. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind…” Ava blinks, looks back again. Mary is staring at her and there’s a slight edge she hasn’t seen before. “That you like Rachel Weisz?” No one says yes or no and she’s still so confused. “I totally don’t mind, if that’s what you think. Like I said.” She points both of her thumbs back at herself and tries to smile in a way she knows is charming. “Awakening.”

Bea’s face is pinched, though. Ava has the strongest urge to press her hands to it and smooth it out. Mary clears her throat and Bea’s face does it all on its own.

“I mean, I’d still be okay with it if you liked Patricia Velasquez better,” Ava admits. “The gold costume was…” She whistles low and reaches out a hand, nudging Bea in the shoulder. Bea sways away and back in again stiffly, but she seems to be breathing out.

Ava exhales. She looks back over her shoulder and Mary is still looking at her but she’s smiling too, nodding once at her. Whatever test that was, she knows she passed it. And honestly, Bea can’t go wrong with either choice. And if she is into someone like Patricia Velasquez, Ava knows a girl in her Humanities class who can pull off that same kind of eyeliner.

She offers Bea the bowl of M&Ms silently, gesturing for the Junior Mints. Bea hands it over slowly, her eyes still searching Ava’s face. She hopes Bea finds whatever she’s looking for. Because she wants to show Bea that she’s someone to trust, that Bea made a good decision, and that moving in was something that was going to be great. 

She smiles encouragingly and Bea smiles back, ducking her head slightly. Ava turns back to the TV screen, silently passing Camila the bowl of Junior Mints in return for the Skittles. 

“Actually,” Bea says quietly, almost as if she’s only talking to Ava. “Did you know that Medjay, the Pharoh’s bodyguards in the movie, actually refers to people from the land of Medja. It was believed to be located in Nubia, near the Second Nile Cataract.”

Ava abandons the screen, turning to Bea now. “How do you know this stuff?”

Bea shrugs a shoulder. “I like knowing things.”

“We’re finding a trivia night and going out,” Ava decides. Lilith shushes her and she ignores it. “The brains between you, Shannon, and Camila, plus my good looks, Mary’s brawn, and the whole… scary thing Lilith has going on, we’ll clean up.”

Bea smiles fully this time. A pillow hits Ava in the side of the head but it doesn’t stop her from smiling back at Bea before snatching the pillow off the floor and holding onto it until Lilith wrestles it out of her hands ten minutes later.

~

They’ve moved onto pizza by the time Atlantis queues up on the TV. Six different boxes sit open on the breakfast bar, greasy plates on the floor and coffee table. Ava rests a hand on her stomach, her whole body stretched out and her socked feet dangerously close to a mushroom sliding around in a puddle of grease. She peers down. Bea’s plate is full of mushrooms, picked out from the other toppings.

Huh. No mushrooms. Maybe Bea does have a flaw.

“I dated a guy who looked like Milo once,” Camila offers. “Soft spoken, too.” She squints, looking into the middle distance. “I think his name was Ted.”

“Ted.” Mary wrinkles her nose. “There was a Ted in my Women’s Safety class freshman year. Thought it was an easy A and he’d get to feel up a few girls.” She scoffs. “He sure felt my fist in his stomach.”

Ava lifts an arm in solidarity, her whole body weighed down with hot dough and spicy tomato sauce. “I beat up someone once. When I was 6. He broke my ant farm.” She gets a sudden burst of energy as damp anger flows through her. She sits up. “I was the one who got in trouble though, the little jerk.”

Lilith pushes a piece of half-eaten veggie pizza towards Ava. Ava’s stomach protests, but the mushrooms are just that good, so she takes it and polishes off the rest of it. Lilith is warming up to her and Ava revels in it. It’s all part of her master plan to win Lilith over, one small step at a time.

With the understanding, of course, that she’s going to go backwards more than she goes forward. But she can tell how much Lilith means to Beatrice and she can play the long game. It’ll be a good exercise in patience.

“What about you, Beatrice? Beat a lot of people up? I know you can, like, kill a man with your bare hands.”

Lilith snorts. “Beatrice would never.”

Ava grins. “So you would?”

“No,” Bea says loudly over Lilith opening her mouth. “Our training is for self-defense. I have never found any reason to escalate a fight outside of tournaments and educational exercises.” She sees Ava’s eyes tracking the table and nudges the plate of mushroom slices towards her. She thinks she sees Bea’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Okay, but, if someone like Helga Sinclair - a total babe, by the way - came charging at you, you wouldn’t fight her?” Ava points at the screen where Helga is lifting boxes up, just to show off her muscles. Her mind gets stuck for a minute. They’re impressive arms. But then, Bea’s arms kind of look the same, now that she thinks about it. Helga has more of a Lilith-attitude, though.

Bea blinks. “She’s a cartoon character.”

“But if she was real,” Ava stresses. “Are you just too proud to tell me you’d wipe the floor with her pretty, 2-dimensional face?” She looks at Shannon. “Is she always this modest?”

Shannon snorts softly. “Yeah, Beatrice never really sells herself well.”

“We’re going to fix that,” Ava decides. Bea opens her mouth but Ava shakes her head. “It’s decided. Operation Beatrice is a Badass henceforth commences tonight, on this Saturday, in Apartment 3B. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Order.”

Bea’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “That’s not at all how that goes.”

“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Lilith mutters.

“It was kind of sweet,” Camila says kindly. “I think Beatrice needs a personal cheerleader.”

“Seems like Ava is up for the job,” Mary says. Her eyes are on Beatrice, a small smirk on her face. “I say go for it.”

Ava beams. “That’s four votes yes.”

Shannon hums. “I didn’t vote.”

“My vote counts twice,” Ava says without even looking at her. She goes to say something else, but Atlantis comes into view and she forgets what she was going to say, staring in wonder as Milo sees the lost city for the first time.

She watched this movie a lot when she was in the orphanage. Sister Frances was fond of donations and didn’t usually splurge on new things; a handful of DVDs, including Atlantis, were the last thing that showed up that wasn’t already in pieces by the time it got to them. Osmosis Jones was the other one, but one of the older boys broke it when he thought Osmosis Jones was living inside his body. 

Atlantis always caught her attention, though. The idea that there was a secret world out there where anything was possible? It was all she dreamed about as a kid, confined to a bed and locked away under Sister Frances’ crow-like eyes. She imagined she was Milo, on the hunt for the one thing that would make her life make sense. Sure, she never found her Atlantis, but Milo did. And she could live through that.

Her eyes stray to Bea. She’s caught herself doing that all night - constantly tuned into Bea, wondering what she’s thinking or if she likes Ava’s choices or if she’s regretting agreeing to this new living situation. She thinks everyone is warming up to her and it makes her grin. Friends. Friends she can hang out with and do movie nights and trivia nights and lunch dates like the one she has scheduled with Camila on Monday between her morning and afternoon classes.

And all thanks to the person who is quickly becoming her favorite person. Bea is her Princess Kira, showing her a whole new world. She frowns. Wrong movie. But then she shrugs; the point still stands.

“Well, you eat enough for two people,” Mary says, pulling Ava’s attention back in. She sounds impressed, though. “I’ve never seen anyone put away what you have in the last few hours.”

Ava grins and pats her stomach. “There’s still room in this ol’ thing. Just you wait.”

Mary shakes her head, a smile on her face. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you say.”

A rush of affection swells in her chest. No one has ever called her ‘baby girl’ before. Or said it with a smile like Mary’s, like it’s some secret between the two of them. She holds onto it. She wants to wear it again. She wonders what Bea will call her, what her nickname will be. 

“None of you seem to understand what a movie night is, do you?” Lilith cuts in. She has her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. “It means watching a movie, not talking through it.”

“I didn’t realize you liked this movie so much,” Mary says lightly. “If we knew it was your favorite-”

“Not my favorite,” Lilith sniffs.

“-we would have quieted down,” she finishes. “You heard her, ladies, no talking through Lilith’s favorite movie.”

Mary, unlike Ava, catches the pillow Lilith throws and chucks it right back, hitting her right in the face. Ava gasps but the sound is swallowed up by the growl of disbelief from Lilith, the weary groan from Beatrice, Shannon tutting, and Camila clapping her hands together lightly.

It takes considerable effort, and they have to rewind twice, missing the mark both times and just giving up, but now Ava can put an X across the “bloodshed” square on her “how to be friends with girls” bingo card.

Lilith pouts for the next twenty minutes, Mary gloats, and Ava eats two more pieces of pizza, chewing happily.

~

“You’ll like this one,” Ava promises Bea as she loads the DVD unseen into the player. “It’s Shakespeare.”

A soccer ball bounces across the screen and the look of confusion on Bea’s face deepens. Ava holds out a hand, anticipating a question.

“Just wait, okay? This is pop culture history.” 

Bea looks skeptical. “It really is,” Ava insists. “It takes Shakespeare and modernizes it. Think 10 Things I Hate About You. Think Romeo + Juliet. This is a cinematic marvel.”

“Sit down,” Shannon says without any bite. “We’ve liked the other ones so far.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lilith mutters. She scowls, but closes her mouth when Camila looks at her. 

Ava doesn’t let it bother her. She swears she saw Lilith crying at the end of Atlantis. But Shannon’s words give her enough courage to take her seat again and watch Bea’s face, eager to see her reaction. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“I love this movie!”

“Not this one.”

Ava looks between Shannon and Mary. They look at each other.

Shannon blinks first. “You don’t like this movie?”

“I want to strangle her boyfriend every time he’s on screen.” Mary scowls, like she’s imagining his throat under her hand. “And Channing Tatum is just…”

“He’s a baby in this movie.”

“He’s not a good actor in this movie.”

Camila raises her hand weakly. “I like him in Magic Mike.” She balks at everyone’s sudden frown. Ava shakes her head. “My freshman year roommate was, like, obsessed with him. Actually, I think her mom was. And it just sort of… trickled down.”

Ava reaches out and pats her head gently. “I’m so sorry. That sounds terrible.”

Camila shrugs. “We traded off. Horror movies for me-”

“Horibble movies for her,” Mary finishes.

Shannon shrugs. “Well, I like this movie. Though, Olivia and Viola should have ended up together.”

That, Ava can get behind. She nods furiously. “Best chemistry, definitely.” She reaches for her bowl of ice cream - she has a scoop of every flavor they got at the grocery store. She digs into it, lifting her spoon to her mouth before she pauses, speaking first. “Do you think Amanda Bynes really knows how to play soccer?”

“No,” echoes around her.

She shrugs. “Didn’t think so.”

They turn their attention back to the movie, ignoring the comments Lilith makes critiquing Sebastian’s girlfriend and Marcus the creep and the principal - who she says reminds her of her tutor. The one you made cry? Bea asks. Lilith grins with all her teeth. 

Ava soaks it in like the sun on a beach. She catalogues the way Bea laughs at the pizza shop scene, the way she repeats the ug-lay as if it’s some foreign word she’s learning for the first time. She wonders if she’ll ever hear Bea say it out loud. Maybe she’ll wear something really loud - a word she picked up from Chanel - and see what the reaction is. She watches the way Mary and Shannon whisper to each other, soft murmurs over Olivia and Viola-Sebasatian arguing about cutting open a frog. Even Lilith makes a noise that sounds like a short laugh when Duke shoves a tampon up his nose. Camila mouths the words along with the characters, body jerking a little as if she’s the one playing soccer on the screen.

If 12-year-old Ava could see her now. If 17-year-old Ava could see her now. She wouldn’t believe it. She’d think her whole world extended only as far as the four walls of that orphanage. But it doesn’t. It’s bigger and brighter and filled with the coolest people she’s ever met.

Amanda Bynes flashes the soccer team and Ava laughs and laughs until Bea is smiling and shaking her head - that look, the one Ava saw Bea give Camila, that slight hint of fondness, is aimed directly at her.

The Illyria soccer team wins against Cornwall and Ava feels like she’s won something too.

~

She barely hears the door click shut as Lilith closes it behind her, the last one to leave. 

Ava had watched Camila wrestle her bean bag back out into the hallway, smiling too brightly for someone still up at two-thirty in the morning before she slumped back down on the couch, her energy spent. Mary patted the top of her head with a heavy hand, smoothing it out with a smile, and Shannon had squeezed her shoulder gently in a goodbye before they followed Camila. Lilith had stayed, helping to pick up a few things and talking quietly with Bea. Quiet enough that Ava couldn’t hear it - and too tired to tune into.

The popcorn and the candy and the pizza and the ice cream were catching up to her, making her a little nauseous and a lot full. She slumped down further on the couch and watched Lilith move through the apartment like she knew all its corners. She couldn’t wait until she could do the same.

Bea closes the refrigerator now and turns to Ava, smiling. “Did you have fun?”

“Best night ever.” It’s not a lie. This has kicked ‘First Night out with Chanel’ off the top of her list without a care in the world. “Did you?”

“I had a very nice time. We haven’t done that in a long time.” Bea drifts closer. She sits on the edge of the couch, hovering a little above the cushion.

“Monthly movie nights, then.” A thought crosses her mind and she pouts. “Hey, we forgot National Treasure.”

Bea laughs breathlessly. “I think four movies in one night is more than enough, Ava. There will be more nights for movies.  We can watch it another time.” 

Ava nods decisively. “Monthly movie nights. We have all the time in the world.” 

“We do,” Bea says, and it feels a little bit like they’ll have this forever.

Ava reaches behind her, groping at the back of the couch until she finds the corner of the blanket she’s searching for. She pulls it down over her head.

She thinks she hears Bea laugh, soft and melodic. But she could be imagining it, a holdover from her being hyper-aware of each time she did during movie night. She curls into it and smiles into the arm of the couch. She doesn’t know how she started sliding down, but it’s comfortable here.

“Ava,” Beatrice says gently. “You have a bed.”

Ava pulls the blanket off her head and throws it onto her legs. She squirms, trying to get it to settle over her body. “But this is so comfortable. Where did you find this couch?”

“Shannon picked it out. I’ll ask her the next time I talk to her.”

“I’ve always wanted a couch like this,” she admits. “Big, comfy. Just for us.” Her eyes flutter closed and the room goes hazy before her vision goes dark. “I’m going to sleep here.” She wiggles again. The blanket tangles around her waist. 

Bea is quiet for a moment. “Come on. I have something for you.”

Her eyes open quickly, rolling off the couch and onto her feet. “What is it?”

Bea looks nervous but crosses the room to her bedroom, slipping in through the closed door. Ava hears some things moving and then Bea is in the living room again, hands clasped behind her back. She’s holding something.

“It’s- Now that I have it, I’m not sure it-” Bea takes a deep breath and smiles tightly. “I got you something. A sort of housewarming present.”

Ava grins. “I love presents. What is it?”

There’s still an undercurrent of nervousness in the way Bea uncharacteristically shifts. “Hold out your hands. And close your eyes.”

Ava immediately slams her eyes closed and thrusts her hands out. The air feels still but not uncomfortable. Silences with Bea don’t feel weird, which is crazy. So she doesn’t mind the wait as Bea obviously works up the courage to put something in her hands. After a long moment, she feels something soft and nearly weightless drop into her cupped palms.

Bea clears her throat. “You can open your eyes.”

Ava does. She blinks. A long, thin, soft stuffed animal with a white belly and tiger stripes stares back at her. She’s confused for a moment before the pieces slot into her place in her mind. “Is this… Is this Hobbes? From Calvin and Hobbes?

Bea’s cheeks are just the slightest hint of pink. She clears her throat again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.”

“It’s really not,” Ava rushes out. Her heart is too big in her chest. Her eyes start to burn a little, hot beads forming in the corners. “How did you-”

“The internet is more than just Wikipedia and Reddit.” Bea’s hands are tucked back behind her again. “But after our conversation…”

Their conversation. 

The one where Ava told Bea everything: her accident and the grueling years of work, the orphanage, years spent in the libraries reading everything she could get her hands on. She told her about the Peanuts comics she liked and how one of the older kids had called her Linus because she carried around a blue blanket for a few years. She told Bea about the hours she would spend reading the Calvin and Hobbes comic collections and pretending she could join them on their adventures: riding in a wagon, bubble bath statues, exploring the forest, sledding, waiting for the school bus.

She told Bea she always wanted a Hobbes stuffed animal to take with her on her own adventures, just as soon as she could go and have them. She’d never admitted that to anyone else, not even Diego, the little boy she shared a room with. But something about Bea made it easy to talk about these kinds of things, Maybe it was the way she listened. She didn’t judge, she didn’t laugh.

Ava knows that’s going to be a problem. She’s going to end up telling Bea everything all the time.

And when Bea is ready to talk more about herself, about what her parents were like and how they were never around, Ava is going to be ready to listen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

Bea’s voice is just as quiet. “I wanted to. You deserve to go on adventures.”

She breathes in slowly. “Today was an adventure. The best kind. And I know there’s going to be a million more.” She hugs Hobbes to her chest. “Because now I have someone. Two someones.” She smiles softly at Bea. “Hobbes. And you.”

Bea’s cheeks pinken just a hint more. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but closes it again. Ava doesn’t want to say anything either, afraid to break this precarious moment. So she just looks at Hobbes, her Hobbes, and feels her chest swell with affection for this new friend she’s found.

‘Thank you,” she whispers. Bea doesn’t whisper back, but Ava doesn't think she needs to. She places Hobbes carefully on the couch. She strokes down his soft belly, fingers lingering before she turns to Bea. “I’m going to hug you. Brace yourself.”

She sees Bea physically prepare for it, watches the muscles under her thin cotton shirt tense. And she laughs, inwardly, that Bea seems to ready herself, as if Ava is going to knock her down. But she doesn’t blame her. Ava crashes into her, arms tight around her middle, trapping Bea’s arms against her sides. She feels Bea struggle for a moment before she frees her arms. Hands hover above her back before Bea pats her gently. Ava grins into the soft skin of Bea's arm.

“I think we’re going to be best friends,” she says quietly in the space between them.

She doesn’t break away from the hug until her arms start to ache. Then she steps back, giving Bea a hesitant smile before she ducks around her, headed to her new bedroom with Hobbies in her hands. With a soft goodnight, she lets Bea have a moment to herself. She seems like the type of person who needs to recover from a hug, but Ava will take care of that.

She’s a very good hugger. And they have time.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #forever roommates #this was supposed to be a movie night FICLET #okay listen #this got SO FAR out of hand i cannot even begin to tell you what happened #everyone say thank you kay thank you kay #because she pushed for this and now you get to read if you'd like to #and she spent her time looking it over so she deserves extra thanks #also shout out to dren who opened a floodgate that i didn't realize needed to be let loose #is there a word limit to posts? #apparently not #for those counting along at home it's 6k #i can rest now

[sunlightmurdock]

thinking about older bf bradley helping you move houses! maybe your moving home from college and moving in together and all your friends are jealous of your super hot boyfriend.

don’t !! even !!! where was this man when I moved into my college dorm up four flights of stairs alone bc the lift was broken !?!

he’s there the day before, standing with his hands on his hips and surveying your half-packed up room, silently.

“I know it’s a lot of stuff, but, um—“

“No, no,” He lifts his arm and tucks you under it, squeezing you softly against his side, planting a quick kiss to the top of your head. “It’s fine. We’ll make it fit. I’ve got it.”

The two of you have got the place to yourselves and your bed hasn’t been taken apart yet. You look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, “Last chance to fuck a college girl, Bradshaw. What do you say?”

He chuckles softly as he unwraps his arm from around your shoulder and smacks your ass instead. Spinning you towards him and starting to walk you backwards, there’s a dubious look on his face as he studies you.

“I feel like you get turned on when I come over here. Y’know, I’ve never been in this apartment once without us fucking in it? — What’s up with that?”

You smile, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing him sweetly. “You’re thinking too much. I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Uh-uh.” Bradley chuckles, pressing you down onto your beck and guiding your thighs around his waist. You’re exceptionally eager, lifting your head and kissing him passionately, trying to deepen the kiss with each breath.

Bradley hates this bed. In fact, he can’t wait to tear it apart tomorrow morning and never have to see it again. With each thrust, the headboard smacks into the wall behind it — and with these thin walls in these new apartment buildings, Bradley’s just been waiting for the day where he has to patch a hole in the drywall.

Like the headboard isn’t enough, you’re a whimpering, moaning mess for him — but that’s nothing new. He’s still breathing hard as he buckles his belt again and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

The plan is for him to take a few boxes today, nonessentials, and come back tomorrow for the rest. That’s the only reason your bed is still standing. You wanted one last night in the apartment with your roommates. Speaking of roommates — Bradley has never met yours. You’re usually either over at his place or you sneak him in in the dead of night.

So, when you pull open your bedroom door and they’re all sitting right there on the couch — he’s just as surprised as they are. Especially because of how they’re looking at him, wide-eyed and vaguely impressed. You watch the realisation dawn on him that they just heard everything.

He closes his eyes for a second and makes peace with the fact that these three girls just heard you moaning his callsign, declaring loudly that you were going to cum.

Then, he swallows his pride and forces a polite smile. Their eyes all flicker down at once to leer at his flexing biceps as he holds two of your boxes stacked against his chest.

“Um, guys — this is Bradley. Bradley, my, uh… roommates.”

He nods in acknowledgement. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Mhm.” Their lips quirk in unison, you can see it on their faces that they’re trying not to be weird while he’s still here.

“I’ll be back in a second.” You wave them off, ushering Bradley downstairs and following him to his truck. He sets the boxes down and rounds on you swiftly, making your eyes go wide.

“You wanted them to hear.”

Your mouth twitches. You control it quickly and stare back at him. “What? — No.”

“You know their schedules! You knew they’d be back from class, and you wanted them to hear us fucking,” Bradley has hit the nail on the head, really. You bite back a smile and shake your head innocently at him. It’s just that they’re always teasing you about this mystery guy that you’re seeing, and how awful he must be if you won’t let them see him.

You’ve heard all of their reasons by now. That he’s old and gross. That he’s bad in bed. That he’s ugly. Or weird. You just cant hold it back anymore, the smile working its way onto your lips, knowing that you’ve rendered them all speechless.

Bradley watches your smile grow, shaking his head in disbelief. You gasp as he grabs you and pulls you hard against him by your belt loops.

“You should’ve let me know, baby girl. We could have made some real noise for them.” He tells you, leaned in closer than is appropriate for a public sidewalk in the middle of the day. You press your thighs together as he shoots you a quick wink, then leans down and kisses your mouth.

The bed might be the first thing to go the next morning when he’s packing up your room for good, but you already know that he’s got you bent over your desk and on the verge of forgetting your own name, just one last time, before you leave.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #thots night (: #top gun smut #older bf bradley

[erynaster]

Hi! This is a request I've asked other writers on the site, but I'd love to see your take on the idea!

I'd like to request a Wednesday x Venom!Reader, with Wednesday discovering the reader's secret by following him around...

Love your stuff, btw!

Of course! And thank you. :>

________________

Venomous Encounters

Summary: You and your symbiote wind up in a different world, where you attempt to start a new life for the both of you.

Word Count: 1,762

Pairing(s): Male!Venom!Reader x Wednesday Addams

Warning(s): Slight gore, slight violence

A/N: This one turned out much better than expected. I hope you all enjoy!

"This is a stupid idea."

Your symbiote says in your ear, as you peer around a corner to survey a holdup taking place by the cash register.

"Since when were you my voice of reason, Ven?" You whisper back, taking note of the gun pointed at the head of the frightened cashier standing behind the counter.

"It would be unwise to do anything to draw attention to us right now. Need I remind you that this is not our home universe. Uncharted territory." The symbiote warns you with a tone of urgency.

You grit your teeth. "Yeah, you've got that right."

It was only yesterday when you and Venom had suddenly appeared in this new world, which was startlingly similar to your own. You were just leaping from rooftop to rooftop when all of a sudden a strange light had engulfed you and transported you in the middle of a dark forest. Finding your bearings, you had stumbled upon a town called Jericho, where you and Venom decided to lay low for the time being.

But now, you were hungry.

Very hungry.

Your symbiote's hunger was your own. And by now, it was running out of nutrients to sustain the both of you.

That was all about to change at this very moment.

"We've got no choice, Ven. It's now or never." You whisper, just as black goo begins to engulf your body, permeating through your skin and wrapping around each and every one of your limbs.

A long, black tendril shoots out and grabs the offender by the wrist, causing him to drop the gun in surprise. He turns in your direction, and his face pales in utter terror.

Where your face was was nothing but rows of sharp, white teeth, and as the man's eyes searched for yours, they found nothing but two blank white sclerae, the lack of irises quite disturbing. As he mouths wordlessly, you can feel your jaw open as three words escape your lips.

"We... are Venom."

Lunging forward, you give the man no time to scream as your jaw closes around his neck, your symbiote's hunger satisfied at last.

...

Wednesday Addams stands outside the convenience store, just in front of the police tape circling the establishment. Amidst the wailing sirens, a white-faced employee was testifying to a police officer that he had seen a hulking black monster rip off the head of a man right in front of his eyes, before escaping through the door and leaping out of sight in the direction of the forest.

Now, Wednesday loved a good mystery. And this was yet another one of the strange occurrences that have happened to the town in the span of time that she had been at Nevermore.

Monsters and murders were her specialty, apparently.

She walks over to the police officer, who was observing two men carry out a body bag coming from the establishment.

Noting the absence of a bulge where the head should be, Wednesday tears her eyes away from the corpse to speak with the cop.

"Which direction did he say the monster was headed?"

The cop jumps in surprise at being addressed, looking Wednesday up and down as though sizing her up.

Deciding that she was no threat, he nods, pointing in the direction of the woods.

"There, into the forest. You better stay indoors, miss. It's not safe out here tonight."

Ignoring the last comment, Wednesday heads in the direction that the officer pointed out, with all intentions of getting to the bottom of this bloody mystery once and for all.

...

"That was reckless! Stupid!"

Venom yells in your ear as you jump from branch to branch, your clawed hands finding traction as you heave yourself from tree to tree with surprising agility and stealth.

"Who are you to tell me I'M being reckless, Ven? You were never the subtle type, either." You retort, surprised at your symbiote's wary behavior.

The symbiote groans.

"We drew far too much attention with that meal! That place will be swarming with cops, investigators, reporters! It won't be safe to return!"

You stop your travel momentarily by leaping onto an overhanging branch, catching your breath for a moment as the black goo seeps back into your flesh.

"A pity. I really liked that town, it's small, cozy, quaint..."

"You can't possibly be thinking of staying, now are you?"

"You can't blame me. It'll be a chance for us to start over. Where no one knows our name."

"We are the Lethal Protector! We do not 'settle down'. We go where the wind takes us!"

You don't answer, now that the sound of rustling leaves caught both your attention.

"Someone's coming."

Venom morphs himself all around you once more, scanning your surroundings like a predator stalking its prey.

A figure wanders into view, inspecting a few broken branches that you had left in your wake. They linger for a moment next to the trunk of a tree, where claw marks could be seen etched upon its surface.

"Told you so."

Venom extends a tendril and quietly lowers you just behind the figure, and you land on the ground noiselessly. Standing six feet tall, you pose menacingly as you wait for the figure to sense your presence, and for a confrontation to begin.

The figure stiffens up, finally aware that they were not alone. In one swift motion, they draw a sword from seemingly out of nowhere and whip around, pointing it straight at your heart.

The two of you stare at each other, at a loss for words.

It was a woman. A young, dark-haired girl with pigtails, a pale white face, and an emotionless expression. There was something about her cold, expressionless stare that felt almost deadly, and this was something that you strangely admired, odd as though it was in the moment.

On her part, she didn't know what she was looking at. Of course, she had an idea of what to expect, but it was certainly not this. A hulking, black figure with rows of sharp, white teeth, with two blank sclerae for eyes staring curiously into her own. And though the sight of you would send just about anybody else screaming and running in the other direction, there was something about you that was oddly mesmerizing for her. Something intriguing.

She lowers her sword, letting it fall to her side as she looks you up and down, as though sizing up her opponent.

"... What are you?"

Venom smiles, opening up half of its face to reveal your own, causing the young girl's eyes to widen in shock.

"We are Venom." You say in unison, just as Venom starts to retreat back into your body, leaving you rather exposed.

The young girl continues staring.

"You're human."

You grin. "Well... mostly."

You didn't know what to do. Instinct was pulling at your every nerve, telling you that this woman was dangerous and that fleeing was the best option at the moment. But... you couldn't.

"Who are you?" You ask. "Where am I? What is this place?"

Her gaze turns cold.

"I think that I have the liberty of asking the questions first. You just committed a murder, and that blood on your hands gives you no right to be asking questions just yet. So I will ask you again. What are you?"

You sigh. Though it was in your very power to leave, you decided that it would be best to make fewer enemies and more friends, dare you say the word. And to do that you would need to cooperate.

"I am Y/N L/N. I am a human. And I have this parasite—"

"PARASITE?!"

"—sorry, I meant symbiote. I have this symbiote that lives inside my body, and he gives me all these powers that I have. I'd be dead without him."

"Damn right!"

The woman merely stares at you coldly, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits "Where did the two of you come from?"

You shrug. "Not here. We think... We think we may be from another universe, and that we somehow managed to wind up in this one. Don't ask me how, I'm just as lost as you are."

The young girl's gaze turns even colder, if that was even possible.

"Parallel realities, you say?"

You couldn't tell whether she believed you or not.

Taking the opportunity to speak up, you clear your throat and step forward.

"I didn't quite catch your name there, Miss...?"

She glares daggers at you.

"Wednesday. Wednesday Addams. And we're not done yet, Y/N. I still have some questions."

"Fire away." You sigh wearily.

"Why did you murder that man?" She shoots, her eyes glaring at you with full intensity by now.

You sigh.

"We had to. He was gonna shoot if we didn't stop him." You smile sadly. "It's... kind of what we do. Back home, we're the Lethal Protector."

"The what?"

At her words, Venom pops out his head next to yours, causing Wednesday to back away a few paces.

"The Lethal Protector! Protect the innocent! Crush the wicked!"

Wednesday stares at the grinning, toothy head suspended in midair next to you, before turning her gaze back to you.

"There are cops looking for you. They will find you if you're not careful."

Wait, was she letting you go?

"You're letting us go? Just like that?" You ask, hardly daring to believe it.

Wednesday nods.

"I see no reason to doubt your integrity as of yet, seeing as how you've demonstrated that your intentions are, for lack of better wording, not bad." She looks you up and down. "Take care out there."

She turns to leave, leaving you just as befuddled as you were when she came.

"Wait!"

You call out, causing her to spin in place at the sound of your voice.

"What?" She asks, sounding a bit annoyed.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Will I get to see you again?"

Wednesday ponders this for a moment.

"Don't count on it." She turns, walking in the other direction.

Venom engulfs you once again as she leaves, and you scale a nearby tree as you begin to make your way deeper into the woods.

"You like her."

Your symbiote purrs in your ear, it's tone sounding both accusatory and amused.

"Shut up. We just met. And besides, she was only trying to help." You retort, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Well... I like her!"

Venom declares triumphantly, but your mind is preoccupied with other matters.

You really hope that you would see her again.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #male reader #male!reader #wednesday addams x male reader #male!y/n #netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday x male reader #venom #symbiote

[choclodox]

Lyle’s IQ score Head Canon

HEAR ME OUT: as much as Lyle def gives me himbo™️ energy, I also feel like he’s supposed to be…PRETTY SMART? he’s just also goofy. Like, I feel like he’s one of those friends that’s the smartest but also the dumbest person you’ve ever had at the same time.

Here is my evidence (dons glasses and grabs a laser pointer)

1. First and foremost, I’m pretty sure Quaritch wouldn’t let a dumbo be able to advance to the rank of Corporal, so Lyle needs to have SOME level of competency (but there’s still some room for his goofball nature lol).

Side note, studies show that people who are comical tend to have higher IQs since it ranks critical thinking to understand humor and make jokes. So Lyle is at least smart in that department.

2. In the first movie, we can see that Trudy trusts him enough to work on her Samson. We all know how much Trudy LOVED her Baby, so she must have had some serious trust in Lyle (someone who wasn’t an RDA mechanic) to let him even TOUCH her Rogue One’s equipment.

3. Also in the first movie, Lyle actually knows his stuff about combat theory and the AMP suits. When Quaritch has Lyle survey the aftermath of the Omatikaya’s retaliation for the destruction of the Tree of Voices, Lyle is able to describe in detail what the damages are. He’s able to tell that the arrows were fired from Ikrans based off the angles of the arrows in the damaged equipment and dead bodies, he can say for a fact that the AMP suits are not just damaged but what exactly is damaged (the Driver in this case).

4. Now in the 2nd movie, we actually get to see more of his smarts come into action. Lyle actually gets promoted from Corporal to Lieutenant and becomes second in command to Quaritch. The RDA wouldn’t let that happen if he was purely a trigger happy soldier; you needs some gray matter for that position.

5. Next, Quaritch looks to LYLE to pull the security feed off of OG Quaritch’s AMP suit. And Quaritch is a smart guy too, but it feels like Big Curly Q knows he’s out of his depth on this one and just hands it off to Lyle because he knows that he actually knows his stuff.

But ya, thanks for coming to my TedTalk :)

Also, a few other hcs I embrace

Lyle is that ONE gringo friend that knows FLUENT Spanish (and possibly knows other languages as well). And when I say Gringo, I don’t mean he’s white but is still Hispanic, no. There is a reason why JamCam named this man after Wainfleet, Ohio (the Ohio of Ohio). But nobody questions his ability to speak Spanish. You leave him alone in any Authentic Hispanic setting and come back in 20 minutes, they’re running to the liquor store because they already ran out of Tequila/pisco/etc. TEAM LATINO LOVES HIM

*side note, Jake probably knows some Spanish too since he did his tours in Venezuela. Who knows, maybe he taught some to Spider because he knows he’s team Latino. A

*and Quaritch probably knows some of Nigeria’s native languages (Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, etc) since he did 3 whole tours there before coming to Pandora

Lyle likes 90s music (Britney Spears, Mariah Carey) but mainly SHAKIRA. I could see him just dancing alone to Hips Don’t Lie and someone walks in trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice and they have to clear their throat and he just screams when he finally notices them

He can dance Samba, Cumbia, Tango, Flamenco. ANYTHING in that family HE CAN DO IT FLAWLESSLY ASU PAPI

Might come from a family of mechanics and worked in a mom and pop mechanic shop (I embrace that one HC where he has a love for cars and just engineering in general). Maybe he wanted to be a more refined engineer but just couldn’t pass the tests since he was more of an intuitive thinker and tests favor more of the technical thinkers.

Likes DragonBall Z but will never admit it

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatarfanart #avatar2 #miles quaritch #jake sully #trudy chacon #lyle wainfleet #recom lyle wainfleet #lyle wainfleet headcanons

[elmhat]

Dreblr Survey Results Pt.3 - Confessions.

So. The time has come. There was a section at the end of the survey where it simply said to "say something unhinged," and you really did! Here are some of the most entertaining ones.

Again, I'm pasting these directly from the form. If anyone thinks I wrote this stuff myself I think I'll go and sit under the sea for several hours.

⚠️ A lot of these are NSFW. I'm serious, please be responsible :)

People being really really funny

something unhinged

Something unhinged

Ur mom is unhinged

penis

Calls for violence against everyone who has ever wronged Dream

I want to blend (with a blender) c!q and c!sam and throw the substance to the wolves

Quackity should have died

I think Tommy should have stayed dead

Dream should have actually tortured tommy

Exile was hilarious. :)

Calls for… forgiveness?

they should've made up with c q in the finale streams

I forgive Q. We don't know what really happened behind the scenes.

Sam, both c! and cc!

Sam is Daddy and I know for a fact he reads AO3 fics that man is NOT normal

cc!sam closeted c!awesamdream shipper

I don't think anything I say can top Sam having a scrapbook of sexy criminals

you know how sam has a bunch of clones of himself to inhabit. alright now imagine him doing that with dream. this is how the awesamdream baby can still win.

c!Sam and c!Dream are fundamentally very different characters with very different wordviews but one of the few things they have in common is praise kink.

I don't think this counts as shipping but that's what I'm calling it

c!dnf gay sex post prison arc happy ending (REAL) (I SAW IT ON THE SCRIPT DOCUMENTS IN DREAM'S COMPUTER)

um um c!dnf in gay love idk they are the only ones for each other sorry

DNF kiss real

CDNF IS OVERHYPEDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I SAID IT AND I MEANT IT

If c!dreamnotnap had slept together i think dream would have stayed sane

i think s apnap fucks d ream with his small dick and they both love it and love each amen 🙏

i want to get c!sapnap pregnant

The most superior ship is Dream/Technoblade/Punz/DreamXD/Foolish/Kristin/Philza Because in this household we love big polycules

i think dream should've done more crime and fucked awesamdude

Dream and Sam fucked in that prison

C!DREAM IS A TRANS WOMAN AND AWESAMDREAM FUCKED NASTY IN THAT PRISON !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dreblr's overwhelming preoccupation with c!Awesamdream is getting kinda worrying ngl

dream and quackity are what I seek in a relationship

c dreamity is my otp i love those unhinged bastards kissing eachother

Dreambur needs more love and I’m tired of it being pushed aside

is it even unhinged to assume that Dream fucked Fundy, Fundy's dad (Wilbur) and Fundy's Grandpa (Phil) I feel like that's just a regular sentimet on dreblr by now

dreamza prevails

Dnb best ship

Doomsday trio deserves to fuck nasty imho

He fucked that old man

c!Dream needs to get dicked down I think that would solve a lot of problems post nut clarity if you will

NSFW so don't feel like you need to put this in any compilation i completely understand BUT whenever the c!sam cuck chair crosses my dash, in my head it's traditional dynamic omegaverse c!dnb. c!sam's an alpha who wanted to show off to omega c!dream before claiming and mating with him for their mutual first time. he decides to do this by challenging alpha c!techno to a fight, but to his shock, lost. badly. he has to watch alpha c!techno mate with and claim c!dream right in front of him, because watching such a clearly superior alpha demonstrate his abilities causes c!dream to go into heat and c!techno is happy to help him with that. he's been looking for a mate anyway and c!dream just so happens to be his type. meanwhile, c!dream wants to give c!techno as many litters as his body can handle and barely remembers who that other guy in the room even is, even after his heat calms down.

Dream harems? I guess?

c!Dream has/should have a harem

Dream is a pretty boy and should have taken off his mask to start a harem to prevent war.

Things that I really don't think are that unhinged around here, given their competition

i was such a crazy c!dream apologist in 2021 i actually had a dream about it

I have a spreadsheet with every tag, character and relationship tag for every dsmp fanfciton I read and liked/found interesting.

I know people will say it is/was kinda cringy but I will never think that or regret being part of the fandom (that's not really unhinged I couldn't think of anything sorry lol)

I know its delulu beyond belief and i will never say this not anonymously but sometimes i fantasize about if i was able to be friends with dream team

Wilbur wasn't a hero or "good guy" at any point in his storyline.

Doomsday was 100% justified. (...is that unhinged enough or do I need to pick something else?)

People being too polite for this question

Sorry I am not THAT unhinged

no, but i thank you for the opportunity! I am sadly to hinged, normal even

And more!

George is the main character and we got robbed by not having him meet c!Dream again!! but in meta it is because they are together in real life and who needs their depression character anymore in that senario.

c!DTeam reconciliation arc was always intended

c!drunz are necrophiliacs.

Okay. Okay here me out here OK. So. Imagine Norman (bald guy) is c!schlatt and Pat (white haired dude) is c!Phil OK yw ENJOYYYYYYY : https://youtu.be/b7Bj1dBMYBE?si=Cz79CEISAg6EcMYS

Techno's age of 3 is actually canon and New L'Manberg comitted infanticed

C!Tubbo is the best faction leader. The bar isn't high but I think Technically he did well

c!foolish rights unlimited forever. he deserved blood sacrifices

Cc Sam and Dram were the most normal about the prison

I think quackity should have gotten to do more on screen cannibalism

If c!Quackity had taken hormones to balance his insane lust (Wilbur, Technoblade, Schlatt, etc) he would never have gone crazy send post

I think a Daedalus arc with Quackity instead would've been such a downhill for Dream's sanity. Send tweet.

in a server where we have a c!dream made of oreo cream au . quackity eats him in prison . there is fanart .

Please sir please sir please no more

✨️truama ✨️

all of dreblr contains more competency in media literacy than the rest of tumblr combined

i love how these characters hate each other, keep hurting each other, but tied to each other in a way they just can't shake off.

the only way for c!Dream to be properly Redeemed is to live out the worst thing he subjected another person to: *cue his tropical island paradise getaway arc, sunbathing on the beach with no one to bother him except for friends occasionally visiting* #trust

c!Dream was building an underwater stone temple to satan in order to pray for the apocalypse change my mind

C!Dream is very anthy himemiya coded

c!dream is a cow hybrid and has 4 beautiful tits

I feel like the only cc!dream enjoyer who's also a c!tommy enjoyer

C!dream eggs Monday is the flag of dreblr 🥚

Reminder that C!Dream is a stripper

Dream spoonfeeding post

i think dream should've been worse. as a treat. let him murder more minors please.

Prison feels like cc!Dream’s little whump arc. Also, prisontrio favorite grouping. The best angst and whump in town.

Whenever I write whump fanfics it feels like I’m sticking my blorbos in an empty pickle jar and shaking it like a kid holding a snowglobe for the first time

Todo es un invento del gobierno

Today's culinary special is teeth cake

i think we should all collectively gaslight people/edit the wiki to try and convince people omegaverse was canon to the DSMP. or make a fake second wiki.

*grabs you by the shoulders* ok so after wilbur died and fundy was alone and grieving he kept getting picked on for being an orphan by the rest of the server, for example puffy built an obsidian box around his house in new lmanburg and labelled it an orphanage. fundy was already dealing with the loss of his dad + the appearance of a ghost that was supposed to be his dad but didn't remember half of his life, and now he had to deal with this too. so he starts to mine it meanwhile jack manifold is trying to cheer him up, not helped by the fact that ghostbur keeps hanging around despite fundy not wanting him there. Jack tries to get fundy to look on the bright side, he says that the obsidian box around his house could function as protection from tnt, and so, to prove that's bullshit, fundy places a tnt beside the house he spent so long building and blows up a portion of it. Destroys his own work, a part of his home just to prove a point. It's a self destructive act of defiance. Ghostbur and jack both agree that was unnecessary and jack maintains it could protect the house from outside attacks. fundy continues to take the wall down. Ghostbur fixes the hole in fundy's house, but leaves evidence of the explosion. He puts a sight down saying "-CAUTION- Fallen debris". Now, I need you to know how insane I am over the fact that after doomsday, after the entirety of new Lmanburg was decimated, that sign was the only part of fundy's home that remained unbroken. A sign, surrounded by the rubble of a fallen nation, destruction as far as the eye can see, warning of fallen debris. A sign for a self destructive act of defiance. I am going to eat drywall about this

Okay, one more. People I'm hugging

i miss technoblade

I really want to be a part of dreblr but I feel like they're all cool kids and I'm the quiet weirdo kid hiding in the corner. It feels like if you weren't there for the Founding of the Great Dreblr, there's no way in now. Kinda like you can't get hired as a restaurant janitor as your first job if you haven't already owned the place for 5 years prior

I am in your walls

Thanks everyone for forcing my eyeballs to see this! Reading your responses was certainly an experience I'll be stuck with!

#long post #dreblr #random elm thoughts #elm polls

[moonffe]

my lips might've slipped

ethan landry pt3

pt1 pt2 warnings: same as previous part, mentions of daddy kink, smooching mwah mwah, ARGUING (that's literally what the book is about)

a/n: please ignore how the writing style changes like three times throughout the chapter. also my cat scratched me yesterday and i was in pain while proofreading this

Wayne called your name, your eyes immediately narrowing. The hospital lights were too bright— you couldn't see properly. You tried to sit up, but a twinge of pain in the middle of your forehead made you squeak and fall back onto the pillows supporting your back.

“Easy, don't hurt yourself.” Ethan's father reached out to support your elbow. You blinked until your eyes adapted to the lighting, giving Wayne a nod to signal it was okay to let go. “Are you feeling alright? You got stitches. Doctor said no organs were damaged.”

You wanted to say "thank God", or at least say that to yourself, but you wouldn't exactly be angry at life or God himself if you died. You deserved it. You deserved every thing that was going wrong in your life, and yet you were crying like a school girl and begging for mercy. You almost snuffled at his words, though the situation wasn't exactly amusing. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

“You just need to get high and patched up so the wound doesn't open.” His eyes briefly focused on your stomach, then back at your face. “You think you can do it, or should I call Quinn?”

Your eyes widened in disagreement. “She has stuff to take care of. I'll do it.” You surveyed the room, curious. Did anyone even come to visit you? You didn't notice when you passed out. You couldn't remember the exact moment. You felt weak, though. It could be because you had just woken up or because you lost a lot of blood. “How do I get out of here?” You asked, the man in front of you seemingly thoughtful for a moment.

“I'm sure I can make up an excuse.”

The door to your room opening made you flinch. Ethan's tall form walking through made your pulse quicken. He was holding a dead woman by the wrist. “Here's your excuse.” He breathed out.

“Fuck— ing Christ, Ethan.” You winced, but his face looked innocent when the two of you made eye contact. “How the fuck did you get that in here?”

“We're the only ones on this floor thanks to Dad.” He sighed, edging your bed to put the woman down.

“That doesn't really tell me why.” You raised your eyebrows, stretching your sore torso to get a better look at her face. You noticed the finger marks on her neck. He choked her. “Ew.” Your eyes met his. “Who is she?”

“Don't know. Some random nurse.”

“We'll just put her under the covers and make sure no one tries to come in. You're recovering, no doctor is coming to check on you.” Wayne told you, nudging her hand with his boot as he still sat on the edge of your bed.

You playfully rolled your eyes before responding. "Well, that's comforting.”

“It'll be fine. You have enough time to go to Gale’s and back here.” Ethan's dad got up, making a disgusted face when he had to avoid the corpse on the floor. “We'll think of something if it takes you longer than expected.”

“Okay…” You stared at the woman for a little too long, snapping out of it with twisted lips. “Do you guys have my—”

“Here.” Ethan knew what you wanted before you said it out loud, as usual. He approached to give you your phone. “Picked it up on my way out.”

You were just interested in answering your best friend’s text. Your fingers brushed when you took it, and you wished you could feel that warmth for a little longer. Maybe he thought the same, because his features soured further when he backed away. “Thanks, Ethan.”

“Any time.”

“She's calling you by your name now.” Wayne interrupted the moment. The two of you glared at him. “What happened to ‘asshole’?” He looked at you, eyebrows raising. “Or ‘fuckhead’?”

“Dad.” Ethan grumbled.

Well, that was mean. You felt a little bad for his dad. “We're not on bad terms anymore.” You tried to be a little nicer.

“Took a while.” He said, and you immediately regretted how compassionate you were. “Pitty, really. You're going to be around the group while he and Quinn do all the dirty job.”

You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't feel offended. This was usual Wayne Kirsh behavior. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Would you be mad if it was?”

"Dad." Ethan seethed, his tone more intense than before.

You shot the brunet with a “I know” look, but he didn't give a shit. He was still pacing and clenching his jaw. “Will you calm down?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“No, I'm not letting him—”

“Is there a way to change that?” You blurted out. Ethan took offense in your words, stepping back and snuffling. God.

“You're supposed to be at the theater.” Wayne just sided-eyed his son, not caring. “We can't show three Ghostfaces, Y/N. You'll have to stick with the targets.”

“Fuck.”

“Good luck, alright? Don't get hurt.”

“Thank you, Wayne.” You faked a smile, and he returned it. He turned around to leave, stopping short before crossing the door.

“Are you coming with me?”

His son looked him up and down, shaking his head grimly. “I need to speak to her.”

You rubbed your temples as Wayne peeked his head in to analyze the room. He looked at you, then at Ethan, eyebrows raised. “I'll lock the door.”

Ethan's arms were crossed over his stomach as he waited for his dad to leave. You looked at his face, but he was focused on the floor. You finally heard the elevator, and you sighed.

“How are you feeling?” He started walking towards your bed, sitting where Wayne was sitting just a minute ago. His hand went to your thigh, squeezing it over the blanket affectionately. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not more than usual.” You said. You wished you didn't, but you always leaned into his touch. Ethan's eyes softened, his lower lip catching between his teeth.

You were helping Richie make a movie a few years ago, and let's say the main actress wasn't exactly weak. You took the damage.

“I still feel bad about that.” He focused on his hand on your thigh, leaning down to plant a kiss there. “Left a scar.”

He was going to kill you every time he did shit like that. You glanced at your heart monitor, but he didn't even notice your labored breathing with what you were about to say. “Told Sam my ex boyfriend was abusive.”

The look he gave you was feral, demanding. “Did you strip in front of her or something?”

“Jesus. I was wearing shorts, Ethan.”

He didn't look convinced at all when he stared at you that way, but he ended up blinking, looking down at his hand. “Had my right to ask.”

You hated when he was that way. You fucking hated it. “You didn't, actually. You don't need to know every person I hook up with.”

You knew he felt his blood burn at your words, and you enjoyed it. “Y/N.” He called you out, shoulders visibly tense. He hated what you were doing.

“What?”

“Don't say that.” He failed to keep the possessive growl out of his voice. “I want you so bad it might actually kill me. Please don't say that.”

“Funny words coming from a murderer. Am I supposed to be flattered or running away from you?” You rasped, glaring.

Ethan looked away to recompose himself, raising his eyebrows with fake surprise. “Whatever turns you on.”

You paused. This time, he noticed your heart monitor. He smiled, tongue between his teeth as he looked at you, waiting for your explanation.

“What? Am I wrong for getting scared at how unhinged you are?” You lied, Ethan's eyelashes fluttered as he held back a chuckle. You were trying hard not to, but you also let out a laugh. “That's actually disgusting. What you said.”

“You think so?” He flopped on his side, biting his lip as he fidgeted with the blanket covering your knee. “Because there's more from where that came from.” The realization that he was being playful but serious with his words made you swallow. Hard.

“What are we doing, Ethan?” You asked. He focused on the sight of your knee, still playing a little with the blanket, and shrugged.

He could be the antagonist of the story and whatever people wanted to call him, but he wasn't a psychopath. He could feel. He showed emotion. And you were beginning to think he was the most vulnerable when he was around you.

“We can't just get back together for the fuck of it. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I do.” He sounded like he was clenching his jaw when he raised his head. “But would it be so bad? I mean— my dad wouldn't give a shit, and neither would Quinn. So why worry?”

“Because we hurt people.” Your guts tightened at your own words. “We're even more dangerous when we're together.”

“Do you still think about it?” He questioned, his eyebrows furrowing. “About him?”

God. “Please don't bring that up right now. I don't care about him, I care about what we could do to the people we love.”

“You love me. Think about what you're doing to me.” He looked dire as his doe eyes pierced into yours, he clenched his jaw. “I can't keep it out of my head, Y/N.”

You let out a sigh. The conversation was starting to annoy you. “Keep what out of your head?”

“You.” He confessed. You were holding back so many words as his face slowly transitioned from crazed, to sad. “Did you think about it? About getting back together?”

“Do you really not give a shit about anything?”

“I give a shit about you. About us. And that's all I'm focusing on.”

You closed your eyes. God, was that man persistent. He pulled you into a hug without waiting for a response, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. His lips pressed against the top of your head, whispering reassurances into your hair that fell short to everything you were feeling. You never got your happy ending. You wondered if you ever would. First, it was because of fear. And now, it was because you tried, and it didn't end well. But you never stopped loving him.

His cologne went straight into your nostrils as you surrendered into the embrace, a muffled sound of pleasure escaping your lips when his fingers started running through your hair carefully. You were trying hard not to bawl your eyes out. “History won't repeat itself, sweetheart.” He whispered against your hair. “We're going through some messed up shit, and I don't want you to deal with all that on your own.” You pulled away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “Let me love you, Y/N.”

“And if I say no?” You asked, just out of pure curiosity. You had tried to imagine a life without him these past months, but nothing made sense in your mind. You genuinely considered suicide after getting revenge for Richie.

You couldn't like without him. You couldn't live without him always touching your thigh or holding your hand under the table when you were in public, without him constantly bringing you coffee and buying you dinner because your parents were never home, and never cared enough like he did.

Without him waiting for your classes to be over, and seeing that sweet smile of his when he spotted you between the crowd. You couldn't live seeing him waiting outside another girl's classroom and have her seeking his approval so much she dressed as Spider-Gwen for him. You couldn't.

He took a deep breath, sounding pained. He was avoiding your eyes as he kept stroking and playing with your hair. “I'll leave after we get the job done.”

“To a different city?”

He nodded, your left ear suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world. “Maybe finish my major.”

“You don't have a major, Ethan.” You felt a knot forming in your stomach, but the brunet still looked nonchalant as if he wasn't telling you about how you weren't gonna see him anymore.

“I'll think of something.”

“I don't want you to.” You immediately retorted.

“Then take me back.” Ethan looked at you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Yours drifted downwards, caught between his puppy eyes and pink lips before sighing. “Fuck it.” You muttered, pulling him on top of you. The slow kiss deepened as you held the back of his neck, his hands lightly resting on your waist, fingers tracing circles over the material of your hospital gown. Ethan's elbows framed your head, and he chuckled into your mouth, your heart monitor was going insane. “I'm gonna kill you.”

“Then get off me.” you teased, a smile playing on your lips. Ethan pressed one last kiss onto your mouth just as the door swung open. Wayne didn't seem surprised.

“Interrupting something?”

Ethan asked for your opinion with only a look, his forearm pressed above your head, shooting an angry look at his dad. "I thought you said you'd lock the door.”

“Forgot.” He shrugged. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and began to sit up, making sure not to hurt you with his body weight. “You need to leave, Y/N. We don't have that much time.”

You never exactly hated Wayne, but you never got along with him either. Between his dad and his mom… you preferred his dad.

“I know.” You said, half-lidded eyes searching for Ethan. He slowly exhaled, walking over to your hospital bed and holding your hands as he helped you up.

"I'll walk you out.” Ethan offered in a low tone.

You got high on painkillers. Like— severely high. Fully conscious and with your 5 senses intact, but hyperactive. Like you owned a bag of fucking amphetamines. It helped you stab Gale In the stomach with a piece of broken glass after you landed on her coffee table and broke it, It also helped you run after Sam shot you on the arm.

You stumbled into the first apartment that caught your eye, knowing it was empty by the looks of it. Your hands were bloody, so were your legs. You were sliding and constantly tripping on the wooden floor before you finally reached the couch.

You pressed your back against the arm rest, face scrunched up in pain. You were seeing a lot of blood, you were scared to let go of your shoulder and bleed out. What kind of pathetic death would that be? You looked around, mostly to calm yourself down. Your pulse was over the sky, and you had the impression that was making you bleed even more.

Where was Ethan? He was hidden at Gale's apartment because he refused to let you do the job on your own. Well, you succeeded without his help, like you always did. And now he was nowhere to be seen just because he woke up feeling protective of you. What if he tried looking for you, and someone saw him? What if he got hurt? You cursed the boy you loved under your breath. You had to get up. Now.

You rolled onto your stomach, on your hands and knees, trying to stand up when the sound of the front door creaking open almost made you shit yourself. You immediately grasped the knife next to you. Ethan had a horrified look on his face that only worsened when he noticed the blood on the floor. You lowered your knife. Thank God it was him.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit. Y/N.” He exclaimed, rushing towards you. "Tell me where it hurts." His eyes scanned your bloody form, focusing on your bicep. "Here?” His erratic gaze met yours. At your nod, he wrapped an arm under your shoulders to help you up. The pain making you yelp. “We're gonna fix you up. Brand new, baby. Keep your eyes open for me.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to leave?” You hugged back, groaning. Maybe it wasn't just your shoulder. What if your stitches opened? “The police already got here, E, Sam's in the building—”

“Can you walk?” He asked, dismissing everything you just said. What the fuck? He gave you a once-over with wrinkles on his forehead. “Good. Lean on me.”

“Ethan.” You scowled. “Answer me.”

A groan erupted from his throat. He pressed you up against him and held the back of your head so you wouldn’t hit yourself against the wall. He was walking towards the door. “We're gonna make a run for it.”

“Anyone could see us if we walk through that door.” You growled. “And if Sam’s still looking for me after I ran off, we’re gonna bump into her. Who the fuck told you I could run?”

He looked down at you. “Do we have another option?”

No, you didn't. “If I die, it's your fault.” You warned.

“If you die, I'll kill myself.” He assured you.

Ethan opened the door and peeked his head out to look in both directions, he pulled you out with him. You ended up on the street, walking through crowds of nosey people like you couldn't feel your blood slowly stop pumping to your brain.

Ethan's hand was pressed on your arm, he ripped the sleeve of his polo shirt to wrap it around your bicep and stop the bleeding, but you weren't sure it was helping. Ethan kept whispering concerned sweet nothings into your ear, but you couldn't take it anymore. You were giving up.

You wearily pushed Ethan away, who just stared at you as you walked on your own and stumbled up the stoop. You sprawled out, fingers grazing the gateway to the lobby. Now you were just being dramatic.

“Need me to carry you?” Ethan knelt down, distress written all over his face. “I can't treat that here, Y/N. Someone might see us.” He glanced around, but the streets were dark except for the lights from some windows and light posts, and you didn't have that much time to get to the theater.

“What if they don't? If someone walks by, they'll probably think we're making out.” You fluttered your eyelashes, trying to convince him. He went silent and sighed in a fatherly way.

“Does it hurt a lot?” He placed a hand on your waist, the contact making you flinch. “Easy, easy… it's just me.” He unwrapped the cloth from your arm carefully, the chilly night air hitting your wound and making you shiver. Ethan tried to calm you down, moving his hand to your face to caress your cheek. He stared at your wound, and his eyebrows drew together in pondering. “The bullet just grazed you.” He said softly. “You need antibiotics and some stitches.”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded. You were losing strength, and with just a second of looking at your face, he became aware.

“You're gonna be okay.” He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I'll do this fast. I don't want you to be in pain, it hurts me too.”

“Boyfriend of the year.” You joked, but he didn't seem amused.

“I try.” And he kissed you again.

Ethan had to do some research before moving to Manhattan. The four of you did, actually. Like how to treat a wound. Quinn was fast. Really fast. Wayne could get away with a lot of shit because he worked for the NYPD. You, a good actress, could be around the group all day and have some good alibis.

Ethan was the most skilled with his hands, so he was the one designated to deal with situations like this. But there was a flaw attached to them. They trembled. Frequently.

They said it could be some kind of PTSD, and it only started happening after Richie's death. But it always hurt your heart seeing this big, serious, aggressive guy show his soft side when his bony fingers started trembling. You grabbed his hand softly, Ethan looked at you, puzzled by your actions before you brought his wrist to your mouth and kissed it.

You gave his hand a last squeeze before letting go. You felt his eyes on you while you took enough painkillers to last through Act III. More like… sedate you, through Act III. “You alright?” He asked, and you nodded.

“High as fuck, but I feel better.” You glanced at the bloody cloths around you, knowing you had to get rid of them. Where the fuck did he leave his backpack? “Thank you, Eth.”

“C'mere.” He opened his arms wide in response, a sound of pleasure escaping his lips after you curled up into a ball in his arms. He kissed your cheek, chin moving to rest on top of your head. “You hadn't called me that in so long.”

“What? Eth?” He hummed, kissing your hair. “You didn't exactly give me reasons to, so…”

Ethan showed you a sweet smile, his eyes on your lips like he was fighting the urge to kiss you. “I don't wanna leave…” He mumbled, rubbing his nose against your hair.

You looked at your cloak next to you, grabbing it to get your phone. Ethan's hand held the back of your neck as you pressed your cheek hardly against his chest. 9:30 PM. “We could stay here a little longer.”

“Good.” Gently craning your head with the hold he had on you, your eyelashes made contact with your skin, his breath warm against your bare neck. He started kissing it, a popping sound ringing in your ears with every kiss. His grip around your waist tightened.

He pulled away from your mouth after a few minutes of making out, panting softly, and he asked. “Why did you do it?” His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed, damp lips parted. “If you don't mind me asking. It was so sudden, I just—”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.” He told you with a raspy voice. You could try to explain, but you didn't have the mind for it at the moment. He probably didn't, either. The last ounce of energy the two of you had wasted it on all the kisses you missed in a year.

Ethan whimpered as you hid a sweaty curl behind his ear. “Would we be on bad terms if I said I don't want to talk about it?”

He looked into your eyes silently, but shook his head right after. “I can't afford losing you.” He kissed your forehead, and then pushed you onto his chest again. “Not for the second time.”

“I regret it,” You gave his exposed, glistening neck a light kiss. He was kinda sweaty, but you didn't mind. You wiped some of the sweat with your wrist, biting your lip. “Killing them.”

“You did it for a good cause.” He reminded you, but he didn't get it.

“I can't stop thinking about it.”

“You don't need them, baby.” He purred, his fingers tracing figures on your waist. “You have me.”

His comforting eyes haltered at the almost mocking look you held. “You're not my dad.”

“I could be. From now on.”

“Ew.” You laughed, but kissed his chin to not make him feel like you were making fun of him. “I'm older than you.”

He hated when you brought up his age, looking like an angry toddler. "It's only two years.”

“Remember how much the girls from your grade would bully you because you liked someone older?” Ethan's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“Older and my sister's best friend.” He held your wrists, rubbing his thumb over the weak veins. “It was a hard year.”

“Every year is hard.”

He shook his head, raising his eyes to yours. “They weren't when you were in them.”

You had to pause at his angel eyes. You didn't deserve him. “I'm sorry it ended like that.”

“I'm grateful it started like this.” He nodded, cupping your jaw with a hand as he leaned in and kissed your lips again. You moaned into his mouth, his fingers tangling between locks of your messy hair and tugging at it to kiss you deeper. His tongue felt almost apologetic as his eyebrows furrowed.

You and Ethan had gone through hell, and maybe the way to get over everything is if you were together. Really together. Not stealing glances from each corner of crowded rooms and walking away as if the other wasn't on your mind before falling asleep or while kissing someone else.

“Jeez.” Your best friend's voice made you pull away instantly and wipe the wetness of your lips. Ethan's eyes were wide, and there was that sparkle in them that only appeared when you kissed him. “You're supposed to buy her dinner before you shove your tongue down her throat, pig.” She slapped Ethan's shoulder.

“Quinn—” He was about to speak, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“She knows.”

“That's not what I was going to ask.” He glanced at you, then back at his sister. “Do we have to leave?”

Quinn nodded. “Dad’s on his way.” He wasn't surprised? At all? Quinn narrowed her eyes at the two of you. “Go on, talk.”

“About what?” You frowned.

“Are you back together?”

“We were never together.”

She crossed her arms, acting like the good cop in questioning. “I saw the van moving that night in the woods—” Oh my God.

“Jesus, Quinn!”

She looked genuinely confused. “I'm being honest here.”

“So you just decided to keep quiet until one of us told you?” Ethan raised an eyebrow as he stared at his sister, placing a comforting hand on the small of your back and pinching your skin to remind you everything was alright.

You tried to push his hand away, but he didn't care and just kept rubbing your back. You sighed and surrendered. Ethan pinched you again when you rested your head on his shoulder.

“It would've been disrespectful. I didn't want to make you guys uncomfortable.” Your best friend admitted. “I wasn't spying on you, but it was kinda obvious. Paul got scared.”

You winced at the name of one of her boyfriends. “I don't wanna know about that fucker.”

“He was a good kisser.”

“What did I just say?”

“Sorry.” She pursed her lips. “You're never kissing me again, though. You have E’s saliva now.” Quinn nudged her brother's shoulder with her phone. Your boyfriend glared at her.

“You've been with I don't know how many abusive guys and I'm the man that disgusts you?” He asked, his features softening shortly after when you placed your hand over his on the cold concrete, kissing his cheek.

“What makes you think I didn't have it before?” Quinn paused, putting her hands up.

“I'm not sleeping tonight.” The way she shook her head made you laugh.

“He's your brother. It's like sharing a glass of water.” Your eyes asked the brunet for his opinion, but he had no idea what you were talking about as his got smaller. “You've never done that before?” You scowled.

“I only did that with mom.” Quinn confessed, earning a dirty look from her brother.

“What kind of incestuous shit is that? I've never done that.”

You slapped his arm. Hard. And he chuckled. “Don't look at me like I'm the freak here. The two of you have killed more people than I have.”

Chad's scream echoed through the lobby. Your eyes widened as Quinn thrust the knife into him right before you, Tara, and Sam.

Tara attempted to run towards Chad, but you held her back, Sam following suit, gripping her arm. The three of you were practically wheezing for all the running, but the only thing you were concerned about was if Ethan got hurt after Chad threw that camera at him. Well, the fuck was getting what he deserved.

They continued stabbing Chad, back and forth. You and Sam exchanged a look as you held Tara. Bad thing was, you didn't know what, but there was something wrong with that look. Something that prepared you for the moment she released her sister to grab you instead.

She caught you off guard. You went face first into her neck, hollering when she drove Billy's knife into your stomach. The siblings immediately halted their assault on Chad. You tried to move, but she had a tight hold on you.

“What are you doing!?” Tara cried, and Sam twisted the knife inside you, prompting another scream. She pulled it out, shoving you towards the two Ghostfaces. You landed on Ethan's body, and he instantly hugged you, his chest against your back as you clutched your stomach.

“She's one of them,” Sam stated, tucking away the knife in her belt. “And that one?” She pointed at the arms around you, smiling. “That's Ethan.”

Tara's eyes betrayed her as she looked at you for longer than needed, but you weren't showing any emotion that wasn't rage. “How do you—”

Wayne burst through the door behind the two sisters. You all looked up, and Ethan's father just huffed. “Fuck, so soon?”

You glanced up as Ethan removed his mask, revealing his teeth as he panted. He hugged you tighter, pressing his body against yours protectively. “She knows." You nodded your head at Wayne, and he shrugged.

“In that case…” He drew his gun, making all of you jump when he shot Chad. Wasn't he already dead? He stumbled to the floor, and Tara started crying even harder. Quinn took off her mask as well.

“How did you find out?” Ethan's father asked, the affable tone in his voice immediately ruining as he pointed his gun at the sisters. “Don't move.” He commanded, Sam pulled Tara behind her in response.

“Tate.” She croaked, her eyes shifting to you in a mocking way. “Your boyfriend should be more careful, Y/N.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You hissed, Ethan giving you a small squeeze to apologize. You looked up at him. “I told you…” You murmured, low enough for just the two of you to hear. His eyebrows twitched.

The Kirshes did all the explaining. Ethan held you close to him, stepping back whenever Sam shot a glare your way. How did Sam find out? She found it odd how much Ethan was talking about you with Chad when he barely knew you, so she went after Tate.

She refused to tell her anything about Ethan at first, but she eventually agreed. It wasn't just her betraying him, since Sam made it a deal after paying her to talk. No wonder she wasn't worried about her fucking wallet.

Tate followed Ethan. She somehow snatched his phone when he was distracted and shared his live location with herself. She saw him leaving with you from an emergency exit at the hospital— then she texted Sam. Telling her that he didn't go all the way up to “talk to you and make things right” like he told Chad.

Something about hating someone until, well— they ended up like Mindy and there was no turning back.

Wayne explained the rules. Exactly what would happen before the police arrived, then it all happened too fast. Wayne tried to grab Tara from Sam to continue with the plan and kill her, but Sam managed to get his gun and shoot him. In the forehead. The three of you froze before Quinn screamed and lunged at Sam, the two began wrestling on the floor while you ran after Tara.

You took her down and wrapped your hands around her neck, but she started scratching you and trying to choke you as well. You were unaware that she was reaching for a knife next to her on the floor until Ethan grabbed and tossed you aside before she could stab you. He took the knife from her hand, Sam's screech hurting your ears. You couldn't blame her; your boyfriend just slit her sister's throat.

Sam desperately stabbed Quinn in the stomach, pushing her away and crawling towards Tara. Quinn grabbed her ankle, pressing her dad's gun against her temple. Sam didn't even put up a fight anymore, she was crying. Your eyes widened as Tara grabbed you by the wrist and started tugging at you. How…? You heard the gunshot at the same time Ethan's curls swayed in the corner of your eye. He whisked Tara away from you again.

You and Quinn exchanged a glance, but there was no time for words or processing. Your priority was to get up and leave everything ready. The police were on their way. Quinn supported you, her grip firm on your shoulder to help you stand straight.

Ethan was straddling Tara, stabbing her back and forth, grunting with each thrust. You were breathing heavily, too focused on Wayne's form to form any proper thought. There was no humanly way that he was alive. No, no, no, no, no, Quinn— You saw the ginger quail in pain at the sight of her dad. You grabbed her wrist to offer comfort, but she didn't even glance at you.

“Ethan, stop.” She entreated, her hands shaking. Ethan remained undeterred, Quinn started panicking further. “Ethan, stop!” She begged.

Her brother raised his head to look at the two of you, exhaling with exhaustion. He got up. “She tried,” he said, taking a deep breath as he redirected his knife from Tara to you. “To hurt her.”

“And she got what she deserved.” You gulped, yanking the knife away from his grasp. “But it was enough.”

“Was it, now?” Ethan rasped, his pallid face smeared by blood contorting to show fake confusion. He took his knife back from your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Don't do this.” You called him out, memories flooding back into your head and making you shiver. “I'm here. Nothing happened to me.”

“You're still bleeding, Y/N.” He harshly reminded you, getting on his knees to look at your wound. Ethan blenched. “Shit, it's deep.” He traced a finger next to the wound. “We need to do this fast. Billy's mask is somewhere near the stage.”

Quinn sniffed, causing you and Ethan to turn and look at her. She was beside Wayne's body, crying. “I'll get it.” She offered, letting go of her father's hand and rushing to the door before you could say anything.

She was struck in the head the moment she left the room. Ethan instinctively pulled you behind him as the sight of your best friend falling to the floor made your heart skip a beat. Danny. Holding the same fucking camera that hit Ethan on the head.

Ethan glanced back at you as you yanked Wayne's gun from the floor and shot Sam's boyfriend. You saw him fall to the floor next to Quinn, and you immediately ran. “Quinn!” You dropped to your knees, desperate to ensure she was still breathing. You pressed two fingers against her throat, sighing. “You okay?”

She nodded, eyes closing with tiredness as her head laid on your lap. Ethan walked behind you and knelt down. He placed his chin on your shoulder as you stroked Quinn's hair affectionately. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Get Billy's mask.”

Ethan rose from his chair at the dining table the moment he saw you crossing the door. His watery, wide eyes stirred a pang of sadness in your heart that made you run towards him and almost knock him over. “Ethan, I'm so sorry…”

He gripped your sweatshirt, holding you close to him. Quinn joined, wrapping her arms around both of you from behind. Their scents mixed together as the three of you stayed there for a moment.

You could feel both of their chests move, and you didn't want to let go. Seeing the siblings with puffy eyes and colored cheeks was making your throat tighten—you couldn't take it. You pulled away slowly, Quinn's head moving to rest on your shoulder while Ethan stood beside you in silence. Their parents looked at you, and it was obvious they had been crying too.

“What happened?” You choked out. Fucking Richie—what went wrong? You didn't say goodbye to him, and it was killing you. It was killing all of you. “Do they know who did it?”

“Not yet,” Wayne cleared his throat. “There's not much information—They found him lying next to his girlfriend.”

“Amber?” You frowned, and he nodded. Shit. “I'm so sorry.”

He quietly thanked you, but Nicole, Ethan's mother, rudely looked away from you the second you tried to give your condolences. You didn't take offense at the gesture. She hated seeing you and Ethan together—That was one of the main reasons you couldn't allow yourself to be with him. One of your major concerns. A concern you felt slip from your fingers when his son held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze that meant the world to you.

You looked up at his eyes, and he gave you a small nod, sniffing. “We'll find out what happened.” you promised, hoping to comfort him.

“I don't think that'll make anything better.” he admitted. You tried not to let out a strangled cry and hugged his waist again. You didn't even care about his mom right now, and neither did he as he rubbed your back.

You started distancing yourself from Ethan. But not because you didn't love him anymore—it was exactly the contrary. He wasn't okay. He couldn't sleep at night. He had night terrors— he didn't even attend his prom. Nothing was okay.

You tried to be as helpful as you could, always kissing all over his face and letting him lay on your chest while you played with his fluffy hair. You played your role as the girlfriend anyone wanted. You watched all the Star Wars movies with him, literally everything related to Marvel and DC.

You pretended not to notice the side eyes he gave you to make sure you were paying attention to the movie. Just when everything seemed right, you would find him crying, to the point he was choking on his own tears. You couldn't save him. Couldn't fix him.

Nothing was helping.

You thought maybe he needed some time. Some time to recollect his thoughts. Realize Richie was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. You got the impression you became a burden—interfering with his life path.

It was one rainy afternoon when the two of you were running back home that you planted an apologetic kiss on his quivering lips. Ethan asked for your motive, smart enough to know something was off. Why did it feel like you were apologizing about something that hadn't happened yet, but you didn't say a word.

You stopped seeing Ethan so oftenly. You would say no when he asked you out, look away when your eyes met and make up an excuse of why you had to stop every time he kissed you for too long.

You believed it was four months before he asked you to meet up with him at the porch of your house, giving you a red rose before confessing he was dumping you. He looked aggrieved, but you could literally see the redness of his eyes and hear his trembling voice before he walked away.

So you moved on. Tried to. Visiting Quinn at home became uncomfortable. The piercing stares Ethan would give you every time he came downstairs to get something from the kitchen or pick up the mail.

He confronted you. Out of nowhere. When no one was home and your best friend asked you to get her laptop from her room. He was raising his voice, and you were too. But it was agonizing to yell at the person you loved and pretend like you weren't suppressing the urge to kiss him right there and tell him everything would be okay, as long as he let you protect him.

It shouldn't have surprised you. You didn't know why your heart was aching so badly. Your hands shook, the blood on your palms slowly leaking down to the dead body in front of you. It was taking every fiber in your being to not cry and maintain your strong appearance. But maybe it was too late for that. Your knees had already faltered and made you fall next to Johnny, your now deceased ex-boyfriend.

'What the fuck were you thinking!?” You turned to look at an angry looking Ethan standing behind you. He wheezed as you hit his chest with the sides of your fists over and over again. You started sobbing, staining his white hoodie with blood. “He didn't have anything to do with us! Why did you do that to him!?'”

You were dragging him backwards, but he wasn't saying a word. He was letting you vent—you weren't even hitting him that hard. You wish you weren't such a fucking softie to actually beat the shit out of him. "I'm sorry I have feelings, Y/N." He grumbled. "I'm sorry I had to look for a way to feel better."

"By killing him!?" You cried out, pushing him onto the wall behind him with all your strength. Ethan placed his arm over his stomach, choking out a breath. That did hurt him.

"He was getting in my way." He muttered.

"And!? You're the one who broke up with me! You! It was you!"

"And you're the one who stopped having feelings for me!" He raised his wavering voice, looking down at you with hatred. "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I felt like ripping my fucking heart out when I saw you with him. You weren't supposed to find out, okay? I wouldn't do that to you. I had no idea you were going to show up right now."

You stared at him in disbelief, feeling your heart break. You had an extra pair of keys to Johnny's house. You were looking for him for the party he was taking you to when you found… this. A gasping Ethan gripping one of Richie's knives. You took a step back, leaving him against the wall. He didn't move from that spot, breathing in and out almost violently. "We weren't dating, you know? He became my friend after we broke up two years ago, and I only started coming to his house because I wasn't feeling alright and needed someone to talk to. I can't even talk to Quinn anymore because you're up my ass all day."

Ethan snuffled, throwing his hoodie aside after he took it off. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Realize you were fucking wrong.” You spat. "And this?" You pointed at Johnny, swallowing the knot in your throat. "This little fucking stunt you tried to pull? Just gives me a reason to leave our relationship the way it is right now."

"And that's it?" He inquired, a sarcastic smile dancing across his mouth. "You're never giving me a second chance because I killed your little friend?”

"Friend, Ethan. Friend. That's the key word of that sentence." A frown formed as you scrutinized him, eventually shaking your head in disdain. "Go fuck yourself, will you?”

Seconds. Seconds before he regretted it and you heard him call your name in a softer voice. You kept walking.

this might be a stupid thing to clarify, BUT— in case someone's curious about the timeline....

they mention in the movie that scream 5 took place one year ago, but they moved to new york six months ago. everything that happens after the kitchen scene is those six months BEFORE new york. ill give more details in the next chapter though.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ghostface #jack champion #scream vi #ethan landry angst

[satansaidnottoday]

Twinning: part 2.

Part 1

Info: Human AU, Lucifer's Mc, Mammon & GN!Mc.

Summary: Mammon helps out with preparations for the party.

Every day you make up at 3am sharp to start baking. Nonstop measuring, mixing, pipping, and decorating until it's opening time. Mondays are the only day off, the only day a week you close down the café and take time for yourself.

Yet today you're awake at 3am on a Monday, bending over a DIY starlight curtain. And for what? Some kids you barely know the name of? Pity for a man who probably makes three times more than you? You didn't even know this family two weeks ago. And still, you keep gluing strips of LED lights together. It takes about two hours to be done, but it's beautiful and completely worth it. It takes another three hours until you've finished hot gluing starts into constellations on a navy blue banner. You would hang it up behind the glittery letters that spelled out their names.

You needed to prep just one last thing before the day. You know two things about these kids, one likes constellations, and the other will finish a cupcake in a single bite. So, a space cake it is. You would make it with leftover sheets, fondant, and cream to reduce cost. Making all the decorations for free was a lot on your wallet already. You got ready to have breakfast before starting when the doorbell rang. You make your way down the stairs, expecting maybe a delivery or a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar.

Instead, you find a man with messily bleached locks and the biggest yellow-tinted sunglasses you've ever seen. You wondered how he managed to see on a cloudy day.

"Hey! What's up with the door? It won't open!" He asks, before looking you up and down. Probably surveying the glue and glitter covering your old clothes.

"We're closed today..." You say, ready to close the door on his face, until you remember where you knew him from. The one very loud teenager following Lucifer around. "Are you Lucifer's brother?"

"Ya, Mammon, remember my name next time, I'm not just someone's brother." He says, indignant. "What even happened to you anyways?"

You would feel offended if you had any energy left for that. "Your brother."

"What?" He lifts an eyebrow, and you barely see it through his glasses.

"I'm making decorations for the twins's birthday," you explain, asking yourself why you are even entraining him.

"Ah, Lucifer did say something about that. But it's like a week away, why are you doing it now?"

"Because today is my only free day," you answer, patience wearing thin. "And I still have stuff to do, so..."

"Wait, but isn't that part of your job? Decoration and shit." He looked at you with a confused face. You felt a headache building up.

"No, I just rented him the place," you said sharply and opened your mouth again to say goodbye, before he interrupted.

"Since you're already working on your free day, can I have a caramel late? With soy milk, please." He smiles.

You close the door on his face.

"Hey, wait! I'll pay for it! Don't leave me out!" You hear him scream, but you just turn around and start going upstairs. He doesn't stop at all, just screaming louder with every step you take. "I'LL HELP WITH THE DECORATIONS!" He tries again, and you stop to think about it for a moment. "COME ON! I KNOW THEM BETTER!" He did make a good point.

After some more consideration (and some more screaming), you turn back and open the door for him.

"You're unbearable." You say when he finally stops screaming.

"Unforgettable, you mean." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Does this usually work for you?"

He does a weighting motion with his hands. "Fifty-fifty."

You let out a deep sigh, starting to understand Lucifer. "I can offer café con leche and leftover cat croissants," you tell him.

"Can it be soy milk? Please," he asks, tilting his head on what you think is an attempt to look cute.

"No."

He sighs this time, with fake exasperation. He looks at you pleading. You start to close the door again.

"Okay, I'll take it!" He says, launching himself inside before you can close the door.

He, in fact, didn't have a single problem gulping down the coffee with whole milk. Nor eating three whole croissants before even speaking.

"You got a nice place, how much do you pay on rent?" Of course he started with that. No thanks, no sorry for screaming my lungs off in front of your house.

"I own it." That was your only answer.

"Shit, really? You must be loaded!"

"I'm not, I just inherited it from my grandma. I had to pour all of my life savings and get a loan to open up the café. So I'm less than wealthy, I'm in crippling debt." You take a sip of your black coffee, washing your worries down your throat.

"Damn," he said, mouth half full of croissant. "That sucks."

You nod in response.

"You looking for a roommate? I can pay rent when I get a job."

"So, you can't pay rent now?…" He shakes his head. "So you would live here for free until you get a job?" He nods. "I'll pass for now."

"That sucks too..." He doesn't stop eating to feel bad tho.

"You don't like living with your brother?" You question, taking away the empty plate of croissants.

"It's not that, I'm just tired of depending on him."

"So your plan was to depend on a total stranger instead."

"I didn't think about it like that, okay?" He leans on his hands over the table.

You laugh and his cheeks grow red.

"Whatever, let's make festoons or something." He says, trying to change the subject.

"Ah, I'm already done with decorations," you admit.

He immediately stands up from his chair. "Oh well, then I should get going so I don't mess up your schedule anymore." He said, leaning down to grab his jacket, you stop his hand mid-air, holding his wrist.

"I do need help making the party hats, though."

He lets out an exhausted moan, letting himself fall backward. You're both sitting down on the floor, surrounded by cardboard paper and glitter stars. You had a system where you cut out the hats and decorations, and then passed them to him to assemble. In an hour, he has managed to finish a total of three hats. You had nothing else to cut, so you scooted closer and started assembling yourself.

"Come on, only six to go," you encouraged him.

He begrudgingly sat up again and grabbed one of the paper sheets to roll it into a cone. "This is so boooring. And your music is all old and sad."

You refrained from answering, instead opting to make conversation.

"How are you guys liking the new neighborhood?" You ask. You really wanted to inquire more about their family dynamic, but figured you weren't close enough yet.

"It's... nicer than our last place," he says. "It's safer, you know. There's kids playing outside and shit."

You nod.

"And you have some pretty nice neighbors." He looks at you confused. "I hear they will make you coffee even if you're annoying."

He scoffs. "In exchange for physical labor!"

"Oh, come on, it's putting double-sided tape on paper stars."

"It's abusive," he retorts, yet keeps on taping the stars on.

"It's for your brothers, don't you want to give them a cute birthday?" You ask with a playful tone.

"Of course I do! What I don't understand is why YOU are so invested in this if Lucifer isn't even paying for it."

He looks at you expectantly. After a few seconds pass by and it doesn't seem like he will relent, you stop to think. He is right, you have no stakes in this. So what if the kids don't have a nice cake and personalized decorations, it doesn't affect you. And it's not like they would have nothing. A lukewarm birthday party has never killed anyone. So why even bother? You would like to pretend you didn't know the answer.

"Heeeey!" He snaps his fingers a few times. "I'm serious, why are you so invested in this?"

"Because of your brother."

"Belphegor or Beel?" He asks, looking confused.

"Lucifer..." You admit.

"What? Why? It's not his birthday."

"It's not but this matters to him," you drop the finished Ursa Minor party hat into the box with the rest.

"How do you know that?" He insists.

"Because he looks so fucking sad!" You explode on his face. He backs up a little. "Sorry..."

"What do you mean sad?..." He asks in a smaller voice than before.

You take a deep breath.

"He looks so sad whenever he can't give you guys something you want, I can tell he feels bad," you say, putting into words a thought you've had since the day you met. "I know this is important for him, so I want to help him out."

Mammon stays silent, staring holes into you. After a few moments, he grabs the hat he was working on and keeps going. You both work in silence until they are all done.

"Well, you probably should get going now that we're done," you said, standing up.

He nods and follows you downstairs to the door.

"Thanks for the help, you can come back for your late tomorrow when the café is open." You hold the door open for him.

He nods again, but stays still, thinking. Finally, he turns to you.

"Thank you…" he says. You tilt your head, confused. "For caring for him, I mean. I try to, we all try to care for each other but, you know. He's the oldest and I guess we all expect him to care for us, so it's nice to know someone cares for him."

He quickly walks away, leaving you speechless at the doorway.

Feeling decent now. I tried something new with the writing in this one. Let me know if you like it.

Thanks for reading!

#dividers by @cafekitsune #OB!HumanAU #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me nightbringer #om! shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me mammon #obey me! mammon #om! mammon #shall we date mammon

[sixhours]

Firsts - Crawl

Anna learns to crawl.

Rating: Everyone Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, fluff, fluffy baby stuff, no really this is sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting, don't forget to brush your teeth Word count: 1.3k

Notes: I promise it's just fluff this time. Sickly sweet with a dash of humor, nary an angsty cloud in sight. Joel thinks of Sarah but it's not sad.

You can also read Firsts on AO3.

~*~

The first rays of morning sun are just peeking into the living room where Ellie sits cross-legged on the floor, entertaining the household’s happiest early riser. Anna, recently fed and changed, has been whisked downstairs to give her mother a rest.

Ellie should be asleep right now, too, curled up in her bed in the garage, but sometimes the nightmares come back with a vengeance. The baby’s solid weight in her lap is a comfort.

“Good thing you’re cute, kid,” she signs as she speaks, interrupting the movement of her hands to cover a yawn.

Joel, up for an early patrol shift with Tommy, is making coffee in the kitchen, one good ear trained on his daughters’ one-sided conversation, soothed by the sounds of Ellie’s voice and Anna’s occasional coo.

When the coffee is done, he settles into the armchair across the room and waits for the caffeine to kick in. 

Ellie gently sets her down on the floor. Anna frowns immediately and turns with a soft whine of protest, reaching for her sister, rocking back and forth as she tries to get back into Ellie’s lap.

“So clingy,” she sighs, picking the baby up and plopping her back down on her legs.

“She’ll be crawlin’ any day now,” Joel says, sipping at his mug.

“You think?” Ellie looks up at him, then back at her sister with wonder. “Just think of the trouble you’ll get up to then, little crotch goblin.”

Anna giggles and pats Ellie’s mouth to feel the air of her sister’s words. A bubble of drool pops at the corner of her tiny bowed lips and Ellie wipes it away with her sleeve.

Joel winces, surveying the room with fresh eyes. He sees every sharp corner, every hard surface, every uncovered outlet. He’d forgotten about this part. They really need to start baby-proofing.

After a thought, Ellie stands and places Anna on her favorite blanket a few feet away. She steps back and sits down, then makes the sign for come here .

Anna leans forward on her hands but doesn’t make a move to go further. Instead, she finds a tassel on the blanket and grabs at it, trying to grasp it in her chubby fingers to pull it into her mouth.

“C’mon, bug,” Ellie beckons, tapping the floor to get her sister’s attention, then signing and speaking at the same time. “You can do it, kiddo.”

Joel watches, lips quirked in a smile, as Ellie continues to encourage her sister to cross the distance without much luck. After a while, he eases himself down onto the floor, setting his mug on the coffee table.

“Lemme try.”

“Think you can do better, old man?”

He shrugs. He’s pretty sure Ellie is the favorite, but he won’t tell her that.

“Tell you what,” Ellie says. “She comes to me first, you have to take my stable mucking rotation for a month.”

Joel snorts. “Yeah? And what do I get if she comes to me?”

“I’ll…do the dishes for a month.”

He shakes his head. “No deal. You’ll just eat at the caf.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll…I’ll take diaper duty whenever you ask. No whining.”

“S’a deal.”

Ellie hesitates. “You agreed to that way too fast, dude…”

“She’s on solids now,” he grins. “An’ I have a good feelin’ about this.”

“Oh, gross. Asshole.”

He ignores this and reaches out for his youngest daughter. “C’mere, li’l bug. Show us what ya got.”

Anna looks back and forth between her father and sister and flashes a gummy grin, pleased to find two of her favorite people at her level. She rocks forward, makes a soft, happy noise, and doesn’t move further.

Joel grabs the TV remote off the couch, forbidden fruit, and taps it on the floor to get her attention.

“C’mon, baby girl. You know you wanna play with this.”

“Hey, no fair, dude,” Ellie protests. “That thing is like baby crack.”

“Never said we were playin’ fair, kid.”

Ellie groans and looks around, finding a stuffed giraffe in the basket of baby toys. She holds it out with one hand and makes the sign for giraffe with the other. Anna coos and grins, waving her arms in recognition…but she doesn’t budge.

They go back and forth, each trying to tempt the baby, neither having much success, although Anna remains enraptured by the attention.

Just when Joel thinks he’s got it–Anna is on hands and knees and pointing in his direction–Charlie’s sleepy voice carries from the stairs.

“Are you playing fetch with the baby?”

Joel and Ellie exchange a look.

“She’s not a dog you guys,” Charlie sighs, stepping between them and reaching down to pick Anna up. 

“Hold on,” Joel says, stopping her with a hand to the side of her thigh. “She almost had it. She was comin’ to me.”

Ellie scoffs, “Yeah right, dude. You were about to owe me a month's worth of stable duty.”

“Joel,” Charlie says slowly. “Are you betting on our kid?”

“No!” he protests, then relents. “Maybe a little, but we’re just encouragin’ her.”

“Right,” she scoffs. She frowns, then backs up a few feet and kneels, signing, “Anna, come to Mama.”

“That ain’t right,” Joel grumbles. “Smart girl knows where her food comes from.”

Charlie shoots him a look and quotes him verbatim, mimicking his drawl.

“‘Never said we were playin’ fair.’”

“Hey, you have to make a wager if you want in,” Ellie says. “I have diapers and Joel has stables.”

“And I pushed her out of my vagina,” Charlie says dryly. “I’m exempt from extra chores.”

Ellie grimaces and fakes a gag, but doesn’t argue.

Pleased to be the literal center of attention, the baby bounces on her diapered bottom, makes a raspberry with her lips, and rocks forward on her hands again. A thread of drool escapes her chin and drops to the blanket, and she zeroes in on it, oblivious to the competition around her.

Soon the three of them have exhausted an arsenal of toys and trinkets in their efforts, and Anna is starting to lose interest. They’re so caught up in the little game that they barely register the front door opening, the thud of boots on the living room floor. The vibrations capture Anna’s attention, though, and she turns to find her Uncle Tommy frowning down at them in confusion.

“The hell–?”

They’re settled in a perfect triangle with baby Anna at the center, failed temptations scattered around in a loose circle around them, like they’ve performed some kind of sacred ritual and summoned a baby in the process.

Anna gives a little burble of delight and takes off, scooting across the floor on hands and knees like she’s been doing it her whole life. She bypasses Ellie and Joel and reaches her uncle before the rest of her stunned family can utter a word.

One chubby hand reaches out to pat Tommy’s boot, and she looks up at him with big, gray eyes. He bends down to pluck her off the floor.

“Ain’t that a fun new trick,” he smiles as she smacks his cheeks in her tiny hands and blows a raspberry in his face. “When’d you learn to crawl, li’l bug?”

#fanfic #fic recs #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #ellie williams #babyfic #baby #family fluff #fluff

[airplanned]

TotK Mini Fic

Do not read unless you’ve gotten all the memories and done the Tarry Town stuff.  For real.  Scroll on.

I’m this far into the game, so please don’t tell me more in the comments.

I’ve seen some people write angst, and--y’all--no.  This is the BEST.

Maybe it’s Rhondson’s own melancholy, but Link looks down.  He is not as excited as a man about to buy a dream home should be.  Distractedly, he stares off into the sky behind her as if searching for something, as if thinking really hard.

“So what do you think?” she chirps, trying to put enough excitement for both of them into her sales pitch. (It’s so rude of him to make her do that.  Doesn’t he realize that she’s having a hard day, sending her baby off?)

“I already have a…It’s complicated.”

“Look, I’ll give you’re a discount for all your help.  This could be your dream home!  Completely customizable!  And everyone could do with more space!”

He freezes.  He blinks rapidly a few times, and she can see the gears turn, see him come back to himself.  His face seems to light up as he finally looks her in the eye.

“How much space?”

 #

 Link’s house looks like a pagoda.  Tall and open.  He’s put some ramps on top to give a bad illusion of a slanted roof.

And…well…to each their own. That is the beauty of the Hudson Dream Home: if you can dream it, they can build it.

The first floor is a big square of normal house things. His bedroom tucked behind the stairs, a display of swords that…well, no one knows how he got swords that look untouched by decay, but there they are.  A prominent kitchen where he’ll show off that latest fruitcake he’s made for his girl. “We play this game where I try to throw bites into her mouth.”

There are piles of giant glowing scales and what look like shining monster claws. They look like they were neatly sorted at one point, but now there are just too many.   What are they? And why does it feel like they sing? For potions, he says.  And sometimes he fuses them to weapons.  

If anyone notices the tiny study he has tucked away, he gets bashful, rubbing the back of his head and saying that his girl likes quiet when she’s working.  If she ever…well, if she…he wanted to have a space ready for her.

“One time she asked if I would still love her if she turned into a wyrm.”  Then he laughs.

There are paintings. One of him and the princess and some other people all smooshed together for a group shoot.  One of Link and four glowing ghostly figures, all of them smiling.

Then there’s the one of the dragon.  It takes up the whole wall and is nearly life sized.  Link holds his slate out at arm’s length to catch his beaming face and one, giant, dragon eye framed with gold lashes.

If anyone comments on the dragon, he gets excited and says something like, “Isn’t she pretty?” or “Her face is very soft,” or “Do you see her antlers?  Aren’t they neat?”

Honestly, asking about anything Link gets up to just leads to more questions.  It’s not worth it.

The second floor is open to the air like a gazebo.  Around that, on the roof of the first floor, he’s put flower beds, which he tends with care, frowning over journals and botany books.  After a few weeks, the flower bloom, lighting up at night with a blue-white light you can see from Tarry Town.  Sometimes they’ll catch him carrying a bouquet.  “Bringing them to my girl.  I think I can braid them into her hair.”

As he plants his hands on his hips and surveys his construction with pride and hope, he explains, “She takes up a lot of space.  I imagine she’ll kind of…spread.”  He waves his hands a bit to express that she would presumably leave stuff everywhere.

He seems delighted by the prospect.

“If I can get her to visit, I think she’ll like this.  Yeah,” he sighs.  “She’ll like this.”

#Zelda #totk #totk sploilers #my fic

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Hey!

Your stuffs cool!

So could you possibly do a Vox X Reader where the Reader is kidnapped?

The reader would have to be like Vox's wife or partner, someone he'd not want to loose of course. You could even do an existing reader theme like Doll, Hacker, Shark, Retro or one of the others you've wrote for before got kidnapped if that helps. I just wanna see your take on Vox coming to save them.

Thanks a lot!

🌸 Anonymous!

Better of Two Evils (Be a Doll AU)

Vox x doll!reader

CW: kidnapping, murder, violence, AU typical events

Vox is mentioned in this one, but he doesn’t really show up. He’s still a bad person and his actions are alluded to, though. He doesn’t come to save you. Sorry.

As consciousness slowly seeps back into my mind, I find myself disoriented and groggy. Blinking against the harsh light filtering through the small, dingy room, I try to make sense of my surroundings. Panic grips my chest as I realize I'm not in my own bed, but rather lying on a cold, hard floor.

Memories flood back in fragments, like pieces of a nightmare that refuse to be forgotten. The last thing I remember is Vox leaving me alone at a party while he went to deal with Valentino who was upstairs, throwing a tantrum in the penthouse.

Struggling to sit up, I'm met with resistance as I realize my wrists are bound tightly behind my back. Fear claws at my throat as I tug fruitlessly at the restraints, the cold metal biting into my skin. “Fuck.” I try to call out for help, but my voice comes out as little more than a hoarse whisper.

Panic threatens to consume me as I survey the room, searching desperately for any sign of escape. The walls seem to press in on me, suffocating in their oppressive closeness. The air is stale and musty, and the silence is deafening.

But then, a sound breaks through the silence—a creak of footsteps approaching from beyond the door. My heart leaps into my throat as the door swings open. Fuck.

"Ah, you're awake," a voice purrs, sending shivers down my spine. It's a voice I recognize, from a man I’d met at one of Vox’s parties. He’d pursue me relentlessly despite Vox’s efforts to be cordial in getting him to leave me alone. I could only imagine why he’d done this to me.

My breath catches in my throat as the man steps into the room, his gaze cold and calculating. "You're probably wondering why you're here," he continues, his voice dripping with malice. "But all you need to know is that you belong to me now."

Terror courses through my veins as I realize the full extent of my predicament. I'm at the mercy of this asshole. “I can’t- I won’t- I…” I’m cut off as the man grips my face tightly, hurting me as he shuts me up.

“Be a doll and shut your pretty little mouth,” he growled. I didn’t react. He scanned my face for any sign that it had worked. When he realized it hadn’t, he let go of my face and shoved me to the ground. “Damn it! Why- I said the phrase, why the fuck didn’t it work?”

“It only-” I broke off with a cough, trying to regain any sense of dignity. It was clear now that the trigger phrase had been his only plan in making me comply. He wasn’t prepared for it to not work. “It only works when Vox says it,” I rasped, watching the man wearily.

“Oh fuck off!” He said, returning his attention to me. He took out a pocket knife and held it to my throat. “If you don’t shut that dumb bimbo mouth of yours I’ll do it for you. I’m not afraid to hurt a pretty doll like you, I know you’ll live.”

“Ha!” I began to laugh, which caused the knife to make a light scratch against my throat. He looked taken aback, giving me my opportunity to make a move. I took my arms from behind my back and shoved him away, revealing I’d undone the bindings a bit ago. They weren’t particularly well done. He was sloppy, an amateur at best. “Let me tell you something, asshole.”

“You can’t do anything to me that Vox hasn’t done first,” I said coldly, bitterly. I wiped the blood off my neck. “You think you’re smooth? You think you’re slick? There’s at least three cameras in this room alone. He knows you have me, he just wants to see how well his perfect little doll can hold up.” I glanced at one such camera and threw up the peace sign, looking very unamused. I turned my attention back to the man in front of me. He’d been trying to attack, and failing. He seemed to have forgotten the fact that Vox didn’t choose just anyone to be so close with, he chose people he knew could handle it. “I think I’m doing well. Points off for the initial panic, though.”

“You- you’re crazy!” The man said, pointing his knife at me again. His grip was loose and he was shaking. Pathetic. I snatched it from him and positioned it at his neck now, pressing it just deep enough to draw a little blood. I’d already healed my own wound. “Fuck- get off me you dumb bitch!”

“No ones going to rescue you,” I said quietly, harshly. A reminder to me more than it was to him. It was only the truth. Vox knew I could handle myself, and he didn’t care how beat up I got in the process, so long as I returned to him at some point. I hated when I got captured like this, because it was always a wake up call. A reminder that Vox didn’t actually care, I was just a toy to him. “Nobody cares enough to save you now.”

He made a noise and I slit his throat. I was tired of looking at his stupid face. I let his body drop to the ground and tossed the knife aside, a disgusted look on my face. I hated Sundays.

Bonus: doll!Reader was actually wrong. Vox panicked when he found out you’d been captured. He was going to rescue you, but he saw who had kidnapped you and decided you’d be fine. He still cares- in his twisted little way. He just can’t show that, because it’d be a weakness.

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #writing #my writing #x reader #be a doll #sorry anon

[someplace-darker]

Kinktober Day 3: Glove Kink | Din Djarin

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no y/n)

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, PWP, public sex, fingering, glove kink, is finger sucking a warning? it is now, reader is afab but no pronouns are used

Summary: Maybe you should be a little bit more subtle about how much you want Din.

A/N: hi this is the late day 3! I thought i was gonna do 3 and 4 tonight but stuff came up so 4 and 5 should be out tomorrow! Also i think this is the first Din thing i've ever written.

Din knows that your eyes linger on him when he works, whether it’s catching bounties or cleaning his blasters, your gaze tracks him with blatant yearning. He was glad that even if his helmet restricted many things in life, at least his emotions were concealed beneath the impenetrable beskar and cold vocoder. It’s not any different this time. You’re sitting in the back of some outer-rim cantina sitting across from Din as he surveys the room, eyes glued to the way the yellow lights reflect and bounce on every surface of his armor. 

Of course Din doesn’t tell you that he can see you, that his head may be turned but he’s noting each clench of your thighs, each pass of your tongue over your lips. It’s amusing to say the least, he finds it almost pathetic how you can’t seem to keep ahold of yourself in his presence. Although you’ve run out of things around you to look at and busy yourself with. You’re skilled in combat and handy with a weapon when needed, but Din does the rest, such as waiting in shadows and silence for the right moment to pounce on a target. 

Which is exactly why you’re in the rundown cantina in the first place. A tip had come in from a reliable source that the man whose puck you currently carried in your pocket frequented this place in particular. Obviously not that reliable, seeing as the two of you have been sitting here for hours without a sign of him. The light from the dual suns is dwindling, the orange glow from outside the windows turning to purples and blues. The room is starting to empty itself, everyone collectively deciding to turn in for the night and laying down their credits for the bartender before seeing themselves out.

Except for you and the Mandalorian.

“Are we leaving yet?” you question, acutely aware of how you sound like a petulant child. In reality, you’re just massively turned on and need the (semi)privacy of the razor crest. 

“No. This place doesn’t close for another hour, he could still show up,” Din replies, voice hoarse and dipped in molten heat. The same heat that occupies your body as you listen to him speak. You’re not exactly sure when it became this bad, turned into biting your hand as you fucked yourself in his bunk, watching a little closer at how his back twitches under your touch while you stitch a blade wound. 

Focusing on how his hands toss assailants around like it’s nothing.

“Okay, can I at least head back to the ship? We’ll meet there,” you try to negotiate as he tilts his head in your direction, something like a sigh leaving him. His fingers tap on the table between you, gloves flexing around his hand as it moves. 

He doesn’t answer immediately this time, his fingers stopping the rhythmic movement to instead clench into a fist, your stare still locked on his hands. Hands that you’ve thought about so many times before. Din clearing his throat snaps you out of your trance, looking up to see him leaning back against the booth, legs spread wide. 

“Tell me mesh’la,” you’re not exactly sure how, but his voice is lower now “how often do you think about my fingers wrapping around your throat?” 

Shock riddles your brain following his bluntly delivered question, the rest of your body shivering at his tone and how it drips with hunger. You glance out of the darkened corner booth you're seated in, the only people remaining are the bartender and passed out straggler on the other side. Slowly, you turn back to him. His visor reveals nothing and you wonder for a second if you imagined him saying it. Still, you lick your lips and murmur a soft “what?”

Din regards you as you squirm in your seat, turning to jerk his head to the left and pat the spot next to him. It feels as if you’re moving through the thickest water in the galaxy when you start to shift and push yourself around to his side, not looking away from him even when your knee bumps into his as you settle. The cool leather of his glove brushes against your cheek, curving down to cradle the line of your jaw. “I want you to tell me how much you think about me when you’re two fingers deep into your own cunt,” he speaks again, this time slower. 

He watches the realization dawn over your pretty face, gloved thumb pressing gently against the plush cushions of your lips. “You can hear me?” you whisper, clenching your thighs once more, except this time he’s close enough to feel it. “Usually you think I’m sleeping,” he confirms, watching your spit coat the tip of his thumb when your mouth parts just the slightest.

How long has he known?

Lifting his arm, Din moves it to rest on the back of the booth, turning his body to keep his other hand on your face. Your tongue darts out to brush against the tip of his glove, moaning quietly when he allows you to lower your head and suck on the digit. “Do you want me to make you feel good, honey?” Din sounds like he’s teetering on the edge of restraint, voice more strained than before. 

You shouldn’t, you know there’s still people in the building, but all your brain can focus on is the ragged rise and fall of the mandalorian’s chest. 

And fuck, you really are tired of not knowing what it’s like. 

Pulling your head back and off his finger, you nod frantically “yes, Din, please.” Almost instantly he’s pushing his index and middle fingers past your lips once more, grunting when you circle them with your tongue. Once they’re covered in your spit he pulls them out with a soft pop, dragging them down your cloth covered torso before pushing past the waistband of your trousers and curling them into you. The back of your head blooms with a sharp pain when you throw it back against his beskar covered arm, pleasure quickly covering the pain when he pumps them once, then twice. 

Fuck, he didn’t even bother taking the gloves off, yet somehow it makes it better. The mere acknowledgment that he’s finger fucking you with his gloves still on is enough to make your cunt flutter around him. “Come on, I know you’re close. You practically rode the booth for the last few hours,” his voice is strained, a lilting tease playing at the tip of his tongue and it makes you laugh breathily. The laugh quickly morphs into a whine, brows furrowing as you turn your face against his arm, condensation forming on the cold metal. 

He curls his fingers inside you repeatedly, adjusting his wrist so his thumb can find your clit and press circles into it. “Feels so good, wanted you for so long, fuck Din,” he hushes you gently, still aware of your location and missing bartender. Hips pressing down into his hand you start a rhythm, rocking into his hand like you’ve been hit with the strongest aphrodisiac in the galaxy. 

Din’s silent now, entirely honed in on you now, watching as your back arches and you come with a shuddering cry. He presses the head of his helmet to your temple, slowing the movement of his fingers until you stop shaking. “Good, cyare,” he pulls his hand from your bottoms and taps your cheek, cock throbbing in his pants when your jaw relaxes and allows his fingers in. You pull back and grin, eyes hooded and pupils blown.

“That was much better than anything I thought of,” you say, voice wavering.

Din is about to answer but stops when the hiss of a door sounds out. “What’s wrong?” you whisper, head clearing enough to reach down for your blaster.

“I think we have company.”

#kinktober #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin #star wars fic

[wrrrenff]

Breaking The Ice: Chapter 2

Attack on Titan / Shingeki No Kyojin Levi Ackerman x F! reader Synopsis: You couldn't stop thinking about your hook up with Levi. But it seems like he'd forgotten all about it. You decide to clear your mind at the cafe around the corner

It’s been two weeks since your little fling with Levi. You found yourself often thinking back to that day, how good he made you feel. Maybe he was doing the same. Maybe not, considering he hasn’t texted you at all since giving him your number after the sexcapade. Though you tried not to, it was hard not to dwell on it. He seemed to like it and like you. Did you read it wrong? Your head was starting to hurt from thinking too much. So you decided you needed to distract yourself. 

You layed in bed and considered doing some work on your computer but figured you’d be too distracted at home. With a huff, you got up from your bed and grabbed your bag and your laptop. You needed to get some work done so why not get it done go to the coffee shop around the corner to do it! You could use some liquid pep right about now. Opening your bedroom door on your way to leave the house you spot your roommate watching TV in the living room. 

“Hey I’m headed out for a bit.” You waited for a response but your roommate, Jean, was too into whatever show. He waved his hand at you and made a noncommittal sound. With that, you were off. You considered driving to the coffee shop before remembering how bad the parking was. So, you decided to walk instead. It was nice outside so it wasn’t an unbearable trek. 

Walking into the cafe, you’re instantly hit with the smell of fresh roasted coffee and your mood immediately gets better. You surveyed the cafe and noticed it wasn’t busy at all. Just 3 other patrons scattered across the tables. Walking up to the counter you noticed Hitch was the barista working today. She always knew what you wanted before you even ordered, much like today.

“Y/n! Let me guess…” She put a finger up to her chin. “You want an iced latte and a croissant?” You contemplated for a moment before deciding that sounded good. “I don’t understand how you can always know what I want.” Hitch chuckled a bit before waving her hands around like she was about to cast a spell “Must be my psychic abilities!” You laughed and paid for your items before taking a seat at the small table in the back corner while waiting for it all to be ready.

A few minutes went by setting up your computer and hooking it up to  the wifi before your food and drink came out. You opened one of  the documents you needed to work on. ‘I love being able to work from anywhere’ you thought as you took in your surroundings. Troubling thoughts of Levi no longer plaguing you. You needed this. 

You took a sip of your drink and looked out the window by your table for a moment, just getting lost in the world outside.

.

.

“Don’t space out too much. Someone could have stolen your stuff.” You jump a bit at the sudden voice, sounding awfully familiar. You turned your head to see who spoke, but before your brain could register anything, they spoke again. “Long time, no see y/n.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head and you choked on your drink a bit. “L-Levi! What are you doing here?” As you try to collect yourself, Levi takes a seat next to you. “What, I can’t go out and get something to drink?” he said sarcastically and nudged your leg with his. You huffed and nudged him back. You weren’t sure what else to say to the man. He basically ghosted you and just when you’re trying to clear your mind of him, he comes waltzing back in your head. So, you decide to just start back on your work and give him the cold shoulder.

The dark haired man either didn’t care that you brushed him off or didn’t notice your suddenly frosty demeanor. Instead he took this moment to observe you. It had been a while since you two were together after all. And last time, he was focused on more… pressing matters. Taking a sip of his drink he looked you over. You were very put together, although he noticed this fire in your eyes. What was that fire for, however? Was it for him? For your work? He decided not to dwell on it at the moment.

Instead, he decided he wanted to see just what was keeping you so busy right now. Subtly, he leaned closer to you, looking over your shoulder at your screen. The act definitely did not go unnoticed by you. In fact, it sent shivers down your spine, but you chose to stay quiet. As Levi looked at your screen, squinting at the mumbo jumbo on your screen. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at exactly but it seemed really professional. He was quite impressed actually, that someone as young as you was doing work like that. 

He started taking another sip of his drink, trying to think of what to ask about your job before his thoughts were interrupted by muffled laughter. He looked at you, head tilted, stoney gaze, and a quirked eyebrow. ‘Damn he looks good’ The thought appeared but you quickly moved past it. “Why are you drinking your coffee like that?” Levi’s face contorted into defensive confusion. “First of all, tea, not coffee. Second of all, drinking it like what?” You laughed a little louder now while explaining. “Like this!” You mimicked the way he was holding the mug by the rim with his wrist pointed out. He looked from you to his hand and back to you. “This is how I’ve always held my tea. The one time I tried to hold the mug by the handle, it snapped. Never held it like that again.” Looking at his deadpan face, it was taking all of your will power to hold in your laugh at how serious he was about it. 

Deciding to move on from what was apparently a touchy subject for the man, you shrugged and went back to your work. “So what is it you’re doing anyways?” Levi gestured to the screen with his mug. Even though it was really tough to stay mad at him, you decided to still act stiff. “Just working.” Levi scoffed. “Working on?” He tried. “Stuff.” You kept your eyes glued to your screen. With a sigh, Levi put down his mug and faced you. You felt his eyes on you but stayed strong. That is, until he took hold of your chair and turned you towards him, forcing you to lock eyes with the older man.

“Okay, spill it. What's up with you?” You are trying to act oblivious. “I don’t know what you mean?” He really didn’t want to deal with this right now. You were acting like a kid. But something inside him kept him from walking away from you. “Why are you ignoring me?” You wanted to laugh. He wanted to know why you’re ignoring him?? After two weeks with not even a hello from him? “I just think it’s funny you say that when you’ve been doing the same.” Levi was confused again. “What do you mean?” You rolled your eyes. “Two weeks of radio silence?” You accentuated your point by picking up your phone and shaking it a bit. Levi’s confusion intensified at that. “I have texted you. A few times, actually.” 

Now it was your turn to look confused. Wordlessly, Levi pulled out his phone and showed you his text chain with you. All texts from his gone unread. You shook your head. “This can’t be right.” You pulled up your text history and showed him there was no evidence of him reaching out. The man’s eyebrows scrunched at this. “You gave me the right number, didn’t you?” You let out a dramatic laugh. Did he think you were an idiot? Who wouldn’t know their own phone number? “Yes, of course I did! Here, see-” As you pulled up your contact info in his phone and scanned it, you realized you had accidentally mistyped the last digit.  Your stomach sank. Deflated, you avoided eye contact. You tried to change the number to the correct number without him noticing.  “It was wrong, wasn’t it?” Levi deadpanned. Shit. He caught you. Still avoiding eye contact, you nodded. You couldn't believe that the reason for his avoidance, all of the sad feelings you felt thinking he wasn’t interested in you, were all because you were dumb and didn’t double check that you gave him the right number. You wanted to crawl under a rock right now. 

“That explains a lot actually.” He sighed and finished up his tea. He then put his hand on your arm and rubbed comforting circles in it. “Listen, why don’t we just pretend that didn’t happen and start fresh, okay?” You stared at him in awe for a moment. You can’t believe after all the dramatics you just pulled, he still wanted to do this, whatever ‘this’ was, with you. You gulped. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Levi pet your head then fiddled with his phone before slowly leaning up right to your face. Your face heated. Was he going to kiss you? You closed your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours when instead you heard him in your ear whispering “Check your phone.” with a dark, mischievous tone before getting up and leaving.

You watched him walk out, stunned at the events that just occurred. It was like emotional whiplash. After the door shut behind him, you finally got the courage to look at your phone and saw a notification that read ‘1 New Message’. You opened the notification, smiling at what you saw, thankful that your adventures with Levi weren't over yet.

555-6781: 81 Sina Road at 9 tonight. Don’t be late.

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Last Chapter - Next Chapter

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing #my fanfic #ao3 writer #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #series #jean kirstein #hitch dreyse