#fucking day of my life.. but i know its impossible i know i should let it go.. i know that it lives across the fucking continent but i want

[desceros]

sometimes i think about the future symphony "i should have married you" post you made and it makes me so sad but the other night as i was falling asleep i was struck with absolute agony by the awful idea of "i should have married you" because marrying her would have made her hamato and maybe just maybe then she would have been able to become a hamato spirit. and the brothers most likely would have been able to make contact with the hamato sprits like they do in the series. and because if he married her at least he would have been able to contact her spirit. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh anyways thought i should share hope your day is going fabulously captain desceros

oh, this is awful. allow me to make it even worse :)

we’ve seen in the series that you dont actually have to have the hamato name to be ‘a hamato’ as april demonstrates. we’ve also seen varying levels of. hm. ninj-oscity? ninpo skills? from the boys. like raph and leo doing a ninja mind meld. just. just mikey.

and we’ve always seen that donnie struggles with ninpo the most.

his ninpo is mechanical. when he uses it at its most conscious level, we see it manifest as blueprints coming together. literal pieces, as if constructed with real material. when he panics or doesn’t go through this process, it’s a vague shape that isn’t as strong or as defined in purpose.

so let’s take this scenario you’ve brought to us.

viola-chan would have, unquestionably, been a hamato. and for that reason, i can definitely see her having a hamato spirit.

…..but i dont think donnie would ever be able to communicate with it.

mikey would be the most likely, since he has the strongest ninpo. but he’d be in high demand since he’s so strong, so i think it would tire him and i dont know how much time and energy he’d have to talk to anyone. not to mention the stress he’d feel when donnie would come to him like Hey Can I Talk To My Dead Girlfriend and mikey’s like…. dude i just got home from 24 hours of straight ass kicking i’m about to pass tf out.

and raph, i imagine, died not too long after viola-chan, so whether he could or not is moot.

leo. well. i dont think leo could communicate with viola-chan either. leo is rather avoidant when he feels guilty or ashamed, and (without going into too much of spoiler territory) he’d feel largely unworthy to talk to you, i think. and since we’ve seen that it takes an open heart to use the technique, it wouldn’t work.

and donnie. god. donnie would try. he would try so, so hard. he would try, hours upon hours, every free moment, banging his fists on his thighs as he’d meditate until he’d collapse. reaching out. seeking. already not as strong at this whole ninpo nonsense. unable to calm himself from the need to see you need to see you please just let me see you one last time please please please that would make it impossible to focus. he’d start thinking about tech that could bridge the gap. that’s how his ninpo works, after all. modeling his blueprint. so if he can design a machine that can talk to you. his ninpo can bring it to life.

but he doesnt exactly have a lot of time to dedicate to a personal project like that, let alone one so fucking insane in scale, so actually impossible to do. and as the time passes he grows more and more obsessed with thinking about it. yet simultaneously more and more sure it’ll never happen. i feel like his last moments, alone, bleeding, staring up at the rust-colored sky, he’d be smiling. because of course he he has some kind of death drone army set to go the moment his ninpo cuts off, and it’s one last middle finger to krang. …but also i think he’d be a little relieved. hoping his spirit will find yours and lavi’s.

(do they? who knows. no more hamato exist in that timeline to find out.)

#ask tag #symphony tag #symphony meta

[imma-potatoo]

.

#the moment when you realize that you've fallen in love with someone that you shouldnt have fallen in love with... I really shouldn't have.. #but.. anytime it says anything i get lightheaded.. anytime it laughs i cant feel myself.. anytime it does anything i can't help but melt #into myself because i cant stop thinking about making their tall ass lean down so i can kiss em and finally melt into what I'm pretty sure #would be pure fucking heaven... I've fallen in love... god damn it I've fallen in love.. and the thing that hurts and the thing that makes #my chest heavy is that i know that it would NEVER reciprocate... it doesn't feel the same..who fucking could? my exes fucked up my head i #think... but god damn it when I'm talking to em? i can't feel my self hatred... when it says I'm pretty or a gremlin or that I'm evil my #mind fucking soars.. i feel so warm and happy and blush goes across my cheeks and damn it i know its dumb and i know ey doesn't like me #that way but i want em too... i want em to kiss me and hold my hand and cuddle me and hold me close and i want to wake up next to em every #fucking day of my life.. but i know its impossible i know i should let it go.. i know that it lives across the fucking continent but i want #it so badly... i want to love em forever... we tell eachother that we love eachother every night but it can't be romantic.. sure ey's #aroflux and i know it has a crush on someone but it can't be me.. it would never be me.. im dorky and weird and ugly and everything i do #fucks up... it could never ever fucking love me... but damn i want it too... which is selfish yea.. its selfish and fucking horrible of me #to be venting here because i know no one will see or care.. i know it won't read this.. but damn it I've fallen in love with my best friend #and... and it doesn't love me back.. not in that way at least... it loves me platonically.. we've made amazing wonderful things together.. #i love em.. i love em so fucking much... my brain keeps making imagined scenarios that fill my head.. soft ones of how we would spend our #life together.. and.. fuck please... i love em.. #i love em more than anything.. #but i know i need to let go but i can't.. i need to let em be happy with its crush and even though i want it to be me i know its not #I'm.... i should sleep... almost 5 am.. #potatorandoms

[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

#it at least gave me the single molecule of mental energy required to force myself to eat at least one slice of bread #because it's like the physical energy is there sure but mentally I'm like 'noooooo I don't want to eat anything i hate food #all food tastes bad and i hate life and i want to eat nothing at all and furthermore i need to lose weight so i should starve myself' #I'm thinking that it might actually make me last until I either convince the crisis center that I'm for fucking real for real #or until my appointment with the school counselor. which idk when would be because i was supposed to go on the #2nd of April but i guess there might be holidays because he called me when i was atva lecture but i couldn't take it #because i had a lecture and he hasn't called since but I'm assuming #that hell call again and that he wants to let me know that the date is impossible #but I want to like wait and see what he says. and if he goes like 'oh actually im on a long vacay now goodbye forever' #or whatever I'll just go '...slay' and ride my ass to the hospital tomorrow. #show up at the crisis centre looking exactly like the patients with chronic pain who report pain 7 while looking unphased #like 'hello i am an active danger to myself I can't get out of bed most days; i need 16 hours of sleep to function for 4 hours #my meds have stopped working I haven't eaten anything but exactly 2 pancakes and a slice of bread in the past 4 days #and i exhibit a strong refusal to change this marked by thoughts present in people affected by eating disorders. no activity #feels fun anymore and they were marked by a strong sense of anxiety a few days ago but now i just feel nothing at all. #at this point I'm not even refusing to do any of my hobbies because im increasingly afraid of failure and its #consequences while being hunted for sport by anxiety from the opposite end telling me that i need to finish 50 masterpieces #immediately or nobody will ever like me again and they'll all see me for the talentless fraud i am. at this point i just don't care. #i don't do anything because i feel sluggish and my body is heavy and I'm so so tired and I'm tired of being awake and I can't think straight #also i think i might be going into a psychotic episode again.' #they're gonna tell me to get the fuck out of their faces anyway but it's worth a try. #like idk i feel like they might kinda listen because yesterday I guess they wouldn't have but today i have stopped caring about cars #and looking both ways. which is like. not a good sign probably. also yesterday i was still somewhat able to talk to people #even though i was in a very irritated and drained out state but today I'm feeling like if anyone even fucking attempts to talk to me #or if i hear any loud fucking sound at all I'm just gonna punch myself in the head until the pain drowns out all the sound

[angelltheninth]

One Inch at a Time

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time (with Miguel), size kink, cockwarming, gentle sex, nipple, cock riding, affirmation, porn without plot

Word count: 1k

Ao3

A/N: I think Miguel has a real gentle side to him when having sex cause of his size.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Miguel hissed as he watched you position yourself on top of him. Normally he would be on top but he figured since you commented on never having someone as big as him before it would be best to let you ride his cock at your own pace. He couldn’t stop his big hands from shaking as he grabbed hold of your hips, lifting you up, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and your slick dripping down on it and down his length, “Oh fuck.” His cock pulsed with need.

He couldn’t just bury himself inside of you, he needed to wait, for your sake.

“Miguel. What’s wrong? You said I could ride you.” He’d been fingering you and eating your pussy for the past hour or so, leaving it slobbering wet, “If I’m not wet enough now I don’t think I’ll ever be.” There was also his cock, with the head sticky with pre-cum, looking so tasty. You knew well how tasty he was, you spend many nights fucking your fingers and toys while he fucked your mouth, but now was finally your pussy’s turn.

Eagerness aside you knew he would be a lot for you to take, most your toys paled in comparison to his size and thickness. It was a little scary when you saw him for the first time but you sucked on his cock like your life depended on it and have only gotten better at it since.

One of your favorite ways to suck him off was while he was in his chair, your knees propped up on his shoulders and his hands holding your ass cheeks firmly, his tongue poking, licking and prodding at your pussy, your tongue vibrating against his cock from the mutual pleasure. You watched him fuck many if his toys from the videos you sent each other too, imagining it was your pussy instead. “Gonna fuck you just like this sweetheart, just like this.” Miguel would promise as he would unload into the toy, showing you how much flowed out after.

“I did say that, and you can ride me. I... don’t want to see you hurt yourself. I know I’m a lot and there no need to take all of me.” He was always mindful of his larger size in comparison to you. The fact that he could toss you around like a ragdoll, or use you like a fuckdoll in this case made him mind go places he was scared to bring you along for. “If I hurt you... I wouldn’t forgive myself. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.”

“And when have you denied me my pleasure, Miguel? Did I ever tell you I was unhappy with your performance? Were you with mine?” You teased as you tried to break free from his hands, only riling him up further.

“You know I’m happy. Promise me to go slow.” This felt like something you should be asking him, he’s the one with the massive cock. When you smiled and nodded, batting your lashes at him you felt his grip let up, not leave but ease a little. With a deep breath and an encouraging smile you stretched yourself around the tip, “You have no idea how much I want to go all in. I’ve been thinking about fucking that pussy for months now.”

Shit, you thought you could take him easier. Your dildos don’t do him justice at all, and after this you know for sure that they won’t. “I wanted your cock so many times Miguel, on so many nights. When I’d see you walk back I wanted to drop down and suck you off so bad. You drive me crazy, not having your cock drives me crazy.”

“How do you think I feel?” Miguel’s eyes roamed your body, taking in all the hickies he left so far, going all the way down to your clit, “With a body like that it’s a miracle you haven’t brought me to the brink of insanity yet. Every time I see you my cock gets hard, its impossible not to think about fucking you day and night. Although I don’t think your body can handle that.” He had such a smug aura about him as he gloated about his stamina. Cocky, for good reason too.

“You let me worry about what I can or can’t take okay? You stay hard for me hm?” Yeah, like you needed to tell him that, he had the opposite problem. “You... feel... so... good... inside... me.” With every word you sunk down a little more, your whimpering painful and a big distraction for Miguel.

“Stop if you can’t-”

“I can!” You persist, taking more before you have to stop, your pussy clamping down around his cock, your nails scratching down his abs, leaving marks you didn’t mean to leave. “S-Shit. Sorry. Let me try again.” You gave him a small smile, your body trembling above his.

Miguel bit his lip and tried to soothe you by massaging your thighs. His contact was reassuring, as was the warm way his eyes looked at you. Maybe you didn’t have to take him but you wanted to, more then anything you wanted to feel his cock fully sheathed inside you and... “Fuck! Oh my god... yes...! Finally where you belong.” You almost felt dizzy, orgasming as soon as he was inside, “N-Not yet.”

“Oh. Hey. Look at me.” You let tears of frustration run down your cheeks when he cupped your face, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m really, really proud of you okay? You’ve a good girl for me, taking me all the way like this.” Miguel beconed you closer for a sweet, comforting kiss, “Rest. My cock will stay hard for you when you’re ready to go again.”

No one had a boyfriend more understanding then you, in any universe. You snuggled against Miguel’s strong, soft chest, your walls pulsing and trembling around his cock, feeling little squirts of cum pumping inside of you but for all that Miguel didn’t move, he wasn’t tense but fully relaxed underneath you, his knees bent just a little as his hands explored your bare back, shushing an comforting you. You gave him your all, which is more then he ever dared to ask, he couldn’t be happier.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse smut #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #atsv headcanons #atsv smut #atsv miguel #miguel drabble #marvel x reader #marvel x female reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel x you #marvel smut

[kakushino]

Be my Owner

Demon pet! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader

Demons mated for life, sharing lifespan with their mates.

Tags: mild allusions to depression (reader), demon pet AU (domesticated demons), in heat, smut, nipple play, mating, dom-leaning bottom reader (i think???) Word count: 7,4k

Masterlist | My Pet Demon collab

You knew you were not well mentally; the deep hole, where your heart should be, made itself known a long time ago. What you didn’t understand was the reason you… required a pet. And it wasn’t even any pet - a dog would have sufficed, maybe - but your best friend gave you a fucking demon.

You didn’t know what you did to deserve your best friend but this was a bit… over the top. Especially now as you stared your new charge in the impossibly deep blue eyes. 

Giyuu was a serious-looking demon, long black hair a little tangled and dry, giving it a distinct spiky shape, cute dark blue horns poking out from his head. He also had dark eyebags, which was hardly surprising, given that he’d had to travel in the sun, which weakened demons a great amount. An overall gaunt appearance was what made your heart want to keep it - keep him.

Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers, though there was a movement about giving them rights by law. You supported that movement passively, but you would have to immerse yourself in it more, now that you owned a demon.

He’d been silent the entire time you and your best friend talked, not moving an inch, and he was still not saying anything when they left.

“So…” He perked up a little when you started to speak. “Uhm… When was the last time you ate?” 

Giyuu shifted on his feet, the first true response to anything that was said that day. His voice was a little raspy, though not overly deep, and it retained a soothing quality. “...three days ago.”

Your friend told you he needed to feed at least once a week, so to be safe, you had to get some meat for him. It would do you no good to starve him, what with his current appearance. “And what type of meat do you prefer?”

The question made him raise his eyebrows briefly, before they fell back into a neutral expression. It seemed not many people, if anyone at all, asked him that. “Salmon.”

You had some salmon filets in the freezer that you could let thaw in the sink for him. It was a curious choice, less… usual? You would think he’d go for more human-like meat, such as pork. Oh well, you would have to look up diet options for him. Your friend told you he was a mutt - a mixed type breed - so you would heed his preference to salmon as well.

You tried not to think how much you focused on feeding him right, when you yourself often skipped eating for days.

Your life with Giyuu settled into a new routine. 

You spread your couch for him for a few days until you could get him a true bed. He always seemed surprised by these little gestures of… human kindness you displayed for him.

The first night on the couch, he’d hardly moved from sleeping on his back; the second he was turned onto the side; by the time a week went by, he’d relaxed enough to snuggle close to the green and yellow bunny plushie you had given him.

You took to feeding him twice a week, which always made his eyebrows twitch before he dug in. Though you followed some advice you found on the demon diet, you tried to incorporate salmon as much as possible, so he could enjoy his favorite meat. You found out he was quite the messy eater, bringing a smile to your face whenever you had to gently wipe off the fish scales or other raw bits off of his cheeks.

Since his hair started to tame down a little from its tangled mess - though the baths he’d taken helped too - you thought the diet was a success.

You ordered some clothes for him. Most of them fit him, some were oversized, but all were made for comfort. Sweatpants, cotton shirts, one hoodie for when the weather became colder, some underwear and socks. You would take him shopping for a pair or two of shoes later, as he’d come bare-footed, as well as buying him more clothes that fit him properly - and also maybe jeans and a dress-shirt, for other occasions... What you received through mail would be enough for now.

The bed arrived. Your flat wasn’t that big, forcing you to put his bed in the living room corner instead of his own room. You tried to give him privacy, giving him several choices of different curtains and screens - of which he’d chosen a sliding-door type screen reminiscent of shoji doors.

Taking care of Giyuu gave you a strange satisfaction. Fulfilling his needs came to you like second nature, and you always pushed through your exhaustion to do things for him you would rarely do for yourself before he came into your life. 

You started to see merit in owning him when you actually went to take a shower after not showering for three days, thinking ‘I must be stinky to him’. You changed your sheets right after that and laid in your clean bed in a fresh set of clothes with your window open to let in the evening air. It was odd. You felt better somehow, despite the two basic actions taking up the rest of your energy.

Your eyes wandered to the door which led to the living room and wondered about Giyuu’s situation. At times it felt like the two of you were two sides of the same coin. Did either of you really have a purpose in life?

Did Giyuu truly deserve to have an owner like you - struggling with basic human needs?

Probably not.

But you were all he had.

With that depressing thought, you drifted off to sleep.

Before you knew it, it was four months, nearly five, into your companionship arrangement. 

One thing you felt bad about was your hermit-type lifestyle. You worked from home as an editor, which was good for your mental health, and also for your new pet, as you were always home in case something happened. It had a bad side too though - like staying cooped up in the apartment forever. 

While you worked, you allowed Giyuu to stay in your room with you, setting up a small corner for him with a large beanbag, and a few books to read after you confirmed he was literate. At the moment, he was spread out over the chair on his back, reading through Game of Thrones for the nth time. He really seemed to like that book, perhaps you should get the next one in the series, though you never got to finish the first one, courtesy of your limited energy levels throughout the day.

Or perhaps - your thoughts flitted to the Demon Rights movement - you could see if there was a meet up somewhere nearby, so he could interact with other local demons. You remembered they sometimes did those…

You opened up your social media, the one you recently created solely to interact with the local DR group, and checked the upcoming events. It took a little bit of scrolling but you saw one that suited you. 

The Night Parade A.K.A. DR’s 13th Meet up!

It was in a park about 30 minutes away by foot, and the start was around an hour after sunset, which was perfect. The description encouraged people to bring their demon companions for much-needed socializing while the humans could see what others do to help their demons acclimate in homes and other living arrangements. 

The last sentence made your heart plummet down to your stomach.

A kindly reminder that demon companions are required to wear collars by law.

There was a link to their website which offered sustainable collars which didn’t hurt the demons while wearing it.

You saved your work and looked up more information about demon collars, immersing yourself in the vast world that was the Demon Rights site and other sources. Once you deemed yourself at least partially educated on the issue, you went back to the DR e-shop and scoured it for one you thought would be okay for your demon companion.

“Giyuu?” you glanced at him, the book he had been holding in his hand was bookmarked and closed, laying on the table you placed next to his beanbag. He’d been reading not a second ago, how was he so fast? At least he didn’t stand up as he had been prone to do the first month whenever you addressed him.

At times you wondered if he was mute, but then he surprised you by speaking with you in a low voice - which happened more often as he got comfortable. “Yes, owner?” 

“How do you feel about going outside?”

His eyebrows twitched, which you had come to interpret as excitement. You liked to think you were getting better at reading him. “Whatever you want to do, we will do, owner.”

You nodded. “Well… To go outside, you need to… wear a collar,” you said softly, looking at him and gauging his reaction. He gave away nothing. “And, well, I did my research and there were multiple options and I found one that might-” You beckoned him closer and he practically shot to your side, very nearly startling you. “Oh! Yes, do you think this one would be alright?” You scooted a little to the side with your chair, letting him lean in to see the screen. 

It was a relatively plain collar, with nichirin cord hidden in the fabric, and though the locking mechanism was very simple it abided by the law standards. There were no wisteria poison pouches nor electric shock add-ons as your ‘normal’ ‘pet shop’ might offer. The e-shop offered several color options as well.

You watched him as he read the specifications. Was it too much? Maybe you should get just a plain one for other ‘pets’ and try to disguise it as a proper collar. 

Still… it felt wrong to put a collar on Giyuu, as if he were an animal. The thought of degrading him like this made your stomach churn.

“Can I-?”

“Go ahead.”

He took the mouse and clicked on the wine red option. Giyuu stood up straight and looked at you blankly, waiting for you to understand what he meant.

Your eyes flitted between him and the screen, raising your eyebrow. “You want this one?” 

He nodded.

You supposed it was better than choosing a color for him. You quickly added it to the cart, along with a… leash. The whole situation made you feel icky.

Giyuu hovered over you for a moment longer, before you waved him off to his seat with a mutter of ‘thanks’ over your shoulder.

A deep sigh left you, and though you didn’t see, he picked up on it, observing you for a long moment.

At times he wondered if it was him who burdened you so. He knew however that the problem lay deeper inside of you than just a pet like him. He could smell it on you, the lack of certain hormones that fueled human happiness. 

And just as he could smell the lack of them, he could recognize when their levels spiked up - like when you watched him reading in his little corner, or when you saw him dozing in his bed, or enjoying his meat. He also registered that you liked to see him grooming himself, like brushing his hair (rather wrestling it into a manageable mane) and putting oils onto his horns.

His horns, and hair, had been dried out for a long while, the previous shelter not doing much to help out his problems. 

Thanks to your tender care and change of diet, he saw his water marks returning too. The one on his chest was the first to appear, the dark blue standing out against his skin. You had yet to notice.

That was the thing he prided himself in. He was not a mutt, as most people assumed. His coloring was a little unusual but he was of the Urokodaki line, Tomioka branch of Water demons. Giyuu was probably one of the last pure blood demons there were, making him stronger than others - if fed properly. And you did. You listened to him and fed him a fish-based diet for his needs.

You were the first owner who asked him about his opinion and cared about it. And that was one single fact which would make him loyal to death to you. He would gladly wear a collar with your name on it, outside and inside, with pride. 

Because he was yours, body and soul.

You had nearly forgotten about the event until your calendar gave you a notification. The package from the e-shop had arrived only two days after you ordered it, and you had yet to open it, leaving it to collect dust. The uncomfortable feeling returned. You very much did not want to put a collar on Giyuu, it had to be humiliating - for him - and the last thing you wanted to do was make him out to be some sort of beast he certainly was not.

“Uhm, so,” you started nervously. “We are going out today…”

Giyuu was looking down at you head tilted slightly, as you stood by a small package on the counter. He remained silent.

“I’m really sorry but uhm, by law you need to have a collar… when we go out,” you reminded him gently, fumbling with the package. “I didn’t want to do it but I really need to. I’m so, so sorry. I hate to do this,” you took a deep breath to calm down as you finally took the collar out. 

It appeared high quality, the color matching the picture you remembered exactly. There was a complementary tag with Giyuu’s name and your phone number engraved on it; though very standard, it still made you upset. 

You fumbled with the lock mechanism to undo it so you could slip it on him. Giyuu kindly lifted his hair up when you reached around his neck to fasten it. You tightened the strap only slightly so it wouldn't chafe, checking with your fingers between the material and his cool skin if it was loose enough; it was. 

Electric shocks ran down his spine when you finally touched him - for the first time. You ran a little warmer than he did, and that pleasant contrast against him made the contact all the more enticing. He could not help but close his eyes, content. 

“I’m really sorry, once again,” you mumbled, turning back to the box to take out the matching leash you ordered along with it, tears of frustration filling your eyes.

Giyuu finally said, “I don’t mind.”

His words made you freeze.

“I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.” 

The walk to the park was dark, obviously, but you somehow didn’t fear the night with Giyuu by your side… on a leash.

I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.

Why did his words not bother him at all? You were upset with yourself; did you really create an image of being possessive of him? Did he think you kept him at home because you didn’t want him to run?

The questions and emotions that followed kept swirling in your brain, even as Giyuu nearly breathed down your neck with his closeness despite giving him as much lead as you could. 

The park was closer than you thought. You weren’t the first to arrive, thank god, and you took a moment to admire the decorations, before you turned to Giyuu.

His horns gleamed in the soft light of the fairy lights that were put up by the organizers. His skin seemed to have a warm glow to it for the first time. Looking at him now, you could tell he became much healthier in your care and that made your heart squeeze. 

How cruel must his previous owners have been to him to reduce him into the wraith he had been when he came to you?

You shook your head and untucked the leash from his collar. Once on the event grounds, you were free to let the demon companions roam and socialize, and you did want Giyuu to have friends outside of you - if you could call yourself his friend at all.

You were his owner after all.

His dark blue eyes observed you for a moment, as if asking for permission or guidance.

“Giyuu, I want you to have fun with other demons here,” you told him softly, a complex mix of emotions stirring up your belly.

Giyuu could pick up on each and decipher them easily though - you were anxious, sad, yet your ‘happiness’ levels weren’t that low… It was a strange smell on you, especially with how you encouraged him to go ‘have fun’. 

But in the end, he strived to make you happy. If you wanted him to talk to others, he would do so.

You watched him walk away towards a group of demons further into the park. You had to tear your eyes away from him, lest you keep staring at him all evening. 

Though he recognized some of the demons in the gathering, one in particular nearly made him pull a face. 

Shinobu.

The butterfly demon was a menace.

And she made herself known the second she spotted him.

“Oh my, if it isn’t Giyuu. I didn’t know shelters allowed mutts to roam the streets.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight line. Shinobu wasn’t blind, she saw he had a collar, and she knew, of course she knew, that he belonged to a human now. Yet she still chose to taunt him with these untrue things.

“I’m not a mutt,” he focused on the other false information she sprouted. He knew he looked different, but he was of purer blood than her, which she had yet to sense. His face mark had still not appeared either.

She grinned, “Keep telling yourself that and you might actually believe it. Where is the poor human who’s stuck with you?”

He tensed. He was not going to share anything about you with Shinobu of all people. 

“I bet the shelter had to pay them to take you so you would stop stinking up the place.”

“That’s not true,” he told her quietly, unwilling to make a scene and ruin your evening. For you will surely come running if you found him arguing with another demon.

“Not that you were worth much in the first place. Probably had to sweeten the deal somehow…”

Only your opinion of him mattered to him. He didn’t care about Shinobu’s grandstanding… but should she take your name into her mouth, he would surely not hold himself back.

“What, did you spread your legs for your owner to take you?”

“That is a false assumption, Miss Demon, and I would kindly suggest you shut up about things you know nothing about.”

Giyuu turned slightly towards you, not letting Shinobu out of his sight in case she tried something. His heart beat fast.

“Ara ara~ did I hit a nerve? My apologies~” Shinobu’s smile was empty of any emotion, yet it was obvious she felt she was right with her assumption. She checked her wrist as if she had a watch there. “It seems the time I had for you ran out. See ya~”

Watching Shinobu retreat brought Giyuu no satisfaction even as he stepped closer to you. He was tense, and he could smell your anger wafting off of you as well. 

Had you really come to his defense? He would not have let her talk badly about you, of course, but your presence and words warmed his heart. His chest feeling tight as the strong drumming of his pulse beckoned him to start a dance with you - one he was not sure he could finish just yet. Even so, his teeth ached with need.

His dark blue eyes finally met yours, an unknown emotion swirling in his stomach as he breathed in your scent. You were slowly calming down, shoulders relaxing. Oh, he felt he could purr when he realized it was his proximity that made it so, his face gaining a pleased flush hidden by the darkness of the night.

Giyuu stepped closer to you again, nearly leaning into you in a daze.

"Are you okay?" Your worried voice snapped him out of his trance.

You had defended him and now you were worried? Fuck. He wanted to show you he could protect you too, that he could care for you too, that he could provide for you too… 

"I am. I apologize for ruining your evening, owner," he tried to infuse as much of his devotion as he could into his voice, though it was not enough. It would never be enough. His brain whirled with thoughts of how he could show you how he felt for you.

You rushed to reassure him otherwise, making one of the parts inside him preen. “You didn’t ruin anything, Giyuu… What that demon said was uncalled for. If I knew who her… owner was, I’d have a talk with them.”

The situation truly made you mad. Giyuu might not have been as aware of her accusation, but you’d looked up everything the Demon Rights movement protested and felt sick at what you found. 

Demon prostitution.

Forced, of course.

You were glad he had been in the bath at the time, because your reaction had been so visible and uncontrolled you had to walk outside for a minute to breathe. 

The thought of you forcing Giyuu into that kind of thing made you feel even sicker inside as you calmed down in the cool outside air.

Your demon pressed close to you so close you could feel his reassuring warmth, his torso nearly touching your arm. You breathed in his scent and blinked slowly, lulled by his presence. 

A black haired man caught your eye. No, not man, a demon - a demon with an electric collar, one you quickly scrolled past when you saw it in the e-shop. He seemed to be snarling at another demon, a very pale blonde one, before a human woman touched his arm, speaking to him with a smile. 

You recognized the woman from the DR group - she was one of the organizers, Mrs Kamado.

You observed the interaction between the black haired demon and the organizer, realizing that the electric collar was needed for him. He seemed to have selective hearing and it was obvious that she didn’t use it heavily at all, choosing to talk him down instead… which seemed to be working.

“His name is Muzan.” 

You turned to the young man standing next to you. He had a scar on his forehead, his eyes and hair a dark color with shades of red gleaming through when the light hit him just right. “Sorry?”

“The demon is Muzan, he’s an old coot and a bit of a brat but he isn’t that bad,” he explained with a smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m Kamado Tanjiro, my parents are the ones who organized this.”

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is [Name],” you introduced yourself, fully focusing on him.

A click coming from behind you made your head snap around. Giyuu was standing there, looking away from you, seemingly uninterested in what was happening in front of him. You frowned in confusion, turning back to Tanjiro.

Even with the hiccup at the start, you counted tonight as success. After your brief introduction to Tanjiro, who you learned was an University student at the Ubuyashiki University, he showed you around, guiding you through meeting many owners and demon companions throughout the night. You didn’t meet with the female demon who bothered Giyuu again, thankfully.

You dropped your keys into a bowl by the door with a tired sigh. All the socializing drained you.

You dropped Giyuu’s leash to take off your cross-body bag before you turned to him to take off his collar. You frowned, noticing the gleam of the metal lock seemed a bit dull compared to before.

No matter, you took off the leash and reached for the mechanism.

It did not budge.

You tried again, getting the same result.

“This is strange… Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to sit on your couch so you could see the collar properly in the light of your living room. 

The metal was scratched - badly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Was there a physical fight between Giyuu and the female demon before you noticed them? How had it gotten so busted up? 

You tried to open it again and again, your attempts getting a little desperate as you tried to find a new angle.

Tears of frustration filled your eyes.

You never wanted to make Giyuu wear it. How were you going to take it off of him? It must be so insulting, being degraded into a pet. 

Fuck, you fucked up.

Pale warm hands covered yours, halting your efforts. Your eyes met his, the impossibly deep blue of Giyuu’s soul stared back at you. There was no fear, no judgment. He was looking at you kindly, as if it was not your fault, as if he wanted to reassure you. 

Your throat clogged up with emotion.

“I do not mind, owner,” he said lowly. “I don’t mind keeping it on at home.” 

You pressed your lips together in an unhappy line. “I’m sorry, Giyuu…”

His fingers grabbed your hands in a loose hold and he brought them up to his lips, nuzzling the knuckles gently with closed eyes. “Do not be, owner. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You had nothing to be sorry for, because he had been the one to destroy the mechanism. You would have never allowed him to wear the collar at home, even if he asked. He had realized that while you were putting the collar onto him, and that’s why he did it.

It worked.

He smiled when you turned away from him.

After a shower, Giyuu laid in his bed, staring at the bunny you had given him when he first came to you. The pattern had reminded him of his old friend a little, but the scent had been yours, all yours. 

It was clear to him the bunny plushie had belonged to you before you gave it to him, even if you washed it before he received it.

Now months later, your scent was gone.

But he could easily imagine it as he hugged the bunny close to his chest. He could imagine it was your body against his, warming him; your scent, the one he breathed in today, that enveloped him in comfort and… something else.

There was a strange feeling in his gut that he ignored for the moment.

Would you hug him, if he asked for it? Would you scent the bunny plushie, if he asked for it? Would you become his bunny, if he asked for it?

He quickly backpedaled. 

His bunny?

He… quite liked that. You could be his bunny, and he would be your protector, as it should be.

The feeling in his belly spread into his chest, making him feel hot in his pajamas. Giyuu was confused as to what it could be, pondering on the issue as he snuggled the bunny even closer, imagining it was you.

What had happened differently today?

You gave him the collar, you went to the park, you walked back, you tried taking off the collar…

You touched him.

His hips bucked, making his eyes snap open. He was… humping the bunny unconsciously, thinking of you. 

Though Giyuu realized it was strange to do so, he continued, fantasy overtaking his mind as he closed his eyes again. Your body, pliable and warm under him; your voice, the pretty moans it could produce; your cunt, sopping wet about to be filled with his cu-

Oh fuck.

Giyuu realized what was happening.

He’d entered his heat.

The morning came too early. 

Your clock read 10:36 AM when you groaned, knowing you won’t be able to sleep anymore. The least you could do was get up and do your hygiene, even if you didn’t feel that hungry for breakfast.

You tiptoed into the bathroom, the sight in the mirror nearly sending you back to bed. You had dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks puffy from sleep, and your hair messy. Nevertheless, you ran your hands through your hair to make it half-presentable, and brushed your teeth, checking your notifications on your phone. There was a friendship request on your social media from Tanjiro, which made you smile and quickly accept. 

By the time you were done with your teeth, you had already started up a conversation with him as he talked about the bakery his family owned. You promised to visit him, and the bakery, when you had the time.

The living room was dark, as it had been since you’d gotten Giyuu. You walked closer to check on him, the bit of light from your open bedroom door enough to see him by. 

He was snuggled with the plushie you’d given him. The cute sight brought a smile to your face, and you went to cover him back up with his blanket, when you noticed something odd. 

Giyuu was sweaty, his pajama shirt damp and his hair sticking to his face as he panted softly, noises of discontent leaving him as his brows furrowed.

You quickly stepped closer to him, sliding the shoji-like curtain along smoothly. You reached out to touch his forehead, worried.

Just as you felt the heat of his skin, his hand grabbed your wrist tightly. “Don’t,” he rasped out, his eyes opening a sliver, feverishly bright.

You frowned, “But Giyuu, you’re burning u-”

“You can’t-” he gasped when you pushed past his weak resistance and touched his sweaty forehead. Again, he tried to fight your hand on him. “You can’t touch me.” 

“What? Why can’t I?” you pulled back slightly, trying to respect his boundaries but also worried out of your mind, leaning over to look him in the eyes.

He let out a strangled sound, nearly crawling back in the bed away from you. His face was flushed a deep red as you reached for him again. “I’m in heat.” He pushed his bunny plushie against you, but you only set it aside and grabbed his wrist. “S-stop touching me, I- I can’t-” 

I can’t hold myself back, is what he wanted to say. Giyuu had wanted to say a lot of things before touching you properly. He had wanted to court you, to give you proper courting gifts and attention, to show you he could be a good mate. This unplanned heat triggered by your touch last night was throwing a stick into his plans. 

He wanted you, he needed you.

You were oblivious to his thoughts, worried out of your mind. “But isn’t the heat painful? Why don’t you take off your shirt?” You didn’t press forward but still gave him no room to escape. “I want to help you, Giyuu.”

Did you even know what you were saying? What your words were doing to him? His face flushed an even deeper red.

You misinterpreted his blush for embarrassment and your thoughts raced in circles. How could you make him more comfortable?

“Why don’t I take off my shirt too? Look,” you quickly discarded the oversized shirt you slept in, leaving you in your panties as you knelt in front of him on his bed. “Now your turn.”

Giyuu was stupefied, and pliable, as you sat him up and took off his shirt as well, making you gasp. His chest was half-covered with demon markings of deep blue imitating water in the way they flowed and centered - it was like an artist splashed him with color and left it to dry. 

Your fingers reached out to trace one such mark going over his heart, making him shiver. You glanced up at his face to check if he was alright.

Giyuu seemed to be in a trance, staring at your exposed chest. The sight made you blush as you finally realized the situation you were in.

“Can I touch you?” he asked roughly, his voice raspy.

“I- okay…” you assented in confusion.

Once he’d gained permission he nearly attacked your chest with a hunger previously unknown to you. His hands cupped your breasts and his hot tongue laved at the skin, quickly getting to one of your nipples to circle the areola. His lips closed around it, sucking it harshly, making you cry out in pain. 

“Stop!”

As if burned, Giyuu pulled back, saliva connecting your nipple and his glistening lips, a teary eyed expression on his face.

The sight hurt your heart, and you sighed, giving up. “Just be gentle, okay?”

He nodded and licked your nipple much more gently, staring you in the eyes the whole time, gauging your face for any discomfort.

There was none, the texture of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You breathed out shakily, closing your eyes as you arched your back slightly, offering him more, urging him to continue.

Giyuu hummed against your flesh, making you shiver, his thumb stroking the unattended nipple softly. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his pajama pants tightly, the slight shift of the fabric giving him enough stimulation to moan. It reminded you that there was something more stiff than your nipples.

Your hand trailed up, cupping his hardness. He bucked his hips, moaning into your chest as you started to pump his shaft through the pants, wetness gathering at the tip.

Giyuu cursed under his breath, switching to the other nipple to give them equal attention with his gentle sucking, whining when you squeezed the tip of his cock a little, his teeth grazing your breast.

You very nearly whimpered when he did that. In retaliation the hand stroking his cock grabbed the hem of his pants instead, your other hand reaching inside to stroke his length unobscured. 

Giyuu had to pull back from your breast lest he bite down as he groaned through his teeth, resting his forehead on your collarbone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin while his thumbs continued to play with your nipples. He could hardly resist leaning more into you, rising to his knees and burying his head in your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing all over you as your head fell back, giving him more access. 

He laved at your skin, kissing it, sucking on it, creating deep hickeys as he pleased, the sensation drawing low whines and moans from your throat.

Then, he bit down on your pulse point gently.

Your hold on his cock tightened, the next stroke rougher than before.

“Don-Don’t! I’m about to-!” You quickly let go. He groaned loudly, as if in pain when your hand retreated from his pants. “Please, I need-!”

Your face felt hot, his desperate state made you so turned on you didn’t know what to do with yourself, except squeeze your thighs together. “What do you need, Giyuu?”

He felt as if he wanted, no, needed to eat you up, as if you were prey and him a predator - as it should have been before demons turned into glorified pets. 

But the feeling was too other to be just hunger; it was also thirst, for the sweet sounds you made when he marked you up, for an even sweeter sound you would make when he bit you and claimed you as his own.

“T-turn over, owner. I need you,” he told you breathlessly, his voice gaining a raspier quality as he pawed at your hips, claws retracted. You’d told him you would help him, didn’t you? Well, he was asking for that help now.

The panties you wore were soaked, and you knew what exactly he wanted you to do. You knelt in front of him and took the panties off, obeying his request and turning around to offer yourself to him on your hands and knees.

There was the sound of fabric being ripped apart before his hand grabbed your ass, thumb digging in as he pulled your flesh back just enough to expose your pussy. “I’m sorry, I just- I just need you.”

Giyuu slid the tip of his cock between your pussy lips, gathering your juices and spreading his precum all over, before he finally started to push in. He let out a shaky, drawn out moan. 

The stretch burned slightly, and you could do nothing but grip the sheets under your hands and push back against him, wanting more. 

“Sh-shit-” He bottomed out, his length pushing against something that made your arms give out and you fell forward, your forearms now supporting your weight.

“Can’t help myself-” he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, a whine leaving his throat at the feeling. His hands held your hips in a bruising grip. 

Then, he set a rough and fast pace. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, like you were his fucktoy, his thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy - disharmonic, desperate. 

You clenched your eyes shut as fireworks sparked behind your eyelids as the heat built up between the two of you. Giyuu was near-painfully thick and long. Even inexperienced, his dick hit all the right places, drawing breathy moans past your lips quietly. 

He himself became non-verbal, panting and keening lowly as he tried to chase his ecstasy. He leaned forward, his right arm supporting his weight just over your shoulder, left hand snaking around to stroke your puffy clit in tight circles, completely out of rhythm with his thrusts. His lips placed open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, nibbling on the flesh and sucking hickeys, staking his claim as the knot in your belly tightened.

Then, near the height of your pleasure, you felt a pinch at the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

As if triggered, your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, making you quiver in Giyuu's tight embrace, even as he still rocked his hips against yours in frantic tight circles, keening against the bite in your shoulder. Each thrust inside sent another wave of pleasure, until you did not know when one ended and another began. You could hardly form a thought, only sounds you vaguely recognized as yours left your throat.

Warmth spilled inside of you after an erratic series of rough thrusts, his arms hugging you tightly, putting his whole weight on you.

The slight pain in your shoulder faded as Giyuu pulled back to lick the bite gently. His half-lidded eyes stared as his saliva closed the punctures, slightly discolored flesh covering the mating bite mark.

Your eyes felt heavy and you were tired, but his cock was still hard even after finishing…

"Can- can I-?" 

You closed your eyes. "Mhm, if it'll make you feel better…"

His arms let up a little, laying his forehead between your shoulder blades. "You're tired…" 

There was no use denying it. "Yes. But, doesn't it hurt?" You rolled your hips experimentally; his hands gripped your body tighter as if to stop you.

"We can stay like this… I don't mind," he said, his cock twitching. Giyuu rolled you both onto your sides, staying inside. The movement made your inner muscles spasm and he bucked his hips. "Fuck… perhaps, only a little…" 

In contrast to his pace before, he rocked into you gently and slowly, letting you feel every inch without overwhelming you.

"This okay?" he asked in a strained voice. You only hummed in response, enjoying the intimacy.

Giyuu spilled his seed twice more into you as you half-dozed in his warm embrace, letting out a high pitched whine once in a while at the overstimulation, yet he could not stop - not until you were overfilled and it was seeping out around his dick.

You must have drifted off at some point, the next thing you remembered was Giyuu kissing your shoulder gently, muttering, “Mhm, good morning… or evening.” 

You sighed out, relaxing in the warmth of his embrace. “How you feelin’?”

“Perfectly fine, or at least a little better,” he whispered, nuzzling into you.

You were sore, and the stickiness of dried sweat and cum on you started to bother you quickly. You wanted a shower. 

You tapped his arm with your finger and made to move away from him.

“No, no, don’t move yet,” his voice was strained as his cock twitched inside of you. “I won’t be able to control myself-”

You smiled tiredly and arched your back a bit, pushing your ass against him.

“Ye-es, fuck-” His hips rutted forward, muttering “Yes, yes, yes-” like a mantra, his arms tightening around you as he chased his pleasure inside of you yet again, his and your cum from before enough lubrication for what he did.

Your muscles were sore but you let him do as he pleased, his moans and heavy breathing making you feel hot all over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish but you didn’t mind, his noises bringing you a delight of its own.

Your hand came up to caress his arms gently as he fucked you, a whine leaving his throat at the tender touch, the next few thrusts sloppier and more forceful before he slammed as deep as he could with a shaky groan. Heat filled you again as he came.

You smiled widely as he panted, pulling out and making his seed spill over your thighs.

His hold became looser as he pressed soft kisses on your back and shoulders. “Sorry…”

You hummed, “There is no need to apologize. I could use a shower though, you coming with me?”

“Yes.” Giyuu opened his arms as you stood up. You were grateful your floors weren’t covered by a carpet, so any splatters his semen would make could be mopped up. 

After a long hot shower, where he made sure to knead your muscles and wash your back for you gently, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, your tummy rumbling with hunger.

Perhaps Giyuu needed some meat too? 

It was nearly two months later when you could attend another DR meetup (15th, you missed one during that time due to a deadline you nearly forgot). You’d kept in contact with Tanjiro, quickly becoming close friends as he complained about managing Muzan and you about ‘adulting’. 

You didn’t reveal the fact that you started sleeping with Giyuu. After that first night, it seemed as if a dam had broken, and he became clingy and needy for you nearly every chance he got, going as far as distracting you during work with neck kisses and warming your pussy with his cock. 

It was not all about the sex either, he started going with you when you went out to shop for groceries, no matter the time of the day, keeping close to you like a dark protector and glaring at anyone who dared to look at you wrong.

You thought it was strange but let it be. He wasn’t harming anyone so it was probably fine.

“If it isn’t [Name]!” Tanjiro greeted you with a hug, earning him a low hiss from Giyuu. Tanjiro offered him a handshake, which Giyuu took, but you could see the amount of effort he had to spend to not crush Tanjiro’s hand, making you laugh a little. It was cute how protective he was of you.

Muzan was arguing with Douma, the pale blond demon from last time, a few steps away from the Kamado family, while Nezuko tried to drag him back to the organizers. Douma was smiling as his own owner - a ginger-haired woman - hugged him from behind to pull him away. 

You spent a small while talking to each of the Kamado siblings, asking about school and such, when Muzan joined your little group.

He took one look at you and scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe you mated with that loser.”

Everything stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”

He rolled his gleaming red eyes in annoyance. “Are you stupid? Your loser of a demon, you mated with him.” Muzan shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at you down his nose.

You could only blink a few times, slowly turning to Giyuu.

“I- what?”

Giyuu had an innocently impassive look on his face, as if nothing was wrong. You could see, however, with your trained eye that there was a bright blush adorning his ears and a drop of sweat disappearing under his collar. He remained silent.

AN: I want to credit the idea for Muzan as a bratty demon of the Kamado family to @sunandflame because she was the first one who came up with it, among other ideas we brainstormed while talking about this at first.

I'm a bitch so there will be part 2 in the far future when I get the horny for it.

dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear (I love you, Rhy)

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tomioka giyuu #smut #giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu smut #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #reader insert #kakushino

[freelancearsonist]

Parts and Labor

➔ Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - 5k

➔ Eddie’s van is practically falling apart, but he doesn’t have the heart to replace it. Luckily for him, you’re willing to put in the effort to fix it—as long as he helps.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (f receiving), heavy petting, creampie, fingering, cumplay, Eddie has scars and lies about where he got them, reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader is a mechanic [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

“SHIT, FUCK!”

Eddie slams down the hood of his van, kicks the front tire as hard as he can, then winces–both at the sudden pain in his foot and at the overreaction.

“Come on baby, please,” he pleads futilely to the unresponsive engine. “I’ll give you anything, just start.”

The engine, apparently, won’t be seduced.

Eddie digs through the pocket of his low-slung jeans, finds a dime somewhere in the pile of gum wrappers and old receipts, and runs to stick the coin into the nearest payphone booth.

The garage answers on the last ring, and Eddie doesn’t even have to identify himself. They’re almost as familiar with his junker van as he is himself. They’ve wrung more money out of him for repairs than the damned thing is worth, and Eddie knows it. He knows the vehicle is on its deathbed–repeatedly resuscitated at this point–and that he should just replace it. But he can’t. Beyond fear of hurting its feelings, he’s become attached to it. He’s made memories in that stupid van. To him, replacing his ride would be like wading a huge portion of his life up and throwing it in the trash. He just won’t do it.

The garage is merciful enough to give him a ride there along with towing his poor, lifeless van. He’s not eager to spend a day in the waiting room sipping lukewarm black coffee, but he needs to be there for her. His lady is dying–waiting for news from her doctors is the least he can do.

He forgets all about his lady when you walk through the door.

You’re the Porche 944 of women. He’s never seen anything or anyone quite as breathtaking as you–with the small grease smudge on your cheek, your hair pulled back so sloppily that half of it is already fallen down, and your denim overalls unclipped on one side to show off the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt you wear underneath. You’re wiping your hands on a grease rag as you approach him and Eddie just stands in dumbfounded silence. Who are you and where have you been his entire life?

“Munson,” you greet with a slight smile. 

He almost chokes. You know his name? He knows he’s never seen you before in his life–you’re the kind of girl he could never forget. Especially with how much time he’s had to spend here.

“Having trouble getting her to start?” you continue without missing a beat. Eddie doesn’t miss the way you refer to his van, and it makes him impossibly more hooked. “Seems to be a bad ignition coil. Easy enough to fix, except your crankshaft is rusted to shit and I’m honestly surprised the whole engine hasn’t fallen apart when you hit a bump or something. Seriously, it’s dangerous to drive at this point.”

Eddie hears you, but he doesn’t comprehend a single word you’re saying. He’s hyper-fixated on the way your lips form around your words, on how you’re speaking mechanics and you actually understand what you’re saying. He’s never met anyone like you.

“But you can fix her, right?”

You smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Honestly? My professional advice is to just sell it for scrap and buy a new car.”

It’s like a smack to the face. He has to blink the shock out of his eyes while you stand there so simply, like you didn’t just tell him to kill his darling.

”What’s your unprofessional advice?”

You bite your lip, busy your hands with a grease cloth. “I could fix it. But it’ll take some time, and it’ll be expensive as hell. It would honestly be cheaper to buy new.”

”I’ll pay for the fix,” he says firmly before he can consider what he’s really agreeing to. “I can’t just replace her.”

Your smile is softer when you look back up at him. “I really admire that.”

Those words shouldn’t have as much of an effect on him as they do.

”I can do the job, but not here. There’s no way my boss would let me take up a lift for as long as I need to actually do a good job, and I don’t believe in doing mediocre work. But I’ve got enough equipment at my place if you trust me?”

You’re not only saving his lady, you’re promising not to screw him like so many people have before. He’s thinking about proposing, but he keeps his cool long enough to say, “yeah. Yeah, I trust you.”

”How much do you know about cars?”

He notices a strand of hair that’s fallen down into your face, and it takes all his restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind your ear for you.

”I know enough,” he says with a modest shrug.

Your eyes shine with something that he can’t identify as you gaze up at him. “Well, if you wanna help me, I’ll only charge you for parts.”

Eddie doesn’t even need to consider. A chance to spend more time with you, and a discount on repairs? “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The first night he comes over, it’s the sticky hot of a midsummer Indiana evening. He’s in low-slung faded jeans and a baggy white tank top that shows more of his chest than should be legal. There’s so much lightly tanned skin on display that you can’t decide where to focus—much less consider the engine you’re supposed to be working on. You can’t help asking about each little spot of ink you see on his skin, curious to learn even the smallest nuisances of his personality.

He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in this podunk town since your move to Hawkins from Indianapolis. He’s goofy and aloof, charming yet awkward. He’s so gentle and sweet you can practically smell the saccharine of his words as he speaks. He’s an animated speaker—so passionate about everything he does that he puts his whole body into it. There’s a refreshing energy to him that recharges your social battery as he goes, rather than draining it like everyone else does.

By the second night of working on Eddie’s van with him, you’re close enough to call him a friend. You know what seems like every small detail about him—his favorite color, the story behind the small scar on his left knee.

By the third night, you’re fighting every instinct in your brain to keep from throwing him inside said van and having your way with him.

Especially when you deliver to him a cold glass of iced tea and he drinks it in the sluttiest possible way he can—big gulps that send the condensation on the outside of the glass spilling down his chin to leave little paths of wetness down his neck and chest. It’s like full-on torture.

On the fourth night, you’ve had the engine block completely disassembled and ready for the new crankshaft for a couple days. It’s hard for Eddie to see his baby gutted and torn apart this way, but he knows you’ve got the most capable hands of any mechanic he’s ever known. There’s a delicacy and attention to detail in your craft that he’s never seen before, and he’s enraptured with watching you work. He’s even more enraptured by the sticky glistening of your skin in the red-orange light of sunset every night.

There’s really no reason for him to keep meeting you every single evening—all you’re doing at this point is busywork cleaning various parts because the real work can’t be done until the new parts arrive. Both of you know it, too—but neither of you will admit it. You’ve both come to look forward to these few hours together, comfortable even though you’re both sweaty, sticky, and greasy. Suspending them at this point would be a crime.

There’s just the faintest peek of reddish light left over the horizon when the conversation lulls, but Eddie’s not ready to go quite yet. “You hear Megadeth’s touring in Indy this fall?”

”No shit?”

”No shit. Tickets are probably going fast.”

”We should get some,” you say with a cautious glance over at him. This is it—this is as grand of an invitation as you can work up the courage to make. If he can’t take the bait here, you’ll be forever casting lingering glances and praying he’ll make a more substantial move than just eyeing you up and down like you’re the finest, purest water in a parched desert.

Eddie’s heart rate skyrockets even as he’s willing himself not to read too far into your words. ”Yeah? You’d… wanna go with me?”

”Might be nice. To hang out and do something other than pretend to work on your car.”

”All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says with a look that’s far too smug for his own good on his face. 

Even though it’s a little ridiculous, his cockiness flusters you. ”Wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

”How could I not? I’ve got the girl of my dreams five feet away from me, I’d be crazy to not want to spend every second I can get with her.”

”Oh, is there someone else here?” You try to giggle and make it sound like a lighthearted joke, but it comes out far more flustered than you mean for it to.

”No. Just you.” It’s only three words, yet you’ve never heard anything more fraught with tension in your life. It’s in his dark eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands clench into fists at his side to keep from reaching for you.

All your eyes can manage to do is trace up the prominent veins in his forearms from his white-knuckled fists. If you meet his eyes, you know your resolve will disappear faster than a delicate snowflake on warm skin.

But he takes a step closer to you, and it’s too late before you can even consider stopping yourself.

His dark eyes are swirling with lust. There’s no mistaking it, no other label for it. It looks animalistic, almost dangerous. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, and you want nothing more than to find out if he will.

”You, umm… need a refill?” You gesture with your eyes to the now empty glass in his hand, then nod toward the house. It’s all the invitation he needs.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Eddie’s hands are on you. They start on your waist, effectively pinning you against the closed door and using you as an anchor to press himself as close to you as he can.

It’s eager and rushed, even a little sloppy. He kisses wet, he kisses deep. It’s like he’s trying to suck the air straight from your lungs, and you let him. Nothing has ever felt so good before.

“Christ,” he mumbles as his hot lips work their way down your neck. “Been wanting to do this for days.”

There’s a slight tremble in your hands as your fingers work their way into his curls, already nearly overwhelmed with the sensation of his mouth on your overheated skin. “Why didn’t you?”

”Didn’t wanna scare you off,” he confesses. It’s so endearing it pulls a moan from your lips.

“There’s not a lot you could do to scare me off, Eddie.” You mean it; you try to prove it by tugging him closer and slotting him between your legs. You can feel his pent up desire, hard and thick, as it presses against your core through his jeans. The feeling alone makes you ache with desire. It’s like a wave sweeps through you, cascading from head to toe and making everything in its wake prickle with unbearable want. You are molten flame, and he is the only thing that can douse your heat.

No one’s ever had such an astronomical effect on you from doing so little.

Eddie isn’t faring much better. He walks in a fog, blinded by clouding desire—especially so when your leg hitches up and around his hip to tug him harder against you. It’s like his cruise control is set, speed regulating with every incline or downward tilt—adjusting every little movement and touch to draw more breathless moans and whimpers from your parted lips.

A slight tug to his hair snaps him back into his own body, drawing a sudden clarity on the situation. He’s no longer an outsider looking in, as if an astral projection watching and criticizing his every move. Eddie is fully present and hyper-focused on one thing: making sure no other person can ever properly satisfy you again.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs over and over into your skin as he traces kisses over your exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers hook into the strap of your tank top and slide it out of place, making way for a series of open-mouthed kisses as he ensures that not an inch of your skin is neglected.

You keen at his praise and reward him with a gentle tug to his messy curls. “So are you.”

He prickles with affection at your compliment, his cheeks warming in a way that feels completely foreign to him. No one’s ever called him beautiful before—he’s really never thought it could even be applicable to him—but he feels like he could get used to it.

He asks so nicely to take your top off and you give him permission without hesitation. You can see the flash of want in his eyes as he takes in your mostly naked torso, gaze skirting around the boundary of your bra as if he’s too shy to ask again for permission to remove a garment.

You decide to put on a little show as you give him what he wants; you unhook your bra and slide the straps down your arms so achingly slowly he thinks he might combust. And then finally, gloriously, you let the fabric fall to the floor and Eddie gets his first look at your bare chest.

He gapes, open-mouthed, for longer than is frankly comfortable—to the point you’re almost about to cover yourself up again.

And then he says, “Permission to do something highly inappropriate and maybe even a little degrading?”

”Uhh… sure?”

In a flash he’s buried face first in your sternum, hands coming to cup your breasts and dramatically smother himself in your cleavage. He lets out a pleasured groan as you giggle, deft fingers lightly tugging and pinching the sensitive peaks of your nipples. He prickles with pride at the breathy gasp you emit when his mouth starts working—he turns his head to suck one hard mound between his lips and keeps up the pressure with his fingers on the other.

”Sh-shit…” you sigh and slump into his attention, arms hanging like limp ribbons by your sides. “Eddie…”

”Love the way you say my name,” he practically purrs. “So fucking pretty.”

He switches sides now, firmly dragging the flat of his tongue over your nipple before sealing his lips around it and sucking. The pure pressure of it makes you cry out, fingers tugging harshly at his curls.

”Jesus, that feels amazing,” you whine. It’s so good, but it’s not nearly enough at the same time. And it’s like he can sense it—like he’s got some kind of a psychic connection with your body. He adapts immediately to what you need, dropping to his knees to unbutton your jean shorts and deftly slip them down and off your legs. He smooths his palms against your bare thighs and lets you feel the cold kiss of his metal rings against the burning flesh there, all the while looking up at you with dark eyes that you can’t quite identify. There’s lust, sure, but something else in those chocolate orbs. Something akin to adoration—like he’s on his knees preparing to worship you.

”Can I?” Those long, thick fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and you’re nodding before he’s even finished asking.

You wish you could put the sound he lets out once he finally has you bare on vinyl to repeat over and over again. It’s somewhere between a growl and a whimper, completely heady with desire and want; need, even. The fact that he needs you like this is so overwhelming and flattering that you can barely process it. You don’t have time to, because in a moment his lips are wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking. He goes straight past gentle and into pure pressure just like he did with your nipples; as above, so below. And it’s bliss—thigh-quaking, breath-hitching, earth-shattering bliss.

All you can manage to do is scrabble for purchase against the wall his hands have you pinned to. You have to sound absolutely pathetic, but you can’t be bothered to care because you’re precariously close to coming and it’s only been a matter of minutes.

He moans, like he’s tasting the finest, most expensive and decadent cuisine he’s ever had. The sound vibrates against your pussy and travels up your spine all the way to your brain—it nests there and makes it’s home, drives you into a fuzzy state of ecstasy. And all the while that luxurious tongue is hard at work, alternating between lapping thirstily at your entrance and fluttering against your clit in a way that causes every muscle in your abdomen to contract.

Nothing should be able to feel this good—it’s so desperately close to overwhelming. Simultaneously, you would rather die than lose this feeling is it crescendos to a fever pitch.

”Let go,” he murmurs against you, and you know he’s not talking about your grip on his hair. “It’s okay. I gotcha, let go f’me.”

You’ve never fancied yourself to be the obedient type per se, but apparently your body is feeling particularly traitorous today. It takes all of three more seconds before you’re doing exactly what he said—legs trembling with the burden of your weight as you crash and burn on his tongue. You whine and beg and plead, all of it meaningless babble as he works you over and through your pleasure with that wonderful, amazing, perfect mouth of his.

You don’t even process you’re collapsing, but thankfully Eddie does and catches you with ease. There’s a cocky chuckle in his throat as he lays you down on the floor, and you would smack him for it if he hadn’t earned it. Instead, you grab him by the collar of his shirt a little rougher than mean to and drag him to your mouth, relishing in the high-pitched whine he admits at your light manhandling.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, and Eddie can’t help grinding himself hard against your thigh in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his untouched arousal. This kiss is nasty—wet, gnashing, desperate. There’s no control to it on either end.

”That good, huh?” He mutters into your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper—you can’t expect much more when you’re kissing him the way you are, grinding your thigh against his aching cock all the while. And even still, despite his obvious desperation, he manages to be cocky about how hard he made you come.

If you weren’t head over heels for this man before, you certainly are now.

You start tugging at his belt and he chuckles, only growing more sure of himself by the second.

”Wait, baby, lemme take you to bed,” he huffs over the feeling of your hand finally sliding into his jeans where he needs you most.

It makes you gasp when you finally have him in the palm of your hand. As big as he felt through his jeans, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He’s heavy, achingly thick, and you can feel the way he positively throbs in your grip.

And just as you’re about to agree and show him to your bedroom, you shake your head firmly; because as uncomfortable as this floor is going to feel and as much as your back is going to hate you for it later, you need him now. There’s no time for relocating; if he doesn’t give it to you right now, here in the middle of your living room floor, you think you might perish.

”Right here?” He hums as if he’s not affected at all while he slots himself between your legs. “On the floor? Can’t even wait thirty seconds to let me have you the right way? Dirty girl.”

It’s such a shift in dynamic; not an unwelcome one at all, certainly. But he’s been so shy and timid up until this point—always following your lead, blushing when his hand brushes against yours. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone—if he feels some pressure to perform an act or role, to hide his true personality. 

The thought makes your chest ache a little bit, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s breaking you in half. He’s so slow about it, too; barely pressing his tip into you, giving you time to adjust to every millimeter he gives you. Even still it punches the breath out of your lungs and makes your eyelids flutter at the intrusion.

”Shit.” It’s not spoken so much as whined, and suddenly you’re starkly aware of just how much you’re affecting him. You bite your lip to steady yourself so you can look up at him, and the sight alone is almost enough to unravel you. Unruly curls spill down over his shoulder and dangle in the air over you. His mouth hangs open—fast, shallow breaths make his bottom lip quiver. His pupils are so blown with desire you can barely see the warm chocolatey color of his irises.

You’re suddenly aware that in your desperation, you forgot a very important step. He’s still fully clothed—your legs rub against his t-shirt as his hands hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. You almost feel bad about it; in your haze of arousal his attention to your body has brought on, you’ve forgotten to be attentive to his. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands unconsciously come to tug at the fabric.

He chuckles but acquiesces—not before you see a flicker of hesitation pass over his face.

It takes a moment to process what you’re looking at as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side… and then your jaw drops. ”Shit, Eddie!”

He’s quick to quiet your exclamation with a heated kiss, unintentionally shoving himself that little bit deeper into your cunt. It distracts you, but only for a moment. Then you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows, trying to wrap your mind around the myriad of deep, whitish-pink scars that litter his torso.

“Eddie, what—“

“Car accident,” he lies before he can think better of it. It’s a story he’s told so many times that he’s almost starting to believe it himself. “Couple years back.”

“Jesus,” you whisper as your fingers trace over the poorly healed lines.

“I know. They’re not pretty.”

That one sentence tells you everything you need to know. “It’s not that,” he assure him. “Just… a miracle you survived something that bad.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I got lucky.”

He’s deflating a little bit, and the last thing you want him to do is lose that confidence he’s been exuding. You wrap your arms around your neck and pulls him flush against you, feeling every warm inch of his torso against yours as your tongue tangles with his.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him again. And you mean it.

He draws a gasp from your lips when he presses even closer, every inch of his body covering yours and his length shoved all the way into your needy cunt. It’s almost too much for him—the combination of your tight, wet heat around him; the adoration in your eyes as you look up at him like he’s some kind of god; your hands pulling him closer like you might evaporate if you can’t feel every inch of his body at all times. It’s a heady feeling he’s never experienced before, being wanted this badly. It nearly unravels him—especially when you start bucking your hips up to him in search of the friction you so desperately need.

He sees your need, and it pulls him back into his dutiful role. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He starts with deep, slow thrusts that nearly make you drool—you feel the drag of every single inch against your walls, every vein and ridge and contour. It’s like you’re memorizing the shape of him from the inside out.

One ringed hand slides down your hip and along the length of your thigh to hook beneath your knee, hitching your leg up as high as he comfortably can to spread you wide open for the taking.

You get barely a moment's notice as he draws himself almost all the way out. And then he slams himself back into place—deep, hard, unrelenting. He revels in the sound it draws from you, something between a cry and a plea for more; he silently vows to himself that those little pleasures sounds are going to be all you’re capable of making by the time he’s done with you.

It’s borderline violent, the way he fucks you. His thrusts are relentless and expert in a way you didn’t expect him to be. His lips hardly leave your skin, muffling his moans into hickies and bruises on your neck and chest. His hands grip hard to your body, marks blossoming beneath his fingertips.

You’ve never fallen apart so easily.

“That’s it,” he purrs into your ear as he feels your walls fluttering around him. “Don’t hold back, lemme have it. Please, baby.”

And really, it would be rude to deny him after he’s asked so nicely.

Your orgasm comes like shattered glass. The sound is the first thing you process—your moans drowning out his steady grunts. And then it’s sharp. It drives its shards into your and makes you flinch away from the sensation, so pleasurable it’s almost painful.

You’ve never come just from being fucked before. Sweet, wonderful Eddie carries on working towards his own release like he doesn’t deserve a goddamned award.

“Can I…”

But you’re already nodding, wrapping your legs around his waist and coaxing him deeper—urging him to make a home in the deepest part of you.

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice. He rocks his hips as deep as he can and then presses even closer, the head of him bruising your cervix as he falls apart. And maybe it shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the sensation of him painting your walls with rope after rope or warm, sticky release; but you’re not in the mind to psychoanalyze yourself right now. Instead you do your best to help him through it, lightly ghosting the tips of your fingers in soothing patterns on his back as he pants and shudders.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

It takes him a few minutes to summon the courage he needs to pull his softening length from your warmth, and he bites down on his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood when he sees the absolute mess that slides down the curve of your ass.

”Jesus H. Christ,” he murmurs. His fingers come to swipe up some of the combined cum before he can stop himself, pushing it back into where he’d spilled it to begin with and relishing in the moan you afford him at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your over-sensitive entrance.

He’s so thoroughly enraptured with the sight before him. Your cunt squeezing so tightly around his fingers, cum dripping, desperate to reject due to the overstimulation. And yet you take it without flinching, chest heaving, head falling back against the hardwood floor.

He swipes his thumb over your clit so lightly and yet it still makes you squeeze like a vice around him, and so he does it again. He curls his fingers in search of that spot that made you fall apart so prettily on his cock, and once he finds it he doesn’t relent. That, combined with the light pressure on your clit, is more than enough.

Your thighs tremble, caught indecisively between spreading further open for him and clamping shut on his cum-slicked hand. He watches in awe as your lips part in a silent scream, ass arching up off the floor; and then, as you come down, you have to push him away because it’s finally too much.

”Fuck,” you whimper—he coos so reassuringly as he leans down to gently kiss your lips, errant curls brushing and tickling against your cheeks.

”I know, baby,” he whispers. “God, you’re incredible. Did so good f’me.”

You have to stay still for a moment—let his sweet, gentle kisses bring you back down from the clouds. And then you’re aware of the ache in your back and the absolute puddle forming under your ass, and you push yourself up with a weak groan.

”M’sorry,” he winces in sympathy. “Bed next time, I promise.”

And really, the promise of there being a next time shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat the way it does.

You’re worried things’ll be awkward now, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Working with him now is so much more effortless. The tension isn’t as palpable—it’s a fluid thing that you move through confidently now that your feelings and his are known. He isn’t afraid to watch you anymore, awe and adoration in his eyes as you show him how to reassemble the engine block. He observes your skilled fingers at work, and he’s not afraid to tell you how fucking sexy it is to him. He’s not afraid to rest a hand on the small of your back as he stands beside you, even occasionally getting brave enough to let it slip down and cup your ass. He’s not afraid to be his goofy, adorable, manic self—it’s the best metamorphosis you’ve ever seen.

You finish working on his van finally, and he almost tears up at how well she runs now—although he definitely doesn’t let you see that.

And as worried as you were that finishing this job would feel like the end of whatever this is with Eddie, it doesn’t. You feel secure, somehow, that he’ll keep coming back—for more than just parts and labor.

THE END

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 ily lots

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[cupids-scream-queen]

-> Joker x f!reader

Prompt: size kink

Warnings: dubcon, breaking and entering, voyeurism, slight stalking, knives, blood, submissive reader, size kink, no protection (wrap it for the holidays!)

Summary: You were home from work, fucking yourself with your little vibrator. Joker always had his eye on you, and he couldn't stand watching you fuck yourself with a pathetic little bullet, now could he?

You were horny.

After the holiday rush, after the many, many rude customers, you found yourself alone, exhausted, and in need of some good fucking.

Unfortunately, you also weren't the type of girl to fuck a random guy, so you were stuck at home, in your bed, with your pretty pink vibrator. It was a soft baby pink, and although it was quiet, it was one of the best ones you'd ever owned. You had it on its lowest setting, teasing you clit as you made yourself wetter. You moaned slightly as you increased it, your clit wonderfully in pleasure as you arched your back, slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Joker was watching you out your window. He was hard in his trousers, his tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his lips as he watched as you pathetically curled around the plastic toy. It should be him, really--you were his, even if you didn't know it. He'd been watching you for a long time.

You didn't know it, of course. You were polite to a man that needed help on the street, unknowing that the man was a criminal that was one of Gotham's most wanted. Ever since, he'd been obsessed with you, needing to get closer to you at every cost. He knew everything about you, and you were none the wiser.

But watching you pleasure yourself, your pussy clenching around what should be him, made him so impossibly angry that he couldn't help it when he broke into your apartment, your moans all throughout the apartment like music to his ears.

"You ah, havin' fun there?" He asked, his arm resting against the doorframe. You looked over, your eyes wide with shock and terror as you took in the stranger in front of you. No, he wasn't a stranger--it was the Joker, clear as day, in front of you.

"Wh-What do you want?" You tried to cover yourself up, but it was no use. The damage had been done. You weren't sure how long he was there for, how much he had seen. He shamelessly stared at your body, scanning you as if he owned you.

"Well, let's see, I'd like you to stop fucking yourself with that pathetic thing," He pointed at the toy in your hand, and you looked at him like he was crazy. Well, maybe he was, but that wasn't the point.

"A-And what's it to you that I use this?" You snapped, your face red with embarrassment as he started to walk his way closer towards you. You had nothing on to protect yourself from him, and you knew he was capable of things you weren't able to fathom.

"It makes me, let's say, incredibly angry," He walked closer, his hands pressing against the mattress. You inched your feet closer to the rest of your body as you peered into his dark eyes. You couldn't find any emotion behind them, and it scared you to no end. "You should, ah, have something else inside of you, if you catch my drift."

You looked him up and down, your eyes finally settling on the bulge that was barely hidden by his purple trousers. It was bigger than anything you'd seen before, and your pussy got wetter thinking about it. You scolded yourself, trying to remind yourself that you were in a situation that was life-or-death, and that getting aroused by the Joker of all people wasn't going to help you.

"What?" You asked, innocently, as if you hadn't just heard what came out of his mouth. You weren't sure if that was the right move, his eyes glazing over and his mouth slightly ajar as he crawled farther until he was on top you, pressing you into the mattress.

"I want to fuck you," He stated, touching your face with a glove-clad hand. "And I want to make you mine."

Your mind was racing, and you could barely comprehend anything that he said. Make him yours?

"Y-You mean...?"

"Yes, yes, I want you to be my fuckdoll for tonight," Joker laughed darkly, his hands roaming your body as he pleased. You were frozen in fear, your mind telling you not to move, that if you didn't do anything he'd get bored and leave.

"W-Why?"

"I've ah, had my sights on you for a while, doll," He shifted closer to you, and you could practically smell his breath...which smelled like mint. "And let's just say that, ah, you ain't talkin' your way out of this. I want you to lay on your back and take what's gonna come to ya."

You did as you were told, laying so that your body was flush against the mattress, your naked body on full display. Joker seemed to enjoy your obedience towards him, as he pet your head mockingly with his gloved hand.

"I don't want you to talk," Joker flicked a knife out of his pocket. "Or else, ah, I might use this against ya to shut you up." As if to prove a point, he slashed at your shoulder, lightly grazing the skin with the blade. It immediately started to bleed, and your eyes pricked with pain. Your pussy was wet with arousal.

He put the knife next to your neck, and you were still as a statue, wondering what he'd do. He simply made a slight scratch, carving something into your neck. It hurt, but you didn't flinch. Afraid of what he'd do in light of defiance, you decided to do whatever he told you in order to get out of this alive. You weren't sure how patient the Joker was, and something told you that you really didn't want to find out tonight.

He then put the knife on the pillow beside you, and pressed his lips up against the wound on your neck, kissing it. His tongue lapped at the blood, and you moaned somewhere deep inside of you. You could feel his lips curl against your skin by the action, and you couldn't tell if he was upset.

He then took the toy out of your hand, turning it on to it's highest setting.

"Ya like getting fucked by this piece of shit?" He asked, shoving it into your pussy. It hurt, your pussy barely stretched out or prepped for this, and you nearly cried out in pain, your eyes beginning to drip tears onto your cheeks. Joker licked the tears up, giggling to himself as he continued to ram the toy into you, watching as you struggled to contain yourself. "You're gonna get somethin' way different tonight."

He took the toy out of you, and practically threw it against the wall, breaking it. You looked at him, your eyes wide and full of tears, only fueling him. He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you into a kiss. It was rough, teeth and tongue and teeth meeting each other. You kissed him back, your hands finding his hair and pulling him closer, moaning in his mouth. You weren't sure what was coming over you, but you suddenly needed him. You had to have him.

"Ah, ah, ah, calm yourself there, I'm in charge," He slapped you across your face. You marveled at how big his hand was compared to your face, and once you started to focus, you realized just how big he was compared to you. His hands were nearly twice the size of your own, and you realized that he had to be anywhere from one to two feet taller than you--your puny little frame nothing compared to his.

You looked at him, almost helplessly as he began to work his way around your body, poking, prodding, and slicing bits with his knife. It shouldn't have made you more horny, it shouldn't have made you more into what was happening to you...but yet, it was. You were enjoying this, and you were finding yourself anxiously awaiting what would happen next.

He started to suck at your skin, his mouth nearly fitting around half of your neck as he left a hickey and a bite mark, signifying that you were his. His little fuckdoll. His hands began groping your breasts, and you gasped as you realized his hands were just as big as your tits, if not slightly bigger. He was on top of you, his broad shoulders double yours.

"You're so fucking small and helpless," He growled into your ear, licking the tender flesh. The warmth of his breath against your ear drove you crazy, and you moaned a bit, as if asking for him to fuck you senseless. "You'll get what you deserve later. Right now, it's my turn to fuck you up."

He started by biting down your body, making sure to mark both of your collarbones with his teeth. He licked at every cut he made on your body, the sharp, metallic taste melting on his tongue. He groaned as he tasted your blood; the taste of your skin like cocaine to him.

"God, you're so perfect for me," He licked your nipple, and the bit it, eliciting a loud cry and moan from you. He grinned. Bits of his face paint were on your body, white and red stains everywhere from the grease paint. He thought of you like an art piece, his canvas, his.

He began to move his fingers down to your folds, gathering slick between his fingers. Curiously, he pulled them into his mouth, tasting all of you. He licked his lips as if finishing a good meal, and he laughed as he shoved them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. He then took his fingers away, and took his pants off, revealing his purple-and-black stripped boxers.

He slipped them off with ease, revealing his full length. His cock was far bigger than you grasped beforehand, and your mouth watered as you imagined it inside of you, creating a bulge inside of you. Your thoughts were halted as he shoved his fingers inside of you, three at once. His fingers were thick, and you cried out in pain, which earned you a slap across the face again.

"Ah, ah, pet," He wagged his tongue at you. "No crying." You moaned, and he nodded. "That's what I like to hear."

He began to fuck you with his fingers, spreading your pussy open for him. He was quick with the work; as soon as he figured you could take it, he took his fingers out of you, and shoved them in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself again.

He lined himself up with your entrance, his large hands on either side of your hips as he pushed the head of his cock in your pussy, stretching you farther than his fingers. Your eyes filled with tears, a few rolling down your cheeks and falling onto the bites on your collarbone.

He pushed in farther, half of his cock in you and he placed a hand on your abdomen, feeling himself fill you up. You were so much smaller than he was, and he was crazy about it. He then suddenly pushed all the way in; your abdomen had a visible bulge.

"Look at how little ya are, pet," He growled, slapping the bulge. You gasped, moaning as you felt his hand collide with your skin. He grinned, his cock stretching and filling you more than you could even dream of. He was so much bigger than you. He was dangerous, he could break you with one wrong move. You were a porcelain fucktoy, and both of you knew it.

"I'm gonna fuck you like an animal," The Joker practically growled, thrusting into you. Your eyes glossy with tears, your stomach bulging from his cock being so endlessly big made him go mad with desire.

"Y-Yes, p-please," You gasp out, shuttering as Joker thrust into you roughly.

"Don't. Talk. Shut your mouth before I fuck it," He threatened, grabbing the knife he previously discarded and held it threateningly against the skin of your breast. It was not more than a mere threat; the blade slashing through your skin lightly, drawing enough blood to start dripping down, coating you in a dark mixture. "Ain't that a pretty sight?"

You nodded, arching to meet his thrusts, as he penetrated into every inch of your being. You only needed him—you sold your soul to the devil, and now he was getting his end of the contract. He smirked accordingly, his thrusts beginning to get longer and more drawn out, filling you completely and then leaving you empty within the same breath.

"Ah, you're so good against me, do you feel that?" He pressed your hand against your stomach, and your eyes widened. You could feel every time his cock entered your body, truly stretching and filling you to your limits. "That's all me, doll."

You whimpered in response, and he elicited a moan from you when he bucked his hips to thrust deeper into you, if that was even possible. Though you were lost in the pleasure, Joker was meticulously marking you up as his, carving his initials into you wherever he pleased--including on your neck, where everyone could see who, exactly, you belonged to. The Joker's girl.

"Fuck, yer so tight," He grunted, your pussy clenching around his dick, begging to not have him leave. You moaned around him, your body behaving in ways you never thought possible. Joker took your body in with every bit of hunger--his eyes like a predator's as he took in how vulnerable and slutty you were for him. Just for him.

"I'm close now, and you're gonna be filled with my cum," Joker forced you to look at him, a hand on your face roughly. "I want you to remember this moment, pet. As of now, you belong to nobody, except for me." You nodded your head, your brain too fucked to even care about what you'd agreed to. You needed the release, your orgasm quickly appearing as Joker continued to thrust into you. He sensed this, your pussy clenching on him harder in anticipation, and he snuck his hand away from your face to circle your clit harshly, drawing even deeper moans from you.

He pushed on your clit, the sudden pain mixed with pleasure doing it and you came on his cock, your pussy clenching around him even harder as you rode out your orgasm, his hand never leaving your clit nor his thrusts slowing down. No, he was going to fuck you until he came.

He continued to thrust, his warning mere seconds ago of being close a forgotten promise as he continued to thrust farther into your body, fucking you as much as he could before he felt himself reach his limit. He came with a string of curse words, his body rumbling on top of you as he filled you, completely, with his hot, sticky cum. You felt even more full, his dick filling you to an even fuller extent. You felt your abdomen expand again, struggling to fit all of his seed inside of you.

"What a pretty little fuckdoll you are," He mused, groaning as he slid out of you. He pushed the leaking cum back inside of you. "Don't waste a single drop of that stuff, it's potent." He warned, and when he was done pushing it back inside of you, he had you lick his fingers clean. You tasted his cum, a salty, strangely sweet mixture that sat heavy on your tongue.

"W-What now?" You asked, your voice quiet. You weren't sure if you were allowed to speak yet--but you were well spent and Joker was clearly in a better mood than when he found you.

"Now, doll, you stay there and I leave," He got off of you, leaving you whimpering as you missed the heat from him. He got back into his clothing, and grabbed grease paint out of his jacket. "Ya got a bathroom?"

"Right there," You pointed to a doorway, and he went inside. Coming out, he had a fresh layer of grease paint on, and nobody could tell what had transpired between the two of you. At least, just by looking at him.

He laughed at you one last time, taking a polaroid of you for later. He blew you a kiss before storming out of your apartment, leaving you naked, cold, and alone in your bedroom.

Shaking, you gathered yourself up after a few minutes, and made your way to your bathroom. You could feel the seed spilling out of you, drenching your thigh. You saw yourself in the mirror, Joker's initial on your neck, his name carved out along the lower side of your stomach. Marking him as yours, bonding you with him for the foreseeable future.

Part of you wished he'd never come back. That part of you was the sane one, the part of you that was logically and rightfully afraid of him. And, yet, a darker part of you wished he'd do that again soon, because god, he was the best fuck of your life.

Enjoy my writing? Please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog!

This is the first time writing for Joker, so apologies if it's not the best.

I might make a part two once Smutmas is over...

Part 2: ♡

#joker x reader #dc joker #ledger joker #ledger!joker #ledger!joker x reader #joker x y/n #slasherfucker #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #slasher fucker #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slasher headcanons #cupids smutmas advent calendar

[samkerrworshipper]

lost cause | leah williamson x reader

it’s a little blurb for my hurt girlies

warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts n discussions.

“Would you let me die?”

You looked deep into Leah’s eyes, the both of you trying your very hardest to fight back tears as her eyes shot open towards you. She flipped you over in your shared bed, switching you from your position as her little spoon so you were face to face with her.

“What?”

Leah’s words were laced with sleepiness, her body had been mere seconds away from sleep but your words had stopped her exhaustive haze, her eyes blinking furiously as they adjusted to the lack of light in the room, trying to gauge your facial expression.

“Would you let me die?”

Your words were murmured into the room, quiet that Leah was sure she stood a higher chance of hearing a mouse running across the floorboards then your words.

“What are you talking about?”

Leah’s voice waivered, trying to figure out exactly what you werte referring to.

“Would you?”

The conversation had been on your mind for days, the thoughts that had been humming steadily in your brain finally coming to surface in the moment.

“No shit I wouldn’t.”

Leah’s voice was as strong as it could be, her Milton Keynes accent coming on strong as she tried to decipher what exactly was playing in you brain at 3am in the morning that had led you to this point.

“Could you?”

Once again Leah struggled to understand the words and meaning of what you were saying. You’d had a impossible month, becoming the fifth arsenal player to be plagued with the acl disease. You’d had surgery two months ago, and revelry wise you were doing great, mentally you were struggling more than you ever had. Leah was working on it with you, trying her very hardest to keep you happy, to keep you alive. It was hard, there were days where you refused to leave bed, days where she found scars on your wrists that made her feel sick for not being there for you how she had to be.

“I just told you no.”

Leah’s voice held strong in the room, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the two of you breathing. It had been a rough night to some extent, you were being weaned off the pain meds and it sucked, Leah was trying her hardest but she wasn’t a doctor, nor instant pain relief.

“What if I asked you to?”

Your words hung heavy in the space between you, like a weighted medicine ball falling directly between you on the bed.

It had been a thoguht that had been at the forefront of your brain for weeks, but for you, it felt like an obligation to talk to Leah about it, to prepare her for something that was very quickly beginning to feel inevitable to you.

“Why would you ask me that?l

Leah’s hand managed to travel its way down to your stomach, her fingers clutching onto your sharp stomach muscles, the lines were strong and deft, a map across your torso.

“Do you love me enough to just let me die?”

Leah looked directly into your eyes. Did she love you to death? Did she love you to your grave? It was a question that hurt Leah from the inside out. Was it selfish of her to say no, to say that it was stupid of you to leave her for the rest of her life, when you’d promised her forever.

“I know it’s selfish but-.”

“That’s a fucked up thing to say.”

Leahs voice harshly cut you off, the older woman try her hardest to stay composed as she kept her eye contact with you, it was the only glimpse she had into your thoughts, what exactly you were feeling in this moment.

“I know and I’m sorry Lee, but I had to ask.”

Leah shook her head, no you didn’t. There was a billion worlds where you never should have had to ask, to ask permission to live, to ask permission from her about whether or not she loved you enough to let you go.

“Do you want to die?”

Leah’s words struck a deep frown onto your face, like it had been plastered on with sticky tape and glue. It looked wrong on your face, nights like these were normally spent with you being the happiest you ever were, cuddled up in the arms thay you loved more than anything in the world.

“Are you planning on dying, could you?”

There was no illness, no surgery, no life threatening circumstance that could lead to the end of your life, so it was either planned or paranoia and Leah was leaning to believe it was the first one.

“Could I die?”

Her words twisted around in your brain, your heart racing furiously against Leah’s Arsenal hoodie as you tried to digest what she was saying to you, it wasn’t a meal that was agreeing with your stomach, you could feel the word vomit rising already.

“Could you love me enough to live for me?”

The rephrasing of her words made you feel even sicker, like the nausea you got after eating lactose when you definitely were not supposed to.

“You know I love you Leah.”

Leah’s brow furrowed, because yes, she knew you loved her, you reminded her at least once a day. But what about loving her made you want to die, enough to seek permission.

“So could you live for me, it might be selfish, but please.”

Leah’s words invoked an i necessary amount of uncomfortable silence that spread out like a blanket across your shared bedroom, even the dogs lying at the base of your bed seemed to understand the memo, their snores silencing for a second whilst you and Leah just stared at eachother.

“Leah, I can’t do this anymore.”

She knew that, knew that more than anyone this acl injury had been hell for you. Her once energetic and happy girl had changed, into a person that was completely unrecognisable, it hurt her heart and soul, wondering if she’d ever get her girl back, or if that version of you had died out in the pitch with your injury.

“I know your struggling bunny, but I need you to do this for me, I need you to try. If you can’t keep yourself alive then I will fight every single day for you. Suicide is not the answer for you, you have too good of a life ahead for suicide to be your last chapter.”

Leah often reflected, often prayed that maybe, for whatever reason some things were just meant to be, even when they sucked. Maybe, just maybe, life wasn’t supposed to be easy for you. Maybe you were one of the rare few who could handle tough times and still come out on the other end as a loving person. Maybe it was all falling into place because you are a strong person, you are having this experience for the good of yourself. Maybe it’s gods twisted way of loving you, pushing you through the hard times so you can see the good in life. Maybe for you, this is growth, pain is becoming the new normal. Maybe just giving your all was enough, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Leah made up things to make her life easier.

She reached her hands up to the loose hair strands that had fallen in front of your eyes, pushing them back behind your ears so you were forced to look at her dead on.

“How bad is it bunny, is it bad enough that you can’t just try your hardest for me?”

You bit down hard on your lip, contemplating the question silently in your head as Leah awaited your response. You stayed silent for a little while, the only sign you were still alive being your eyes blinking every once a while and your chest rising steadily.

“I’ll try.”

The words were pieces, like chunks of oranges sliced up and scattered across a chopping board, and whilst Leah didn’t exactly hear them she managed to put all the pieces together in her brain.

“I love you.”

Her words came out as one big breath. To Leah, you were as important as oxygen, without you she died as well, your contagious laugh and sparkly eyes were what got her through the rough days and nights and she couldn’t even imagine what life would look like waking up without you.

“I love you more.”

Leah smiled at you gently, coaxingly, how you’d look at a injured puppy.

“You could never.”

Leah pulled your body flush against hers, her hand coming up and under your hoodie and coming to rest on top of your heart, the feeling of your organ pumping against her was pure comfort, a luxury that she allowed herself to be granted. She exhaled deeply as she felt the feeling of your blood being pumped all over your body, to your little toes and your tiny hands.

She knew life right now sucked for you, knew just how much a acl injury made you question every single part of your life, but that didn’t matter to her, what mattered was that you weee slive, and in her arms, finding solace in her gentle touches and broad body.

You intertwined your legs with hers, wrapping her warm ones around your cold ones and slowly beginning to relax against her, as your emotional revelation began to fade from your brain, your promise to Leah breaking every single thought that had been marinating in your head.

“Go to sleep bunny, I’ve got you, nobody is harming you in my arms, even yourself.”

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #i love leah williamson #golden retriever leah vibes #leah williamson is mother #leah williamson is mom #leah williamson is boyf #leah williamson imagine #leah makes me cry

[unreliablesnake]

Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #smut

[mymarifae]

every time someone says "an should have been vbs's leader" or "saki should have been leo/need's leader" i want to . slam my head through concrete. oh you missed the point so bad

1. the "leader" thing is kind of really fucking insignificant outside of where each group's story begins and promo materials. it doesn't mean one character is the "main character" of the group. project sekai doesn't HAVE a main character in the first place it's not that kind of story. each individual character is equally important to not only their group's story but the over-arching story of the whole game

2. leo/need's story begins with ichika because she is ultimately the one that brings them all back together. not saki. it is ichika's determination and frankly stubbornness that gets through to shiho and honami. like, saki was literally ready to give up on reconnecting with honami! (out of love and respect for her choices but like) if she was the focus leo/need would have been honami-less!! but ichika refuses to let it go. much like she refused to let go of their friendships throughout all of middle school.

when the story begins, we see ichika burnt out and hopeless. but that's only after years of trying and trying and trying and trying again to reconnect with shiho and later honami. this fandom does not understand ichika's character well . she's not meek and she doesn't back down easily she's not some like... fumbling "girlflop" she's incredibly driven and strong-willed. she lost some of that due to depression and isolation but as of leo/need's most recent arc ender she has pretty much regained her fiery spirit. she's leo/need's lead singer and MC for a reason

3. vivid bad squad's story opens with kohane because she's the only one who hasn't grown up/partially grown up on vivid street. if an or akito had been the "leader" we would have lost the magic of getting to know vivid street and its people and unique culture. it's all average every day life for them, but kohane is experiencing it all for the first time. it's only through her eyes that the audience can understand just how very special vivid street is

4. one more thing: you could say that the "leaders" represent the themes of each group and the general direction of their story arcs. vivid bad squad, among several other things, is all about improvement and growth and overcoming challenges and creating something new and finding a place to call home within a community. who better to represent that but the socially anxious newbie who never felt like she belongs anywhere and would never do anything with her life?

leo/need is about love and the ability to endure all hardships and preserve that love . it's about having a heart big enough to hope for the impossible and the willpower to make it reality. ichika, in all her hard-headed stubborn painfully persistent glory, is perfect for that.

similarly, mafuyu isn't nightcord's leader because nightcord is ultimately about healing. hope. finding a way to make life worth living again. these aren't paths he would have chosen on his own. he gave up on himself a long time ago. as did ena and mizuki, in their own ways. the best person to represent hope is the one who refuses to give up on anyone and stubbornly believes she can save them all

wonderlands x showtime is about moving forward to a brighter future and not letting the past keep you shackled in place. it's also about having lofty dreams and the selfishness to pursue those dreams. both of these things are why emu Isn't wxs's leader; she lacks that selfishness (i'm not using this word in a negative sense btw; i think being selfish can be a good thing. and sometimes being selfless is a bad one) tsukasa (and rui) has, and she often clings to the past.

and as far as more more jump and all their own themes of hope and never giving up go, of course their leader has to be minori. she brought three disillusioned, jaded ex-idols hope and reignited their passion! she's the walking embodiment of hope itself

#i'm going to chew on rocks #project sekai #yeah sure main tag thiswhy not

[reveluving]

you know what I just thought of? Shy wife is used to going to neighbour cookouts and gatherings alone since Graves is often away. She gets hit on quite a bit but always reminds everyone she’s very happily married (I mean haven’t they seen the rock on her finger?)

Then one day she finally shows up with Phil at one of those gatherings and he’s so confident his relationship with her, he can’t help but laugh at those guys cause he knows she only has eyes for him 😌 (he prolly proceeds to fuck her within an inch of her life lbr)

Also completely unrelated but shy wife getting a tiny discreet tattoo of his initials or their last name, and he discovers it while fucking her after getting back from a mission

-🍬

*Rubbing my hands together like a villain* I kicked my feet in the air the second I received this!!! You, my dearest, are a MASTERMIND 🙏🏼😩

Includes: brief smut at the end (minors DNI!), petnames (‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty girl’), mentions of possessive!phil, you get a lil’ tatt for him, slight humour & loads of fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Whether you’d like to imagine it while you’re Phil’s wife or fiancée, I’d like to imagine the latter more, since engagement rings tend to look more upscale than wedding bands. So imagine the immediate (but not enough) sting one would feel as soon as they boldly come up to you, hoping for a chance. It’s impossible not to acknowledge the large diamond cut around your finger, twinkling even at the smallest movements. 

It usually drives them away, but you’ll also have insistent ones, keen on making you sway while they nurse their injured pride to health.

Or even when married, no doubt Phil gets you the most out-there-looking band—why should he settle for less for any occasion, after all?

For Phil, he’d rather be caught dead in a ditch than potentially lose his actual ring on the battlefield. It’s why he has a silicone wedding band instead, personally chosen by you, thus why it’s almost as special as his main one. While he’d rather not potentially let a single scratch on his actual band, he still wants a part of you with him. Remind him of the memories you’ve made and will make every time he comes home. 

But on the other hand, it’s a possession thing.

Phil’s confidence in your relationship is just as massive as him carrying himself to the world, so the ring is more of a warning, as mentioned before, to those thinking they’d even have a grain of chance with you. He knows people take advantage of beautiful sweethearts like you because as soon as you give them a crumb of attention, you can only hope someone saves you from their infernal yapping.

The best part about it, to Phil, is that you don’t mind feeding his ego, just as he lives for them like a dog showering in its owner’s praises, because you know he achieves them all, be it his work or otherwise. But God knows if the men flirting with you were being truthful about the little stories they’ve conjured up to impress you.

Plus, you prefer Phil’s attention over theirs, absolutely no competition.

Especially when Phil finds the time (read: makes sure) to attend these cookouts.

Even if he doesn’t frequent to them as much as you do, he’s a household name. Literally. The hosts of the cookouts, Rick and his wife greet you like you’ve known each other for years; the same pair who’d save you from your demise each time they’d realize you were dragged into a one-sided or possibly uncomfortable conversation.

Phil is rare to be seen without you by his side, and none of you minded. A symbiotic system as Phil gets to flaunt you to all the desperate guys out there while playing guard dog. With unamused looks and sharp glares or even condescending smiles when they realize that he is the infamous Phillip Graves you and the hosts have been talking about. Somehow he knows which of them to send his warnings to, even if you’ve never given him their description.

"I did promise the missus I'd come one day." Phil joked with the group when Rick and his wife teased him for finally coming over, pulling you close to his side because he knew they were watching. You didn't, well, couldn't (not that you wanted to very much) spare even a second for them when your husband naturally had your attention.

And you get to seek comfort from him. Plus, it’s ten times fun with each other in these gatherings. Good food, good conversation and best of all, good company.

Now, tattoos. Ah, tattoos.

I imagine you’ve been considering one for a while and without his knowledge. Only because you know he’d be nosey enough to be able to draw an answer out of you. It takes a bit of time though, largely due to the commitment of it. You want one, of course, but to have one, you’ll want one that’s truly meaningful.

Should it be Graves or just G? Or should you opt for P.G. instead? What font would you want, how big would it be and where?

Even when you’ve finalised your answers, there’s a lingering bit of fear that it won’t be to your or his liking. But you’ve known the man long enough to know that so long that your heart belonged to him, cherished and cared for, you knew his heart will always belong to you too.

A small, single ‘G’ tattooed on your wrist in a flourish font. I initially thought of a finger tattoo but I heard not many artists recommend it, but that's beside the point! 

Just imagine him coming home after a tough time at work, pent-up until he has his wife underneath him. He only notices the ink on your wrist as his fingers interlock with yours. He slows his thrusts, but not he's stopping either.

If anything it reaches deeper into you when he realizes what the tattoo indicates.

“Pretty girl,” He purrs, pinning your wrist to brush his lips along the semi-sensitive spot. There's something about the way he carefully presses his lips to your pulse, only for his eyes to flit to your glassy ones with such danger. Such passion.

Such… eagerness.

“Didn't tell me y‘had a surprise.” The way surged his hips forward rather suddenly, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a petulant pout had your lips parting, letting out a shaky moan even before you could protest. 

“I–I wanted to…” You whined, silently begging him not to stop with your feet against his back, even if it fogged your mind from thinking straight, from making sense as you spoke, “I had it… L–Last month...” 

It has Phil feel some type of way—the best way, that is. If seeing his love handling her wedding ring with much care doesn't make him go crazy already, then this definitely would. Be prepared to have your hands pinned, be it to the bed, the wall, in the shower, wherever, whenever, so long they—both the tattoo and the ring, face him for a little while.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #— reve's asks 🌹 #eyes locked hands locked series #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x f!reader #phillip graves x you #graves cod #cod graves #graves x reader #graves x f!reader #graves x you #commander graves #commander graves x reader #commander graves x f!reader #commander graves x you #commander phillip graves #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod mw #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwiii #cod mw3

[buckyalpine]

always you’s angst only ending … feed us a tiny lil drabble of maybe bucky not stopping until he and bruce and maybe even shuri (cause bby’s the smartest) find a way to bring her back?

like he enters the portal, scoops up her body, and kisses her back to life. then throws her over his shoulder, locks her in his bedroom, and makes love to her for like a week straight.

“she’s barely been back for a month- AND SHE’S ALREADY PREGNANT?!”

- ur local angst slut who’s actually hella sensitive and cannot handle this shit, gossip girl 💋

Always you angst alternative ending 

18+

Okay YES, if your a pure angst fiend, you may ignore this but I'm here to mend hearts from the sadness that was this fic.

Warnings: Angst, FLUFFFFFFF, Smuuuttttt, happy ending 

5 years later

Bucky refused to accept you being gone. He tried to heal, going to therapy, grief counselling, medication, writing letters, everything under the fucking sun to help him come to terms with the fact that he’d never see you again. 

It was impossible.

It ate him alive.

He was physically stronger, pouring all his time into the gym to find a way to numb the pain but he was more mentally fucked than ever.

It had been 5 years, nearly 6 and the raw pain he felt was still fresh. Every night, he'd wake up searching for you. He couldn't let go, holding onto the pieces you had left behind. He wrote to you as often as he could, keeping a locked diary of things he wanted to tell you, letters he knew no one would see but what else could he do when he wanted to talk to you so badly but you weren’t there. 

That didn’t stop him from finding a way to pour his heart and soul somewhere. 

_________________________________

Happy Birthday babygirl,  I wish I could wake you up with kisses today, tell you how special the world is with you in it, make you pancakes, feed you in bed because I know you’ll cuddle up in the sheets until noon. Buy you a pretty dress, take you out, maybe even go dancing, even if its just me and you and Steve’s playlist of songs from the 40′s. I’d hold you close to me all night until your feet were sore or until Tony told us to turn the cheesy music off. 

I know he secretly ships us (Peter taught me that word) 

If it were up to Stark, he’d throw you the biggest birthday party ever; that wouldn’t stop me from trying to sneak you away for some more birthday kisses. birthday cuddles. Birthday sex...is a new song Sam introduced me to. 

I wanted to do so much with you today sweet girl. Show you how much I love you on your special day. I should have shown you before it was too late. I regret it every single day. I’d give anything for just another day, just so you’d know. 

It was always you. 

Steve brought you some flowers today, Sam brought some balloons. I hope you see them from wherever you are. It’s not the same without you here angel.

We miss you baby. 

I miss you. 

Till we meet again,  JBB 

_________________________________

Hi Baby, I know it’s not a special occasion, I have no real reason to write today. I missed you though. I wanted to tell you about how I jumped out of a plane today and all I could think of is how much you would have laughed because I didn’t use a parachute. You’re laugh is the sweetest sound in the world and I’d give anything to hear it just one more time.

Sam recorded it all, you would have been the first person he showed the footage to. I’d probably ignore you both and then you’d probably tease me about being grumpy and I’d want a kiss to feel better. And a hug. Maybe some cuddles. Please? 

Also you’d be proud of me today, Red Wing broke and it wasn’t my fault. Promise. I even apologized to Sam after but he doesn’t think I’m being sincere. And I’m not because red wing is a little shit. So is Sam. 

I miss you sweets. I wish you were here. It hurts. Everything hurts. 

I hope we meet again. I’ll never let you go. 

Yours, JBB

_________________________________

My y/n,

I’m sorry. I should have told you. I regret it everyday. I’ll never stop trying to find a way to get you back. 

I love you,

JBB

_________________________________

It’s been almost 6 years. It still hurts.

Till we meet again, JBB

_________________________________

I can’t anymore. I need you back. 

JBB

_________________________________

There were some days where Bucky was able to focus, writing as much as he could, spilling all of his feelings onto the paper, a tiny part of him hoping that one day he’d be able to give you all his letters so you’d know you were all he could think of. 

Then there were the days where sobs tore through his body, his breathing labored, only managing to scribble three words before crumbling into a dark abyss. Bucky wracked his brain every single day; if you were able to go back once, there had to be a way to get you back again. Bruce and Tony had spent countless hours in the lab trying to find a way to reopen the portal but nothing led to you. 

*****

Bucky stared at his burner, pressing call and ending it before it could go through multiple times before finally letting it ring. There was only one other person he could turn to. He knew he wasn’t going to be immediately welcomed back into Wakanda but this wasn’t just about him. Everyone wanted you back. Nothing was the same without you there. If there was a 1% chance to get you back, he had to try. His chest felt tight as the jet landed in a secluded area having arranged a private meeting with Shuri, the one person he trusted with his life. 

"I-I have a favor to ask" Bucky's eyes were already pleading with her, his heart racing as he approached her, ready to fall on his knees. 

"Anything Sergeant Barnes" Shuri smiled, sensing he was there for something urgent, nodding for him to continue. There was zero hesitation as she immediately agreed to come back with him to try and get you back, bringing her own lab equipment with her so she could work with Bruce. After filtering through a number of timelines and timestamps, she’d managed to pinpoint the portal to find you but it wasn’t without its consequences. 

“You understand you may not return” Shuri whispered as Bucky threw on his tactical gear, insisting on getting you all on his own while rest of the team watched in pin drop silence, reluctantly letting him go alone “And y/n...we can get her back but there's a chance she may not...” 

She squeezed his hand before he stepped onto the platform, not wanting to finish the sentence but he already understood. He knew it was possible he’d find you again but it didn’t mean he’d find you alive. 

“Then at least I get to say goodbye” He gave her a strained smile; he had to bring you home one way or another. If this was how he had to go, he would run happily to his death; he’d be at peace knowing he died trying to find you. With the push of a button, he was instantly thrown into a warp, transported to where you had last been with Nat. Everything came to a halt as he found himself at an abandoned hydra base, the cold nipping his skin. Bucky blinked, his vision focusing on the fuzzy figure laying on the ground, his feet moving before he could process anything. 

There was no one else around. 

It was you. 

His doll. 

His y/n.

He sprinted to you, tears clouding his vision as he approached you, dropping to his knees, both fear and hope fighting for dominance. He found you. You were there. But would he ever actually get you back? Were you even breathing? 

“Y/n?” Bucky cradled you to him, scooping you in his arms and chasing the portal that had already began to close. He held your face to his neck, his metal hand protecting your head, holding you securely against his body as you both fleshed back to the present. 

The team gasped as he appeared on the platform again with you safely tucked in his arms. They didn’t dare move, everyone holding their breaths while Bucky laid you down with you still in his arms, his hand softly stroking your cheek. 

“Y/n? Doll?” His heart was beating erratically, your skin was warm, a glimmer of hope burning stronger as he gently shook you, pressing his cool metal hand against your face. “Please” 

“C’mon doll, come back to me baby, I have so much I need to tell you” He pleaded, his warm breath fanning against your face, tears brimming his eyes. Tony and Steve itched to whisk you off to the medbay while Sam silently shook his head, wanting to give Bucky an extra minute, hoping you’d be able to wake up in the super soldiers arms where you belonged. 

“Baby, wake up sweets” Bucky couldn't help himself, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, trailing feather light kisses down your face while cuddling you. “C’mon I l-love you” His voice cracked, his lips finally pressing against yours. They were still soft, warm, you had to wake up, you had to-

Your lips stirred, your eyes cracking open, taking your first breath as your eyes focused on Bucky. 

“Sweetheart?” Bucky's eyes grew wide, unsure if he was dreaming or not, scrambling to hug you closer, cupping your face gently.  

“Bucky?” Your voice was a raspy whisper, leaning into his touch, feeling his tears fall onto your skin as he pulled you into his chest. 

“My doll” He let out a soft sob, cradling your head as you buried your face into his neck, moved to cling onto him, the last thing you remembered was darkness and now you were in his arms again surrounded by his warmth, his scent. Everyone stayed rooted in place, tears falling freely, dying to grab you, hug you, hold you again but they were not about to separate the two of you, not after how badly Bucky had yearned to get you back. 

“Bucky” You wept, your mind still piecing together how you were back but it didn’t matter, not when he was holding you again. 

“Hi baby” He whispered against your hair, wiping your tears with his thumb, cupping your face, kissing you all over before capturing your lips again, relishing in your touch, feeling your fingers card through his short locks. You lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world no longer existing. 

“Okay white wolf, When do we get to say hi to our girl” Sam snorted, sniffling seeing you tucked in Bucky’s arms, the brunettes lips curved into a smile for the first time since you’d been gone. Bucky loosened his hold around you, helping you to your feet, giving you one more kiss before letting go. 

“Come here” Steve scooped you up immediately after, struggling not to squeeze you tight, “We missed you sweet heart, so much”

“Hasn’t been the same without you” Sam gave you a once over, determining you were well enough for a slightly bone crushing hug before having you grabbed away by Tony. Tony wasn’t able to say much, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling, hugging you the longest, reluctant to let you go. You were engulfed in Nat’s arms as she wept, squeezing you like her life depended on it. 

“You saved me” She whispered in your hair, her tears falling onto your skin, “Don’t ever do that again” She hissed sternly, grabbing your face to look at her, “Don’t ever ever do something like that again” 

“Give me my baby back” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder as soon as everyone had gotten their hugs and kisses, not interested in giving anyone a second longer when he needed you so badly. You squealed, giggling as he carried you straight down the hall towards his room without glancing back. As soon as he locked the door, his hands were all over you, holding you tightly to him. 

“Your baby?” You shyly whispered as he rested his forehead against yours, nodding and chasing your lips. 

“M’never letting you go again doll, never” He trailed kisses down your neck while unbuckling the straps of your gear letting it drop to the floor. “I want to love you, I want to hold you, I want to make love to you, I want it all with you” 

Bucky tore your clothes off, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bathroom, turning the hot water on, hot water pouring over both if you. The steam made you woozy, your body turning into jelly under his touch as he massaged your muscles with delicate touches, his lips ghosting over every bruise and scar that had marked your skin. You let out a needy whimper, staying close to him, your butterflies erupting in your tummy every time he touched you. 

“Bucky please”

“I want to love you so badly baby, love you the way you deserve” Bucky willed himself not to take you right there, focused on rinsing off and grabbing a towel, carrying you over to his bed. He tossed to towel off, climbing on top of you, neither of you having the patience for a slow build or teasing. Your belly clenched feeling his hard length rut and rub against your bare cunt, your slick coating his cock. 

“I need you” He rasped while you whined, wrapping your legs around him, bucking your hips up. “You have no idea baby, God I need you” His eyes were pleading with you, his cock starting to leak feeling your arousal. 

“Wanna feel you Bucky” You spread your legs for him, your breath hitching feeling the tip of his cock rub through your folds before pressing into your entrance. 

“Gonna make love to you so good sweet girl” Bucky whispered as he started to push his cock in, his heart beating faster, cock growing harder feeling your heat pull him in deeper. He groaned, letting his body weight fall onto you as he started to thrust, pleasure consuming both of you immediately. 

“JAmessss” Your gasp melted into a moan, your head pressed against his pillow as he filled you, stretching you open, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. “Stretching me to so good Buckyyy” 

“Yeah? You feel so good wrapped around me baby” He rasped, his orgasm already creeping down his spine as he pressed sloppy kisses all over your face, overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of you under him. Your moans made him twitch, nearly growling when he felt your nails dig into his skin as he kissed your cervix with each roll of his hips. 

“I missed you so much baby, didn’t know what to do with myself, I-I couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t live-” Bucky could feel tears brimming his eyes, struggling to keep them away, “Fuck I missed you so much, I felt like I was drowning every single day” 

You sniffled over his words, your heart connected with his, squeezing your thighs around his waist, desperate to keep every inch of his body pressed with yours. 

“It-it was always you” He kissed your forehead, as he kept you caged under him, moaning against your skin.

“I love you” you cupped his cheeks, brushing his tears away, his nose lightly bumping against yours. You pulled him down for a sweet kiss, only pulling away for air. All of it was so much all at once, the quietest cries and softest kisses, feeling every inch of each other, making up for lost time. Bucky pulled the covers over you both, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth, hiding you from the rest of the world, savoring this moment with just the two of you, his sweet girl back in his arms again. 

He let his arms roam across your body, stroking your waist, your thighs, gently cupping your breasts, softly suckling your nipples, his body trembling as he tried to hold his climax off and make this moment last forever. 

“M’gonna marry you, you know that?” His hands came to lace with yours, pinning you against the bed, eyes locked with yours. His pace didn’t falter, thrusting into you, loving the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, rolling his hips so he could push into you deeper. “W-will you? Will you marry me babygirl” 

He knew you had just come back but he wanted nothing more, unable to stop the words from slipping out. You let your own tears fall down your cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“Yes” You whimpered, sniffling back sobs as he stroked your head, smiling against your lips. 

“Gonna make you my wife baby, marry you and take care of you until my last breath” He started to fuck you faster, panting, the muscles in his body tensing. 

“Tell me more Bucky, please?” You whined, your heart aching for more, everything you’d always wanted with the one person you’d always been in love with. 

“Oh baby, M’gonna get you pregnant sweet girl, have a family with you, everything with you, take care of your swollen belly, make love to you even when you’re full of me, show you how much I adore you princess” You gasped as he braced himself, his grunts growing louder, his body heat radiating off him, unable to stop the pleasure that was growing. 

“Tell me your mine baby” He whined, wrapping his arms around you while you threw your head back, your eyes rolling back at the feel of his pubic bone rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with each thrust. 

“I’m yours Bucky” 

“Fuck don’t stop y/n, please, I need it” His voice was needy, desperately clinging onto your body, craving to hear nothing else. “Say it again doll”

“I’m yours Bucky, all yours soldier” You moaned louder, your legs shaking around him “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum with me baby, same time, please” 

“BuckyBuckyBucky- You cried our, your walls staring to flutter, ready to fall off the edge with hi. 

“M’right here, I got you, togther, c’mon, cum with me princess” Bucky rolled his hips, pounding you into the mattress, biting down onto your neck as he felt your nails scratch down his back while white hot pleasure tore through you, your pussy milking his cock. 

“FUCK JAMES” Your body trembled as he fucked you through your high, burying his face into your neck, his lips brushing by your ear. 

“YES, Yes baby, my good girl, my sweet girl, s’perfect for me, yes, I’m gonna give you my cum, get you pregnant, have a baby with you, take care of you, love you, all of it with you baby, fuck- I LOVE YOU- UGGHHH- 

Bucky collapse on you, filling you with his cum until the bed was damp, his body jolting from sensitivity each time you fluttered around him while kissing his temple. He hardly moved, a steady stream of cum still pouring into you, staying connected to you the entire night, cuddling you next to him. 

“I finally have my baby back, my sweet sweet baby, she’s back” 

It has been nearly a week since you were back but you hadn’t left Bucky’s room once. You only took a few moments to eat and sleep, the rest of the time wrapped up in each other, connected in the most intimate way possible, while whispering sweet nothings, 

It was everything Bucky needed. Emotional. Warm. Soft. Loving. 

He couldn’t help the tears every time he was inside you, he finally had you back, wrapping his arms around you every time you made love, making sure you knew exactly how much he had always adored you. As much as he wanted to take you apart in every way imaginable, he couldn’t help but slip into missionary every single time, wanting to see your pretty face, feel your body, have your legs wrap around him as he came inside you. 

*****

You threw on your coat while Bucky slipped his arm around your waist while you both made your way down, passing through the living room on our way out. 

“Damn future Mrs. Barnes” Sam whistled, along with the rest of the team, everyone gathered for a night for a movie. “Where you off to?” 

“The three of us are going out for dinner” Bucky smiled with a child like grin, snickering to himself while the team looked at you with confusion. 

“Three?” Steve cocked his head, noting the way you shied into Bucky’s chest, giggling while he kissed your head, his hand slipping down to brush over your belly. “THREE?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he shot out of his seat, pointing at your tummy. “THREE” He whipped his head to Tony, Nat, Sam and Clint who slowly connected the dots. “THREE” 

“For fucks sake, it hasn’t even been a month Barnes” Tony snorted, while everyone pilled onto you both, a large mess of hugs and tears. 

“You didn’t waste any time, huh” Sam wiggling his eyebrows while Bucky wrapped his arms around you, his hands splayed on your tummy. 

“Never again” He whispered, tilting your chin to kiss you deeply, “Never ever again” 

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#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky smut #bucky fluff #steve rogers #sam wilson #tony stark #marvel smut #avengers smut #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fics #Bucky Barnes

[incorrectbatfam]

If the members of the batfam wrote memoirs or essays about themselves, what would their opening hooks be?

Dick: *record scratch and freeze frame* So you're probably wondering how I ended up here.

Jason: This is the story of how I died. Don't worry, I got better.

Tim: It all began on the day of my actual birth. Both of my parents failed to show up.

Damian: A caution to those who have an inferiority complex: stop reading right this second. The Homeric epic of my life will only make you feel more useless.

Duke: According to all known laws of city planning, there is no way a city like Gotham should be able to exist. It's infrastructure is too weak to build its fat little buildings off the ground. Gotham, of course, runs anyway, because the city doesn't care what humans think is impossible.

Cullen: The first rule of Tumblr is you don't talk about Tumblr.

Stephanie: ...I can explain.

Cassandra: Hi my name is Cassandra Wu-San Black Bat Orphan Cain and I have short bat-colored black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-shoulder and cold black eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like an Asian Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to the Biblical Cain but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a bat but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a vigilante, and I live in a comic book city called Gotham in New Jersey where I’m the second Batgirl (I’m twenty-four). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black bodysuit with matching holsters around it and a black leather jacket, yellow fingerless gloves and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside in Gotham. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of Rogues stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Barbara: Do you ever look at someone and wonder what is going on inside their head?

Harper: A long long time ago in a city far away...

Carrie: Bruce told me I can't insert audio so let's just say you got Rickrolled.

Kate: The definition of gay? Me. The definition of disaster? Also me. My picture's in the dictionary twice, suck it.

Alfred: In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and more bat-children. And at this point I'm not so sure about death.

Selina: "Mom I want Bruce Wayne" "We have Bruce Wayne at home" The Bruce Wayne at home:

Bruce: Look behind you.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cullen row #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #harper row #carrie kelley #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #crack #tw swearing #tw death mention #long post

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

hi….I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN ALMOST TWO WEEKS? SINCE IVE POSTED. I was hit with the most SEVERE writers block i’ve ever had in my whole life. i hope you guys like this one. I'm feeling real self-conscious about my writing lately :( MUAH

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: Just smut. Mean old man leon, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, just enjoy

Word count: 1.4k

Though you loved Leon- he sure was a pain in the ass on his days off. Leon prided himself on being your provider; the only thing you ever had to worry about was looking pretty for him when he got home. And you tried- most of the time.

Yet on Saturdays he doesn’t give you the time of day. Ever. You always make him the best dinner, your hands scrubbing at the dishes in the sink as you yet again had to put Leon’s food in a small container. You turn off the sink, letting out a long sigh at the sound of Leon’s music shaking the kitchen floor. You start the dishwasher before you make your way to the garage door. Swinging it open as the chorus to coming undone by Korn rang through your ears. You winced at the loud music, your hand on your hip as you stood on the top step. The room was thick with smoke, slowly being aired out from the tiny crack in the opened garage door. Leon never notices your presence; the only reason he did was because your hand harshly smacks down on his radio, his head popping up from where he squatted down on the floor.

“The fuck?”

Leon’s husky voice rang through your ears as he wiped his hands on his jeans—such an asshole. You tilted your head at him with a cocky little smirk as you pointed toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Jus’ give me five more minutes baby and I’ll come eat, promise.”

Leon didn’t like that you mocked him, his hand resting on his knee as he just stared up at you

“You done?”

“Are you done?”

It was accidentally yelled but Leon couldn’t hear the whole accident part, his eyebrows raising as he stood up, laying his towel on his bike seat as his leg goes up the step. Leon’s head shakes as he watches you stepping back from him. It almost makes him laugh.

“Your dinner is in the fridge.”

Your words are cold; Leon smirked as he nodded his head again, taking a step toward you.

“Oh, c'mon honey.. y’know I hate when you’re all mad and pouty, especially at me.”

You shouldn’t be giving in to him. You know his tricks and how he works. Being in love with Leon on his good days was the best time of your life. You’ve been with him for years, the man has been through too much, and he has terrible days often. When did he get this close? His large hand presses up your tummy and around your waist before he pushes you into the garage door.

Leon smirks at the whine that leaves your lips as his strong hands hold at your waist, turning you around so your chest is against the door and your back is lying so perfectly against his

“So mean to my little girl.. always makes me dinner, folds my clothes..”

Leon’s cheek lays against your ear as he smells your strawberry shampoo, groaning as the sweet scent fills his nose.

“Never make time for you.. I bet you rub your pretty little clit all the time when I’m gone.. so sorry for being so negligent..”

Leon’s words make a soft moan escape your mouth. He knew he won, twisting open the door and shoving you into the kitchen, shoving himself against you.

“You think I care? You think I feel bad?”

He’s so much more robust, it’s impossible to fight him. His hands tug your jeans down your legs before a harsh smack comes onto your skin, making you jolt into the counter.

“Don’t fucking move and answer me, you had so much to say now you’re silent?”

What did he expect you to say? You hated apologizing when you knew it wasn’t your fault. Maybe he should be saying sorry to you, for constantly ignoring you on his days off and ignoring your hard work.

All is forgiven when he shoves his cock so deep inside you that your breathing stops, your hands grabbing at the counter as your toes curl into the wooden floors.

“You know I usually warm her up.. love sucking on your clit, but you needed more than that, didn’t you?”

Leon pulls your hips toward him more, using his strength as an advantage to bend you over the counter more. He couldn’t help but let out a shaky moan at the sight of you gripping his cock when he dragged himself out of you, using all his weight to fuck back into you.

It felt so fucking good but hurt so badly, your eyes squeezed shut as you continued to try and adjust to his size but in truth, he hadn’t touched you in weeks.

“Fuck Le.. jus’ miss you so much.”

The words left your lips in a slurred whine as you tilted your head back trying to look back at the handsome man who was far too focused on not cumming inside you two seconds into fucking you. Leon nodded his head as he reached forward, soft shushing leaving his lips as he pulled some hair from your face and grabbed at your neck, pulling you back towards him as his hips began to rock into you

“I know baby, can see it.. can’t you feel how much you missed me?”

Leon mumbled into your ear before kissing at the sensitive skin at your neck as he tried to fuck through your tightness but there was no point. Leon shoved you back down into the counter before his hands rested against your ass, pulling the skin apart to watch the way you sucked him in.

Leon’s whimper sent chills down your spine. Maybe work has been too much.. how selfish of you to assume he didn’t love you.

“Maybe I’ll put a baby in you, hm? Then you really won’t forget how much I love you.”

He knew he won by the way your mouth was hanging open, that toothy smile spreading across his face as his hips moved faster

“That’s my fucking girl..”

Leon moaned as he pulled himself out of you and grabbed at your wrist, watching as you blinked at him all confused. You try not to question him in times like these but when Leon pushes you down onto the plush couch, a small yelp leaves your lips as Leon's hands gripped at your thighs. Before you could even blink he was bottomed out inside of you again, shallow breaths leaving your nose as he shoves your knees to your chest and over his shoulders. He thinks it’s so cute as your shaky little hands try and push him away, he’s just so deep, his cock hitting that gummy spot inside of you that makes the coil in your stomach burn.

“No, no, don’t push away from me now. You wanted this remember? You fucking wanted this look at me-“

Leon’s fingers harshly gripped at your face, smacking down onto your already flushed skin causing you to whimper out as his thrusts somehow grow deeper.

“Leon..”

Your whine is enough for him to know, His hand reaching down to press into your stomach before he steadies his position, pounding into you. Every thrust makes that small little scream leave your lips that drives Leon fucking crazy, sweat building at his brow as he roughly fucks into you.

He could watch you thrash beneath him for hours, your mouth open babbling nonsense begging him to stop but your hips push up to meet his cock every single time. He watches as you go silent, your knees pressing together as your walls squeeze at his cock, Leon groans, his hand gripping at your knee as he tries not to fall on top of you as he finally finishes inside of you. His hips move very slowly as he grinds into you. His breath is heavy as he looks down at you, reaching down to push some hair from your face as he pulls out of you.

The two of you just stare at each other for a bit before you sit up, walking to grab your jeans and turning to the bathroom.

Leon shakes his head as he rebuttons his pants and stands up, his hands helping you tug your jeans up your legs before he grabs at your ass, smacking lightly as he makes his way towards the garage.. again.

“Warm my food up for me.”

#yourgentlegf #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy angst #older leon kennedy #older leon plz

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mom to either get me what I've asked for, or to just get me gift cards?

This probably makes me sound horrible and ungrateful, but this is an issue I've had for about the last ten years of my life. I love my mother dearly, and I am so insanely grateful that we are in a financial position where we can receive gifts at all. I'd genuinely be happy with just a card and a cozy day in, but my mom always insists it isn't Christmas without at least one or two things under the tree.

I always ask her routinely as we inch toward the later months of the year what she'd like, and I do my best to get her exactly what she wants. I'll get her one or two other things too, like some skincare or chocolates or shoes or something, but I always stick to what she actually asks for.

If she asks me for a specific dress, she'll get it. If she asks me for a certain type of perfume, she'll get it.

The same....Cannot be said for her.

I've begged her over the years to just stick to getting me what I ask for. I don't ask for anything expensive. I think the most expensive thing I've ever asked for were concert tickets, and I offered to pay half. I just more or less wanted help actually getting them, because as we all know, concert tickets sell so fast its like you blink and they're gone, and the more people you have trying to get them the more chances of success.

Usually I'll ask for something like a particular poster I saw online, or a bedding set, a new phone case, ect. Small, easy to get things because honestly, I don't need that much.

What I actually end up with is a bunch of random stuff I will never use and clothing I'd never wear and once or twice, tickets to do things I hate doing.

Its like she asks me what I want then goes out of her way to get me the exact opposite of what I've asked for. She always pouts at me and berates me for 'looking disappointed' or never using anything she gets me (I hold onto it for a few months then quietly give it away to a friend or thrift store).

It makes me feel guilty, but this is a conversation we have every. Single. Christmas.

(For example I'll ask for, say, a pair of white shoes. What I'll actually get is a box of wind up toys from the dollar store, expensive paint brushes when I've never touched paint in my life, and a box of chocolates from a brand I don't like.)

This year, once again, she asked me for my list, and I just gave her some stores and told her I'd like gift cards to those places. She gave me a weird look and dropped it, but asked again a few times, and each time I just reiterated what stores I wanted gift cards to.

Well lo behold, I come home from college and there's packages under the tree. Proper packages, not just envelopes or anything else that a gift card would realistically be in.

I guess I was staring at the tree with a weird/sour expression, because it wound up starting an argument between us. Her argument was she's getting me gifts, I should be grateful, and she tries really hard but I'm just 'impossible to please.'

My argument is I tell her repeatedly exactly what I want and not once have I ever gotten what's actually on my list. In which case, why the fuck should I bother writing a list? I'd rather have the gift cards so I can buy exactly what I wanted in the first place.

She said I ask for clothes, I get clothes. I said I ask for specific clothes and she gets me ones that I wouldn't even look at in the store, let alone buy.

The whole argument ended up with her calling me an ungrateful asshole and confiscating my gifts to return them all after the New Year. She told me I can just have the money from returning them and 'be fucking happy for once.'

Its Christmas Eve and she's still not speaking to me. I feel terrible, but I'm also relieved. Either this means from now on she won't get me anything, or from now on if she asks for my list she'll actually get me what's on it.

My dad is staying in the middle. He said I'm right, and over the years he's tried to convince her not to buy all that stuff, but he also said I should've just done what I always do, fake a smile, and get rid of it later.

Is he right or was this fight a blessing in disguise? Am I the asshole for ruining Christmas or am I justified in voicing what I have for the last ten years running?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[headspace-hotel]

3 questions:

1. How do you carry the heavy burden of having so many correct beliefs plus the rare combination of motivation and the right approach to making the world a better place? 2. Does your back hurt?

3. What do you think about David Pearce's utopian idea that a sufficiently technologically advanced future society could and should one day abolish (or at least minimize) suffering, partly by redesigning the biosphere and its inhabitants to be kinder and gentler to each other? IMO that could involve bioengineering predation out of existence.

Sorry if I already asked you about this. You seem very smart and seem to know a lot about ecology so I want to know your thoughts

1. Half the work is fighting very hard against starting to believe this very thing (that I have correcter beliefs than many other people). I hope my posts inspire y'all to read things that are not posts.

2. Not really.

3. The term you're looking for is "life on Earth goes extinct."

But, okay, I've seen this sentiment before, and it is—not that you are, just that the idea is— a naive and arrogant approach to ethics in nature

I don't think it's wrong to change the biosphere. That's what life DOES. It evolves.

But "ending suffering" is an impossible goal because we don't, and in some ways can't, understand suffering scientifically. Suffering is an internal state that is defined only by the perceiver's experience of it. We still do not know the ins and outs of how physical pain works in humans, let alone spicy, obscure emotions like Existential Angst.

People who are concerned with the problem of suffering in nature focus on predation and pain in the animal kingdom—understandable if you have thought about it for under five minutes, but hopelessly incomplete and arbitrary if you consider that a creature's ability to feel and perceive is not determined by how humanlike it is.

There is no reason to think a plant or a mushroom is less capable of "suffering" than a lobster is. Plants and fungi are different; they are not simpler or less advanced or less alive than animals.

The corollary to this is that being marginally more humanlike doesn't mean that a creature "suffers" in the way a human does. When you think about it, living things can perceive "negative" stimuli because the ability to do so helped their ancestors survive. A solitary creature, for instance, wouldn't experience loneliness because being with others of its species isn't really necessary or beneficial for it. It's very likely that a creature that can't change its behavior to accommodate for or help heal an injury, can't experience continuous pain like we can. Does that mean they don't "suffer" as severely as we do? I'm not sure. It's impossible to say. I'm sure we all experience the world profoundly—I'm sure the perception of light by a bryozoan colony and the subsequent growth toward the light and feasting on algae "feels" as potent and spiritual as any of my complicated chordate emotions.

Long story short, stimuli like pain were adapted as responses that help a creature survive by avoiding things that are injurious to its survival. To eliminate suffering, you'd have to invent creatures that don't want to be alive, which would die out and be replaced by creatures that do.

Inventing creatures that don't want to be alive somehow sounds way more fucked up than anything that already exists.

But, hi, we are social creatures. Our survival instincts are overwhelmingly oriented toward seeking safety with other humans. PTSD is a disorder of social misplacement; it develops when the communities we live in don't properly acknowledge and care for our hurt after a distressing experience. We evolved to be able to communicate pain and distress to other humans, which means being aware of our own suffering, and that others can suffer, which explains why we are having this conversation, because wanting to relieve other creatures' suffering is a quality of our species.

I get tags on my posts sometimes referencing how nature is a brutal suffering machine—often when I'm talking about plant cognition and awareness—and it's troubling because that's not the takeaway I want people to have at all.

Because first of all, a healthy ecosystem working "as intended" does a lot to minimize suffering. People see predation as this violent and brutal thing, but for a deer, death by festering injury or starvation or parasite overload related to overcrowding or even old age is a lot more nasty and painful.

A biosphere without predators is unavoidably worse. The buffer on prey populations that predators provide creates optimal conditions for prey, because otherwise, the animals just reproduce to the point where the population can't increase any more because the animals are too sick/starving.

Predation ensures a deer with a horribly mangled broken leg will get picked off instead of limping around for months in pain (something i actually witnessed!). It's not evil. It just is.

If you really wanted to eliminate suffering, you would have to eliminate being alive, and to be completely honest, that is probably not possible. We could not render the Earth completely empty of even single celled organisms if we dumped every toxic chemical into the atmosphere and bombed ourselves with every nuclear weapon. We would still have tough bastards like Deinococcus radiodurans around, and those guys would probably eventually evolve into organisms with the capability to experience pain all over again.

Abiogenesis may be a bitch but life, once it exists, is a Pandora's box that can't be unopened. The first thing to be alive also invented death, and there's no way around that. The monkey-typewriter-room of molecules that let you understand that you exist are going to write out "WOW, THIS FUCKING SUCKS" every once in a while.

When you think about it, the ecosystem as it naturally evolved probably is one of the most low-suffering possible ecosystems, assuming that things that can be considered "suffering" evolved as survival mechanisms, and unnecessary mechanisms for suffering would be eliminated over time due to the detriment they are to survival.

Living things develop survival mechanisms, and this means the ability to distinguish good and bad stimuli. Can't get around that.

Even with the existence of predation and parasitism as important modes of survival, such overtly ""antagonistic"" relationships in nature aren't even dominant. A staggering portion of the biosphere is engaged by necessity in mutualism—most plants form mycorrhizal symbioses and flowering plants are also symbiotically joined to pollinators, not to mention that plants need each other to thrive.

You can view this positively (plants have friends!) or negatively (plants can get lonely...)

#random #ecology #life #no suffering without joy and no joy without suffering