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jinjeriffic · 3 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #no beta we die like danny #I'm sick and wordvomited this out at like 4am #send throat lozenges #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)

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spoonsand · 25 days

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RIP RED DEAD CHARACTERS YOU WOULD HAVE LOVED

Dutch- disposable fruity flavoured (mango) vapes, Duolingo

Hosea- rollerblading, old VHS movies, The Sound of Music, ear studs, small hoops, and ear cuffs

Arthur- LED strip lights, therapy, The Joy of Painting

John- Ax body spray, deodorant, those little arm floaties little kids wear in the pool

Mary-Beth- Lego flowers, The Notebook, Pinterest

Tilly- Easter egg hunts, making slime, slumber parties

Karen- Tube/crop tops, jean shorts, weightlifting

Sean- make your own mead kits, TikTok, “kiss me in Irish”, SUNSCREEN

Abigail- AirTags (she would put one on little Jack), Roasting marshmallows, Crime shows/courtroom dramas, Man! I Feel like a woman! By Shania Twain

Uncle- recliner chairs, dog sledding, Wheel of Fortune, Crosswords

Susan- Dark nail polish, cats(I’m 100% sure she’d own either a black cat or a tortishell that would sit on her lap/shoulder), dishwashers

Kieran- Creep by Radiohead, Tv shows about veterinarians, friendship bracelets (with Arthur)

Reverend Swanson- Support groups, The Robert Langdon series (especially Inferno, Angels & Demons), communion wine

Javier- Cards Against Humanity, online sheet music, ear gauges

Molly- Champaign toast anything from bath and bodywork’s, naval AND lip piercing, SUNSCREEN

Bill-sexy firefighter calendars, Grindr, Bumbl, all the dating apps, apples dipped in caramel, jolly ranchers

Charles- IMessage games (mini golf and battleship in particular), those long distance ‘thinking of you bracelets’, 90’s sitcoms

Lenny- The Carpenters, cologne to make him seem grown up, head pats

Trelawney- Harry Houdini, 50-60s movies, smoke bombs, dramatic flares

Strauss- a soul, Nigerian Prince scams, telemarketing

Sadie- gyms, self defence classes, the free Britany movement

Micah- staying in the strawberry jail, toothbrush + paste, good posture

Pearson- small businesses, handmade gifts, trying TikTok recipes

EXTRA

Annabelle- Gwen Stefani, sequins, Fast and the Furious

Jack (young)- The Backyardagains, cocomelon, a little toy train

Jack (epilogue)- Monty Python, skateboarding, swimming

Bessie- Bette Midler look a like contests, growing old, brown eyeliner, SUNSCREEN

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saltandburnheathens · 26 days

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Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?”

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?”

Dean shrugged.

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.”

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.”

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.”

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded.

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.”

“Be careful.” You warned.

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder.

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice.

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.” Or something along the same bullshit.

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened.

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards.

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave.

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans.

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.”

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising.

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise.

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?”

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.”

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.”

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece.

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.”

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.”

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown.

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam.

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling.

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ”

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -”

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.”

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again.

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans.

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup.

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.”

“You think?!”

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature.

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you.

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?”

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.”

You lean in and quickly sniff.

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -”

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face.

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years.

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested.

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.”

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing.

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.”

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup.

“Are you in or -”

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished.

“Wha - I -”

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften.

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked.

“Positive.”

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.”

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.”

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam.

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dad!dean winchester #dad!dean

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joeys-babe · 28 days

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Joey B Imagines: Easter

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Summary: You and Joe spend Easter in Athens at his parent's house, and you can't help but think about what your life has become.

Warnings: Fluff!

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into the Mystic

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March 31, 2024

“Hey, Burrow’s!” - Robin

Joe held my hand as we walked through the back gate into his childhood backyard.

Miles and Tyson were walking in front of us in their usual matching fashion. They had on white button-downs and jeans, their high-top Nikes matching the ones Joe was wearing right now. Joe had styled their hair to have the same swoop as his.

“Hey, Mom.” - Joe smiled

Jimmy stood at the grill, grilling what looked to be steaks as he talked to Joe’s brother Jamie.

Immediately, Miles was running to his grandma.

“Look at you! You look snazzy!” - Robin

Miles hugged Robin’s neck after she picked him up, and Joe guided me over to the back deck.

“Mama, sit down.” - Joe

“I’m okay, Joe.” - you

Joe gave me a stern look, and I slowly sat down on the porch swing. He sat down next to me and pulled Tyson onto his lap.

“It's kinda cold…” - you

The way Joe immediately pulled his light jacket off made me smile. He always did his best to take care of me. After putting the jacket over my shoulders, Joe kept his arm around me.

“Thank you.” - you smile

“Of course.” - Joe pressed a kiss to your forehead

I sighed in contentment as I looked around the yard. Robin was holding Miles as he blabbed to Jimmy about what he got in his Easter baskets this morning. Joe ran his fingertips over my bare shoulder, and my eyes dropped down to Tyson. His chubby cheek was pressed onto his dad’s chest as he fisted Joe’s shirt.

Pulled out of my daydream with a squeeze of my shoulder, I looked up and met my favorite pair of blues, who was already looking down at me.

“Whatcha thinking?” - Joe

“I’m just very happy and thankful. For this… for you.” - you

“Good. I'm thankful for you too.” - Joe

——

After dinner, Robin called all of the grandkids inside so the adults could hide eggs for an Easter egg hunt.

Joe sat back down on the swing and gently grabbed my hips so I'd sit next to him.

“Your feet sore, baby? You've been on them all day.” - Joe

“A little.” - you

He bent down and grabbed my legs, pulling them onto his lap as I sat sideways. Joe took my wedged sandals off and rubbed my feet.

“Joseph!” - Robin

“What?!” - Joe

“It's your turn this year.” - Robin

“For what?” - Joe

Jamie and Dan laughed on the other side of the porch.

“Easter bunny.” - Dan laughed

I looked at Joe, who looked confused until it clicked, and his eyes went wide.

“Absolutely not! No way, I'm not putting that suit on!” - Joe

“Awe, please, Joe? For the kids!” - you

“No way.” - Joe

Joe had a disgusted look on his face until his eyes met mine.

“Please, baby.” - you

“Fine.” - Joe sighed

——

When Joe walked outside in the bunny costume, I couldn't help but laugh. I hid my face behind my hand as I stood with the twins in the grass. They each held a basket.

Miles hid behind my legs like he does when he's scared while Tyson pointed at Joe and yelled ‘Bunny’.

Easter bunny Joe walked up to me and picked up Tyson, trying to show Miles that he wasn't that scary.

“See, buddy, he's not scary.” - you

Joe eventually put Tyson down and wrapped his arms around my waist. I laughed as I leaned against his chest.

“This is humiliating.” - Joe whispered

“I’ll give you extra kisses later to make up for this.” - you

“Good.” - Joe

When I pulled away from Joe, I noticed that Miles’s chin was quivering.

“Oh, it's okay, bubs! Don't cry.” - you

Joe pulled the head of the costume off to show Miles that it was just him, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his messed-up hair.

“It’s just daddy.” - you laughed

Miles was still slow to calm down even when Joe bent down to be at his level.

“Look, it's just Daddy.” - Joe

“Daddy?” - Miles

My heart ached when he wiped his little eyes and walked toward Joe.

“Sorry for scaring you.” - Joe

“S’okay.” - Miles

Robin took the boys over to where the eggs were to start the hunt, giving Joe and me some alone time while she distracted Miles.

“Hey, baby, can you help me get out of this, please?” - Joe

After unzipping the suit and helping Joe out of it, he reached a hand up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Its bad isn't it?” - Joe

“What?” - your smile fell

“My hair.” - Joe

“Oh! It's not too bad.” - you

Joe leaned his head down and I fixed it back to its original form, him kissing my cheek before fully pulling away.

“You look beautiful in this dress by the way. Baby girl is really popping out now.” - Joe

“She is.” - you agreed

“I can't wait till she’s here.” - Joe

He placed a big hand on the center of my bump, and I laid mine over his.

“We still have a long way to go, but it's going to be worth the wait.” - you smiled

“Agreed.” - Joe

I grinned at him, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips before he leaned in and kissed me.

“Do you remember our first Easter together as a couple?” - Joe

“Yup. We were kissing in the gazebo and Jamie walked in on us.” - you

“Fun times… I remember my teenage boy mind going crazy over you in that dress.” - Joe laughed

“What?!” - you

“Your Easter dress that year. It hugged you in all the right places.” - Joe

“You’re crazy…” - you

Our conversation ended and we walked back up to the porch, Joe only sat down for a few seconds before getting up to help the twins hunt for eggs.

Joe offered his assistance after we watched Tyson pick up an egg and put it in his tipped-over basket, only for it to fall straight out of his basket. Miles was trailing behind him, picking up every egg Tyson dropped. Both were completely oblivious, and Miles thought he was just really good at finding them, unaware of the fact that they were Tyson’s dropped eggs.

I sat back and let the wind blow over my face, snuggling more into Joe’s jacket just like I had snuggled into his letterman jacket during our first Easter.

Now the owner of that letterman jacket was my husband, who was running around the yard like a madman, trying to find eggs for our kids.

“Joe! Leave some for the other kids!” - you chuckled

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Authors note: Happy Easter y'all!

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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scary-lasagna · 3 months

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Headcanons of slenderman in his office working and his 5 year old daughter comes in and asks him if they could play the 8 pages, and so the daughter reader is giggling while running through the woods and collecting pages while slenderman laughs and playfully chases her and then it just ends super fluffy

i know this was sent in recently and I’m trying to go from old to new but this was so cute i just couldn’t wait

Slender

8 pages is a game he “plays” with his proxies often.

In reality, it’s a game of stealth, aversion, tracking, and other proxy enrichment tasks and activities.

This is where his dear daughter comes in.

Whenever Slender is working, Splendor is always the one to volunteer to baby sit. And he’ll walk her around the manor, sometimes carrying her, to get her out of the play room.

Sometimes Sally will accompany, and sometimes not.

But on a certain day, Splendor took her into the woods to watch how Slender interacted with the proxies. And while they think it’s slightly terrifying to be hunted by their boss, his daughter will only recognize him as her father.

She’ll get slightly startled, but then giggle afterward.

So, the little being meekly waddled up to his desk during his working hours, and presents all 8 pages made by various colors of crayons.

So they look anything like his territorial pages? Absolutely not. But does he love them with all of his heart? Yes. Of course he does.

He thought that was the end of it, but oh not so fast, Mr Dad! You have a game to play.

Since his daughter is so spoiled, and has such a hard time saying no to her, he finds himself being dragged outside by a pudgy hand.

He’ll set them up at child-height for her to find, and explain the simplified rules, which is really just a game of tag and easter egg hunting.

He’ll pop out from behind a tree, squatting close to the ground, and laugh as she squeals and runs away, clutching two pages to her chest.

His daughter is never afraid of getting lost, and neither is he, knowing he’ll always be able to find her.

She will run under logs, and hide in crevices of trees, and be one with nature as all children should be, no matter the species.

And Boo! A pair of hands grab her, and sweep her up as she still clings to her self-made pages. “I’ve got you!”

She can only squeal and choke out a string of belly laughs, too excited to say anything more comprehensible.

But oh dear! Shes slipping away! Right through his hands that are so conveniently close and safe to the ground so his daughter can sprint away at her full speed.

He could easily catch up in a few quick strides, but he wouldn’t dare ruin her fun.

5 pages had been collected before she decided to curl up inside a log, using her jacket as a pillow and the pages as her teddy bear.

Slender collected the rest of the pages himself, and discover his daughter tucked into natures own bed.

He’ll carry her home, tuck her into her own bed topped with a princess canopy she ‘had to have’ after seeing Sally’s, and frame the newly drawn 8 pages in his office.

Maybe when she grows up, he’ll have a teammate in the 8 pages against the proxies.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #slender x reader #slender platonic #creepypasta x reader #child reader #slender daughter

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chiaraanatra · 2 months

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Break Up in a Small Town

Request: What about break up in a small town by Sam Hunt? Pilot!Reader and Jake?! Love your work!! - @callsign-viper

Summary: You and Jake had known each other since high school and the two of you dated back at the Academy. After being stationed on separate sides of the US the two of you separated. Little did you know both of you would be called back to Top Gun. Little did he know you would be followed by a civilian boyfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, name-calling (slut), shitty boyfriend, Hangman to the rescue!

No Y/N; callsign Stinger; called Honeybee by Jake as term of endearment.

Word Count: 3k

AN: This took way too long and I’m sorry. It also ran away from me and I’m not sorry.

When I first started writing this, I was watching too much VPR and Tom is definitely based on Tom Sandoval.

For the parts 1 & 3 of this accidental series: pt 1: Cop Car || pt 3: Falling Like This

《 m.list || ao3 》

“Stinger!” You looked up from your spot in the common room, greeted by the commander looking about as pissed-off as usual, “My office now!”

Shit! What did I do…? Your thoughts ran rampant. You weren't a bad egg by any means but depending on the day the commander could go on a tirade over just about anything.

You stood in front of his desk, eyes trained straight forward. He was looking through a large manila folder. “Do you know why I called you in here?”

“No, Sir.”

“I have to send somebody from this squadron to Miramar…” Your brain was barely able to register the Commander’s words. “This might be against my better judgment, but I’m giving you your dream shot. I'm gonna send you up against the best. You’re going to Top Gun.”

Holy Shit…!

“Thank you, Sir.” You tried to keep a stoic look on your face but inside you were screaming. Top Gun was a big deal and you would be one of the few pilots included in the upcoming class!

“You ship out tomorrow. You're expected to be there Monday at 0500. Don’t make me regret this decision, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed. Go home and pack up.”

“I won’t let you down, Commander.”

You walked out and closed the office door behind you. You tried your best to contain your giddy smile. You bolted down the hall, running into the parking lot and towards your car. The first thing you did was pull out your phone and call your best friend.

Viper was stationed in Florida. The two of you were inseparable at the Academy, attached at the hip, and you didn’t let being stationed in different places stop this. Regardless of the distance, the two of you always stayed in touch, sharing whatever news and gossip came up wherever you were stationed.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t contain yourself and just screamed into the phone, “Guess what!!”

“Okay tone it down there, Sting. I don’t need you blowing out my eardrums.” She laughed.

“I’m going to Top Gun!”

“Oh?” There was a small pause, and you could hear her giggle softly. “That’s amazing, babe! I think there will be a lot in store for you there!" she paused for a moment. "You know, Top Gun, full of surprises!” You knew Viper was acting weird, but your excitement was taking over, and you couldn’t be bothered to ask what she knew. “I umm have to go but call me when you get to Miramar safe! Love you!” She hung up just as quickly as you called her.

Weird as that was you knew better than to question Viper. But the last thing on your mind was the fact that in the Navy, news travels fast and Viper knew much more than she was letting on. All you could think about was goodbye China Lake and hello Miramar!

“You accepted it? Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?” This was not exactly the reaction you were expecting from your boyfriend.

You met Tom about a year ago at a bar just off the China Lake base. You had been stationed at the Naval Air Weapons Station at China Lake since you graduated from the Academy. Being a skilled pilot with a talent for air-to-air combat, it was the perfect placement for you. Last fall, Tom moved to sunny California after being employed as a civilian contractor, hired to work on weapons navigation. The two of you seemed to click well and after a month of being friends, you decided to go out with one another. You hadn’t really dated anyone since the Academy, and it was a nice change of pace, for a while at least. As months went on Tom tended to, not so subtly, question your career as a naval pilot.

“I know, but this is Top Gun. This is a huge deal!” You said adrenalin running through, a giddy smile was plastered on your face. “This is the big leagues! And it’s still in California, only like a 4-hour drive.”

“I get that babe, but you really should have consulted me on such a big decision.”

Your smile began to fade, “You’re right I should have talked to you…” Tom always had a knack for bringing you down a couple of pegs.

“It’s cool and all but you have to consider how it could affect me, us. You know?"

“Yeah… I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

“Hey, don’t give me that face.” He placed his finger under your chin lifting it so you would look at him. “You just have to think before you act.” He pulled you into a hug, “We’ll make it work.”

The drive to Miramar was surprisingly easy despite the traffic. You made it there in record time, partly due to your tendency to drive just a bit over the speed limit.

*Ping*

You looked at your phone expecting it to be Tom but the name on the notification read Phoenix. The two of you had gotten pretty close after her short stint at China Lake a couple of years ago. You were relieved when you found out that she was also accepted into Top Gun, the perspective of a familiar face made your nervousness subside.

You, me, Hard Deck 7 pm! The whole class is meeting up!

You smiled at the screen and all thoughts of Tom and the hope that he would text that he was glad you made it to Miramar safely quickly left your head.

You made it to the Hard Deck a few minutes after 7. As you walked in you saw a collection of khaki surrounding the pool table. You made eye contact with Phoenix, who lifted her empty glass with pleading eyes. You smiled, giving her a nod that indicated her next round was on you before you headed to the bar. You didn’t notice when more khaki uniforms shuffled into the already-packed bar.

“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix!” A tall blonde made his way over to Phoenix and the others. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fellas, this here’s Bagman.”

“Hangman,” he smiled as if the snide comment didn’t bother him.

“Whatever.” She turned to Fanboy and Payback, “You’re looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”

“Stop.” He tried his best to fain embarrassment.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.”

“Cold war,” he corrected. “Different wars, same century.”

She smiled back at him, “Not this one.”

“Who are your friends?” He nodded toward the two men on either side of her.

“Payback. Fanboy. And Stinger’s at the bar grabbing drinks.”

“Stinger...?” he spoke in barely a whisper. Hangman could feel his heart skip a beat at a name he hadn’t heard in years but never forgot. There’s no way…

After a few moments you made your way over to the pool table, Nat’s tequila and soda in one hand and your drink of choice in the other.

“What did I miss?” You said squeezing in next to Nat and handing her a drink.

I knew I'd see her around.

I'd be at some party, she'd show up and I'd be walking out.

“Stinger! This is-“

You interrupted before she could finish, “Hangman. It’s been a while, Seresin.” The corner of your lip turns up slightly as you maintain eye contact.

“That it has…” Jake’s eyes wandered through the room, itching for an escape. He figured it was inevitable that he would run into you again, but he wasn’t prepared for it to be now. He saw Rooster out of the corner of his eye, “Bradshaw! Is that you?” Bradley made his way over to the group and you watched as the two men had a dick-measuring contest.

You moved closer to Nat. “Well, he hasn’t changed,” she sighed as she turned back to you.

“Nope. Sure hasn’t…” a small smile making its way across your lips. You downed the rest of your drink, “I think I’m gonna head out. I have a lot of shit to do before Monday.” The reaction between you and Hangman had Nat curious but she knew better than to bombard you with questions.

You were barely at the parking lot before you had your phone in hand dialing Viper’s number. Time differences be damned!

“You knew, didn’t you?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You could hear Viper’s smile through the phone.

“You knew he was here!”

“Okay maybe… Yeah, I knew. But come on Sting… I know you still have feelings for him.”

“That doesn’t matter I have Tom...” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Viper held herself back from sharing her thoughts about Tom. “Well, a lot can happen in a few weeks. Maybe keep your options open.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I’ll talk to you later V. Love you.”

“Love you too, S. Be safe up there.”

The first two weeks had been maddening. Top Gun training was a lot, to put it mildly. Being so close to Jake Seresin brought up feelings you thought you had long since buried and it didn’t help that Tom was MIA due to work.

You were wrapping up your post-flight checks, humming along to the music softly playing from the speaker on your workbench.

We just needed some time.

Your mood dampened slightly at the choice of song. You didn’t listen to much country before you met Jake. Coming from the Lone Star State, it’s all he would listen to. It didn't take long for the genre to grow on you. But even after all those years, there was a pull somewhere in your heart whenever a song like that would come on.

Thought I would be fine, but maybe not.

“Hey, Honeybee.” Jake mentally hit himself for the nickname.

Speak of the devil.

You couldn’t help the shiver that made its way down your spine. You wouldn’t say it out loud but you missed the nickname. One only he ever got to call you.

You turned around to see Jake walking towards you. You stood, adjusting your flight suit.

“Good job out there today.” Jake was looking down at the ground.

“Thanks. Same to you.” You gave him a small smile just as his gaze made its way to your face. “Mav’s a hard ass, but this is a good team and I think we have what it takes.”

He couldn’t help but smile, “Hard ass might be underselling it, but I have to agree.” He looks back at the ground once more. “Hey, I’m happy you’re here. While I had some doubts about some of the pilot selections, I never had a second thought about you being here.”

“Thank you, Jake. I-“ Before you can finish your thought you hear a door open next to you. When you look over the sight of Tom is a surprising one. He had barely spoken to you since your arrival, let alone mention coming down to see you.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Tom’s arm was slung heavy and uncomfortable on your shoulders.

“Tom, this is Lt. Jake Seresin. He’s also attending Top Gun.”

Hangman extended a handout to Tom, “Nice to meet you, Tom.”

“Back at you, buddy.” Tom leaves Jake’s hand empty, pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Hey babe how about you clean up your grimy self and we meet somewhere for a drink.”

You try your best to brush off Tom’s brazen attitude, “Umm yeah we can meet at the Hard D-“

Tom cuts you off, moving his arm from your shoulder and turning all his focus to his phone, “Yeah. Cool. Let’s meet there in a few hours?” Without waiting for your reply, he starts making his way towards the exit. “Just send me the address.”

You let go of a sigh that caught you somewhat by surprise. “Well, I guess I should wrap up my checks and get out of here.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jake.

Jake was taken aback by the little interaction but bit his tongue. He had no right to comment on your current relationship, even if he hated how the guy talked to you. “Yeah,” he paused for a brief moment, “I’ll see you at the Hard Deck.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face, “yeah, see you there.”

Jake sat at the bar of the Hard Deck watching Penny and the new bartender pour drinks while he debated his decision to come tonight. The second he saw you for the first time since the Academy, everything that happened between you and him came flooding back. Meeting you in Corpus Christi after your dad got promoted and stationed at their Naval Air Station, going to the Academy together, long nights spent studying, and even longer nights spent intertwined with one another. He missed you. He wanted to convince himself that he didn’t, but he did. He always wondered where you two would have been had you been stationed together after graduation or had you tried to make things work despite the distance. Maybe you wouldn’t have been with that jackass now…

Jake looked up from his drink to be met with a view of the said jackass. However, the hands that were hanging all over Tom, didn’t belong to you. Jake watched for a few more moments as Tom’s hands grabbed at the girl’s ass. Before he knew what he was doing, Jake was making his way towards Tom, taping the shorter, dark-haired man on the shoulder.

“What the-Ho, hey Jacky boy!” Tom’s demeanor quickly changed when faced with the taller blonde.

“It’s Jake.” Jake was straight-faced and unamused.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Any way you mind?” Tom’s eyes moved from Jake to the girl and back to Jake, hoping that Jake would catch the hit and keep quiet.

I wanna jump out, I wanna fight, I wanna say, "F- that guy!" but I can’t.

Jake knew exactly what that look meant. While he wasn’t proud of it, he had a past. When you first met in high school, Jake had a reputation for having a high “catch and release” rate. It was because of that it took him a while to convince you that he wanted something different with you. After you things reverted, never wanting something serious if it wasn't with you.

The doors to the Hard Deck opened and your gaze was drawn to Jake. Thoughts of Tom were nonexistent, to the point where you couldn’t be bothered to notice the shorter, dark-haired man or the shorter woman hanging all over him.

You waved to try and get Hangman’s attention. On further inspection, you could tell that the man was seething. Jake wasn’t one to share his emotions much and he wasn’t the most readable, but after spending years with him you could read him like a book. When you finally reached the man, you were met with the source of his anger.

“Tom?”

The girl turned to you with a look of disgust, as if you were beneath her. “And who are you?”

“Well, girlfriend doesn’t seem like an appropriate title anymore,” your attention shifted from her back to your ex-boyfriend, “does it, Tom?”

Tom let out a laugh that made you want to shrink into yourself. “Sure, sure. You know what? Fuck you! I could have any girl I want! I don’t have to put up with this bullshit!”

“What bullshit? You’re the one with another woman hanging all over you.”

“Oh, seriously?” Tom looked to Jake and back at you, “Like you haven’t been slutting yourself out to guys like him?”

“Hey hey hey!” Penny moved toward the two of you, “I will not have this shit in my bar.”

Tom scoffed, “And what are you going to do about it?”

Penny smirked and ranked the bell. The whole crowd cheered as Tom looked around in confusion.

“Overboard! Overboard! Overboard!”

Before he had time to think, much less react, Tom was hoisted into the air and carried toward the exit. Before he knew it his ass hit the sand and the doors to the bar were slammed shit.

Jake looked over to you, you had shrunk into yourself at Tom’s words but tried your best to hide it. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. “You wanna get outta here?” He gave you his iconic smile and you couldn't help but give him a small smile in return.

“Yeah, I would rather be anywhere but here right now.”

“I think I know just the place.” He cashed you both out with Penny and led you to his truck.

“I hope this isn’t your masterful plan to get me back in your bed.” Half joking you look over to him.

He let out a breathy laugh, while he liked the thought of you back in his arms, tangled in the sheets of his bed, he knew that’s not what you needed. At least not right now. “Unlike some, I am capable of think without using my dick.”

The two of you drove in comfortable silence. You noticed that he had driven you back to Miramar. He parked and you looked at him with some confusion. “Come on,” he hopped out, grabbing two blankets out of his back seat before making his way towards the back of the truck and you followed. “You remember back in Corpus Christi when we would sneak onto the base and watch the planes take off.” He laid out the blankets and lifted you to sit on the truck bed.

“I remember us almost getting arrested senior.” I couldn’t help but laugh as you remember that night. You also remember that being the night you two first kissed.

He jumped up to sit next to you, “Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about that.”

Your eyes drifted in his direction, taking in his form. His strong arms, his hands that were much larger than your own. His strong jaw and beautiful eyes. You knew your timing could have been better, but you couldn’t stop yourself, “I’ve missed you, Jake…” Your head came to rest on his shoulder.

His head came to rest slightly on your own, “I missed you too, Honeybee.”

Tags: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern @pono-pura-vida

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake “hangman” seresin #top gun fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #no beta

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rocorambles · 7 months

Text

Final Girl: Act II

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Con, Dehumanization, Humiliation, Belly Expansion/Forced Enema and Water Sports, Mind-Break, Non-Con Photography/Filming, Forced Bondage, Sex Machines, Cow Tail Plug

A/N: Think I hit the biggest TWs, but just be warned this is leaning into Dead Dove territory and there’s a lot here. My depraved mind is clearly making up for the literal years I’ve left you all hanging smut wise.

Link to Final Girl: Act I

Women are trained actors when it comes to fooling men and you tell yourself this is no different than smoothly weaning off the unwanted attention of an annoyingly persistent man at a bar. Fluttering your eyelashes, laughing and smiling on cue, maybe slightly overexaggerating how divine Daichi’s cooking is, you’re the epitome of a silly smitten woman. Too bad you’re pitted against two even more veteran actors who are enjoying your little act, enjoying pushing your fraying nerves.

A feline smile widens at how your muscles subtly tighten, swiftly painted over by a coy smile when calloused hands purposefully linger and litter your body with far too many casual touches.

An eyebrow above seemingly kind brown eyes slightly arches in amusement at how you pretend to admire the interior of the cabin, trying to hide how your gaze pauses at every possible escape route.

But as fun as it is to watch you flounder about, the show must go on.

“I’m glad you like the meal. The eggs are actually from the neighbor who lives on the land next door.”

Both men hide their shared mirth at how your neck practically snaps towards them at those words. How predictable.

“Oh, you have a neighbor? Where? It didn’t seem like there was anyone nearby when I found your cabin…”

You drone on, every carefully inquisitive phrase and sentence nothing new to the two players watching you unknowingly recite your script word for word. Intermission is over and the second act has officially begun.

Scene: Foolish girl walks right into an obviously placed trap.

It’s a delicate dance feigning interest, coquettish charms on full display while gently turning down the offers to stay up late that night. A well placed giggle here and there while you gracefully dodge the proffered glasses of wine Kuroo seems set on you drinking. An Oscar worthy rendition of an exhausted woman when Daichi playfully brings out a deck of playing cards. It takes everything in you to pace yourself as you climb up the stairs to the guest bedroom, to keep up the act with an exaggerated yawn, when every instinct in you is begging you to flee and run as fast as your legs can take you.

Safely behind your locked door, you quietly wait for the dead of night while two beasts silently prowl and scheme beneath you.

Let the hunt begin.

It’s been hours since you’ve heard the sound of their voices, hours since you’ve heard both of them enter and close their respective doors, hours since you’ve heard any sound at all in the house. Surely they must be deep asleep?

You can’t risk double checking, not when every footstep you take is already an enormous risk. So instead you head directly for the door, slipping into the shadows as best you can, racing in the direction that Daichi had mentioned their neighbor occupied.

All you hear is your racing heart. All you see is endless greenery. Yet you feel that something is following you, watching you, hunting you. You don’t dare to fully stop, but confusion laces your natural instincts when every harried gaze backwards reveals nothing but the eerie darkness of the wilderness that encompasses you.

It feels like you’ve been running for ages, lungs burning, legs aching. Doubt and panic creep into your mind. How far did Daichi say this neighbor lived? Were you heading in the wrong direction- Your spiraling train of thought abruptly stops as the top of a structure peeks out from above the treeline. Could that be…A relieved sob forces its way out of your choked up throat as the outline of a barn becomes clearer with every approaching step. Hope fuels you to the finish line.

This has to be the neighbor’s farm, but you falter as you draw nearer. For an active working farm Daichi and Kuroo had been chatting a storm up about this morning, it’s awfully quiet. Not an animal in sight. You reason with yourself that it’s simply because of the odd hours. Of course any sane living creature would be asleep at this time. You’re sure the animals are just in their stables and pens. You’ll knock on the door and someone will answer. They’ll help you and everything will be alright.

Knock Knock

Scene: Girl ignores all warning signs.

You’re not completely wrong. When you knock someone does answer and your legs turn to lead as familiar brown eyes amusedly scan you over.

“Well well well, doesn’t this feel like deja vu? You know, it’s dangerous for girls to visit stranger’s homes. You should really fix that bad habit.”

Involuntarily your body takes a shaky step backwards only to collide with a firm surface and suddenly arms are snaking around you, pinning you in place, an unnervingly familiar sly voice chuckling in your ear.

“That was a fun little run, princess. I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

You cry out, fight instincts taking over your body with flight no longer being an option as Kuroo’s arms painfully tighten their hold on you while he sinks teeth into your skin, biting, sucking, marking your vulnerably exposed neck. Squirming, kicking, flailing to no avail, you let out a choked sob when you realize all you’re doing is enticing the man behind you more, tears forming in your eyes as you feel him harden, hear his lewd moans in your ears as he ruts his clothed erection against you from behind.

You’re manhandled further into the barn, four arms now easily subduing you, toying with you as your struggles are repaid with sharp smacks to your ass, cruel pinches to your now exposed nipples as your clothes are torn off of you. Then suddenly, for a split second, you’re able to breathe, dilated pupils whirling around trying to understand what’s going on-

The barn fills with your screams as a pelt of cold water washes over you, your sobs and writhing a stark contrast to Kuroo’s relaxed smile as he lazily aims the hose at you. But before you can even think about lunging towards him you’re pulled onto Daichi’s lap, his hands cupping your breasts, almost laughably intimate in the way they knead and stroke your skin, lathering soapy suds onto every inch of you. You harshly throw your head back hoping to make contact, anger beginning to lace itself among your tumultuous emotions, but Daichi’s a pro at this, easily foreshadowing your every move. Your retaliation is countered by a painfully accurate smack to the space between your legs, exposed for all to see as Daichi’s knees hook between yours, prying your thighs open.

You feel like livestock, strung up on display for its owners to examine, one of Daichi’s hands holding your wrists behind your back, the position forcing your back to arch, thrusting your chest on full display, the cool night air brushing against your most intimate parts between your spread legs. There’s nothing you can do as Kuroo stalks closer to the two of you, hose still in hand, a razor sharp smile splitting his handsome face. It’s humiliating how Daichi treats you like a frightened animal, cooing at you, deft fingers skillfully tugging and flicking your nipples, drawing soothing gentle lines down your navel before landing at their final destination.

“Good girl.”

His words barely register as you let out a shaky moan when he circles your clit, your body unwillingly melting into his touch. But then you’re tensing, begging them to stop as Kuroo slips one finger inside of you, then two, the feeling of them scissoring inside of you combined with Daichi’s touches and his voice overwhelming, terrifying, delicious. There are three fingers in you now, the embarrassing sound of your leaking hungry cunt brutally apparent in the empty silent space.

“What a dirty girl. I knew you were a slut, but you’re liking this even more than I thought you would. Time to wash you again.”

You mewl in confusion when Kuroo suddenly pulls out of you eliciting mocking laughs from both men, but you’re not left empty for long and you shriek as the hose is ruthlessly plunged into you, cold water gushing into you, filling you, expanding your insides more than you could ever have imagined. Seconds feel like ages and you plead with them to stop, whimpering in discomfort as Daichi splays his free hand across your now bulging stomach. Just when you don’t think you can take anywhere it stops and hot tears of humiliation stray from your eyes as Kuroo pulls the hose out, a splattering of water you can’t control leaking from your clenching hole.

It takes everything in you to not let any more water out. It hurts, the fullness almost unbearable. But you won’t give them the satisfaction- Can’t give them the satisfaction of debasing you further by relieving yourself in front of them like a damn animal.

Except you do. After all, will power can only do so much against biology and you cry out as Daichi forcefully presses down on your stomach, a vulgar explosion of water expelling from between your legs, the harsh flash of a camera in Kuroo’s hands capturing every moment of your disgraceful fall.

Something inside you breaks at that moment. This can’t be real. How could this be happening to you? Things like this don’t happen in real life. It hurts to think.

So, you stop.

It’s easier to give in. Easier to accept the way Kuroo’s cock too easily sinks into your quivering and still dripping wet hole. Easier to melt into Daichi’s soothing voice and touch as he praises your newfound obedience while they perform the same cleansing ritual to your back hole. Easier to moan, drool, and enjoy the stretch and slide of both their cocks fucking you. One at a time. Two at a time. Your mouth is also used when both holes are deemed sufficiently christened…at least for now.

You’re so warm. Warm from the two bodies entwining and smothering you between them. Warm from the cum leaking from every crevice of your body. Warm from the graciously more comfortable temperate shower your two captors decide to reward you with.

Eyes heavy, breath slowing into an exhausted sleep cadence, you barely react to the leather collar carefully locked around your neck, only stirring slightly at the obnoxious sound of the cowbell on it ringing as you’re moved to a different section of the barn, a blindfold wrapped around your head. You sleepily whine as you’re repositioned, your stomach laid across a plush leather surface, legs, arms, and neck supported and locked into position, your breasts hanging below you.

Sleep is lulling you in, finally. Maybe if you sleep and wake up, it’ll all just be a dream, a nightmare. But there’s something too real about the sudden thrumming of electricity that fills the air, something too real about the dildo thrusting in and out of you, something too real about the vibrating plug being pushed into your ass, a pretty cow tail attached to it that brushes and sways against you with every limited movement you make. And there’s something too real about the devices being attached to your breasts, something too real about the suction as your nipples are milked, the vibrators and brushes inside of the plastic cups only enhancing your overstimulation.

Unknown to you, two pairs of eyes watch you, drinking in the sight of their newest pet, satisfied smiles on their lips as they watch you helplessly thrash around as much as your restraints will let you, your cries of ecstasy a sweet melody to their ears as you’re forced to come undone over and over again, a slave to the pleasure forced upon you.

End of Act II.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere daichi #yandere daichi x reader #kuroo smut #daichi smut #haikyuu smut

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loveandmurders · 10 months

Note

Hey sorry I was wondering if you would write a fic about the Sinclair Brothers having twin sons or like maybe triplets. How would they treat them? I've seen sinclair dad's but only with girls and I would just like to them with sons

Thank you :)

-👾anon

Hello sweet love, thank you for this very cute request <3

Hope you'll enjoy this <3

HAPPY FAMILY (female reader x poly!Sinclair brothers)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of pregnancy sickness, of labour, mentions of a risky pregnancy for reader and the babies, overprotective parents, fluff.

Getting pregnant wasn’t part of your first plans.

You were living with your three lovers and enjoying yourself, doing chores around town and inside the house, having hobbies and sometimes helping to hunt down victims too. But you never saw yourself as a potential mother. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, it was just that you didn’t particularly feel ready for it. And you were a little bit worried to have kids in the middle of a ghost town with no hospital nearby…

You knew your men would be more than happy to have children though. Bo was a family man and he needed heirs. You sometimes even suspected him to have a breeding kink. Vincent also wanted children, to make sure the family business would never disappear. And he would love to teach them how to sculpt. Lester loved babies and he would adore playing with kids and showing them cool stuff to do.

One morning you felt a little bit sick and weak. You hadn’t been able to stand the smell of the eggs Bo was cooking either, almost making you throw up. The boys had no idea what was going on, but it worried them. They didn’t like to see you ill or hurt. You weren’t sleeping the greatest either, even in their arms. You tried to deny the possibility of being pregnant until your period didn’t show up.

After a few weeks like that, you asked Lester to buy you a pregnancy test and to not say anything about it to the twins. He was really excited but did his best to keep it to himself. He secretly gave it to you and you went to the bathroom. Of course the test came back positive and you stayed for a long time staring at it while being locked up inside the room. You didn’t know how to feel about it. Lester was putting things away in the kitchen but once he was done, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding you. He knocked at the door.

“Hey, baby” he whispered. You got up and unlocked the door for him. “So?” he asked, trying to read your face.

“Les… I’m pregnant” you said without truly realising it and a bright big smile appeared on his face, he even had happy tears in his eyes. He was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He had never been that happy before. He tightly hugged you before kissing you with fierce passion. You smiled against his lips.

“Ya need to tell the twins” he hummed and you nodded. You weren’t too sure how they were going to react but one thing was certain: they were going to overprotect you.

You sat the twins at the kitchen table while Lester was keeping an eye on Ambrose in case tourists came in. The two men were concerned about what you were going to announce because you had this serious expression upon your face.

“So, you know I’ve been a little bit under the weather lately and I can’t stand some smells anymore and all. And well… I’m pregnant” you finally said. You saw the same excitement lit up in their eyes than in Lester’s earlier that day.

“Ya what?” Bo asked with a smile, just to make sure he heard that right

“I’m carrying your child” you repeated and their happiness was communicating. Both the twins were soon all over you, kissing you and stroking your belly. You thought you were going to enjoy the pregnancy if they were all cuddly with you like that.

You had been right about one thing: the Sinclair men were impossibly overprotective and affectionate with you. One of them needed to always be with you. And they forbad you from doing a lot of the chores you used to. They were very gentle with you, trying their best to never do anything that could upset you. You had always felt like the most important person in their lives, but they proved it to you absolutely every day now you were pregnant.

You had been wrong on one thing: it wasn’t just one child you were carrying for them. You started to notice that when your belly got a lot bigger than it should have been for only one baby. You all agreed you needed to see a doctor. Bo was the one to come with you. He was so proud to play the father in front of the nurses and doctors. He was so proud you were having their babies. You all agreed you would never try to know which one of them was the biological father: they were all Sinclairs anyways.

Twins.

You were expecting twins.

And you almost wanted to kill the doctor when he told Bo you both would need to be very careful with you because it could be a risky pregnancy, especially because it was your first one. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and very seriously nodded at the doctor. He also asked questions, trying to know how to care about you and his children the best he could. You had never seen him act so grave before. When you arrived at the car, you could tell Bo was tense. He was concerned about you and he was concerned that the twins would know the same fate as him and Vincent.

“They’ll be okay” you told him

“Ya’ll be okay too, darl” he replied and you smiled “Ya’ll go at the hospital, and they’ll care for the babies. And if anythin’ happens… Ya know we’ll always chose ya over the babies” he continued and you grabbed his hand. You shushed him.

“Nothing will happen. It won’t be like you and Vince, I’m sure of it. And of course it's a more risky pregnancy than if it was one child, but I know we’ll be fine and happy” you tried to reassure him.

“Ya’re not the one supposed to reassure me. We’ll take an extra good care of ya” he promised and you laughed, which made him arch an eyebrow at you.

“Not sure how ya can be even more extra with me. Any of you” you tenderly smiled at him and he relaxed at your words. He would hate to know you didn’t feel cared for or loved enough.

“Anythin’ for ya, mamma” he hummed and you blushed at the nickname while placing a hand over your stomach.

Your water broke one morning as you were getting up to grab a glass of juice. Bo and Lester brought you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring about any kind of speed limit. Vincent was quite upset he couldn’t follow you there, but he wanted the best for the twins. He was so afraid that history was going to repeat itself. He didn’t want to create a small mask for one of his kids, he didn’t want to realise he created a monster with his brothers, he didn’t want you to be put into danger either. He knew that it had been very complicated for his mother and that she almost died. The three men had agreed that they would always choose you over the kids, no matter what. But it still would break their hearts to lose them.

You wished Vincent would have been by your side too, but you hoped you would soon be out of the hospital. You already wanted to be home, in your bed, surrounded by your five men. You knew life was going to be so good.

The labour went by a lot better than anticipated.

And the baby boys borned in perfect health conditions. You were exhausted but you asked to see them and Lester and Bo watched them and carried them with such happiness shining in their eyes. Your babies were already so loved. You even forgot about the killing and Ambrose being a ghost town. It was obvious that everything was going to be alright.

Lester left to call Vincent. His hands were too shaky to send a message and it would allow him to babble even if Vincent couldn’t verbally answer. Vinny was too emotional to even write either so it was alright and he was so grateful that everyone was doing good. He fully let go of his work to finish preparing the house. He wanted everything to be perfect so the babies couldn’t get hurt and you wouldn’t need to think about anything. Vincent wanted you to just rest like you deserved to.

At the hospital, you were too tired to notice how Lester or Bo were reacting with the babies, and a lot of their attention was on you to make sure you were alright. Bo praised you a lot for having done such a good work. And Lester sneaked little chocolates and snacks into your room for you.

It was when you finally reached back home, you realised how your husbands were reacting to their baby boys.

None of the men couldn’t stand hearing the babies crying. They instantly needed to reach for them and to cuddle them and appease them. They needed to protect the babies from any kind of traumas. They were instinctively caring fathers because they would rather die than reproduce what their childhood had been. No favourite, no scream, no abuse.

Vincent and Bo also refused to separate the baby boys; they wanted the twins to sleep in the same bed. They also tried their best to show the same amount of love to the two of them. They wouldn’t stand the idea that one of their kids would feel like they had a favourite. Lester seemed quite relieved about it. Your husbands often talked together late at night, when you were already resting, to decide what was the best to do for the boys.

You also often found Bo sleeping in an armchair as he had tried to watch over his boys. That way he was ready to take care of them the instant one of them would wake up.

Vincent was also the one taking care of them the most at night because he was a night bird anyways.

Lester was the one who knew how to make them laugh and to amuse them the most. He was good at appeasing them when they were crying too. He let his big brothers be overprotective, so he could be the fun dad. He was also finding them clothes and toys. He was already spoiling them rotten and you were powerless to prevent any of this.

Lester also loved to watch you feed the babies and he was often with you when that happened. And when he wasn’t there, it was Bo because the man wanted to make sure his babies and wife were doing alright. No need to say that Bo and Vincent were the most concerned whenever the boys weren’t eating as much as a few hours ago. You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at them.

“They’re all right” you always said

“But we need them to be strong boys, and for that they need to eat well!” Bo exclaimed as Vincent nodded in agreement with his own twin.

“They’ll be strong. Have you seen their fathers and mother?” you smiled

The advantage of living with three men was they could take care of the kids and of the house and let you rest. Bo loved to take care of you and to wash you too.

Vincent enjoyed spying on you when you were with the boys. He loved when you were talking to them with so much love in your words and voice. He was so relieved to know that his baby boys were going to grow up in a loving family, even though they were surrounded by killers.

Bo was calling you “mamma” pretty much all the time now.

Lester once asked you how it was to be the matriarch of the family and Vincent was a lot more obedient to you than he used to be. If Bo was calling for him, he wouldn’t move, but if it was you, he was there in a flash.

You became the head of the family and your husbands made it clear that they couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant again because “the twins needed siblings to be protective of”

Thanks to you, the brothers knew that even killers deserve a happy family life.

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #sinclair brothers x reader #sinclair brothers x s/o #sinclair brothers x you #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year

Text

A/n: so I picked, Ada, Luis, Leon { with bonus aunt Ashley }

•+• Ada Wong •+•

Ada liked Leon, she did really but she didn’t love him,Oh no that was saved for you and her children. The only people that she can confidently say that she deeply cared about.

It was quite easy to spoil her little ones, spoil you. Which is why she may have gone a bit over bored with Easter.

Stepping out of the room you held back a yawn though your eyes went wide seeing the living room stuffed with toys. Two large baskets filled to the brim with goodies and treats. Your head suddenly snapped towards where you spotted Ada.

“Looks who finally up.”

“Ada! You’re home!” A bright smile formed on your face. You did your best not to let the tears fall though your children had other planes. The little ones rushing out to greet their mother.

“Mommy!” “Mommy.”

Bending down, Ada smiled softly as she enveloped her children in her arms.

Opening your mother you wanted to ask when she did this though biting your tongue you shook your head kneeling down next to the three. “It’s gonna be a fun day.”

Reaching out, Ada grasped your wrist gently giving you a smile. She would do anything to keep you three happy.

She didn’t care what it might take.

+•+

•+• Leon S. Kennedy •+•

Bonus: Ashely Graham

Leon loved his kids, loved you. Which is why he was happy to finally have a break from all off this. He was grateful to Ashley for being the one to let him spend time with his family.

Glancing at Ashley, he forced a smile slipping out of the car. The young woman was bouncing in her seat at the prospect of meeting you and the twins again.

She already looked up to you and she couldn’t help but think the twins were adorable.

“You don’t have to do this you know…I mean your dad is president.” Slipping out of the car, Ashley let out a gasp following the man.

“That’s to boring! It’s not like I’m gonna do anything fun! Besides I can watch the twins, maybe help them with an Easter egg hunt while you and Y/n have a little fun!”

Stumbling, Leon felt his cheeks burn for a moment. He wasn’t even sure how to respond to something like that. “Ashley!”

Not getting a chance to respond to him, her head snapped towards where the door opened. Two four year olds rushed out the door as you followed right behind them, you’d hand ok your growing belly.

Leon chuckled softly as he took the twins in his arms, giving you a soft smile. “How are you feeling!”

“You didn’t tell me she was pregnant Leon!”Ashley rushed over to you, her hand on your stomach. “Ah I felt the baby kick.”

Clearing out his throat, Ashley’s eyes went wide though a snort escaped her lips seeing that one of the children placed bunny ears on top of his head.

Hugging his children close, he stood up adjusting the ears. “Not a word out of either of you.” Forcing a smile he stood up smiling. “Now let’s go open some baskets.”

+•+

•+• Luis Serra •+•

“Ahh papa! Look at what the Easter bunny brought me.”

Turning his attention to his little girl, Luis chucked softy. Her face was covered in chocolate, and right now he was positive that she wasn’t about get any sleep tonight.

“Ah Conejita! You must be so happy!” Luis ruffled her hair.

The little girl letting out a bright giggle though her eyes went wide as she continues to search her basket for any other goodies.

“You spoil her to much you know.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Luis gave you a teasing smile. His arm wrapping around your waist tugging you close as his lips brushed against yours. “I spoil you to Mi tesoro. You were not complaining this morning.” His voice dipped as he gave you a grin, his hands now resting on your lower back.

“Luis!”

“Papa! What are you and mommy doing?”

Looking away, Luis gave your cheek a pinch as he turned his attention fully to his daughter. “Papa was just making sure mommy is feeling alright…she was quite tired this morning.”

Quickly losing interest in whatever you two might be talking about she turned her attention back to the Easter Basket.

“You’re unreal.” Giving Luis a small smile, you sighed as the baby monitor goes off. “But I love you so that’s all that matters.” You teased pinching his cheek the man let out a playful scoff as you walked off towards your son who was crying.

Watching you leave, Luis stepped closer to His daughter. The man was happy to have a second chance at life and he owed it to Leon.

“Happy Easter Papa!” His daughter gave him a bright smile shoving a chocolate bunny in his face.

Smiling he placed a kiss to her head. “Happy Easter Chiquita.”

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desertduality · 6 months

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Potential for Scar angst this episode was insane so I wrote this in one sitting. Alternate scene for when Grian finds Scar hiding out in his egg house :)

Here it is on Ao3

———

No one talks about it, but the tasks they’re given tend to mess with their head. There’s— There’s a pull, there, to comply. Scar still remembers the way his tongue had tangled on that first day, the way his throat had closed when he’d even thought about calling someone by their real name. He still remembers the sharp, punishing pain behind his eyes when he’d slipped up and said Mumbo’s.

There’s a sort of urgency, once the task has embedded itself into their minds. Scar feels it, that frenzied energy that sends him knocking down torches until he can finally hit the succeed button without doubt. The secrets pull at them, tug at them. Scar is trying not to compare it to an Evoker’s command, but it’s hard when the feeling is so similar. When trying to fight it now hurts the same as it did back then.

He’s been running for a long time when he finally collapses in Grian’s egg house, panting and sweating. The stupid helmet is still on his head, and every time he raises his hands to take it off there’s that same pain shooting through his head. Joel had told him to take it off, everyone had told him to take it off, so no matter how much he wants to he can’t. He can’t do anything that they want him to do.

None of them will want to ally, after this. He’s burned a lot of bridges, and while he’s not against a little arson now and again, he usually likes to have a choice. He values having a choice very much, ever since he and Cub had broken free all those years ago. He wishes Cub was here, now. It’s a cruel thing to hope for.

There’s a loose feather on the ground beside him, and he picks it up with trembling hands, twirling it between his fingers. It probably fell out when Grian was cleaning his wings. Preening, he’d called it, back in the desert. Scar hadn’t heard of it before. His own wings were the wispy gray of the vex, and even at that a pretty poor specimen. No preening required, and with a bit of magic to keep them hidden, it didn’t matter anyway.

The feather is still in his hand when Grian appears in the doorway, and Scar can only hold his breath.

———————————

Grian… did not do well underground. A creature of the sky scuttling around in caves was bound to come with its issues, and so by the time he gets out, he’s near starvation and has just over seven hearts left to his name. His wings feel grimy with dirt and dust, his legs weak and unable to sprint. His only consolation is that he’d had the good fortune to resurface relatively close to his base, and it’s with an unholy mixture of desperation and relief that he drags himself up the stairs to the egg.

He’s already stuffed about a dozen sweet berries into his mouth before he finally registers that Scar is there. He’s sitting in the corner behind the bed, quiet as anything, and alarm bells start sounding in Grian’s head. Scar usually has a presence that can’t be ignored. He seems almost diminished, now. It makes unease twist in his stomach.

“What are you doing in my house?” Grian asks, baffled.

He rounds the bed, and unease twists into full blown worry when he sees the way Scar is shaking, pupils small and breathing shallow, like he’s been running. He looks— hunted. Scared. Grian suddenly doubts he’s here to steal anything or cause trouble. He’s here hiding.

“Scar?” Grian says tentatively, crouching to eye level. “How are you doing, buddy?”

Scar looks even more panicked, if possible, his mouth opening and closing several times as if unsure what he should say — or what he’s allowed to say. Finally, Scar winces, a frustrated furrow between his eyebrows.

“…Neutral,” Scar says, a tired smile tugging at his mouth, not quite looking at him. “I mean— Good. No. Bad.”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Getting some mixed signals here, Scar.”

Scar sighs, and fidgets with something in his lap. “I’m— All of my allies are mad at me. The whole server is after me,” he says.

“Why?” Grian asks, because usually it takes a little bit longer for Scar to do something bad enough to warrant that type of server-wide behavior. Scar tilts his head forward as he sighs, and Grian realizes something else. “Why do you have a helmet on?”

Scar huffs a laugh that sounds more like a sob, and makes like he’s going to stand up, arms and legs moving in jerky, frantic movements. The feather he’d apparently been holding drifts to the floor, and Grian reaches out to grab Scar’s wrist without thinking.

“Everyone’s so concerned about the helmet,” Scar says, voice strangled and high. “It was an accident.”

“Why don’t you take it off?” Grian asks, genuinely confused, and Scar makes a noise like he’s been hit, dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed, head in his shaking hands.

It’s his task, Grian thinks, dropping Scar’s wrist, brow furrowed. Something to do with his task.

“Never mind,” Grian says, and sits next to him, wings stretching behind them. “It’s fine, Scar, just— Why don’t you just sit down a minute.”

Scar jerks to his feet, stumbling with the force of the movement until he catches himself on the wall, panting. Grian makes a noise in surprise, eyes wide in confusion as he looks at the tense line of Scar’s shoulders.

“I think I feel like standing,” Scar says, hoarse with forced humor.

“…Okay,” Grian says slowly, mind spinning. “You can stand, that’s fine, too.”

Scar sits back down, breathing like he’s run a marathon, annoyance flickering in his eyes like torchlight. Grian just stares.

“Nice bed,” Scar says, like nothing strange has happened. “Very soft.”

“Thanks,” Grian says flatly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Scar just shakes his head and closes his eyes, still breathing much too fast, hands fisted in the blanket they’re sitting on.

“Alright,” Grian says, letting himself relax a little bit, and he lays a hand on Scar’s arm. “Just breathe, Scar. It’s fine.”

A beat passes.

Scar stops breathing.

Grian looks over, questioning, and is met with eyes more panicked than Grian has ever seen before. Scar’s face is pale and his eyes are wide and terrified, a hand now raised up to his throat and starting to claw at the skin there. He is utterly silent, mouth opening and closing as he struggles, and Grian feels his own chest tighten, his own breathing quicken. He reaches for Scar with both hands, grabbing at him desperately as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

“Scar, breathe!” Grian shouts, but Scar only shakes his head violently and grabs right back at him, like he’s searching for support.

His task, what’s his task? Grian dives wildly into his memory for any clues, trying to make sense of the strange behavior from the past few minutes.

All at once, it hits him.

He’d asked Scar to sit, and he had stood. He had told Scar to stand, and he had sat. He had asked Scar to breathe, and he had stopped. It’s almost too obvious, looking back.

“Scar!” Grian shouts, panic forcing his voice louder. He ducks his head to meet Scar’s wet eyes with his own. “Scar, don’t breathe.”

Scar gasps and coughs, collapsing forward into Grian’s shoulder as he takes in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving and stuttering. A low whine of pain builds in Scar’s throat, and Grian just sits there and holds him, one hand on the back of his neck and one on his back. It’s hard to tell which one of them is shaking, but he suspects it’s probably both.

“I’m sorry,” Grian says, quieter now. “I’m sorry, Scar. I didn’t know.”

“…That’s kind of the point,” Scar says roughly, and coughs again. “Secret.”

Grian just sighs, and for a few minutes they sit there and breathe in the waning light.

“They keep telling me to take the helmet off,” Scar says, sounding distant and drained.

Grian feels a stab of sympathy and unwarranted anger. The others didn’t know, either. “Don’t,” Grian says. “Don’t take it off.”

A moment passes, and Scar reaches up with trembling hands to remove the helmet from his head. It makes a dull clanking sound when he drops it to the floor. Grian runs a comforting hand through his sweaty hair, and a bit of weight seems to leave Scar’s shoulders.

Fighting the pull of the tasks is difficult. If Scar had been able to focus enough, maybe he could have fought the impulse to stop breathing. Actively suffocating tended to make concentrating hard, though. He hadn’t had a chance. Not really.

“I’m going to fail this one,” Scar says, resigned.

“Maybe,” Grian allows, and thinks hard about how to word the next thing he wants to say.

“I don’t have any friends,” Grian says eventually, slowly. “I’m in the market.”

There. Nothing that could be construed as a command.

“Oh?” Scar says, muffled into Grian’s shoulder. “Me too.”

Grian hums, wings enclosing around them just a bit more. “How about that,” he says softly.

“How about that,” Scar repeats, tired but lighter.

Outside, the same stars as always hang over them, and they fall asleep without another word.

#secret life smp #secret life #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #my writing #desert duo #please pretend they are not having this heartfelt interaction in a literal egg house /lhj #anyway campaigning for scar centric hurt/comfort

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when-pigsfly · 5 months

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WITCHING HOUR [EXCERPT]— 18+

MINORS DNI! NUH UH!

fem!reader x arthur morgan

summary: most people in the area had issues with coyotes. yours wore a cowboy hat, but you let him in anyways.

a/n: putting off several papers to write out a dream i had about Arthur’s hat was NOT what i had on my bingo card. but who am i to deny the late night hornies? no hornies in this excerpt, though. but soon, very soon…

(i’m 5k in and nowhere near close to the end, plz pray that i get this done before it consumes me)

Arthur Morgan was a sly kind of handsome; the kind that mothers knowingly ushered their daughters away from, and the kind that the fathers of said daughters would brandish their guns against. But the crux of the matter was this: the mothers almost always had heated glances to spare, and even the fathers were envious of a man cunning enough to run circles around the authorities for as long as he had.

Which is exactly why, when he shows up on your front porch one late winter night, you take up the hefty mantle of digging your loaded barrel right into his sternum.

He raises his hands in mock surrender and cracks a rakish smile, bright as the moon peeking out from behind the top of his hat. There’s a rich blue winter coat that hangs open; a little odd, but people have made do with less. His black bandana is scrunched up around his neck instead of around his face this time—and you note with a squint that he looks a bit less like an outlaw, and a little more like a fumbling idiot.

Still, Morgan cut quite the figure when he wasn’t sneaking chicken eggs from your coop. You try and hold fast to the promise you’d made to yourself only a short while ago, catch him, catch him, catch him. But if the agitated shifting of the muzzle against his chest is any indication, you’d been doomed from the start.

The moonlight isn’t doing your resolve any favors either: it drapes itself over the smooth arc of his shoulders, caresses a strong jaw shrouded in long-forgotten stubble, kisses burning blue eyes that look as close to bashful as you’d ever seen them. There’s something else in there, too. Lurking deep beneath the blue and wading through the slight dilation of his pupils. It urges him closer—or is it you?—like the distance between the two of you isn’t sustained by the twitchy arms of a woman holding a rifle.

But there’s an abrupt breeze that fiddles with the cotton threads of your chemise, and you’re suddenly struck with the realization that no, your hunting rifle isn’t loaded, and you’re a tad overexposed. In your haste to get to the door of your cabin, you’d forgone the shawl and left your boots still haphazardly strewn in the doorway. But it’d do you no good to show your hand this early. So like the hiss of a rattlesnake, you keep your voice low, and you keep it lethal.

“You’ve got ten seconds to convince me not to unload this lead right into your chest, Morgan.”

#witching hour #ao3 #archive of our own #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2

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captain039 · 8 months

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Fangs

Astarion x werewolf!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, feelings, vampire things, werewolf things, jealousy, swearing, intimacy, first times, descriptions of puking xD, swearing, strangers to friends to lovers

Goddamnit I’m getting impatient I can’t wait six days😭

The amount of edits I’ve watched of him is sad

The call of the moon was always on your mind before the full moon. The tingling through your muscles waiting to be free out in the woods, hunt whatever poor creature was out there. It was the day before, you locked your chickens up securely, made sure to close off the garden as you always did and locked the house, you didn’t need a rampage inside, not again. You waited till sundown, sat on a log away from your house, a pair of old clothes on, than again all clothes were old when the full moon came, you never bought anything nice, too afraid to ruin it. As darkness crept over your hair began to stand up, you grew fidgety, muscles spasming. You felt the tug finally and groaned, you went to your knees and panted as you hunched over. Your bones began to crack and your skin began to shed. The whole process was painful and it felt like your mind always slipped away. Soon enough your beast form knelt there, large hands planted in the ground. You let out a grave howl and sniffed the air eyes piercing through the forest as you smelt your hunt. You launched off your hind feet, going down onto all fours as you ran, struggling to fully let go to the beast so you didn’t have to watch. It felt like you’d gone to sleep in a different body when you finally let go. The beast rampaging through the forest, tearing through the deer that it had found. Something was different though, a new scent on the air, strange, being so far out in the forest visitors never came, nor did travellers.

You jolted a bit when you gained consciousness hearing someone stumble back.

“Shit” you heard and snapped your head to see a pale elf with white hair. You frowned at him as he stared at you. You covered yourself the best you could, your beast hated clothing.

“I’m not dead, thank you!” You said and he gulped.

“I know” he said eyes darting awkwardly away.

“Are you lost?” You added feeling highly exposed.

“Uh, no” he said almost like a question.

“You don’t know if you’re not lost?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not lost” he huffed.

“Then go away!” You yelled.

“Right” the man said and hurried away and you cursed lifting your top half off the grass. You waited till you couldn’t see him and quickly darted back to your house. You grabbed a robe you left on the bench outside and put it on before going to your chickens. No damage, and still five chickens. You sighed grabbing their feed and letting them out. You grabbed your basket and gathered their eggs before unlocking your door and heading inside. You thought back to the elf, what a weird man, what was he going to do? rob your body?! Unless it was much darker than that. You shuddered at the thought at least you woke up in time. You didn’t make any food, after whatever the beast ate you were full and nauseous. You grabbed some tea, got dressed and sat outside to watch your chickens. You felt bile in your throat and groaned as you quickly moved away from your house and hunched over and threw up. You coughed and groaned quickly looking away from the chewed up raw meat.

“Oh gods” you said going to your bench with a groan. You wiped your mouth with you robe and shrugged it off, you’ll wash that later. You groaned again slumping against your cottage you took a small sip of tea to get rid of the acid taste in your mouth, before going to clean your robe.

When the next full moon came you didn’t expect to see that elf again, let alone have his fangs in your neck as you awoke. You tore him off and pinned him to the ground, grabbing his own dagger and pressing it to his neck. You panted anger flaring in your mind, beast begging to come up. You groaned fighting for control dagger dropping by his head making him flinch.

“Oh dear” he muttered one hand holding your hip lightly.

“Easy now” he said and you growled at him.

“Or not” he gulped as you tumbled off him. You shook, trying to take deep breaths, gods you didn’t want to change again. Your bones cracked in and out of place, wanting to shift, but you fought listening to the river and birds and finally, you calmed. You listened to the elf behind you shuffle before something was placed over you. You flinched and went to fight him, but realised he was just covering you with his shirt. You glared at him, but sat up, back to him and quickly put it on. You stayed seated in the cross keeping your hands over your lower parts, legs crossed as well. You pressed a hand to your neck and hissed gently. You pulled it back seeing blood and glared at the elf vampire.

“Listen please for a minute” he begged and you gave him a deadly look, also secretly admiring the muscle he had before cursing that thought.

“Or don’t, but, yes I am lost! I haven’t fed in a month not since you’ve apparently hunted everything in this Godforsaken woods!” He yelled and you raised an eyebrow at his stupid lie.

“Ok not everything, just, I needed something more to keep me going till I find somewhere” he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Human blood is so much more filling” he said and you made a disgusted face.

“Well beast blood in your case I suppose, hells that changing looks painful” he shuddered and you sighed.

“Will you please say something!” He said.

“Fuck you” you said.

“Thank you!” He sighed in relief.

“The village is that way” you pointed.

“How far that way?” He asked.

“A day or two” you shrugged.

“Follow the river” you added.

“Can I have my shirt back?” He commented and you froze.

“When I get back home” you said.

“Shall we just meet again in a months time so you can give it back?” He tried to joke, but you just glared and he chuckled nervously. You could feel the sickness again, your human stomach did not handle raw meat. You gagged a bit and turned away to puke again hearing the disgusted sound he made. You groaned standing up and going to the river. You washed your face before taking a small sip and sighing.

“Why eat it if you’re going to throw it up again?” He asked and you glared at him briefly, not having the strength to hold it though.

“I don’t control it” you said referring to your beast.

“It likes raw meat, I don’t” you sighed trying to find the strength in your legs.

“Would you like help?” He asked standing by you and holding a hand out to you. You wanted to slap it away, but sighed and took it. You felt dizzy as you stood, legs almost caving before he steadied you.

“Easy there” he said as you closed your eyes and kept your head down. You froze though when a tongue ran across the puncture wounds in your neck and slapped him.

“Hells!” He yelled holding his cheek and stumbling back.

“I healed it for you!” He groaned and you felt your neck with a frown, he did. You cursed him quickly storming off.

“My shirt!” He yelled, but you ignored him. He followed you back grumbling along the way, you grabbed your robe and shrugged it on. Counted your chickens and unlocked their cages before feeding them.

“Could you skip your rituals so I can leave quicker” he huffed and you huffed yourself unlocking your house and going inside. You shrugged off your robe and his shirt, smelling his scent in the fabric. It made you freeze for a moment, your sense of smell was always keen, but this smell you enjoyed. You flushed and glanced behind you before you sniffed it again sighing. You threw it on your bed though staring in horror, the hell did you just do?!

You got dressed and threw his shirt back at him and stormed back inside, door slamming shut.

“You’re welcome!” He yelled making your jaw clench as you filled the kettle.

“And thank you!” He added before you heard him leave finally.

You thought you were finally done with the elf vampire but seems fate had other ideas. It hadn’t even been a month, you weren’t lying out in the woods naked with his fangs in your neck. No he was haunting your dreams like some parasite in your head. Some were horrible, you tearing him apart while others were like you’d been friends for years. Who was he?

Next part ->

#astarion x reader #werewolf and vampire #x reader #astarion #werewolf reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Well for a part two I was thinking it could happen a few years later or something like that. Daemon and reader are married, she is pregnant but she doesn't know that yet. I was thinking it would be sweet for Daemon to figure that out. Maybe Caraxes gets extremely overprotective of reader. They could have a small argument wholr caring for Caraxes and it would turn in the dragon growling at Daemon when he would rise his voice at the reader. It all becomes real when she faints one morning after getting out of bed so Daemon calls the maesters and they confirm that she's pregnant. and maybe the moment of the birth, Daemon holding his first child and getting to place a dragon egg inside the crib. Just general sweetness. I would be very pleased if you'd like to write this ! If not it's perfectly fine ! Thank you !

I love your brain! It’s filled with fascinating ideas. Also I love protective Caraxes. It’s just perfect.

Newsflash: I’m shit at writing birth scenes cuz I’ve never done it by I tried my best despite some possible inaccuracies.

Reader is female per request. Just letting ppl know beforehand before I forget.

Here’s part 1 for those who haven’t read it.

Your love for your Daemon has often left you blindsided to his darker impulses that you had soon became repulsed by your sudden faux ignorance to his crimes you’ve long kept silent about. Yet you found yourself still in love with him as the day you understood the word and shown said love in a multitude of ways that you probably shouldn’t have; so when news of Rhea Royce -Daemon’s bronze bitch of a Lady wife before you- having passed away on a hunting trip, the cause having that been of her horse being frightened by some means, crushing and as an result paralysing the poor woman. Those minor details didn’t catch your eye but what was added onto it oh most definitely did; apparently it was said that her head had been caved in and along with the apt timing of Daemon’s visitation at the Vale almost corresponded perfectly to the time of Rhea Royce’s death also too perfectly to be ignored by the public.

It fell together so seamlessly that it was no longer thought to be an outlandish accusation to assume that Daemon Targaryen, your husband, had killed Rhea Royce out of cold blood. You found yourself at a loss for words, torn between creating a false narrative to save face and protect Daemon’s ‘innocence’ and going mad within your denial of the truth presented before you as clear as day. It was obvious that to live someone was one thing but to defend their unjust cruelty towards others was another. Maegor was called ‘the cruel’ for good reason, given the how history written him to be; as it seemed history held an eternal grudge against house Targaryen and was willing to bury those who bore the name as repercussions for the wars they’ve waged and the homes, families and kingdoms that now laid to ruins because of them. It was only a matter of time before Daemon received similar treatment long after his passing, have his history written through venomous words and accounts from those who only ever spoke ill of him in life and death. It was also a matter of time before history treated you just as equally horrid as it would Daemon, Rhaenyra and Viserys.

Unfortunately you knew that many of the cousin members and even the king would already be privy to whom the most likely culprit was, given how eagerly Daemon was of disgracing Rhea’s name and insulting her beauty by claiming that the sheep of the Vale were prettier then her in front of an audience. You also knew that you’d sooner be caught in the crossfire unwillingly as a means of tarnishing your name along with his for keeping dark secrets concerning the kings brother for as long as you have in hopes of toppling you both and be done with it once and for all. No matter how much you wished to fight by Daemon’s side you have found yourself unable in your current state as of late; you know naught of how or when it came about but it is believed that it had started the first morning after you and Daemon consummated the marriage. Only then did it seem to linger longer then you had hoped days prior and have yet to speak a word of it to Daemon never less the Maesters but that could wait as there were more pressing matters to confront your beloved on firstly.

“Is it true?” Daemon’s ear picked up at your voice as he lowered himself from Caraxes back, “my spouse, you look as radiant as ev-“ “silence your silver tongue husband and answer me, is it true?” You cut him off venomously, not particularly in the mood for his honeyed words. “Why don’t you cease speaking in riddles and tell me what ales you so much to bare the vipers venom on your words.” Daemon began to hate the fact that slowly and surely enough your eyes were beginning to open and see him for whom the seven kingdoms truly saw him as. No longer were you carefree kids anymore and sooner or later uncomfortable realisations would have inevitably been made. Yet Daemon didn’t think that they’d poisoned your mind so quickly as they have and for which he would have their tongues for so they would never speak a word within your presence to doubt his character ever again; because to Daemon you were merely voicing the accusations that the kingdom have made against him, that it was the Seven kingdoms and his own brother that were forcing you into thinking him, your beloved, a villain in means of causing a rift between you too.

Daemon has fought tooth and nail to have you and he wasn’t planning on letting you slip over to their side so easily. Yet when the words flew from your lips and into his skin, Daemon could feel the prickling feeling of ice flooding his once fiery veins. “That you killed Rhea Royce as a means of selfishly securing yourself of the royalties of Runestone.” The air between you felt as though at a boiling pit and a subzero zone simultaneously as it only became increasingly difficult to breath in either conditions. Caraxes seemed to physically stiffen at your words as his eyes shifted from you to the back of Daemon’s head who’s silence didn’t help his case nor hinder; feeling as though you were in danger the Blood Wrym moved to shield you until he practically eclipsed the entrance to the cavern like stable of his. No matter how good natured his actions may have been they didn’t simmer the unease within your chest when Daemon looked at you like a stranger.

“Your believing them too now?“ he says eerily, lingering in the air to further build upon the unsettling feeling within your stomach as everything within you screamed, urged you to run from the one person who sworn to keep you safe since a young age. So when you didn’t and his hand laid upon your cheek felt as cold as ice as your breath hitched at the contact and instinctively pulled yourself away from his grasp and in the the broad front of Caraxes who towered over you silently in thought. “They’re poisoning your mind my beloved, they’ll say anything to cause conflict between use because they are jealous that what we have is real in comparison to them. We made our own choice whilst they did not in they wanted to spend their putrid lives with; they want to see us fight, the want to see us collapse so they may move in and claim whatever they want as their own. What evidence do they even hold over me to stake their claim?” Daemon’s eyes searched your tearful ones only to find that deep down you were at war with your heart. “Your visitation to the Vale is enough evidence, you snide comments is enough evidence, your eagerness to bed another whilst still in relations with her is enough evidence to be made against you Daemon. They have everything you have ever said against Rhea Royce and had it engraved in their memory for moments like this. Your carelessness has brought about your own end my beloved and in due time everyone will know. If they don’t already.”

You felt yourself fighting hard to remain able to withhold your ground during your squabble as your consciousness wavered in and out of focus as Daemon’s words only sounded muffled in your ears as though you’ve been held underwater; yet it didn’t take a fool to not notice the enraged look upon his face as he closed the distance between you two, gripping your wrist a tad too tightly for your liking and along with the anger in his eyes made you all the more fearful that in your moment of weakness, Daemon would take the life of his second victim, his sweet childhood friend, out of fear that you’d betray him like everyone else did. It scared you to think that the one person you’ve loved more then anything held the ability to kill you right then and there without any witness nearby to oversee the curfuffle nor come to your defence. Instead you closed your eyes and awaited the worst when Caraxes leaned his long next over you to shove Daemon away, causing his hand to loose grip of your wrist as he fell on his backside harshly. “Caraxes! What is your issue! You’ve been like this for awhile now!” Daemon yelled up at his dragon who merely roared in his face, silencing the Targaryen quickly.

Neither you nor Daemon were quite certain what had caused Caraxes sudden change in personality because in recent memory the dragon had always been seen more so by your side then Daemon which raised some rumours that have long since been forgotten by mostly everyone. In reality however Caraxes was merely protecting you and the unborn babe within your womb and in turn had be growing protective of you ever since he could sense the additional life next to yours. So when Daemon exuded a threatening presence towards you and in extension his kin, was Caraxes final straw. Daemon had ruined everything in his life thus far and the dragon didn’t want the only consistent in his life since he was a babe himself to face because of his human’s impulsiveness; To Caraxes you were just as much apart of him as Daemon was and to be apart from you was akin to loosing a limb, all though it maybe gone, you can still feel it’s presence episodically.

Whenever moments like the one between you and Daemon were to ever arise, Caraxes felt the need to protect you, his mother, and going against his Targaryen counter part to ensure your safety even if it means harming another to achieve it. “Caraxes.” You whispered faintly before allowing the dragon to encouragingly nudge you out of the stables, allowing you to rest your full weight against him as he escorted you back to the castle, where he’d await to see you from the windows of your chambers before clambering back to the stables to whack Daemon upside the head with his tail for good measure before forcefully shoving him out also. Still angry at him for threatening yours and your child’s safety.

The next morning became a struggle for you in particular. The mere act of getting out of bed had become a difficult task as you heaved with all your strength to push yourself in to a sitting position before trying your luck once more to push yourself to you feet when all suddenly became black and your body slumped to the floor; causing a great thud that alerted Daemon, who had long since calmed down from your argument, to quickly take to his sword and rush up to your chambers in perpetration to fight off whoever sneaked into your room whilst you were in your most vulnerable state. Only to find your body pressed uncomfortably against the cold chamber floor, unmoving, fearing the worst; Daemon threw away his sword to one side as he rushed to your aid, cradling you in his arms, his face a mere contrition of all the emotions he was feeling in that moment. Guilt over never apologising to you for his heinous actions against you, anger over his own need to protect his pride when he swore to protect and defend you just as much, sadness for how your dream life seemed to have taken for the worse then he promised you and an overwhelming feeling of being lost without you guiding him like the light he knew you were.

Daemon wasn’t the only one who heard your fall as several servants rushed not too long after the prince to check upon you but not out of your safety but only out of fear of what Daemon would do to them if they had left you in such a state. However as much as they prayed to be spared of any punishment, it seemed to have gone unheard as when they opened the door to witness Daemon hold you in his arms so crushingly tight; they were met with fierce violet eyes that pierced through them and into their souls in hopes of sparking a fire that would kill them from the inside out. “What are you idiots standing there gawking like seagulls?! Fetch the Maesters!” Daemon roared in anger, watching as they scrambled, shoved, pulled one another behind the other as they raced to get out of the room to evade Daemon’s wrath. The prince scoffed in disgust but his features quickly soften as he looked down at you with all the regret one man could ever bare upon his face; the day of your argument haunts him so but nothing haunted him more then the look of fright within your eyes at his sudden outburst, almost as though you were anticipating a repeat of his actions at the Vale.

He didn’t care what anybody thought about him, he couldn’t care less if in their eyes they see a monster but he couldn’t stand to be viewed the same in yours. As children he swore to protect you from all those who’d dare chase you harm but he didn’t know that there would come a day where he’d be the one bringing harm to your front doorstep. Now he wasn’t certain he was going to be given the time to repent for his actions as he held you close against his chest, refusing to let go even as the maesters came through the doors, tried their might to pry you from his arms only for him to tighten his hold before giving in to their pleas to check you over under the circumstances that he were to stay by your side. “My prince,” the Maester began after checking you over thoroughly before coming to a resolution, “it seems that your spouse is with child and has fainted but luckily has not sustained any injury that would cause her highness nor your child any prolonging issues.” Daemon’s eyes never left you face as the news struck him. All this time you’ve been with child and he has the nerve to place you in a stressful situation where your emotions would be tested to their limitations; He grasped your hand tightly in his, “thank you, you may leave us.” He dismissed the Maesters who bowed and left your chambers so the prince could shed his tears in peace. “We’re going to have a child.” Daemon muttered to himself, resting his head gently against your stomach, “we’re going to have a child. Oh gods bless this day and the many more to come until their arrival. I promise to better myself not only for you my love but for myself, Caraxes and our unborn child.” He promised.

The day of your child birth came swift and soon though not without excruciating pain. Though it was all the more rewarding when you got to hold your child within your arms with Daemon by your side. “Healthy as a horse your highness.” The midwife claimed before handing you the child that clutched to your fingers, cooing. You looked to Daemon who only stared down at the child with love, reaching a finger out to stroke his cheek and smiling when the child’s smaller fingers grasped onto his longer nimble one like a life line. “Have any thoughts on what we should name them my love.” You asked softly as to not disrupt the baby form their slumber. “I believe it is in your right to name the child as only one of us had bled to give them life my beloved.” Daemon said, kissing your slightly sweaty forehead gingerly, never breaking his gaze from the babe bundled in the blooded cloth. “Rhaenar.” You concluded post haste, smiling when the child cooed at the chosen name, giving their incoherent approval. “Rhaenar it shall be.” Daemon replied, holding you tightly against him as you both looked at your child, taking in the features they inherited from the both of you from Daemon’s facial features to your eyes and so forth. The silence lingered for as long as you allowed until Daemon removed himself from your side to elsewhere in the room, leaving you albeit confused until you saw him return with a pitch black dragon egg within his hands. You were aware of the Targaryen customs for when a new child under their house is born, they are gifted an dragon egg that will hatch into their bonded dragon; So to bare witness to it for your own child left a warmth within your chest knowing that for good or for bad, you were a Targaryen as much as your child was.

“I handpicked this myself,” Daemon explained as he placed the dragon egg into the crib with care, “may I?” He asked, gesturing to the child. “Of course they are your child as well Daemon.” You chuckled as you handed Rhaenar over to him, watching with love and adoration in your eyes as he cradled the child to his chest, smiling brightly when the child reached for his face to which he leaned down for the child to poke and pull lightly at his platinum locks. “I shall protect you and your mother from all harm but that also means that when you get older you must uphold that same promise also.” Dameon spoke softly to the child before angling them so they were facing you on the bed, “your mother is the most beautiful in all the seven kingdoms, even if she does bite my head off from time to time.” You scoffed playfully, “I do no such thing Rhaenar, don’t listen to your fool of a father. He tripped over his one feet when I said yes to being his.” Daemon covered the child’s ears as he glared at you playfully, “don’t want you ruining my reputation in front of our child now or else he’ll think I’m soft.” “You are soft though Daemon, hate to break it to you.” He chuckled in response as he placed the baby down in the crib though not before pressing a kiss to their forehead and a quick ‘I love you’ to join you in bed. “Such a tragic fate to befall a man to unconditionally love his child and lady.” He joked, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Yes how unfortunate indeed.” You joined in, snuggling against his side as you both watched over your child protectively.

Bonus:

Caraxes strained his long neck to the window of your chambers to get a look at the child, cooing softly as he watched the two newly made parents snuggle up in bed whilst watching over their child. The babe would grow into someone extraordinary under you and Daemon’s parentage the dragon concluded. Though he’d soon smack Daemon once more for claiming that he chose the dragon egg when in actual fact it was Caraxes who had chosen the egg. Daemon was going to gift an ugly mishmash of a brownish-red egg before his dragon pointed him to a more suitable egg. If one squinted however not only would you be able to see that while it was an entirely pitch black egg there was hints of fiery red here and there. Caraxes was happy to see his family grow slightly larger, though more so he was happy that his Targaryen decided to grow up for the sake of you and the family. He couldn’t be more prouder…now how was he going to explain that he practically demolished some architectural structures just to bare witness to the childbirth…

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pastelclovds · 12 days

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hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

#꒰ 💕 ꒱ ⎯ nex #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims #am #ihnmaims brainrot #am x reader #ihnmaism x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #horror #꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ ⎯ ame writes #dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character

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raven-awed · 1 year

Text

Defense Lessons

Professor Aesop Sharp x fem reader

Summary: Sharp offers Defense Against the Dark Art lessons to J. Pippin’s new employee.

A/n: Couldn’t resist writing for this sexy professor. I’m hoping to write a part 2! Thank you @minichrismd for the help!

*Not my picture

Professor Sharp opened the door to his office and shuffled in. With a flick of his wand the candles and lanterns illuminated.

His office was immaculate, as usual, a potion master's paradise. His shelves were stocked full of every ingredient imaginable, from Ashwinder eggs to Wormwood essence. There wasn’t a single conceivable potion he wouldn’t be able to brew with this stock.

He sighed, glancing down at the full bag he lugged into Hogwarts with him and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. Slowly, he moved to the attached closet, glaring at the door before pulling it open. A frown formed on his face as looked at the crammed shelves and the materials spilling over onto the ground.

Sharp was completely aware that he didn’t have the space for any more ingredients, but he couldn’t resist stopping at J. Pippin’s when he saw that y/n was tending the counter.

That’s how this whole mess started in the first place.

Roughly a month ago he had gone in to purchase Dugbog Tongues, as he no longer felt up to venturing into the Forbidden Forest to hunt down his own. Afterall, he wasn’t a spry wizard anymore, unable to maneuver through the thick woods or climb like he used to, especially with his limp.

When the door chimes had rang over his head, he wasn’t greeted by the familiar face of Mr. Pippins, but the warm smile of a lovely stranger. The gruff professor nodded politely as she welcomed him in and introduced herself as Mr. Pippin’s new assistant.

Her good mood must have been infectious because he soon found himself making small talk with her. She had easily impressed him with her potion’s knowledge and her eagerness to learn and improve. Perhaps if his students were more like her, he’d have more hope for the future.

He huffed again, looking at his recent purchases on the floor. Now everytime he found himself in Hogsmeade, he made some sort of excuse to see her. He dragged a hand over his face, he was too old to be acting like such a fool. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a pretty face anymore, even if she was pleasant to talk to.

Grabbing the new supplies from the floor, he unceremoniously shoved them in the closet and slammed the door shut. He’d deal with that some other time.

In fact, a certain red headed Gryffindor came to mind, he’ll be overjoyed the next time he sneaks in here to steal ingredients. Sharp could just let him know everything in the closet up for grabs, but it was more fun to make him work for it. That Weasley boy would rob him blind if Sharp isn’t careful.

The week progressed as usual, lessons, potion brewing, sending students with minor burns or cuts to the hospital wing. One student had managed to singe his eyebrows off, it was probably the most memorable event of the week.

By the weekend, Professor Sharp was ready for a break, he went to the Three Broomsticks by himself and had a few drinks. He didn’t see y/n on his way over when he passed the potion shop, just Mr. Pippin assisting a couple of customers.

He sighed as he finished his last drink of brandy, setting the empty glass on the bar and rising to his feet.

The autumn air was brisk and the sun was beginning to set as he started walking back to the castle. On the bright side, he saved a few galleons by not spending anything at J Pippin’s, that man already has enough of his salary.

As he slowly headed back to the castle, Sharp froze when he spotted y/n walking towards him, or to be more precise towards Hogsmeade.

A wide friendly smile made its way on her face as she waved at him. “Good evening, Professor Sharp!”

He nodded, “Evening.”

She looked a little less composed than normal, her hair a slightly out of place with leaves sticking out, she was wearing pants instead of her typical uniform she wore at the shop, and there was mud caked onto her boots.

“Did I miss you at the shop?” She asked, her voice was light and sweet. “I was just out collecting some ingredients in the forest.” She held up her sack.

He shook his head, “I’m already set for the week with ingredients.” And probably for the rest of the year, he thought to himself.

They continued to walk towards each other, meeting halfway. Sharp narrowed his eyes and immediately pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh?” Y/n blinked in surprise while the older man began to clean the blood from her temple.

“What happened out there?” He asked firmly, on the outside he appeared as calm and collected as ever, but he’d be lying if he said that his pulse didn’t start racing at the sight of y/n hurt.

“Poachers,” she answered quietly. “Didn’t know I was so close to their camp before they attacked.”

Sharp frowned, lifting the handkerchief to get a better look at the wound. The cut was long and gushing blood, there also appeared to be some dirt mixed in.

“I’m alright, really I am,” she tried to reassure him, placing her hand on his.

“We should go to the hospital wing, have the nurse check it,” he suggested.

“It’s just a scratch-“

“There are all sorts of things out there in those woods, could get infected if you’re not careful,” he explained. “Come on.”

“But I should really take these back-“

“Your health is more important,” Sharp pointed out. “Parry will understand.”

Sharp escorted y/n to the castle and up to the hospital wing. He lingered while she was examined, sitting quietly with his brow furrowed, while he mulled things over.

It wouldn’t be reasonable for him to ask her not to go back, especially with her line of work. Perhaps he could suggest that next time he could accompany her, however, as a retired auror he knew that dangerous witches and wizards were everywhere, not just lurking in the Forbidden Forest.

From what he had seen y/n had proven to be a capable witch, skilled at potions and quite knowledgeable about other subjects, maybe with more support she could learn to properly defend herself. She most likely knew the basics, but he could show her a few more advanced spells, help her be prepared for next time.

Sharp cleared his throat, his dark eyes locking onto hers as the nurse finished treating the wound. “Starting next week, I’d like to offer you lessons.”

Y/n lifted her brow and tilted her head, “Potion lessons?”

“Defense against the dark arts lessons,” he stated, rising to his feet. “With some practice, I’ll have you ready to take on any dark witch or wizard.”

He acquired a practice dummy from Professor Hecat and brought it up to his classroom. He flicked his wand and all the tables and potion stations moved to the side clearing the space in the center of the classroom.

They met once a week for lessons, Sharp taught y/n advanced spells that were not part of the basic curriculum as well as strategies he had used back when he was auror. Sometimes two seemingly unrelated spells could be a powerful combination if used in the right order at the right moment.

Sharp’s main goal was to get y/n more accustomed to using these spells, make it so it was second nature for her to defend and attack if posed with a threat. The only way for that to happen was practice, lots and lots of practice.

Her nerves and discomfort were apparent from the beginning. Her hand would tremble slightly each time she attempted to produce a combat spell.

“Defensive magic wasn’t exactly my favorite while in school,” she explained one day as Sharp pushed the practice dummy in front of her. “Was always too much pressure, too much risk, I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

Sharp sighed, “Unfortunately the world doesn’t share that mindset, cause out there,” he gestured to the window, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who couldn’t care less who they hurt, and if you’re not prepared, you’ll wind up injured again or worse because of one of them.”

Y/n nodded, taking his words in, she hadn’t shared with him how shaken up she had been after the attack. In all honesty, she was quite scared that something like that would indeed happen again.

“Let’s retry that spell,” he directed. “And no holding back this time. It’s important to have conviction when casting, remember that.”

Y/n practices the spell a few more times, getting better with each turn. She wondered if Sharp is this patient with his actual students; she had graduated from Hogwarts before he took on the role of Potions Master.

“You’re improving,” Sharp pointed out as they finished for the evening. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good night Professor Sharp,” y/n smiled, heading towards the door.

He frowned for a brief moment. “Y/n?” He called.

“Yes,” she answered, spinning around on her heels to face him.

“You know, it’s unnecessary for you to call me ‘professor’,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “You aren’t my student.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” y/n pursed her lips for a moment. “Mr. Sharp…?” She addressed him, but unsure as the words left her mouth.

“Aesop would suffice.” His eyes remained as cool as ever, but in truth the matter had been bothering him for quite sometime now. Her referring to him as Professor Sharp presented a hierarchy when there shouldn’t be one, or at least he didn’t want her to think there was one.

“Oh, alright,” she responded, a little wide eyed, heart fluttering more than it should. “Good night Aesop.”

A barely noticeable half smile formed on his lips as he prepared his classroom for the following morning, it even remained as he retired for the night.

In the weeks that followed, Sharp observed y/n’s growth, she had become more confident and casted spells with ease. But besting a dummy in the safety of a classroom was nothing like a real duel.

“Today we will be doing something different,” he explained while shucking off his coat and laying it on the back of his desk chair.

Y/n tilted her head, face heating up as Aesop also removed his tie and vest. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“Dueling,” he answered with a smirk.

Her face fell, “Me duel you?”

His smirk grew, “I’ll go easy on you, but this is the best way to see how you’d fare in an actual fight.” Aesop drew his wand, “Ready?”

Y/n raised her wand but she hesitated to cast a spell, Sharp, however, didn’t.

“Expelliarmus,” he shouted.

“Protego,” she responded just in the nick of time, deflecting the curse.

Flashes of lights lit up the classroom as the duel evolved into a dance as they circled each other. There wasn’t a single pause or lull between spells.

“Depulso!” Y/n blinked in surprise when the spell actually landed, sending Aesop flying back. Immediately she rushed over.

“Aesop!” She knelt beside him, her hands cupping his face as he groaned slightly. “Are you hurt?”

Her touch was so light and gentle as she cradled his head. It had been quite a long time since anyone touched him like this.

Looking up at her so close to him, his face began heating up. Sharp cleared his throat, “I’m fine.”

“Looks like you can hold your own in a fight,” he commented, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He frowned for a moment as his own words sunk in. “I suppose that means you don’t need anymore lessons,” he explained solemnly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed, with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

They both stood at the doorway, realizing that they wouldn't be seeing each other anytime soon.

Sharp could try to go back to the shop, but he knew after spending so much time in his classroom that she had noticed his well stocked shelves. He racked his brain for another excuse to spend time with her but he was drawing a blank.

He sighed, glancing at y/n, she had probably had other things to do tonight, “Well, good night-“

“We should get drinks!” Y/n chirped, interrupting him. Her face revealing her excitement over the prospect. “To celebrate and as a thank you!”

“As a thank you?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes! For teaching me how to properly defend myself! Nothing big,” she rattled on. “Just drinks and maybe dinner. Does next week work for you at the Three Broomsticks?”

Aesop smiled, “See you next week.”

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp #professor sharp x reader #female reader #reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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