#the boys however will be held like Objects

[clouvu]

Father-Son bonding moment ✨

#genshin impact #arlecchino #freminet #based off of that one twitter post because it's just SO arle x her children core #well mostly just fremmy and lyney #In my little delusional brain arle treats her little feline daughter like a princess and will be carried as such #the boys however will be held like Objects #ANYWAYS HAPPY ARLECCHINO DRIP MARKETING DAY I WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL BUT I WAS LAZY SO INSTEAD YOU'RE ALL GETTING A DUMB MEME

[vipetas]

i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered. 

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious. 

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #part 2?

[acey-wacey]

HIHI!!! I LOVED YOUR CHARACTER IS JEALOUS OF TSUM FIC!! (please I'm begging write more, it's too good)

Of course! I'm glad everyone liked them so much :)))

...

Jealous of Their Tsum

Feat Lilia, Rook, Kalim

...

🦇 Lilia Vanrouge 🦇

You're honestly used to Lilia popping out to scare you around campus.

Ever since you'd seen that Lilia had gotten an adorable doppelganger, you knew it would come to find you, just like the seemingly young boy always did.

It wasn't entirely unexpected when a little plushie landed on your head.

You were monetarily startled by the sudden ambush but you soon realized it was Lilia's tsum.

You laughed as the tsum blinked it's little dot eyes at you expectantly.

"You got me so good, Lilia-tsum," you praised the little bean while it hopped into your head and shoulders in glee. "Very scary."

You grabbed the tsum from where it was bouncing on your head and held it to your chest.

"You are just so adorable! I can't handle it!"

The tsum wiggled happily in your grasp and you pressed kisses to it's fabric forehead.

"How come I never get this when I scare you?"

You turned around to find Lilia hovering upside down behind you.

He did that to you so often you weren't even startled anymore.

You just smiled and flicked his forehead, earning a shocked stare from the boyish fae.

"Try being cuter next time."

Lilia frowned and dropped to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet.

"Is this face not cute enough for you?"

Lilia pouted at you with his best sad puppy dog eyes.

You, now immune to Lilia's antics, went right back to pressing smooches to his adorable tsum.

Lilia narrowed his eyes at the smug plush.

"Traitor," he whispered under his breath.

He could've sworn the tsum winked at him.

"If you want some affection, Lilia, you should try asking," you said nonchalantly while nuzzling your face into the tsum's.

Lilia vaguely sensed a trap but he would rather die than lose the object of his affections to a stuffed version of himself.

"Well then, my darling," he batted his eyelashes at you, making you smile. "Please?"

...

🏹 Rook Hunt 🏹

Rook left his tsum alone for 5 seconds and it was already gone.

Of course he couldn't expect anything less.

Curiosity was in his nature so of course his plush doppelganger would run away to explore a new world.

The tsum happily explored the NRC campus pausing often to appreciate the beauty of the unfamiliar world.

However, when you walked by on your way to class, the tsum was immediately entranced by your beauty.

It bounced after you and followed you around with hearts in its eyes.

After a while alone, you had begun to wonder what the strange noise from behind you was.

You turned around only to find an adorable round plushie hopping up and down on the ground.

It looked suspiciously like Rook so you narrowed your eyes at it.

"Have you been following me?"

The tsum squinted its eyes happily.

You laughed and bent down to look closer at the little creature.

"If I tell you to stop, will you?"

The tsum shook its body in what you assume to be a no.

"Just like the real Rook then," you groaned lovingly and unbuttoned the breast pocket of your jacket, opening it to the tsum.

"If you're gonna be here for a while, might as well get comfy, eh?"

The tsum eagerly hopped into your pocket and squirmed around with glee.

"You're actually kinda cute, you know that?"

You said to the tsum with a faint smile, scratching its head with one finger.

The plushie nuzzled into you and you patted it back affectionately.

"I must say, prefect, I am awfully jealous."

You smiled at the familiar sound of Rook's voice and paused, waiting for him to show himself.

You never looked around for him because you knew seeing you startled and frantic was just what he wanted.

Little did you know it was what he loved most about you.

"The great Rook Hunt, jealous of a tiny plushie," you said with a smug smile in your voice. "How low you have fallen."

Rook almost instantly appeared beside you with a sly smile.

"Not nearly as far as I intend to for you, mon chou." Rook clutched his chest dramatically. "But to see your affection passed on to one so similar to me and yet so different, oh, it breaks my fragile heart."

"Then I'm sorry, Rook, but your heart will have to stay broken as long as my adorable little pocket pal is around," you patted the tsum again, earning a joyful bounce.

Rook only sighed in response.

"There may yet be a day when I replace my fiendish friend as the object of your affections but until then, may you know my heart waits for you, my love."

You were frustratingly flustered by the sudden confession.

Rook always said sappy stuff like that but for some reason, it hit different this time.

You didn't say anything until he began to walk away.

"Hey, wait!"

Rook shopped to look over his shoulder at you.

"Come on, Rook," you groaned with a blush dusting your cheeks. You lifted the tsum out of your pocket, much to its dismay, and set it gently on the ground. "You don't get to say something like that and then walk away without kissing me!"

Rook smiled and ran to wrap you in his arms.

"If this is my reward, I should get jealous more often."

...

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim and his tsum are inseparable, much to Jamil's chagrin.

It's hard to find one without the other especially when it comes to you.

Both Kalims flock to you as soon as they see you.

On one notable occasion, Kalim-tsum was a bit faster to bounce after you.

The plush launched into your arms, causing you to drop the notebooks you were holding.

You scowled lightheartedly at the adorable tsum in your arms.

"I don't suppose you're going to help me clean this up?"

You raised an eyebrow at the tsum but it just cocked its head at you.

You sighed and set the tsum onto your shoulder as you bent down to pick up your books.

"It seems every version of Kalim is determined to cause me trouble," you sighed, booping the little critter on the nose.

It wiggled its little button nose and hopped backwards on what you assumed was a sneeze.

You laughed and took the plushie back into your hands, tucking your books under your arm.

"I can't stay mad at you, you're too cute!"

You looked at the tsum helplessly susceptible to its charms.

"Hi, Y/N!"

You looked up to see Kalim running toward you.

He saw the tsum in your arms and beamed at you.

"I see you found my doppelganger! Pretty cool, right?"

"Yeah, he's pretty adorable," you cooed as you pinched the little things cheeks.

Kalim pouted and set his head on your hands right next to where you were holding his tsum.

"Why does he get to be adorable and not me?"

You held back a laugh at the puppy-like glint in Kalim's eyes.

The tsum hopped up onto Kalim's head and you took the opportunity to grab Kalim's cheeks and bring your face close to his.

"You're a whole different kind of adorable."

At that, Kalim beamed, automatically squishing his face into your hands.

That did earn a laugh from you and you couldn't help but kiss his nose.

"You are the absolute cutest, Kalim. No tsum can top that."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader

[dexlexia]

how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.

join me on discord! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 

Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 

Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 

  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.

So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 

At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 

There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 

It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 

-

You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.

You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 

It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 

  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.

  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  

You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 

  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“

  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.

You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 

He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.

The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 

Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 

  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”

You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."

He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“

You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“

He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.

You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 

  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 

Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 

  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.

  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 

You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 

He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 

Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 

The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 

  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 

He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.

The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.

  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 

He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 

Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”

You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?

-

It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 

You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 

But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 

 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.

  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 

  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”

 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”

It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 

You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“

He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 

You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.

His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 

You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 

You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 

  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 

Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 

Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 

His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.

Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.

The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.

Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.

  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 

Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 

He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.

You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 

He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 

  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“

You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 

-

Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 

It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 

You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 

You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 

  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 

While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.

  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 

You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."

He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 

He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.

  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.

You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 

  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 

  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 

He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 

You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 

  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 

You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“

He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“

You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“

  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“

You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.

Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 

The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 

You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.

You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!

Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.

Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 

You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.

The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 

You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.

Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 

#dexlexia writes #reader insert #anime x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece smut #the cross guild #cross guild #one piece mihawk #one piece buggy #one piece crocodile #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader

[partycatty]

Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙

ofcccc love

kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight

uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))

notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF

masterlist <3

♡

kenshi >

kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.

he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.

you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?

"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."

you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.

you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.

then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.

"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.

his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.

♡

syzoth >

he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.

"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.

"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.

he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.

as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.

"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."

syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.

you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.

"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."

syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.

you make him nervous, and that's really cute.

♡

johnny >

johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.

"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.

his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!

what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.

he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.

johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.

you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.

"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."

"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.

♡

liu kang >

he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.

liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.

that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.

he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.

liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.

"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."

liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.

geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.

"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"

geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #liu kang x reader #liu kang #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #marley writes ☆

[loveharlow]

LET ME SHOW YOU

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.1k] JJ teaches his girlfriend how to indulge in the wonders of his favorite hobby.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, a heated make-out session, mentions of/illusions to sex, drug use, my poor descriptions of smoking

A/N‧₊˚ I lowkey (highkey) had fun with this. Stay safe and make good life decisions.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

ENTERING THE CHATEAU, YOU SPOTTED JOHN B LAID OUT ON HIS SOFA. He was on his phone, texting rapidly and biting his lip. Weird. His eyes drifted to you from the phone clutched in his hands as he heard the screen door close behind you. His eyes went wide and he dropped the phone, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Uh, hey. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“I��m just looking for JJ.” You told him, eyeing him skeptically. “He told me to meet him here.”

Adjusting the hat on his head, he gestured for the front door. “He’s out in the Twinkie. I told him I didn’t want him smoking in the house.” Nodding and mumbling a thanks to the brunette boy, You turned on your feet to leave the same way you came in.

With your hand on the door handle, you turned to face him once more.

“John B?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re going to sext your girlfriend, don’t do it in your living room with the door unlocked.” You teased.  And with that, you were walking out of The Chateau, leaving a flustered John B behind and hearing his ‘fuck you’ as the door slammed shut.

APPROACHING THE VAN PARKED OUTSIDE THE CHATEAU, YOU BANGED ON THE BACK DOORS. “It’s me!” You stepped back a couple feet as the door swung open, your boyfriend revealing himself with a joint hanging from his lips, hair messy, and clouds of faint smoke billowing out around him that, no doubt, had been collecting in the air. He smiled around the object in between in lips and held a hand out to help you into the foggy van.

Once inside, he shut the doors again and plopped down on the floor of the rickety vehicle. It was mildly smokey and a little humid. JJ pulled the small object from his between his lips so he could speak clearly. “Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, clearly already a little buzzed. He was sitting against the side of the van, legs outstretched in front of him with a lit joint pinched between his fingers. His eyes, however, were on you. Scanning your frame up and down, almost hungrily.

Sitting down across from him, legs in the same outstretched position, you cocked an eyebrow. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He shrugged. "Can't help it."

JJ knew the affect he had on you, as did you. When he would do certain things, say certain things...He could make your head spin so easily. “Why’d you call me so early? I thought we were hanging out with everyone later.”

“I’m just wanted to see my girl.”

“You miss me that much?” You joked with a slight smile and shake of your head. “C’mon, J. What do you really want?” You inquired nudging your knee against his.

He took a hit of his joint, blowing the smoke out and throwing his head back. His eyes met yours as a smug grin crept its way onto his features. He held out the joint in your direction. “Smoke this with me.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You weren't against smoking or drinking but you've only ever indulged in the latter. You'd never been too intrigued by the idea of weed or smoking in general. “I have no idea how to do that.” You chuckled, lifting your shoulders nervously.

JJ rolled his eyes with a smile and leaned forward to grab your wrist, tugging you towards him. You put up no fight, letting him guide you gently until you were perched in his lap, legs on either side of him as he made sure to hold the lit object away from you as not to accidentally burn you.

“Let me show you.” He shrugged, unbothered. “If you want.”

Suddenly, you found it much hotter inside the spacious vehicle. The smoke in the air not helping. You nodded and tried to ignore the growing heat in your cheeks. JJ smiled and licked his lips. His free hand fell to your hip, holding you in place.

He brought the joint, that was now a more of a stub, up to his lips. Smoking the last of it, he exhaled the smoke to the left as to not blow it directly into your face and put it out in the ashtray next to him. You frowned and pinched my eyebrows together at the action. “...Why did you do that?”

“There wasn’t enough left to teach you anything. ‘M gonna roll a new one.” He spoke causally, noting your fallen and confused expression. “I promise you’ll get your lesson, mama.” He teased with a wink.

Twisting his body lightly, he picked up a plastic bag and some metal cylinder-type thing that were next to the ashtray. He sat them both on his lap between you two, taking one of the green-ish buds out of the bag and holding it out to you. Taking it, you immediately noted the way it stuck lightly to the tips of your fingers. “Why is it so sticky?”

“Realistically? Because of some kind of substance it produces. I don’t know what it’s called. But, the way I see it? It’s sticky because I paid too much for it not to be.” He jokes, plucking the herb cluster from your nimble fingers.

Lifting the top of the small contraption, revealing little spikes and holes inside—he transferred some of the contents of the bag into it. “Do you know what this is?”

“Mm...no.”

“It’s an herb grinder. You put the buds in here-” He grabbed the top that he removed earlier. “-put this back on.” Sealing the object, now with the herbs inside—he turned the top part of it around a couple times. “You’re gonna rotate the top. This’ll grind everything up and separate it.”

“Which does what, exactly?”

“Makes it easier to smoke and burn evenly. More smooth.”

JJ’s eyes were hooded and he was clearly relaxed. It was fascinating to see him teach you something while in his hazy state. But it was also kind of hot. He stopped rotating the top of it and went to unscrew the second part. When he opened it, he revealed the ground herbs. “This is the part we’ll smoke. Don’t smoke anything from the third chamber-” He said firmly, pointing to the very bottom of the herb grinder. “-down here.”

“Why not?” You asked curiously, still looking at the contents. 

He chuckled at your peaked curiosity of it all. “That is called Kief, sweetheart. And someone like you doesn’t want any parts of that. It’s strong, as fuck.” 

“But you can smoke it?”

“Yes, but you won’t. Not today, anyway.” He consoled, placing a quick kiss to your warm cheek. He set the grinder down beside the ashtray, still within reach, and picked up a rectangular, thin package. “This is rolling paper.” He concluded, plucking a sheet carefully and holding it lengthwise. Reaching over, he took some of the ground herbs and sprinkled it in the paper. 

Once the paper was filled with the crushed buds, he rolled it into a tube-like shape, albeit slightly uneven, and sealed it with his tongue. He held it up between our faces with a dopey smile plastered on his face. “And there we have it.” He nudged it closer to you, a sign to take it from him.

When it was clasped between your two fingers, JJ fished around in his pockets for a lighter, slightly moving you around on his lap and throwing you off balance. Once he had the object, the hand that was empty was trailing up to hold the back of your neck. He held the lighter up, slightly wiggling it before he spoke. 

“You’re gonna put that to your lips and when I finish lighting it, you’re going to inhale. Not too fast or deep and not for too long. You’re gonna cough but you’re good.” He assured. Flicking the lighter on, he raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

You nodded and placed the small joint between your lips. JJ lit the opposite end and retracted the lighter away and let it die. “Inhale, carefully…” He coaxed.

The smoke filled your lungs, and it felt overwhelming. Your chest felt full and your throat tickled as JJ pulled the object from your lips, rubbing your hip as you coughed clouds of smoke. He started laughing and you weakly swatted his chest.

“You did good. You inhaled a little too long, though.” He grabbed his backpack on his left and unzipped it, taking out a bottle of water from inside. Unscrewing the cap with the joint clutched between his fingers like a cigarette, he tilted your chin up. “Open.” He ordered. You obliged without question, still coughing mildly. He poured the water into your mouth and pulled it back, pushing your chin up to close your mouth. 

You swallowed, the mildly cool beverage cooling the walls of your throat and soothing the dryness as he sealed the bottle and threw it to the side. Once Iyou felt confident enough to speak again, you leveled your eyes with your boyfriend’s. “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Can you feel anything?”

“A little. It’s like, I can feel it working it’s way through me but it’s not there yet. It feels weird, but good.”

“Wanna shotgun?”

“...Do I want to what now?” You asked with mild uncertainty. JJ cracked a little smile and shook his head with a slight giggle. Repositioning the joint between his fingers, he brought it up to his lips and took a hit. Once he pulled it away, he leaned forward—his free hand lightly wrapping around the base of your throat as he brushed his lips over mine and blew the smoke into my mouth, you proceeding to inhale almost on instinct.

Your heart was beating so fast and you didn’t know if it was the weed or the blonde boy in front of you. You blew the smoke back out on a shaky breath, your eyes drifting down to his lips. 

You didn’t even register the movement he made to connect his lips with your own until you felt the familiar, pillowy-soft feeling of his lips, the slight tinge and warmth of your activities swirling around in the exchange. His lips moved against your, slow but firm—his lips were slightly dry but not chapped and he tasted of something that was so…him. 

The hand resting on your throat tightened in the slightest of ways as the hand holding the blunt disposed of it in the ashtray before coming up to hold the side of your face. Your own hands roamed the hair at the back of his neck as you shifted on his lap, eliciting a low grunt from the boy underneath you. 

You could feel the effects slowly starting to hit you by the second. Your body felt light, but not to the point where you felt like you were floating or flying. It felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders that you didn't even know was there.

His tongue came out to swipe against your bottom lip, a silent request for entrance. You parted them for him as his tongue invaded your mouth. No fight for dominance as you let him do as he pleased.

You pulled away from the kiss, slightly out of breath, and pulled your shirt over your head. Revealing your bra underneath as JJ’s eyes went slightly wide and he bit his lip. 

“Smoking with me and sex in the Twinkie? Have I corrupted you?” He asked teasingly. You rolled my eyes and scoffed.

“You did that a long time ago.”

YOU ROLLED OFF OF JJ AND ONTO THE FLOOR OF THE TWINKIE—breathing heavy, stray pieces of hair frizzy and out of place, lips swollen and a blanket draped over your hot, sweaty bodies. Turning to JJ, he was in a similar state, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking out in ten-thousand different directions, some hickeys and scratch marks starting to take a dark pink color on his chest.

“Y’know-” He started, sitting up on an elbow to trace a finger up along your prominent collar bone. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks heating up and starting to ache. You were about to speak when the doors of the van flew open, your wild eyes flying to John B who stood at the foot of the van. 

“Oh shit.” He exclaimed, taking in the scene around him. You pulled the blanket up further, muttering a 'jesus' while JJ hissed a 'close the door man'.

John B shut the doors quickly as you looked around for your shirt and shorts, JJ handing them to you while trying to hold in a laugh. You took the clothes and shot him a glare. “Really?!” John B shouted from outside. “In my van? The Twinkie?! C’mon guys.”

Once you both were dressed and cleaned up your mess in the van, JJ opened the doors and motioned for you to jump out first, him following. John B was leaned up against the other side and pushed off to walk over to us as JJ shut the doors. 

“The others just got here.” He said, eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at you and JJ. “You two are disinfecting my entire van when we get back.” He turned around and stomped back into the Chateau, mumbling something under his breath and shaking his head in disapproval.

JJ laughed while fixing his shirt around and you elbowed his arm softly. “JJ! That was not funny.” You shook your head in slight embarrassment.

JJ looked at you pitifully and slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Aw, don’t worry, my little stoner. He’ll forget about it.”

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fanfiction

[queenvhagar]

At Driftmark, Jacaerys and Lucerys attack Aemond with a knife not out of a need for self-defense, like many will argue. Instead, Jacaerys draws the blade and Lucerys uses it to slash Aemond's eye out because of their desire for retribution for what Aemond said about them and their real father during the fight. It was wanting to hurt Aemond, not an immediate need to survive, that led to the blade being drawn and used on Aemond's face and eye specifically.

After claiming the world's largest living dragon, following years of being mocked for not being a dragonrider and continually risking his life to get a dragon, Aemond comes back to the castle pretty confident in himself. Before he gets to his room, a group of other four children, including two boys who made fun of him in the past, stop him. The girls physically attack him first, for having claimed Vhagar and for his confident, unbothered response to their words. After defending himself from these initial attacks, the boys join in. Even though he's a couple of years older than the other children, he is overcome by four people attacking him at once. At one point, he is pushed to the ground and relentlessly kicked and punched by all four children at once. Eventually managing to push the attackers back, Aemond finds and raises a rock, posturing that he will use it to defend against further attacks, and to hurt the boys back he mocks the boys for their true parentage and the recent death of their actual father, saying they would one day "die screaming in flames" like their father did (an objectively terrible thing to say, to be sure). However, once he realizes Lucerys doesn't know his true parentage, Aemond lowers the rock that he has held high.

It is at this point - rock lowered, bastard named - that Jacaerys pulls the blade that he brought with him. Despite Aemond lowering the rock and backing off, Jacaerys is angry, and he wants to hurt Aemond for what he said. In response to the drawn blade, Aemond knocks Lucerys back with his left hand and uses then uses the rock in his right hand to incapacitate Jacaerys and stop him from using the knife against him.

But Aemond is not dumb - in fact, in his first two episodes he has demonstrated that he has the most awareness of all the kids. Aemond shows that he understands the political advantage of Targaryens marrying sibling to sibling, the duty a prince has to serve the realm, and the importance of being a dragonrider as a Targaryen. He understood the potentially deadly, yet infinitely rewarding if successful, opportunity presented to him when he heard Vhagar, the dragon his grandfather claimed, calling out from the beach and nobody was there to stop him from going to her. Aemond has also doubtlessly heard his mother talk about their family's precarious political position, and he's observed the favoritism his father the king shows to his eldest daughter, the named heir to the throne. Aemond understands that there would be severe consequences for him (and potentially his family) if any serious harm were to come to any of Rhaenyra's own, so while he fights to incapacitate his attackers in the fight, Aemond knows that he cannot use the rock or any other weapon to seriously harm or disable Rhaenyra's sons even if he wanted to. So he uses the rock to knock down his armed assailant after a blade is drawn against him, and then he raises it a final time in question. Are they going to come at him again? If he were fighting to truly hurt, disfigure, or kill the boys out of anger or contempt at their parentage, Aemond could have pressed the attack immediately and used the rock against the boys. But at this point Aemond is only still fighting because the attacks keep coming at him. Instead, he stays where he is and raises the rock as a warning: come at me again and I will use this to fend you off. Having just become Vhagar's new rider, he already feels that he has won against the other children. He is unbeatable - there is no need for him to viciously attack the children while they're down to show that he has won the fight against them. He is older, he has a dragon, and he has withstood all of their attacks. At this moment, Aemond is waiting for their next move, whatever it may be.

If Rhaenyra's sons had yielded and stopped coming at Aemond at this point or any point before it, the fight would be done. Now, rock lowered, Aemond standing still, there is no immediate need for self-defense. Any further attack against Aemond could not be considered the boys defending themselves. But Jacaerys and Lucerys don't feel the need to defend their lives against a perceived imminent mortal threat. At this moment, they want to get back at Aemond. For claiming Vhagar. For hitting the girls back when they first came at him. For the blows Aemond landed back against them. And above all, for naming them as illegitimate and mocking their true father's death. They want to win this fight, and they want Aemond to hurt for what he said and did. That's the real reason Jacaerys draws the blade, and that's the real reason they do what they do next.

So it is then that the boys resume their attack, with Jacaerys throwing the sand at Aemond's eyes to disorient him and Lucerys grabbing the knife and slashing Aemond right across his eye. Not in the leg or the arm, which might have prevented him from fighting back again and ostensibly saved them from Aemond using a rock against them. No, Lucerys grabs the knife and slices up and across the entire side of Aemond's face, cutting his eye in the process. The goal of this attack is to maim and injure Aemond, not to save themselves from further harm by him.

And what is the fallout from this event? Aemond sees just how much danger his family is in when it comes to his father's preference for his eldest daughter and his eldest sister's willingness to defend her own at all costs. He sees his eldest sister, the heir to the throne, offer for him to be tortured so he would incriminate his own mother and have her punished for talking in private about the crimes that his elder sister has done and is doing. He sees his father the king turn on him and rage against Aemond, his mother, and his brother in front of the entire court about something everyone knows to be true but will not speak out loud. He sees that not only are his sister and her sons not the least bit regretful or apologetic for the serious harm and disability their own family member faces because of their actions, even years later, but also that absolutely no consequences will be felt by his attackers ever for their role in the confrontation because the truth of his eldest sister's crimes was mentioned by Aemond during the fight and that, in their eyes, justifies her sons deciding to use a knife to disfigure him in retribution. Because the king will support his eldest sister and her sons above all else, they can do whatever they want and get away with it, no matter who gets hurt in the process, because the king is weak and will not hold his daughter to any accountability for anything she or her children decide to do.

It's of course this pivotal moment all of the Greens but especially Aemond realize that his and his family's ultimate survival in the impending succession crisis is at the hands of people who could not care less about their well-being and safety. Little wonder that Aemond from this point trained to be the ultimate fighter. Who else would defend him and his family from something like this - or worse - that could happen in the future?

#aemond targaryen #team green #pro team green #anti team black #anti rhaenyra targaryen

[artificial-transmutations]

Your wish is my command

People knew when James approached pretty soon. Even with his 31 years, he still pretty much looked - and behaved - like the popular high school boy he used to be. He was loud, obnoxious and always surrounded by a group of friends - mostly his male buddies, but from time to time also one of his cardboard cutout girlfriends.

With his youthful looks and beautiful face, it wasn't very difficult for him to find a new girl - a fact he well knew and exploited. So, in general, his relationships rarely lasted longer than a few weeks or months until James got tired of his current girlfriend and dumped her for a new one.

Cathrine was one of them, a brunette smart girl who got picked up by James four weeks ago. Even though she quickly fell for him for his good looks and natural charm, she slowly felt annoyed by his constant bragging and immature behavior. However, she had agreed to let the group of friends hang out in her grandmother's antique shop this evening, a decision she started to regret already.

"Hey, look at these things. These are pretty weird, aren't they? What's this even supposed to be?"

"That's a gargoyle. They usually guard churches or the like. Or are supposed to bring luck." Cathrine explained.

"Hah! Bring luck. More like bringing ugliness. How is anyone supposed to see luck in that, huh?" James laughed and prodded the figure.

Catherine grimaced. "Honey, please don't touch anything. I had to promise grandma that nothing would be broken."

"Relax, Cathy, everything's fine! I'm not gonna break anything. Hey, do you think grandma would miss one of her creepy statues?"

"James, please!"

"Okay okay", he joked and looked around the shelves before something caught his eye.

"Hey, guys, check this out!"

He quickly stepped closer and, ignoring Catherines sigh, took the object from the blue pillow it was placed on.

"Cool! Is that a magic lamp, like from Aladdin?" he asked. Really, the brass object looked like a prop from the film. An old-fashioned oil lamp, with an oriental flair to it.

"Please, be careful with that. I don't know much about it, but I know it's an antique and really expensive."

"Yeah, yeah", James waved her off and continued to examine the lamp. By now his friends had gathered around him to watch. Giving them a show, he rubbed the lamp theatrically, but of course, nothing happened. Nevertheless, it brought him cheers and hollers from his buddies.

"The genie is just shy!", one of them joked.

"Oh, a shy one? Perhaps it's a genie lady that just needs some proper motivation?" James immediately agreed.

He raised the lamp to his face and made a kiss-face. "Don't be shy, miss genie! Oh, what is that?"

He held the lamp to his ear as if he was listening to a voice from inside.

"You want me too... what? Oh, you're being naughty miss genie! But I'm not complaining; your wish is my command!"

With that, James lowered the lamp to his groin and held it in front of his package. When he began humping the brass object, his buddies were already laughing tears. Catherine was a little annoyed on how immature James acted but couldn't help but smile as well.

What happened next, however, came as a surprise, not only for James but for Catherine and the guys, too:

In the span of seconds, James' body became engulfed in blue smoke. No, that wasn't exactly right: A more precise description was that James' body *became* blue smoke. It began at his hands, holding the lamp and quickly spread up his arms. The brass oil lamp fell to the ground as the blue smoke that had once been James' hands had not enough substance anymore to hold it.

But even dropping the item didn't stop the process. His entire upper body was turning into the ethereal blue smoke.

"Guys... Guys! What's happening?", he yelled out, but his buddies had no idea either. They were watching, perplexed, as James' body began dissolving. After a few moments, only smoke remained where moments before, James had been standing. Then, suddenly, the smoke was being sucked into the lamp, leaving James' friends and girlfriend behind in shock.

James found himself floating in twilight. He had been caught completely off-guard by his body dissolving into smoke, and he didn't have time to react or run away then. Now there was just... nothing around him. Gray twilight, and apparently no gravity surrounded him. There was some sort of light and air, but this world he now floated in lacked any point of reference whatsoever.

James checked his body, but apparently, it was alright. No sign of the blue smoke, just his regular body was hanging suspended in nothingness.

"Hello? Guys?", he tried, but nobody answered.

"Guys! Where are you?", he shouted out again, but the gray space just swallowed his words.

Suddenly, a tingling feeling ran over his body. When he looked down again, he noticed his clothes one by one fading away, until all that was left on him was his pair of underwear.

"What the fuck is happening to me?", he mumbled, a bit panicked.

The strange feeling he had only intensified however, as his very body was changing - again. However, this time, it didn't dissolve into smoke. Instead, it felt like his skin was stretching - or rather, the amount of his body was stretching. His limbs were growing and thickening, while his torso widened. At the same time, his skin became darker, reminding him more and more of a middle eastern heritage rather than his usual fair complexion.

His chest and arms ballooned out with muscle. It wasn't like he had been skinny or scrawny before - but now he didn't just look fit - he began to look more and more like a sort of body builder - one of those muscle bulls you only saw in TV or in the gym. His six-pack was becoming more visible, and his shoulders stretched wide and broad.

His legs, too, thickened and swelled, but that wasn't all. His thighs grew not just wide, but thick as well, and his calves became almost disproportionately large. Above all else, hair began to spread on his now darker skin. But it wasn't the blonde hair James was used to having on his head - it was coarse and thick hair that was dark and clearly visible on his muscular chest and arms.

At the same time, his haircut changed. While the hair on his head turned black as well, it became stylish, yet unlike anything James had tried before. The sides buzzed short and the top gelled up, he was beginning to look more and more like a young Arab hunk, perhaps from the Iran. As if on cue, dark stubble set in and covered his chin that was becoming squarer by the minute. James didn't have a mirror, but his fingers were exploring his new facial features in disbelief. As a final treat, his boxer shorts morphed into a tight pair of a simple blue fabric underwear that filled out as his manhood began to take more and more place, leaving behind his previous pretty average bulge and settling on a huge, almost obscene size.

The changes had finally stopped and James found himself suspended in the gray, twilight world, confused, scared, and sporting a very new look. He had never thought of himself as attractive before, but the changes he had just gone through had made him a prime stud.

However, he hardly had time to react, as he felt a pulling sensation all through his being. The scenery changed and he found himself back in the shop - but now, he was somehow floating a bit off the ground and looked down to one of his buddies, Greg, who held the lamp in his hand and had apparently just rubbed it.

"Whoa!", Greg exclaimed. "Who are you?"

"Guys, it's me, James!" James answered. "I somehow got sucked into the lamp thing and now your wish is my command, master."

A moment of silence followed and James realized what he just said. Despite his impressive muscular new body, the last words, which he had not meant to say at all, had sounded respectful and submissive.

"What is this bullshit? Who are you and what are you talking about?" Greg asked.

"I'm... I'm James" James stuttered. "And, apparently, your wish is my command. Just say 'I wish' and I will make your heart’s desire come true."

Again, James had only partial control over what he was saying. The last part had come out without him meaning to.

Greg was taken aback somewhat. "I wish...? I dunno. You're pretty gay like that!"

James only realized what was happening as he felt a mighty surge of power move through his body and heard himself say: "And so it shall be."

Did Greg just wish for James to be gay?! Luckily nothing seemed to be happening, until all heads turned as Catherine exhaled a low surprised moan.

James watched in horror as now her body was changing. Her breast flattened in a matter of seconds and her hair shortened to a stylish men's cut. At the same time, her body widened and her shoulders became broad. Her skin became rougher and little hairs spread all over her body. By the moment, her clothes were becoming too tight on a lot of places and too loose on some others. Catherine's face became a masculine version of itself, just like it would look like if she had been born a boy. Her nose was now strong and prominent, and her jawline was becoming stronger. Her face, too, was covered with a dark stubble that continued down her neck a bit before stopping at about where her now pronounced Adam's apple sat. When she let out another shocked noise, it was at least an octave lower than before.

Her new lean masculine look was completed by a bulge in her pants that quickly filled out with the last part of her new distinctively male anatomy.

At first, James had hated to watch Catherine's... No, Kit's feminine features melt away like that. But the longer he watched the better Kit looked, James decided. When his new cock popped into existence, James even felt himself get a bit hard from watching his lover. Kit was his soulmate, his one true love. James didn't care how gay it was - he liked men - and this man especially.

He turned back to Greg with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was happy about having Kit, but on the other hand, he was horrified about what was happening to him. He needed to beg him to stop!

But instead, all that came out was: "You have two wishes left, master."

Check out this awesome writer as well!

If you like my stories, you can use my riot page as a tip jar. There will only be tiny bits of exclusive content there, though, so it's mainly just that - a tip jar :)

#male transformation #straight to gay #muscle transformation #racial transformation

[ljh-writing-blog]

Batmom #2 - Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson was and is a force of nature. Brought to Bruce, and by extension yourself, as a child of only eight years old through suffering and death you felt yourself a kindred spirit. You were at Haley’s Circus that night, Bruce thought it would be a wonderful date. The night ended in tragedy, a stunt “gone wrong”. You only hoped the energies of the oldest Flying Graysons were at rest.

The worst part of the night was feeling everyone’s fear in the tent. Dick’s fear stood out to you, it was the strongest and you felt the immediate need to rid it from his small self. You didn’t hesitate to jump out of the stands and find him in the chaos. You made Bruce pull some strings so you could take him home, you didn’t care how but the boy was coming with you. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, leave him alone to some foster facility for however long it would take to find him placement. You would convince Bruce to take him in, if he didn’t you’d find your own apartment and care for him yourself. Diana always wanted more girl time and you knew she loved kids. All these contingencies ran through your head as you held him close, picking him up and taking him out of the tent. Taking him away from the horror and blood that stained the tent that night.

Bruce wasn’t the best father, truthfully he wasn’t much of a father in the early years. Alfred had been a big help and you stepped up to fill the mother figure role in his life. You stopped fighting crime on the daily, only joining the battle field when absolutely necessary. You had a few shifts at the Watchtower weekly but made sure they were while Dick was at school. You refused to let him sit in his grief alone, it wasn’t healthy. At times you overwhelmed him, he was so full of desolation and rage your love made him sick. He reminded you constantly you weren’t his mother, “My mother is dead! You’re just an expensive wanna-be replacement!” His words damaged your heart at times but you never let it show, not to him at least. Alfred spent many nights baking and drinking tea with you while you both discussed the day’s events. Sometimes it was just a few tears you both pretended not to notice, others it was much more difficult. The first year had been the hardest for all of you.

You weren’t sure if Dick finding the Batcave’s Grandfather Clock entrance was the worst thing that ever happened to your family or the best: it brought your boys closer, you and Bruce started talking again, it allowed Dick to move past his anger and grief, it also allowed him to embrace his trapeze skills and think of them positively instead of the negative left behind. Your son becoming Robin was probably the best thing for his mental health at the time. But it also brought bruises, cuts, concussions, forged doctors notes, and small bouts of what Bruce called a “Napoleon Complex”. It brought pain and death right back to your doorstep in ways you never thought possible.

When Dick found out you were a superhero, with what he liked to refer to as magic, he went crazy. He demanded a talent show and to see you in your suit. You indulged if only to see his smiles, he could light up a room with his grin. Using your mutation to lift him in the air sure wasn’t what he was expecting but it was definitely cool. Once you donned your suit Dick recognized you, his next request filled you with dread. “Y/N your powers are so cool! Can you show me my deepest fear? It’d be really cool to know…” He began rambling as you felt a pit form in your stomach. You never want to use those parts of your powers on anyone you love, especially the boy you live for. Bruce, who had been watching your little fashion show, recognized you tensing up and took over the conversation. “That’s enough for today, Chum. Your mother has had a long day and she’s very tired.” It was the first time Dick hadn’t objected to you being referred to as his mother. That day started a new chapter for your family.

Dick Grayson is a force of nature but you couldn’t imagine your eldest son any other way.

#batboys #batman #batmom imagine #batmom reader #batmom x bruce wayne #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #child!dick grayson #batfam x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #the batman #batfam x reader #batmom x justice league #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #scarlet witch batmom #batmom2

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what I meant by my post about the boys not appreciating Yuu enough is about the trauma they inflicted on them and the lack of compensation we get because trauma=not guilty.

We just let them get away scott free without them facing serious consequences and get little to nothing in return. I got inspired by this post https://rose-tea-and-strawberries.tumblr.com/post/720285231576465408/justiceforyuu

So what are your thoughts on this?

[Referencing this post!]

Mmm… 🤔 While I do think the post linked is an interesting read (and OP does make valid points), I think a lot of it goes back to the nature of TWST’s design vs what the individual desires. It’s very easy to self-insert (meaning everyone’s mileage with the characters and plot will vary greatly), and with it being a mobile gacha game, there are definitely some limitations and design philosophies that must be adhered to in order to keep content flowing and thus keep the game profitable.

However, I don’t agree with some of the points suggested (whether by OP or by Anon), particularly that TWST presents “trauma = not guilty” and that Yuu should somehow be “compensated” or given something in return for the troubles they went through. To the former point, I completely agree that the boys’ punishments are far too light for what they’ve done (in OB form). As for their behavior pre-OB (which is, admittedly, still shitty)… I mean, we came into this game knowing the characters are twisted from villains, of all things. We shouldn’t be expecting them to be Super Nice and Empathetic to begin with, no? (So of course Riddle will be insulting Yuu’s background and lineage, Trey’s a bystander, etc.) It doesn’t excuse the behavior of course (it’s still objectively bad), but I thought we came into TWST expecting it??? Like it’s a major part of the draw…

I also believe TWST does a decent job at explaining the OB boys’ trauma while not excusing them because of their trauma; funnily enough, a major theme in book 1 was Riddle being held accountable for his actions for once. (This isn’t limited to just his OB behavior, but rather extends to prior; he was clearly harming his own dorm members well before Yuu got involved with Heartslabyul.) The OB boys were eventually punished for their actions, but because the sentences are relatively light, that’s perhaps where the “trauma = not guilty” perception of the fandom comes from. As I said before though, I think this can easily be attributed to TWST being constrained by the mobile game format (ie it has to be snappy); the light novel is able to expand on the consequences in greater detail.

The game devs likely don’t want to linger on how badly the OB boys truly acted because that could hamper their bottom line (ie endearing the characters to us enough so we sympathize with them and spend money). If they keep demonizing the boys or continuously bring up their literal murder attempts when they were fully lucid and aware of themselves (Leona almost sanding Ruggie, Vil trying to poison Neige), it looks “too” bad on the characters’ part. We also can’t haul the boys off to serious rehabilitation facilities because they need to be physically present to return for the subsequent book—and, of course. You can say “they didn’t get punished severely enough”, sure. But what exactly would that “more severe punishment” being called for entail, especially without disrupting the current story’s flow and not harming the OB boys further in the process? There are practical real world game design and business reasons for this.

To address the Yuu should somehow be “compensated” part, well… I’m not entirely sure if I understand it?? Thinking about it logically, what “compensation” are we looking for? Firstly, no compensation, in my opinion, is worth the anguish that “earned” it in the first place. Compensation will never make up for the mental scars 😔 Secondly, it implies that people are “owed” something for the general bad attitudes they’re given on a daily basis, which is not in any way how real interactions work. Some people will just be assholes to you, and we have to deal with it and move on. In the cases of the OBs and some events (like being kidnapped and basically held hostage in book 4), yes, those are much more serious and should be treated as such. But again, what exactly are we looking for here as “proper” compensation? Is acknowledging one’s faults and mistakes, and saying sorry for it and working toward being “better” not enough? What about the money Vil gives in book 5; is that also not enough? Where do we draw the line? When is it finally “enough” compensation? It’s so poorly defined and there’s no “blanket” compensation that would satisfy everyone and anyone 💦 I would personally be happy just knowing that the other person is aware they’ve done wrong and are taking that vital first step to changing. That’s very difficult to do, especially considering the pride of the average NRC student, so I commend them for at least doing that.

TWST’s story isn’t one that focuses on condemning people for their flaws and errors, but giving them a chance to recognize their wrongs and to grow from them. Its story promotes restorative justice over punitive justice. Overly punishing measures and reparations have proven to not smooth over “bad behavior” in real life; it’s something people need to consciously and actively work toward, so of course it’s going to be a hard process.

The reaction(s) Yuu has to the events going on around them are only as serious as individual fan interpretation makes them out to be. Official depictions thus far (manga, game, light novel) have not strongly indicated that Yuu has had any extremely adverse thoughts or feelings regarding the treatment they’ve experienced at the hands of their peers or any stress related to not being returned home. It’s also not clear (especially in the game) just how much physical involvement Yuu has in battles. Because TWST itself does not frame or portray these events as having super serious impacts on Yuu, that also informs the fans that absorb this content (so they, in turn, will usually also not take the story’s impact on Yuu all that seriously).

The interactive medium of the game (which is the main form people absorb TWST content by) plays such a crucial role in how Yuu is portrayed. Because Yuu is so inherently tied to being the player’s avatar/self-insert, there are limitations to the overt nastiness Yuu takes and their involvement. The manga and the light novel feature new versions of Yuu, yes, but these interpretations are wholly separate from Yuu (the game one). The manga and light novel Yuus can be treated as their own characters and not self insert vehicles, therefore there is a degree of separation between the player and the manga and light novel Yuus. This is why the manga Yuus are more shown to be more active in the story (most notably getting involved in battles). This is why the light novel Yuu is shown receiving more bullying (from mob students) than is depicted in the game. The manga and light novel are NOT interactive mediums, and they don’t have to worry about potentially alienating or offending players who self insert as the game Yuu. Game Yuu is intentionally kept vague for this reason; we aren’t necessarily meant to interpret that game Yuu gets as involved or is treated as harshly as what other mediums depict.

I really don’t think we (the audience) are meant to interpret most of the things (game) Yuu experiences as being deeply traumatic or scarring. In most instances, Yuu is either ignored or they act very nonchalant about what’s happening (groaning or joking about how “oh, not this again!”). The worst injury I can recall Yuu ever getting is when Grim scratches them at the end of book 5. They barely even ever bring up going home or the worry of not being able to get home (not counting very early and very late in the main story when it is plot relevant, or the occasional event story to shoehorn Yuu’s presence in). The game in particular glosses over any potential negative ramifications on Yuu’s part because endearing the boys (who often are Not Nice) to the player is an important component of the gacha model. You can’t have the players despising the characters because that doesn’t encourage spending money to roll for them on banners or to throw money at merch.

I also want to add that many people make Yuusonas to have fun and to escape into a magical world (which is likely reflected in the nonchalance Yuu demonstrates toward going home for most of the story); it’s far more common to see these lighthearted takes because I can’t imagine many people want to self-insert being deeply traumatized by the same magical boys they’re likely big fans of. If you personally want to make or to see a Yuu that becomes traumatized and jaded from what happens during their time in Twisted Wonderland, then yeah! Go for it! All the more power to you. Just remember that this isn’t a universal take.

All of that being said, we come back to something I’ve said time and time again: since Yuu is such a blank slate, you get out of it what you put into it. This means every person’s individual interpretation of the events and how Yuu engages with and reacts to those events may differ wildly. It’s all in good fun, just try to be cognizant of canon vs fanon, as well as others (who may have very different interpretations of the same events and characters).

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #spoilers #Jamil Viper #Riddle Rosehearts #Trey Clover #Leona Kingscholar #Ruggie Bucchi #Yuu #twst en #twisted wonderland en #Neige LeBlanche #Grim #advice #twst manga #twst light novel #twisted wonderland light novel #twisted wonderland manga

[cravingsfromatwistedone]

Oh boy, request are open!

If this catches your interests, may I request the freshmen knowing that the five of them have a crush on the reader and they try to interfere with the other when one of the boys manage to get the reader alone for themselves and pull a move on her?

IMMOVEABLE OBJECT VERSUS UNSTOPPABLE FORCES [ FIC / FLUFF+ SLIGHT NSFW ]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I COULDN'T COME UP WITH A GOOD TITLE SO THIS IS THE ONLY THING I CAME UP WITH. I'M SORRY FOR THE MEMES... TW: SLIGHT NSFW AND SOME SWEARING

Well, this is an unexpected predicament

A transferred student from another world became the center of attention when she was enrolled in an all-male institution, especially how she manages to keep her herself afloat in a college full of talented and cunning magic wielding students. In the realm of Twisted Wonderland, magic tips the surface of survival. With no home and magic to rely on, she was placed at the bottom of the food chain; have no fear however!

With her close knitted friends she gained along the way, she pushes through every obstacle thrown into her and continues to stay alive! It's a classic trope of where the best of friends falls in love with one another after going through so much. But how does one handle five at once?

Each and every one of them vying for your attention, hoping that you would take notice of their profound love for you as it grows each time they spend time with you more and more; to the point where they'd wish that one day you'd suddenly be infatuated as they are. Alas, their wishes goes unheard by the beings above! Thus the only way to seize your heart is by pure determination and hard work! Maybe a handful of mischief to steer away the other suitors; it's in the name of love after all!

"Oi, (Y/N)!" Your name was spoken in a harsh tone by the redhead, fingers jabbing at your sides as his figure inched closer and closer to you; completely erasing any space you had with him "C'mon! You've been sticking your nose in those dumb papers for HOURS now! At this rate, I think I'm gonna grow white hairs with how slow you're writing-" You merely gave him a side glance before continuing your work which made the redhead pout. With a huff, the male enveloped his arms around your waist, your shoulder serving to be a cushion for his chin. You could only sigh and roll your eyes at his childish attitude, your hand far too busy jotting down answers from the library book you've borrowed; not once bothering to stop even as his grip on you tightened even more

"Ace, what are you- Hey!" The mischievous male had pulled away the library book before promptly slamming it shut; an audible thump resonated from the impact. Gradually, the book was held up into the air, bouncing from left to right to avoid you from ever reaching it. "C'mon and grab it already! Or you actually that slow witted, prefect?!" Grumbling under your breath, the book was so close in your reach, only for it to just be bounce away again; the notion clearly screams mockery to your entire being

"Stop playing around and give it to me!" This time, you stood up from your seat; catching the redhead off guard. You were sure that your fingers grazed the book but it seems like the male had the upper hand. Yes, he did momentarily loosened his grip but he never did released his arm around your waist. "Not so fast!" Regaining back composure, Ace was quick to pull you back down but in the process he had unintentionally forced you to sit on his lap; a bit too hard he think. Luckily you were too busy cursing him out! If only you could see how flushed his face was, he was praying that you wouldn't feel the rising tension in his pants; he'd never live it down!

"There you are, Pre-PREFECT?!" With a rough yank to the collar, Ace winced in pain before turning his head sharply to see the perpetrator; no other than Deuce Spade who's gritting his teeth in anger. "The fuck's wrong you?! My neck felt like it was about to snap into two with how hard you pulled my shirt-!" Without breaking eye contact, the blue haired male tugged your arm, effectively pulling your figure away from the scowling redhead "You!-Don't you have any respect for (Y/N)?! Just because you're one of her close friends doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!" Ace squinted his eyes to Deuce's words, brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you even on about?! We didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!"

#cravingsfromatwistedone #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #disney twisted wonderland #fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #answered #twst epel #twst jack #twst deuce #twst ace #twst sebek #nrc freshmen #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #epel x reader #jack x reader #deuce x reader #ace x reader #sebek x reader #epel felmier #jack howl #deuce spade #ace trappola #sebek zigvolt #n/sfw mention

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: another mention of a sharp object

Word Count: 1427 words

a/n: I stared at this chapter for a good while this week because it didn't feel right to me. I think it's better now, let me know your thoughts! <3 Also, the next chapter may be the season finale, but I'll let you know for sure when I finish the first draft of it. Happy reading! :) <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 10

It had been a few days, and you were still unconscious. Dr Kim Namjoon along with his associates Dr Min Yoongi and Dr Jung Hoseok continued to monitor your state. They were able to extract the poisonous mixture from your system, but it was unclear when you would awake. The boys would never leave your room, opting on a daily rotation schedule to divide their time between being with you and taking care of your place.  

Currently, Yunho was on duty. As he sat at the side of your bed, gently rubbing the top of your hand and placing chaste pecks now and again, he thought about the first time he met you.

After getting knocked over, Yunho was ready to file a case against all of you for emotional duress. He tried signaling Seonghwa for help but his friend seemed to be lost in his own world. Yunho planned to include him in his complaint when he filed it.

“Ughhh…” he groaned loudly.

He heard a soft gasp from a foreign voice, and before he could process it, there you were towering over him with a look of worry.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! My friends are a bit clumsy. Are you alright? Here let me help you.” 

“Excuse me, we are not your friends, the word you’re looking for is mates.” Mingi groaned.

You rolled your eyes and proceeded to help Yunho first. When Yunho grasped your hand, there it was. A feeling of home. It felt invigorating and intoxicating all at once. As he tried to find his balance, he was now towering a bit over you. But that’s okay, because all the pieces fit perfectly.

However, the moment was interrupted by Hongjoong.

“Help…” Hongjoong squeaked.

In the present, it had been so long since Yunho held your hand. He hated himself so much right now for what he was a part of and did to you. And when he can finally make it up to you, you are in a hospital room, still unconscious. Like Wooyoung, Yunho would also give the benefit of the doubt. He was aware Lila didn’t have any close family or friends and as a result, he tried to be welcoming.

However, in contrast to the others, Yunho did not let anyone in easily. He saw her as an acquaintance but he didn’t see her as a friend or a close one. There were times when it seemed like she was trying to get a little closer than he liked but before he could say anything, Hongjoong brought up that she was just trying to make herself feel at home. 

Yunho didn’t want to be insensitive but he much preferred being with you on the days Lila was around a little too much for his liking. If only he had listened to his gut.

“Angel…” he whispered, “You have to come back okay? You have to come back soon. The rest of them are so worried, and I need you to be there with me so we can make them feel better, hm? Just like we always do…”

Yunho continued to trace circles on your hand mindlessly while he processed the recent events. Something didn’t feel right. Rogues were rash and would try to instigate chaos at any given time but this felt more like a coordinated and planned attack. 

When he turned towards the door, there was Hongjoong outside. Yunho wanted nothing more than to punch him so badly for his disappearing and then reappearing out of nowhere act. He rose slowly from his seat, delicately resting your hand down, before rushing out to confront the leader.

"Where were you!?" he snapped.

"I had something to do and I'm here to make things right."

“How? How can you possibly make things right Hongjoong? First off, I don’t know how you can come back from what you did and said, secondly, you just vanished after that stunt you pulled, after our mate was attacked and now you’re telling me you’re going to make it right!? This isn’t a game Hongjoong!”

Yunho’s words pierced through Hongjoong like a knife, very deeply and slowly, leaving behind a nauseating ache that felt like it would never end and seared throughout like a scorching fire, unable to be put out. Yunho is always kind and always trying to be the peacemaker for the group, it would take a lot for him to snap and get angry. 

At least that was something Hongjoong could say he did - he made Yunho angry.

“It was my mother,” Hongjoong blurted out, “She hired a rogue to attack Y/N.”

“What!?” Yunho yelled, he felt like he was going to be sick, “You can’t be serious!”

“I wish I was lying…anyway, there’s something I need to do, and well, I need you to tell Seonghwa he’s in charge until further notice.”

“Until further what? Hold up, Hongjoong what on earth are you going to do?”

“I’m going to fix it as best as I can.”

“Look,” Yunho massaged his temples, “We’re all mad at you but you can’t just disappear on us like that and expect us to be okay with you going off on your own to deal with your mother. We’re mad at you and some of us would love to punch you right now, but we’re still a pack and we’re still each others’ mates. So let me come with you.”

“No Yunho, I need you to stay here with Y/N and protect her. I don’t know what is currently running through my mother’s mind but it’s nothing good. I can handle myself. Just trust me.”

“I’m sorry Hongjoong but I think it’s clear I don’t, and if I were to tell everyone about this, they would be even more furious.”

“Listen,” Hongjoong sighed trying to control his tears that were threatening to spill, “I should’ve stood up to my mother a long time ago. Instead, I just tried to wave her off and never put her in her place especially when she started to take things to another next level. If I did, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Now she thinks that she’s been completely in the right this whole time and has developed a mindset to the point where she wants to get rid of all of you and make me marry Lila and join both packs. I’m not going to let that happen, this pack, whether you believe it or not, means everything to me. Each and every one of you is important to me, and I’m not going to let her destroy it and take it away from me.”

Yunho looked at Hongjoong and didn’t know what to say. He saw the resolution in Hongjoong’s eyes amidst the brimming tears. This is the Hongjoong he knew, not the one at the cafe, this one - the caring leader, the one who, although he doesn’t show affection often, you can see it in his eyes and smile as he watches on — completely enamored with the family he has. This is Hongjoong, who would risk his life for his pack and for his mates. 

Before Yunho could respond, Hongjoong hugged him tightly before whispering, “Tell Y/N I love her. I always did and always will.”

In the meantime, you found yourself in a world that was not yours. Wherever you were, you found yourself inside an abandoned building, witnessing Hongjoong fighting for his life, trying desperately to take out as many rogues as he could. But ultimately, he was getting overpowered and without warning,  a blade plunges right into him from behind and he collapses and struggles to stand up. A menacing rogue smiles wickedly before delivering the final blow.

“NO!” You screamed, “No no no!! HONGJOONG! Get up! You have to get up!!”

Your shouts and screams dwindle and begin to grow faint as the scene before you starts to fade as you try to reach for Hongjoong. You find yourself peeling your eyes open slowly, the monitors beeping steadily in your ears in the dimly lit room. 

Your dream immediately resurfaces in your mind and you begin to panic. Rising from your spot on the bed, you glance around the room before deciding your next course of action. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you’re going to anyway.

Finding some spare clothes of one of your mates in a duffel bag on the chair, you change quickly and begin to tiptoe slowly out of the room, carefully scanning for any spectators. 

You set out determined to find Hongjoong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf @dementedaly @thunderous-wolf @itsmeregan @cookiechristie @hyukssunflower

#ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez series #poly!ateez #ateez fluff

[hells-plaid-angel]

Dean had the lung capacity of a deep-sea diver. After years of holding his breath as he drove through tunnels, he'd honed the skill, only gasping for breath when the Impala's windshield broke through the darkness and into the light. The habit had formed as a child but lingered into adulthood as most childhood fantasies did.

As a boy, his father raised him on superstition. If you made a wish when the world was swallowed by blackness and you could hold your breath until the end of a tunnel, that wish would come true. Over the years he'd wished for a hundred stupid things. He'd wished his mother was still alive, that he lived a normal life or that a pretty girl would look his way. He'd wished his father had been the one who'd died in the fire. He wished he didn't feel that way.

Once Dean had blacked out in the backseat of the Impala when driving the I-90 through Boston. He'd come to with Sammy squealing like a stuck pig and John Winchester cursing like a sailor. For the next year, being in Massachusetts made him feel light-headed.

Kids and old men are similar in their love of rituals. Dean was no longer a child, but he wasn't ready to call himself an old man. The ritual had changed over the years, but at its heart, it was always the same.

Dean found his new ritual each night he woke from a nightmare. That night, he found himself in the bunker. The image of his hands covered in blood lingered in the darkness of the room. He held his breath wishing for the dream not to be true. He only breathed when he switched on the lights and found his hands clean. In his dreams, Cas was always dying.

The nightmares weren't helped by the fact that the angel had died, numerous times. His sleep-addled mind took time to sort fact from fiction. Had Cas come back this time?

Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that death didn't always stick. Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that the universe liked to make him suffer. Both statements were equally true.

In the nightmare, Cas had died in his arms. He'd awoken, held his breath, switched on the lights and choked out a breath, which sounded suspiciously like a sob. When the drowning feeling reseeded he found himself exiting his bedroom, searching for the object of his nightmares as a drowning man searches for land.

Dean would never admit to himself he was looking for Cas, but the knowledge was there. There were many things Dean knew but wasn't ready to admit.

Dean found the angel in the library of the bunker, absentmindedly flicking through ancient texts and Sam's collection of trashy fitness and lifestyle magazines indiscriminately. A heavy weight on his chest dissipated. Cas looked up at Dean's sharp inhale. He could breathe again.

"Hello, Dean," the angel greeted, as though he were late to some prearranged meeting.

"Morning, Cas," Dean spoke, for lack of a better topic of conversation. He collapsed into the seat beside Cas.

"It's currently 3:15 a.m. and the sun isn't scheduled to rise until 5:25."

"Thanks for the weather report, buddy," Dean griped. His tone lacked the usual exasperated edge he used when Cas said something that struck him as particularly alien, which was often.

"How are you, Dean? You seem... unmoored."

People in the twenty-first century didn't use words like 'unmoored'. Dean knew exactly what Cas wasn't saying. Dean seemed upset. If there was one thing Dean didn't cope well with, it was being anything less than 'fine'. They were experts in each other's pathology, which would always feel strange. Dean wasn't used to being known.

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean had been working on the concept of denial. However, avoidance was fair game.

"If I'm going to be staying here long term, I want to buy better magazines," Cas stated, tossing the magazine haphazardly. He'd been staying for longer than usual. Dean kept feeling like he was holding his breath, waiting for the angel to disappear.

"We can drive into town come morning. Need to clear my head anyway."

"You haven't been sleeping well," Cas observed, his eyes shifting their attention to Dean. The blue-grey eyes said more than his words. His eyes were an ocean to an inexperienced swimmer. Not everyone could read them. Dean could. There was something more to them. A strong rip beneath steady water. There was a storm raging beneath the surface.

"It's creepy that you've noticed that," Dean remarked.

"You haven't been very quiet."

Dean wondered how much Cas heard. Did he talk in his sleep? Did he call out Cas' name in the night? Had the angel heard the moments of weakness where Dean had let himself muffle sobs behind his hand?

"This isn't changing the subject."

"I've been changing the subject all week. Evidently, it's not working," Cas' voice was resolute.

He and Dean shared their stubbornness, which always led to unproductive stalemates. They were two bucks with their antlers interlocked, starving and trapped in their own idiocy.

"The thing about being human, Cas, is that things don't magically just get fixed because you want them to." Dean rebuked.

"I'm aware, but have you actually tried to fix it?"

They were fighting. Why were they fighting?

"Talking never really solved much in my line of work. You know that."

"Is this about work?" Cas questioned.

They hadn't had any difficult hunts in weeks. Cas knew it wasn't about the job. He wanted Dean to know he knew.

"It doesn't matter what it's about. That's not the point. You don't get it." Dean felt the truth pushing its way up to the surface.

"Then help me understand."

"The problem —." Dean began before he felt anger or frustration choke the words from him.

"The problem is you keep dying."

He'd expected Cas to baulk at the confession. Dean wasn't one for sharing fears or feelings. What he hadn't expected was the look of horror that settled on the angel's face.

Dean scowled and scrubbed at his cheek, quietly cursing himself when his palm pulled back wet. Over the years, he'd gotten good at crying quietly. He hated that he was able to hide it from himself. Men didn't cry. Dean didn't cry. It was a lie, not so much a superstition, but a fable. A story he told himself.

"Dean I — I didn't realise my death... affected you so much. I apologise for the oversight," Cas spoke slowly, as though deliberately choosing each word with care.

How the hell could Cas not know his death, every goddamn one, hurt Dean? Cas was family.

"Yeah, well, I pegged you for a lot of things, Cas. Stupid wasn't one of 'em. So just... Be careful. I'm going to bed," Dean mumbled, praying for a quick exit.

Cas grabbed Dean's arm as he passed, stilling him. Dean felt the restriction return to his throat. He held his breath. He wished Cas knew what he meant without having to say it out loud.

Neither man spoke. The silence stretched long and loud between them. Cas clung to Dean's arm like a dying man to a life raft. For his part, Dean was just trying to stay afloat. Slowly, almost imperceptibly so, Cas' palm slid down to hold Dean's hand. Dean let him, which was as good as a confession.

There would be no confessions. A confession implied guilt, something that Dean had in droves, but not about Cas. It wasn't a lie so much as it was a fable. If a story was told long enough it became history.

He and Cas were still in the dark, biding time between apocalypses. He wished that when they finally found themselves in brighter times, there would be no need for confessions.

#destiel #ficlet #spn #dean winchester #deancas #supernatural #castiel #cas #drabble #long post #destiel drabbles #fic #guess who's back #getting together #my supernatural hyperfixation has returned with a vengeance #extended metaphors aplenty #this was vaguely based on me rewatching #episode 4x16 On the Head of a Pin #and thinking if later season Dean cried in front of Cas #like early season Dean did it would both break and fix them #in my head I'd put it sometime post season 12 #but I'm not picky

[shadesslut]

a father's malice, pt. 4

Pairing: (Ex-Gf!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader x Chad Meeks-Martin)

Content Includes: (Angst, blood)

Summary: Ethan goes to the one place he feels accepted

Masterlist

✮

✮

✮

The noises of chattering college kids made Chad’s knee bounce anxiously. Even in his dorm, he could hear the loud conversations his suitemates were having. Harsh white lights made his head hurt, and the plastic chair he sat in at his desk caused his lower back to ache. He didn’t look like it, but he hated being around new people. He never really had a best friend since, well, not since Wes. Only a handful of circle jerk assholes who only tolerated him for his looks. For a year he’d been on edge, so that’s why when a curly-haired brunet entered the room abruptly, he jumped.

He looked nice enough, but still, Chad was cautious. The brunet jumped as he saw Chad. He was easy on the eyes, nice looking. He held a cardboard box and wore a beat-up Jansport backpack. 

“Hi.” He croaked out, his voice straining. Chad nodded at him, and the brunet awkwardly shuffled closer into the room. He looked at Chad’s bed, then his, and set his box down on it, dust slowly puffing up. “Guess this is my side,” 

Chad swiveled back in his chair, taking a deep breath as he stared at the chipped surface of his wooden desk. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled, exhaled, and stood up. He put on his chipper smile, eyes not quite matching. He stuck out his hand to the other boy. “I’m Chad, it’s Ethan right?” 

Ethan let out a breathy laugh of relief and nodded. “Y-Yeah, Ethan.” He responded, taking Chad’s hand in a firm shake. Chad’s eyebrows furrowed as he confusedly reacted to the rough, strong hands Ethan had. And for a split second, he had hope of making a new friend. 

—

It was almost nine, and Chad had finally reached the point of relaxation with Ethan that he stopped checking his phone for texts from Mindy. He learned a little about Ethan; he liked old cheesy movies like Star Wars, he loved ketchup, and he had something in common with Chad. 

Home didn’t have a lot of good memories.

Chad had set his laptop on his desk, which now sat towards the middle of the room after two hours of Ethan and Chad rearranging the furniture. Their beds pointed towards each other, and every so often Chad would check to see if Ethan was watching the movie playing. 

“So do you know anyone that goes here?” Ethan asked before stuffing his mouth with a handful of fries. Chad readjusted in his position, putting his arm under his pillow as he laid on it. 

“My sister Mindy, and our friend Y/N.” He answered, purposely not mentioning. Sam and Tara. “She’s on the third floor.” 

Ethan nodded, returning his gaze back to the movie. “I got a sister too.” He mumbled. Chad lifted his head up at him.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, she’s back at home.” 

Chad hummed softly. “Close with her?” 

Ethan smiled to himself, reconciling childhood memories of playing with his sister. “Yeah, she’s older than me. Really like, protective of me y’know?” 

At this point, neither of the boys were watching the movie. Only quietly admiring each other as they asked each other questions. “That’s how I am with my sister.” Chad stated.And maybe that’s how they’d be with each other. Ethan smiled at his comment, but it quickly faded. 

They sat in silence for a moment, their breathing matching the other’s. Ethan huffed as he sat up on his bed, making Chad slightly sit up. “Where you going?” Chad asked. 

Ethan smiled defensively at him, and then he pointed towards the bathroom door. “Gotta take a leak,” Chad snickered at his answer, checking his phone. Ethan laughed as he jumped off his bed, eyes widening at the sound of a metal object clanking onto the floor. Chad immediately sat up, looking at the source of noise. 

A push-button blade sat on the tiles of the floor. Chad tensed, but he just brushed it off as his anxiety pushing his buttons. Ethan, however, looked incredibly nervous. “It was my dad’s,” Ethan coughed out, bending over to retrieve it. “He gave it to me cause y’know, New York! Crime!” 

Chad laughed nervously, but Ethan didn’t give him time to answer, quickly stepping inside the bathroom. Chad didn’t think too much of it, he never expected Ethan to be the type of guy who could practice self-defense, let alone stab anyone. But you know, maybe he didn’t know the guy. 

—

Chad had truly considered Ethan to be his best friend. Even after one of the Ghostfaces stabbed him with the same blade Ethan had dropped that first night in their dorm, he still felt that way. Ethan was his best friend.

It hurt him more when Tara confirmed his suspicions of Ethan in the hospital after. Nine stab wounds to the chest, internal bleeding in his organs, and the one thing that hurt the most was finding out who Ethan really was. He let Y/N spend the night in his room that night, and even though he knew she probably knew about his feelings for Ethan, he felt safe with her.

She told him she was pregnant, and then she asked him if they'd stay friends. Chad didn't have to think to answer.

It was weird; falling in love with Y/N while still having feelings for Ethan. It was weirder helping her raise her and Ethan's son, but at the end of the day it helped him sleep at night. On Chad's worst nights, when he watched those old cheesy movies Ethan liked, when he wore one of Ethan's shirts, thinking of Y/N and Ollie helped him fall asleep.

After awhile, he'd had enough. He turned his love for Ethan into hate, and maybe that wasn't the healthiest option, but it was the one that felt the most good.

When he burned Ethan's shirt he wore to bed, he told himself never again. Never again would he open up to Ethan.

—

It was late, Ethan was tired and irritated, sitting on the dusty wooden floors of the bookstore. Mary held a mug of coffee in her hands, matching pajamas hugging her skin. Ethan’s hands ran through his messed up curls. 

“I’m sorry, again, I know this has been weird.” Ethan apologized for the umpteenth time. Mary straightened her posture and adjusted her glasses. He’d been there for two days, ignoring the buzzing of the incoming calls from Y/N and Chad. 

“I just didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Did she kick you out?” Mary asked softly, trying her best to hide her smile. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you, since you know,”

Ethan stared blankly at his shoes. 

“You’ve been crying on my couch for the past few days.”

Ethan sniffed as he threw his head back, resting it on the bookshelf behind him. His eyes were teary, and he choked out a sob as he shook his head. “I’m too dangerous to be near her, near my kid.” 

Mary listened quietly.

“I’m scared I’m never gonna change. I’ll always be this, this monster. I hate that I have so much malice in me; everyone I see that has the slightest chance of hurting them, I just wanna hurt them.” Mary leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she listened carefully. 

“I think up ways,” He started, voice shaky. “Ways to get rid of people, and ways to hurt them.” 

“What’s wrong with being a monster?” Mary asked, interrupting him. Ethan jerked his head towards her, looking for an ounce of unseriousness; it was not there. There was a lingering feeling in the air, something uneasy. Ethan stared at her as if she was the most unique thing. There was no sign of uncomfortableness shown on her face, not even a twitch at the corner of her lips. 

“I know you were the one who bailed me out.” Ethan stated, ignoring her previous comment. She blinked, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“How did you-”

“I put two and two together.” He interrupted. “When you showed me your shrine, and when you didn’t ask about me being released. It was you, right?” 

She slowly nodded, Ethan following after. 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you Ethan.” She admitted. She swallowed nervously as she waited for his response. It was a remark Ethan should’ve felt safe with, but his worry only grew. He knew what he was, what he did, and yet Mary treated it like it was as miniscule as a robbery. Ethan dryly chuckled. 

“I really don’t, Eth.” 

Ethan’s fingers twitched, and his brows furrowed. Only two people were ever allowed to call him that. 

“I think you only wanted justice for your brother. There’s nothing wrong with that. I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your shoes. I think you’re really special.” Mary continued to rant, not having a clue that Ethan was fuming not five feet away from her. 

He stayed silent as she talked, and his hands itched to reach for the push-button blade in his back pocket. He wouldn’t know who his victim would be, him or Mary. 

“Maybe it would’ve been easier if she died, you know?”

“What did you say?”

Silence. Silence took over both of them as Ethan stared, eyes wide at her. His eye twitched as he physically held himself back from leaping over to her and stabbing her. “I just mean- I know you tried to kill her, I saw the photos. Wouldn’t it have been better for you if you didn’t have the burden as well?”

“‘Burden’? You mean my son?” Ethan seethed through gritted teeth. He started seeing red again, just like earlier that night. Red, hot emotions coursed through his veins as he thought about Ollie, as he thought about Y/N, as he thought about Chad. No one else mattered. It was only them for Ethan. He knew he would hurt anyone who hurt them. 

“I didn’t mean that.” 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Ethan muttered as he stood up. He stumbled a bit as he fully stood up, Mary was quick to stand up alongside him, helping him keep steady. Ethan jerked his arm away from her, stomping away towards the door. He had his hand on the door handle before Mary stopped him. 

“W-Wait, I’m sorry, don’t go.” She pleaded, placing her hand on his wrist. Ethan breathed heavily as he looked down to the contact. He slapped her hand away, barely opening the door before he felt her hands reach for the knife in his back pocket. He didn’t have time to react, before she swung the blade and stabbed herself in her thigh, lightly squealing as she did so. Ethan’s eyes widened at the action.

“What the fuck?” He yelled at her. Blood seeped through her pajama pants as the knife stayed plunged in her leg. She lightly smiled as she stared, feeling her adrenaline rushing through her. 

“If you leave, I’ll tell them you did this.” She threatened. The probability of them believing her over Ethan, knowing what he’s done, was more likely. Just because of that, Ethan had no care of what he would do in that exact moment. He lunged towards her, tackling her to the floor, causing her to grunt in pain. She kicked and thrashed as Ethan pinned her down, yanking the knife out of her thigh. She screamed in pain, not realizing the extent of what Ethan would take. 

A surge of emotions, familiar and unfamiliar, flooded Ethan’s mind as he raised the knife above his head. He saw Y/N on the floor below him, bloody and beaten. He saw Chad spewing out blood from his mouth as he cried. He hated it; he used to love the feeling killing gave him, but now, it only reminded him of all the hurt he caused the two people he loved the most. He let out a defensive yell, fully ready to swing the knife down into Mary’s soft, tender throat.

He hesitated. For a split second he hesitated and he saw Y/N again. Her teary eyes looking up at him on the ground, shirt stained with dust and blood. She was back in the theater, and so was Ethan.

“Do it.” She whispered. 

His confused expression put his mind in a haze. A tear rolled down his cheek, running down to his neck. He felt soft, alluring hands run up his back. He slightly turned his head, gasping hoarsely as he heard Y/N’s voice repeat the command in his ear. 

“Do it.”

She snaked her hand to his jaw, turning his head back to look down at Mary. He let out a choked sob as his eyes hovered over Mary. Chad’s screams echoed through his head, and Y/N dug her nails into Ethan’s shoulders. 

Mary laid there, on the dusty floors of the bookstore, knife punctured in her chest. Her once feminine and white pajamas are now stained with crimson. He sobbed and thrashed his body away from hers. The echoing of Y/N’s whispers and Chad’s screams made Ethan cover his ears with his palms as he banged one of his fists against his forehead. 

He sat in that same position for thirty minutes before leaving. He told himself he’d take care of her body the next day, but right now, for his own sanity, he needed to see Y/N and Chad. Make sure they were alive, just in case. 

Ethan was met with an obvious “I’ve been crying for two nights straight” Y/N after knocking once on the apartment door. Her eyes were red and puffy, yet she was a sight for sore eyes for him. Immediately he was met with a cautious, but loving embrace. 

She didn’t ask him anything, not where he was or what he had done, but somehow, deep down she knew. Chad was in her bed, with a solemn expression.  Maybe the old Ethan would’ve seen red at the sight, but all he wanted to do was jump in the bed and sleep. 

They didn’t ask about the small blood stains on his fingertips. Nor did they ask about why Ethan’s hands shook as he lifted the covers. He laid in between them, looking over at Ollie’s crib to see him peacefully sleeping. Resting his head back onto the bed, he felt Y/N curl up next to him. 

The fear and worry left his body as he felt her, really felt her, for the first time in a year. Ethan slid his hand near Chad’s, causing Chad to look at him. 

“I’m sorry.” Ethan whispered to him, moving his hand back. Chad grabbed his retreating hand, and  he held it in his own. 

“It’s okay.” He responded before closing his eyes again. Both of the boys’ hearts heated slightly faster, knowing the exchange wasn’t about Ethan’s touch.  He’d do better, he told himself. He’d do better for them.

(Taglist: @onlyreadz @lloyd907 @hearts4meeks @emitaylorsverson @depressedseaweed @athenalive @b3bybunny @aliciacat20 @whoaitsbibi @fallinforhappiness @Dabbin22 @leyla-1905 @sflame15-blog @i-love-milfs2 @zerodotzer0 @ahalliwell5 @gabbylovesreading @wishyouwere-sober @leaveitbythewave @itsnotino @elltheawkward @writinganything @buffhoshi @reysdriver @asapkyndall @champomiel @afro-hispwriter @ggothfirlcliquee @dellykins88 @halforangecuts @an0nymous-sm4t @yookayyo @arabellasolstice @justanotherkpopstanlol)

(a/n: Also if your name is in bold above, I am unable to tag you! If you still want to be tagged DM me or comment so I can find a way to tag you:) )

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ghostface x reader #ethan kirsch #chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #ethan landry fluff #chad meeks x ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n

[octoberclidan]

Let It Out

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Note: this wasn't requested, this is just purely self indulgent. It's basically just my thoughts right now but in a world where Dean's there. I'm feeling kind of sad and just needed some Dean comfort, so this all came out in the space of an hour or so. There are most likely mistakes, but it did its job and I feel better now so I don't really care 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] sat at one of the tables in the bunker's library, she had a selection of the library's books on vampires laid out in front of her. Sam and Dean were out on a vampire hunt, but she'd decided to stay back this time. The Winchesters were the best hunters she'd ever heard of, and they'd taken her in not too long ago. She had been a hunter nearly all her life too, and she was good, just maybe not as good or as well known as the brothers. For the most part, [Y/N] was happy with her life. She was good at what she did, she saved lives, made the world a better place one monster at a time. Other hunters always complimented her when they worked together, she was knowledgeable, people looked to her for advice and valued her opinion on hunts. She lived with her two best friends, who she held very close to her heart. She loved staying up late researching with Sam, and she loved having Scooby Doo marathons with Dean. She lived in a warded, almost impenetrable bunker filled with all sorts of secrets, the answers to any supernatural question within her reach. Objectively, she had it pretty good.

However, she'd been struggling a little bit recently. Nothing that would make the boys notice, she wasn't really one to talk about her feelings, much like Dean in that regard. Just... little things. She wasn't anyone's first choice. Dean would always choose Sam, Sam would always choose Dean. Everyone she knew had their own person; someone who they'd choose over anyone else, someone they loved the most, someone they cared for the most, someone they couldn't live without. No one she knew had her in that position. [Y/N] didn't really have anyone in that position either. As she sat at the table, books at the ready in case one of the boys needed something, she wondered about who she would choose if she had to. Not even in a life or death situation, but say if they both called her at the same time. Would she really choose one over the other every time? Would she always answer Dean first, or always answer Sam first? Would it make a difference? She wasn't even sure if she really cared anymore.

Apart from that, she also felt a bit not needed recently too. She knew Sam wouldn't need to call her to ask her about vampire lore, he'd killed hundreds of them at this stage. Dean, having nearly become a vampire himself at one stage, obviously didn't need lore help on a vamp hunt either. He knew how to chop heads off. They didn't need her out there either, the two of them were more than enough to take down what sounded like a small nest themselves. She actually felt a little bit stupid, sitting there with the books out, phone sitting on the table after she'd double checked it wasn't on mute. They weren't going to need her for this. She hadn't received a notification at all since the previous night when Dean had sent her a quick 'made it to the motel, be back in a few days' text. She'd sent the boys a text earlier that day to tell them to let her know if they needed anything. They'd both read it. They hadn't responded. Of course they didn't need anything, not from her, they were the Winchesters.

She sat there staring at the old pages from the book she had open right in front of her, not taking anything in, just letting these thoughts go round and round in her head. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to justify feeling sad. She had everything she needed, nothing bad had happened. No one had said anything mean to her. She had no right feeling sorry for herself about not being Dean Winchester's number one priority. Still, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to different scenarios. What if she decided to just up and leave? Live on the road like she used to, go on solo hunts or meet up with a different hunter in every city. Would the boys ask her to come back? Or would they just wish her well, an 'it was nice having you, call us any time' sort of deal? She wasn't family, she wasn't like Cas, or Bobby. She wasn't even like Jody or Donna, she hadn't known them that long. She'd only ended up living in the bunker because she didn't have a place of her own, and Sam had suggested she take a room there after they'd gone on a few hunts together. The domesticity of her relationship with the boys was only out of convenience. The movie nights, late night celebrations at the bar, research days, game nights, long drives... they'd all go on whether or not she was there.

It was 2am when she realised her eyes were slightly stinging, dry from her blank staring, slightly aching from her effort to not give in to the sadness and start crying. Her back felt a bit stiff from sitting in the hard chair for hours too. She grabbed the book right in front of her and migrated to the couch in the back of the library, moving almost in autopilot, the self pitying thoughts still occupying most of her mind. She lay down on her back for a few minutes, trying to stretch out and relieve some of the tension she'd built up over the course of the day. With a sigh, she rolled over to her side and propped her head up with her elbow, leaning on the armrest. She had the book open in front of her on the couch, and she lazily flicked through the pages, still not really taking anything in. The tiredness had taken over and her eyes had been long closed by the time her phone buzzed from the table.

***

"No answer?" Dean asked from the drivers side, and Sam shook his head. "Try calling her, we're gonna be passing the diner in about five minutes".

"Right, yeah I'll call her now". Sam lifted his phone up to his ear and waited, but it rang out, a familiar voice telling him to leave a message. "Nope, nothing".

"That's not like her, what time is it? 1? 2?" Dean began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he stopped at a traffic light.

"Just after 1pm, yeah. Maybe she's out and didn't bring her phone?"

"She never goes anywhere without her phone Sammy".

"Well maybe she's in the shower or something? Let's just stop in the diner anyway and pick up lunch, she always orders the same thing, we'll just get that". Sam watched as Dean's focus was glued to the traffic light, clearly ready to go as soon as it turned green. "Or if you're anxious about getting back, we can skip the diner". Sam tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he suggested this. He'd been looking forward to some food all day, having left their motel very early that morning. Dean had texted [Y/N] to tell her they'd finished up the hunt and were on their way home several hours ago, but she hadn't read it yet. Their plan was to stop in their favourite local diner on the way back and get some hot food for lunch, and Sam had texted [Y/N] to ask if she wanted anything, but she hadn't responded to him either, hadn't even read his text.

"I think we should just get back, you can go back out for food if you want". Dean floored it the second the light turned green, pushing Sam back into his seat. He looked at the determination in his brother's face and knew there was no point arguing. Dean hadn't said anything, but Sam knew how he felt about [Y/N]. She might not have noticed it, but Sam always caught Dean's lingering glances, the longing in his eyes as he listened to [Y/N]'s stories, the blush on his cheeks when she complimented him on something. Sam didn't know if they'd ever spoken to each other about something more than friendship, but secretly he shipped them. He knew [Y/N] would be good for Dean, she brought out a lighter side of him. He was more comfortable in his own skin around her, he was more enthusiastic about taking a break from hunting when she was there to spend time with, he was more likely to open up to her when something was on his mind. Sam was actually planning on asking [Y/N] about Dean, he wanted to see if he could get something started with them and he knew he'd probably have a better chance if he started with [Y/N].

"Yeah okay, sure". Sam pressed his hand onto his stomach to muffle the grumbling coming from it, and stared out the window as he watched the bunker come into view. As soon as Dean parked the car, he was out and taking two steps at a time down the bunker's staircase, immediately searching for [Y/N]. He went straight to her room, but the door was open and she wasn't in there. He checked the kitchen but she wasn't there either, and she wasn't in the Dean Cave. He called her name out as he wandered around the bunker, but there was no response. Working up into a bit of a panic, finally, he walked through to the library, noting the spread of books on the table. A soft snore brought his attention to the couch, where she was curled up, sleeping on top of an open book. His shoulders dropped in relief to see that she was okay.

He quietly walked over and crouched down in front of her, carefully slipping the book out from under her head. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, trying to see if she had a temperature. It wasn't like [Y/N] to be sleeping on the couch in the middle of the day, especially when she hadn't answered her phone from the morning either. His hand on her head stirred her, and her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on his face. "Hey Sweetheart". He gave her a smile and moved his hand from her forehead down to push her hair out of her face. "You feeling okay?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb her any more than he had to. If it was Sam laying there, he would've thrown something at him or poked him. He had a soft spot for [Y/N] though, he couldn't help it, he felt a need to be gentle with her. She slowly shook her head and looked away from him. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?" He asked but she shook her head again. "What time did you go to sleep at?" She shrugged.

"You didn't need me". She mumbled, glancing at the books on the table, and Dean watched as a tear trickled down her cheek, instantly causing his heart to ache.

"Sweetheart, there was only one vampire, I didn't even need Sam there. We were in and out in twenty minutes, that's why we're back so early".

"Only one?" She sniffed, still not making eye contact with him.

"Yeah, only one. Not the brightest either". He chuckled lightly.

"Oh, okay". She whispered.

"I need you, you know that". He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Is that why you didn't want to come on the case? You don't feel needed?". She bit her lip, trying to hide the fact that it was quivering, and nodded her head. "Okay. Come on, sit up for me". Dean gripped her shoulders and pulled her up into a sitting position before sitting down next to her. "I'm not Sam, so you know I'm not great at this sort of thing, but uh, do you wanna talk about it? About how you're feeling I mean". He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she shook her head. "That's okay, that's cool". He wasn't quite sure what to do other than just sit there with her, so that's what he did. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dean noticed that she was starting to lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder, and her breathing quite shaky. He knew she was crying, and he couldn't take it.

"Okay, come here". He took his arm back from around her shoulders and pushed himself off the couch, kneeling back down in front of her. Before she had a chance to ask what he was doing, he gently grabbed her waist and pulled her forward on the couch, her legs making room for him between them as he enveloped her in a hug. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, and he placed one of his hands on the back of her head, pushing it into his neck while he kept his other hand tight around her waist. "Let it out, I'm here".

She wasn't waiting for his permission, but as soon as he gave the command she lost all control and began to sob, her body shaking as she grabbed fistfulls of the back of his flannel, clinging to him. He just held her and ran his hands up and down her back. "You're okay, you're okay". He whispered into her ear as he brought a hand up to stroke her hair. "You mean the world to me, you make everything better, let me make you feel better too". He kissed her temple and pulled back slightly to look at her face once her shaking calmed down a bit and she'd caught her breath. "You tired?" He whispered and she nodded. "Okay, let's go". She didn't have time to react before he'd hooked his arms under her thighs and stood up with her, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. He kept his hands under her thighs as he began to walk, carrying her out of the library. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against the warmth of his neck, feeling the slight tickle of his stubble as he walked. She watched the library disappear behind them as he made his way towards the bedrooms, a small bubble of excitement taking over from the sadness as she watched him skip her room and push open the door to his.

[Y/N] had been in Dean's room before, but she'd never been in his bed. For all of his boasting about having the best bed in the bunker, he'd never shared it with anyone and had never let anyone try it. He reached down with her still in his arms to pull the covers back before laying her down, the softness of the memory foam instantly making her understand why he talked about his bed so much. She turned onto her side and she breathed in, calmed by the scent of his shampoo in the pillow. She looked up to him as he turned away to kick off his boots, and she watched in silence as he shrugged off his flannel and pushed his jeans down, leaving him in his boxers. It must have been an easy twenty minutes with the vampire, she couldn't see any new marks on him as she admired his back.

Dean turned back to the bed and sat down on the edge facing her. "Is this okay?" He asked as he looked to the space in the bed beside her. They'd only ever shared a bed once before, on a hunt when the motel only had one room left with two beds and no couch. Sam had taken one bed and had left Dean and [Y/N] to share the other. They'd both been a bit self conscious about it and had kept a distance between them, or as much a distance as the motel bed allowed. It was a bit awkward in the morning when they'd woken up face to face. Sharing a bed now was a choice, it was intimate, it was more than a hug or a shoulder to cry on. When she nodded, Dean lay down beside her and pulled the covers over both of them before pulling her over into his chest. "Wrap your arms around me". He murmured into the top of her head after gently kissing her hairline. She did as he said, and he shifted them so she was completely on top of him, her legs either side of his waist. He began to lightly massage the back of her neck with one hand while stroking her back with the other.

She'd stopped crying, and she gave herself permission to relax on Dean. She'd never felt so cared for before, so surrounded by affection. Dean's chest was warm, and even more comfortable than the memory foam mattress beneath them. She felt needed in this moment, like he wasn't doing this just for her. She felt like he was holding on to her like he needed it too, and he did. She felt safe, secure, and more than anything, wanted. They both knew that in this moment, their friendship had changed. It was no longer just friendship. They knew they'd have to talk about it in the morning, but for now, the two of them just enjoyed each other, holding onto one another until they drifted off to sleep.

The end

#supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean x y/n #dean winchester fic #dean winchester supernatural #dean fluff #sad reader #spn comfort #comfort #spn fluff #supernatural fluff #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn reader insert #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Scream Three Times

[Part 1/2] [Part 2/2 (smut)]

Synopsis: You didn't think you had a chance at Billy or Stu's affection, but one night at Stu's Halloween party proves otherwise.

Pairing: MMF Ghostface (Billy Loomis & Stu Macher) x reader

Word count: 2,852

Warnings: None so far

Thanks to the surge of murders in your hometown of Woodsboro and the newly enforced curfew, your mom spared you from your usual duty of accompanying your younger sibling for trick-or-treating around the neighborhood.

Your best friend, Jenna, invited you at the last minute to Stu Macher's Halloween party instead. However, her excitement waned when you stumbled upon an old Ghostface mask in the closet and answered the door wearing it.

"It's in really poor taste," Jenna said, crossing her arms over her nearly exposed chest. She was wearing a skimpy cheerleader outfit, likely to appease her new boyfriend, Anders.

"Well, it isn't like Ghostface wears skirts, fishnet tights, and knee-high boots. I think she's safe from being mistaken for the killer," Anders commented, his dark eyes appraising you. Your response was a scrunched nose and a disdainful glare he couldn't see past your mask.

Anders—the latest object of your best friend's affection—attempted to pull off the dark-haired, leather jacket bad boy look. But you easily saw through it. He was nothing more than a tool.

However, Jenna made you promise to be nice, so you refrained from telling him off for ogling you. You wrapped your dark robe around your cut-off black top sporting cute little glow-in-the-dark ghosts before following Jenna to her boyfriend's truck and climbing into the back seat.

The gathering was taking place at Stu's big farmhouse, and plenty of people were coming, so it did seem like the safest place to be. When you arrived, you hopped out and followed Jenna and Anders up the front porch.

"Well, hey there." Stu's delighted grin greeted you at the door as he held it open. "Great costume."

"Thanks, Stu," you replied, grateful that the mask concealed your flustered expression. He was wearing a velvety red robe over a beige sweater, but it was always his smile that he wore best.

Though you were aware of Stu's relationship with Tatum, you couldn't deny the magnetic draw of his outgoing personality. Still, you weren't the type to go after other girls' men.

Because if you were the type to tread that path, Billy Loomis's bed might have been your destination. Poor Sidney had to have some idea how much of a player her boyfriend was, but she was unaware of the fact Billy had come onto you on more than one occasion. Resolute in avoiding the same bad-boy trap your best friend fell into, you steered clear.

Squeezing past Stu, whose blue eyes shamelessly traced your every move, you navigated into the party. While Jenna and Anders settled on the couch for the scary movie marathon, you made your way to the kitchen to get some beers.

With your back to the room, you heard your name and spun around, coming face to face with Stu.

"I knew that was you under that costume. Damn, you look really cute," he said, his eyes lighting up as he bit his lip.

Ducking your head slightly, a nervous giggle escaped as you thanked him.

"Whassamatter?" Stu leaned in so close that your black mesh-shrouded vision was consumed by him. "You gettin' flustered, girly?"

Shoving him back with a hand still clutching a beer, you playfully muttered, "Quit it, Stu. You have a girlfriend."

"Yeah? And what if I told you I'm planning on leaving her for you?" he said in a low tone, capturing your hand on his chest. His head dipped, and piercing eyes seemingly locked onto yours through the mask.

"Uh-" Your mouth went dry, and your thoughts scattered into the far corners of your mind.

Fuck. A little flirting and you could already feel your body heating up. Stu would leave his girlfriend for you? You hated the fact your thoughts were already consumed with the idea of stealing another girl's man.

But was it really stealing when he suggested it? Attempting to maintain the façade of a good, mostly innocent girl, you grappled with the growing heat in your core.

"There you are!" Tatum's voice cut through your brain fog.

"Thanks," Stu said, taking the beer from your hand and winking before turning to face his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and leading her back toward the living room. He glanced over his shoulder before disappearing from view, blowing a kiss.

You grabbed the last beer in the fridge and reentered the living room, passing two bottles to your best friend on the packed couch and opening one for yourself before settling on the armchair in the only available seat, beside Tatum. There were at least twenty people sitting around the TV, which was playing the movie 'Halloween,' but the moment you felt the back of the chair settle, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth of Stu's body radiating from behind you.

His girlfriend was beside you, but she knew how Stu was. She didn't think anything of it when he set his arm—still holding the beer—around your shoulder. Your breath caught. Your best friend shot you a look, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The tension between you and Stu was building, and you weren't sure how much more you could take.

"You're lucky Sidney couldn't make it," Tatum said from beside you, gesturing to your mask. "You and the others would have scared her shitless. Honestly, it's pretty rude."

You were about to respond when Stu interjected.

"Don't be a bitch, Tatum," he chided. "It's my party, and I'm not gonna enforce a dress code because Sydney is paranoid."

The doorbell rang, and Stu yelled, "I'll get it!" before unceremoniously falling off the back of the chair and popping his head up over the back. "Yo, babe, mind getting us some more beer?" He handed her his empty bottle with a charming smile.

She huffed. "What am I, a beer wench?" Despite her complaint, as Stu headed for the door, she stood up and left for the garage, leaving you alone on the armchair. 

Stu returned shortly, Gail Weathers and Deputy Dewey in tow. You glanced down at your almost empty beer worriedly before Dewey waved it off. "Nah, I'm not gonna bust you guys for having fun."

Gail stood suspiciously by the TV before going back to Dewey, her best reporter smile plastered on her face. Stu approached the armchair and plopped down beside you, grinning. You wanted to reprimand him for the way he cuddled up next to you when his girlfriend could be back any minute, but Stu was known for being touchy-feely, and no one said anything when he wrapped his arm around you with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.

You immersed yourself in the remainder of the movie, nestled against Stu's side, momentarily forgetting Tatum as you tried to quell the racing beat of your heart. As the credits rolled, another knock echoed through the door. Stu gently brushed your hair with his hand before standing and answering it.

"Has anyone seen Tatum?" You heard Dewey ask. You shrugged, still collecting your things. 

Jenna approached you, looking suspicious. "Did you only agree to come cause you think Stu's hot?" 

"What?" You acted like you had no idea what she was talking about, but she saw right through you. 

"You two were so cuddled up I thought you'd climb onto his lap and start making out any second," she said. "He's taken, you know."

"Not for much longer," you said. 

She shoved your arm. "No way?" She whisper-yelled, her eyes growing wide.

You shrugged. "He said he was going to leave his girlfriend for me. They're over with."

"Shit," she muttered, rubbing her arm. "Then… Well, congrats, I guess. I can't judge. Anders left his girlfriend for me."

"Girlfriends, you mean?" You said, your lip curling. Anders had been dating two girls and Jenna before he finally "settled" on her, but not before sleeping with all the girls to 'see if they were compatible'. This fucker was playing games with your best friend, and you never trusted him for a second. 

"Speaking of Anders, where is he?" You asked, trying to change the subject before she could start defending him.

Jenna looked over her shoulder. "I dunno. I'll go find him. Wait for me?" She said, to which you nodded. You kept your mask in hand and approached the front door, spotting Stu talking to Billy. 

"Is Sydney here?" Billy asked Stu, who shook his head. "Fuck. Well, at least she wasn't here to kill the party. She's such a drag nowadays." 

You figured Billy was not the type to dress up for Halloween, and you were correct; he was wearing a plain white shirt with a blue plaid dress shirt.

Billy's eyes slid to you as the rest of the partygoers filtered out around him. "You didn't tell me she was coming," he said to Stu, shoving his chest and stepping through the doorway. 

"Ow! Jesus! I didn't know she was coming, I thought she had to babysit!" Stu griped, holding his chest with an affronted expression. Billy ignored him, coming to a stop in front of you. 

His dark eyes glinted behind strands of black hair as he looked over your costume, grinning when he spotted the mask gripped on your hand. "Not worried that the killer is gonna get ya for stealing his look?" He teased. 

"The killer could be a girl," you countered.

"You think so? Is it you?" He inquired, his smile growing as he leaned closer, enjoying the way you flustered under his gaze. 

You shook your head. "No way. I'd pick different targets if I were to kill people." 

"Yeah? Like who?" Stu asked, peeking over Billy's shoulder. 

You thought for a moment. "I dunno, maybe someone like… Gail Weathers?" You said. "I can't think of someone I'd be happier to see gone than her."

Stu giggled, and Billy nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good one." 

"She was here with Dewey earlier," Stu said offhandedly.

"Dewey was here?" Billy said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yup. Guess they're amping up security." Stu makes an exaggerated shocked face from behind Billy, causing you to laugh. 

"What the fuck!" You heard Jenna yell from the back yard. Billy, Stu, and yourself all whipped to attention, and headed for the back door. Not wanting to reveal yourselves yet, you peeked around the corner, with Billy over your shoulder, and Stu leaning over him. 

What you saw was Jenna with her hands on her hips, looking out onto the porch at her boyfriend with a very drunk girl still hanging off his arm despite his efforts to loose her from his bicep. 

"It's not what you think!" Anders said, finally shoving the girl away. "She came onto me!"

"And you had your hand down her pants to what? Help her find her keys?" Jenna scoffed, then threw the rest of her drink at him. A sopping wet Anders continued to appeal to Jenna, but she wasn't having it. "Just get out of here," she spat, pushing Anders's soaked chest until he gave up and retreated around the side of the house, the drunk girl following him. 

"What's going on here?" Dewey asked from behind you and the boys, making you all jump. 

"Jenna found Anders knuckle-deep in another girl," Billy said with a wry grin. 

"Shit," Dewey said under his breath, leaving the group and heading to Jenna. You broke off from the boys and followed him. 

"You okay, Jenna?" Dewey asked, snapping her attention to him.

"I'm fine," she growled, clearly not. Her eyes flicked to you. "There you are," Jenna said, grabbing your arm. "I don't want to be here another second. Let's go home," she said.

"Wait, before you go, has anyone seen Tatum?" Dewey asked. 

"She was a lil upset when I broke up with her," Stu said, shrugging. "I think she left."

Dewey gave Stu a confused look. "What? You broke up?"

Stu shrugged. "Yeah. I realized I have feelings for someone else. It wasn't her fault, I just didn't want to break her heart," he said, his eyes drifting to you. 

You heard a truck start up and peel off the asphalt.

"Fuck," Jenna groaned. "I don't have a way home, we came here with Anders."

"That's alright. I can take you home," Dewey offered. "You need a ride too?" He asked, turning to you. 

"I can take her home, officer," Stu offered. 

"Uh…" You bit your lip and looked at your best friend, at Stu, then Billy. You didn't want to leave Jenna if she needed you, but Stu had been working you up all night, and now that you knew he was single, you didn't really want to go.  

Mercifully, Jenna caught on. "It's fine. Stu, you take good care of her okay?" She said, to which Stu gave a thumbs up, nodding enthusiastically. 

"Alright, I'll drive you home. You'll call me if Tatum turns up, right?" Dewey asked, still sounding worried. 

"Scouts honor," Stu said, his hand over his heart. 

Dewey and Jenna went to the front, and Billy closed the door behind them before turning to face you. The partygoers were all gone by now, leaving you alone in the house with Billy and Stu. 

"So. Stu, huh?" Billy said, stepping closer to you. 

You nodded a little, unable to meet his eyes. 

"What makes him better than me?" Billy asked, pouting. 

"Everything," Stu interjected, wrapping an arm around your waist with a smug look. 

You laughed. "Well, for one, he broke up with his girlfriend."

"Is that all it takes?" Billy tilted your chin up and captured your gaze. "Consider it done," Billy said, a dark intensity in his eyes. 

"What?" You loosed a nervous laugh, unsure if he was fucking with you. Your eyes flicked to Stu, who's nostrils flared. 

"Hey! You knew I wanted to date her for months, now you're gonna try to swoop in and take her from me? Not gonna happen, bro." Stu pulled you possessively against his side. 

Billy looked back at you. "Why don't we let her decide? After all, you haven't officially asked her out yet anyway, right?"

Stu rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well, no, but I was gonna-" 

"Then she's free to pick between us," Billy said, crossing his arms and waiting expectantly. Stu kept his hold on your waist, but watched you with anticipation. 

You felt a wave of uncertainty wash over you. You'd been drawn to both of them at different points in your life, but you never expected that you'd get a chance with either of them. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously. 

"Poor baby," Billy said with a pout. "We're putting too much pressure on you, huh? You need help making your decision?" 

He stepped closer while Stu watched him with curiosity, still holding onto you. You shrunk under Billy's scrutiny, warmth pooling in your core. 

"I know," Billy said, taking a step back and clapping his hands. "Whichever of us fucks you better gets to keep you."

"Ooh," Stu said gleefully, squeezing your side. 

Your heart skipped a beat. "W-what?"

Billy chuckled. "Don't act innocent. I can tell you want it."

You blinked rapidly, your eyes flicking to your feet. You did want it, but you were not prepared to be in this situation whatsoever. 

"Don't worry, I've got a way better dick," Stu said proudly. "You'll definitely be mine by the end of the night." 

"Longer doesn't equate better," Billy scoffed. "I'll prove it."

Your face was on fire, and your hands were trembling as you wrung them. You couldn't believe the situation you'd gotten yourself into. 

"Aww, she's nervous," Stu said, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright babe, if you don't want to you don't have to."

Billy shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I just thought it'd be fun."

You took a deep breath, finally mustering the courage to speak, though your voice trembled. "It would be fun," you admitted. "But… won't you both think I'm a slut?" 

Stu snorted. "If you plan to date either of us, and we both are cool with it, then you're no more of a slut than anyone who participates in a threesome." 

"Besides," Billy said, "sluts can be hot, especially when they're trustworthy." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "We can trust you, can't we?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. 

Stu beamed. "Fuck yeah," he said, pulling Billy in with his other arm. "You wanna go to my room, or my parents? My parents bed is bigger, but my room has a better vibe-" 

"Your room smells like weed," Billy griped. 

"Duh," Stu said, giving Billy an incredulous look. "That's part of the vibe."

"Your parents room, maybe?" You offered, still feeling some trepidation. 

"Cool, let's go!" Stu said, letting go of you both and turning toward the stairs, tripping up them in his rush to lead the way. Billy sighed and held out his arm, gesturing for you to go before him. When you reached the top of the stairs, Stu had opened the door, and bowed exaggeratingly low. "Ladies first."

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #stu macher #billy loomis #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #scream #slasher x reader #halloween