I Had To Reblog This Just Bc Of The Sheer Work That Went Into It

I was trying to make some shifting aesthetic with Madoka (she is my baby)

(I forgot to save sketch but well I have this)

Venus

❤︎‬ first comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage... ❤︎‬ jericho ichabod x fem reader ‪ ❤︎‬ wc: 5k ❤︎‬ content warning(s): nsfw, breeding/lots of explicit mentions of pregnancy ❤︎‬ jericho ichabod is from the kid at the back being developed by fantasia-kitt ❤︎‬ mdni banner by cafekitsune

“what do you see yourself doing in the future?”

you blink, the distant twinkling light of the stars wavering as your vision refocuses. you crane your neck to the side, and you find your best friend, jericho “crowe” ichabod, peering back at you. he looks so beautiful, with his long hair loose and gazing at you as if you had hung the stars in the night sky. you almost feel a little shy from the eye contact. no matter how long you’ve been by his side, you can’t seem to properly adjust to just how sweet and effortlessly charismatic he could be. 

“the future…,” you mumble over the words as if chewing them over, “well, i’d like to save my family farm, for starters. but you knew that already.”

a devious idea pops into your head, and a grin sneaks onto your face as you turn to look back into crowe’s deep blue eyes. “and once i’ve done that, i’d like to marry my best friend someday. except he’s just so awfully shy that it’ll probably take us a while to get there.”

his eyes widen before he lets out a sheepish laugh, turning away from you to poorly hide his warming cheeks. he waves his hand as if trying to create some space, but he doesn’t make any real effort to move away from you or anything. “i’m being serious here!”

“who said i wasn’t being serious?” you quickly quip. you puff your cheeks out in a display of mock frustration. “quit beating around the bush and make me an ichabod already, crowe! once we’ve done that, i think it’d be nice to have a family too. would i be being too greedy if i said i wanted three kids?”

you can tell it’s taking everything in your usually well-composed friend to keep his calm facade. he can’t quite meet your expectant gaze, and you can see the hint of a barely repressed smile threatening to overtake his countenance. his normally collected voice trembles a little when he responds to you. “you’re not being greedy so long as you’re ready to bear the responsibility of being a parent. what kind of kids are you hoping for, my starlight?”

you pause to think about it slightly. in all honesty, you’d be happy with any family you could have with crowe, kids or not. just the thought of being able to have crowe by your side like this for the rest of your life has your face feeling tingly and your heart doing cartwheels. still, it’s not like you haven’t daydreamed about this before. if you close your eyes, you can basically imagine the scene in front of you. 

boughs of golden wheat bounce back and forth in the gentle breeze. the dimming sun slowly crawls across the horizon towards its resting place for the night. the persistent song of cicadas and grasshoppers fill your ears, signalling the classic symphony of summer nights you’ve always grown up with. crowe looks a little bit older in your daydream—there’s an air of refined maturity around him, but his eyes hold the same fondness towards you they’ve always had. you can hear the excited squeals of young children as they play a few feet away from you, mud smeared over their tiny hands as they try to catch the tiny bugs that flit around in the air. 

“i want a cute baby. one that looks just like you,” you answer after a few moments worth of deliberation, grinning to yourself at your idyllic daydream. “what about you? if i said that i wanted kids with you, would you want them too?”

“i want anything that you want,” he smoothly entertains your idea. your happiness is contagious, another mischievous grin creeps up the corners of his mouth until he can barely hide the giggles threatening to overtake him “except i think i’d like our children to look more like you.”

he stops to let out a dreamy sigh, as if the vision of your future happiness that you painted aligns perfectly with his. it does. “my hope for my future is just about the same as yours. as long as we can stay together… i’d be happy no matter what we do.”

…

…

…

you should know by now not to joke around with crowe. 

as patient and as understanding as the young man is, he’s the type of man to take your teasing and return it tenfold. he’s repaying your tantalizing words with spades, but you’re too fucked out to make heads or tails of it all.

all you care about right now is how good his body feels. you’re sitting perfectly on his lap, his thick cock in between your shaking thighs and stuffed into your drooling cunt. his pretty hands are all over your chest, and you let out a pathetic whimper as he slowly gropes at your tits, big palms massaging the soft flesh. you feel so weak against his bigger form, molded perfectly to where he wants you to be. you’re in the palm of his hand, moving exactly to how he wants you to.

“hush, starlight,”  he whispers. you can hear the satisfaction in his voice. “i’m here to take care of you. you were the one that wanted this so badly. you were the one that brought this up first.”

truth is truly stranger than fiction. one moment crowe was offering to walk you home after keeping you at the park so late, and next thing you know, your mouth is on his and the two of you are stumbling into your dingy apartment. your clothes are scattered all over the floor, and your cheap mattress creaks from your combined weight with his. every time you or crowe moves slightly, it lets out a whine in protest, but you’re too preoccupied with the fact that you have his dick inside of you. 

you let out another desperate cry when crowe shifts his hips slightly, rolling his length into you and grinding up into your velvety walls once he bottoms out into you. fuck—he isn’t doing anything that extreme to you, and your mind is going blank. his thrusts are so slow and sensual, not even enough to set a steady pace and more akin to cockwarming than anything else, but it feels so stupidly good to have his cock stuffed into your needy hole and stretching your pussy out. has his dick always felt this good? or are you so drunk off of your emotions that your body is betraying you this quickly?

“you were talking such a big game earlier,” his voice echoes around your ears again. “telling me that you wanted me to marry you and give you children. don’t you have me right where you want me? oh, my love… don’t tell me that you can’t take it.”

“you’re being unfair-,” you manage out weakly. “you- you feel too good inside me…! every time you rub against me, i can’t think!”

he only chuckles under his breath. “you make it so easy for me to love you… if you’re losing your mind with me only doing this much, you’re going to make me waver too… i really wanted to take my time breaking you down, but if you’re begging for it, then you really leave me no choice.”

your breath audibly hitches when his fingers roll over your hardened nipples, and you whine like a bitch in heat when he pinches at your nipples carefully, tugging ever so slightly at your tits. heat flutters up your chest and your stomach, and pleasure flashes somewhere deep in your brain. your cunt coils around his twitching length, squeezing him even more than you already were. 

“don’t play with my boobs like that, i’ll go crazy!” you sob. it’s too good. you’re so in love with him that everything he does to you goes straight to your cunt. everything he does to your body feels so good that you feel like you can’t breathe. 

his fingers hesitate, just hovering above your sensitive nipples. you choke down a frantic gasp, momentarily thinking that he was finally being nice enough to listen to you. but when you feel his fingertips trace down the silhouette of your body before resting in between your thighs. you grit your teeth when he starts to toy with your clit. his thrusts slow down before he keeps you grounded all the way to the hilt, stuffed straight into your cunt. 

“you’re right. apologies for being so careless, my dear,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. jolts of red-hot, electric pleasure grip at your stomach. he rubs slow, sticky circles against your sensitive nub, moving just the way you like it. “how could i forget? if i really want my cum to take… i ought to make you cum a few times first. make sure you open your womb up to me…”

you can’t think. you feel like you have to physically remind yourself to breathe. inhale, exhale, while crowe pinches and presses his fingertips against your clit. it feels so good to speared open on his swollen cock, but when he’s not moving and only playing with your clit, the arousal is almost too much for you to handle. you want him to fuck you, to be true to his word and make you cum your brains out and fill you up with his babies. 

“d-don’t just play with my clit…!” you eke out, desperate to feel anything. no matter how much you try to grind down on his cock and try to get some movement, crowe stays steadfast in making sure you don’t feel any excess pleasure. 

you feel like you’re melting against his body. you swear you can feel his weeping tip prodding against the entrance of your womb, and you’re overwhelmed with just how much you want his cum inside you. but once crowe has his mind set on something, he isn’t the kind of person to give up. 

and he thinks you’re so adorable, shuddering and falling apart the more he plays with your poor clit. the heat in your core keeps mounting relentlessly, thrashing and swirling deep in your belly as if it's a caged beast demanding to be released.

god, you’re falling apart so quickly. you’re letting out desperate, incoherent cries, stumbling over your words as you moan nonstop. “ah- feels good- you’re being so mean to me- playing with just my clit when i want- when i want you to fuck me with your cock instead…!”

crowe knows how to rip apart your seams. he’s the only man in the world that could make you cum this fast. you can feel him whispering sweet nothings to you with his characteristic amused lilt in his voice, but all of it goes straight to your pulsing cunt. you’re drooling all around him, wet walls making a mess out of his twitching cock. you’re milking him, fluttering around him so sweetly, and he wants nothing more than to give in and fuck your brains out while breeding you.

but crowe is nothing if not a gentleman. and a gentleman must be patient. you’re already at your limit, so it’s really just a matter of time before you crumble completely and crowe can move in for the sweetest kill. 

“think ‘m gonna cum-,” your voice wavers so beautifully as you throw your head back. your hips lurch unconsciously, not sure whether or not to chase the overwhelming pleasure of his ministrations. “fuck- gonna cum…! gonna cum from having my clit played with-!! you’re the worst-!”

“now, my starlight, surely you don’t mean that?” he chuckles. he pinches your clit in retaliation, and he’s rewarded with such a lovely anguished cry from you. “i told you already. i’m merely preparing you for what’s to come.”

you’re clenching and unclenching all around his cock, your gummy walls clinging onto every inch of his thick length. your hands grab at whatever you can hold onto. your toes curl, and the edges of your vision are going blurry. crowe can feel his hand muscles aching, but he doesn’t want to stop, not when you’re this close to cumming.

you clench your eyes shut, jerking up against crowe’s body. “cumming- fuck- ah…! it’s too much- can’t take it- please…! i’m cumming, i’m cumming, fuck, fuck-!”

your orgasm grips you from the inside out. something deep in your tummy explodes, and heat consumes you whole. you let out a strangled cry, your voice wavering and breaking as pleasure overrides every one of your senses. your walls clamp down on his cock, and your poor cunt spasms all around him. it’s so dumb and it’s so good, just the thought of being spread open and fucked out and going dumb just from being penetrated by crowe’s cock. 

ever the sweetheart, crowe keeps playing with your clit through your orgasm, jolts of electricity pooling in your stomach. even though you’re still wading senselessly through the most gripping high of your climax, crowe needs to see more from you. he’s not satisfied with plunging you into these depths once. 

you push weakly at crowe’s hands when you can muster the strength to do so, your clit numb and tingling from how much crowe’s abused it. “i-i just came…! don’t keep playing with it- too much-”

somewhere deep in your mind, you can feel the dull thrums of arousal starting to awaken again. just cumming from having your clit played isn’t enough—you need more. your body’s still reeling from the electric shockwaves of your first orgasm, but at the same time, you want him to make you cum on his cock. you want him to hold your legs open and fuck load after load of his cum into you, only stopping when you both know that he’s fucked a sweet little baby into you.

just the thought has your stomach doing flips. you keep squeezing around him, subconsciously clenching and drooling all over his length. it drives him crazy to know that you’re still raring to go. you two really can’t resist each other.

“forgive me, love.” you know he’s not actually asking for forgiveness, not when you can tell that he’s far too pleased with himself. “it just feels so good when you cum around my cock…”

you whine. “you’re awful, crowe!”

his movements falter. you tense up when you feel his dick twitch inside of you. something in the air visibly shifts, and you let out a gasp when crowe’s deft fingers glide upwards across your stomach. you gasp when his sticky fingers grab at your face, and his fingertips press into your cheeks. he cranes your face slightly, exposing the side of your neck to him completely.

“crowe?” he repeats the nickname you called out. “oh, you’re breaking my heart. and here i thought that you’d at least have the decency to moan my real name…”

he presses his lips to the side of your neck, showering your sensitive skin with a flurry of sickly sweet kisses. you can feel your heart flutter as his light touches spread over your neck, the affection making you melt in his embrace.

“i want everyone to know that i’m the one who got my hands all over you,” he murmurs against your skin. “that i’m the one that made you feel this good. that i’m the one who got you pregnant. you know my name, dear. or do i have to give you a more thorough reminder?”

a chill runs down your back when you feel crowe shift his hips, and a moan lodges itself in the back of your throat as he slowly slides his cock out of you. you almost instinctively brace yourself when you can only feel his tip buried into your warmth, pussy practically leaking from how much you want to get fucked.

he thrusts. hard. one full motion to wedge his entire length back into your walls.

“jericho.” his hold on you is firm. “that’s my name. moan my name, starlight.”

he thrusts again, and you whimper when you can feel every inch of him spreading your walls out. he wiggles his hips slightly before fucking into you over and over, and you stumble over your breathing as heat claws at the inside of your tummy.

“oh- ah- jericho!” you cry out. your pussy flutters around him as you moan his name. some sick part of you is thoroughly enjoying being claimed and fucked into mindless oblivion. you’re his. all his.

pleasure shoots straight into your core like a bullet. fuck—fuck, this was all you wanted. you don’t even get a proper chance to collect your thoughts before crowe is fucking into you with a vigor you’ve never seen before, pumping his whole cock in and out of you as if he’s determined to break your cunt. your mind immediately goes blank as pleasure and heat shoot throughout your veins like a kind of poison, and his hand slides down to grip at your neck possessively. 

he isn’t actively choking you, but he’s very clearly staking his claim over your body. your pleasure—and now, even your breathing—are all dependent on how merciful he’s feeling. you can feel your stomach tie itself into knots at the thought. he’s so kind and yet so demanding at times, and just thinking about being tied down to him forever has your cunt tightening up with need.

he laughs softly. you can feel some of his long hair brush up against you when he leans forward to press another kiss to your throat. “there we go. much better, isn’t it? say my name again.”

even though he isn’t moving particularly fast, he’s moving deep and hard. each full-bodied stroke has you seeing stars. you’re gasping for air whenever his tip presses up deep inside of you, just ghosting over that one spot jericho knows you love so much.

“jericho! jericho- fuck!” your mind’s getting all scrambled up. “wh-what more do you want from me?”

“you said it yourself earlier. you want a baby with me.” his hold on your neck shifts slightly, and his teeth ghost over your neck. your walls contort around him. a chilling plunge of pleasure creeps down your spine at the thought of him biting you. your mind spins as you envision yourself, all fucked out and babbling, as jericho sinks his fangs into your skin and marks you both inside and out. 

you brace yourself when you hear him suck in an inhale. with a well-timed thrust, he bites down on your neck. pain momentarily shoots through your body, but you let out a loud moan as it dissolves into a kind of mind numbing pleasure. you can feel him applying just enough pressure to leave a mark, wanting everyone to see who it was that laid their hands all over you. it makes your insides stir.

“jericho, you- you’re so…!” you can’t bring yourself to finish your statement. you’re bouncing shamelessly on his lap, unable to get enough of the addictive rush shooting through your body. his tongue lovingly laps over the bite marks on your neck, and another shiver runs down your spine.

“i know, my dear, i know…i want to make you mine. through and through,” he whispers against his handiwork. his hands are moving all over you now: caressing your sides, pressing against your stomach, tracing the outline of your thighs. “you understand, don’t you? i can feel you tightening up around me… you like this as much as i do, don’t you?”

you don’t have anything to say to him. you let out another round of incoherent cries as he fucks you over and over on his cock, your hips lewdly moving up and down in a feverish need to take as much of him as you can. jericho knows how to read you to filth, and even now, as he fucks you open on his cock, all you can think of is how he’s the only one that could ever make you feel this good. he’s stuffing you full, and the promise of having your womb filled with his sticky cum makes your mind spin. 

you’re going insane. your cunt offers no resistance, your juices only making it that much easier for him to slide his entire length in and out, in and out of you. the pressure in your stomach only grows and grows. the heat in your body twists and slinks around under your skin, and the overstimulation makes your mind go blank. you need it, you want it, but god, it makes it feel like your body’s being set on fire. 

“ah! if you- if you fuck me with your whole cock after you’ve made me cum, i’ll actually lose my mind!” you protest weakly. that stupid jericho! he knows your body too well, and he’s using every scrap of knowledge against you. he’s making you feel so good that you think you’ll go crazy, and he looks as unfazed as ever.

his voice is laced with a kind of lovesickness as he bounces you on his lap, wet sounds of skin on skin echoing all the room. “so tight- so tight and wet… perfect for my cock, perfect to be bred… you’re taking me so well. it makes me so happy to know that you wanted this as much as i did.”

his hands go to cup your chest, and he’s back to unapologetically groping your tits while bouncing you on his cock. you grit your teeth as he deftly teases your nipples, tugging on them just the slightest bit. your senses are fried to hell and back, overwhelmed with everything he’s doing to you. your previous orgasm only accentuates the pleasure, your clit tingling as his heavy balls slap up against it with each calculated stroke.

“so pretty… doing so good for me…” even his praise feels like teasing, especially when his tip is bullying your cervix. his thrusts are faster, deeper now, focused entirely on maximizing how good you feel so that he can fill you up. his palms squeeze at your tits greedily. “i can’t wait to see how pretty you’ll be with my baby inside of you. swollen and glowing, all because of me… can’t wait for your pretty chest to be filled with milk too… leaking with milk to feed our babies…”

your cunt clenches around him. his words are going straight to your pussy. his hips shift, and you think you’re going to cum. you can’t take it anymore, everything has been boiling up inside of you. just thinking about how much you’ve longed for him, longed for a future with him, makes your heart swell up. you really must be nothing more than a lovestruck pervert, getting off this much to the thought of your first love marrying you and fucking a baby into you.

“‘m gonna cum!” you whine. “if you talk like that- fuck me like that- i’ll cum!”

“that’s what i’m here for,” he grunts. his balls twitch against your entrance when he hears you whimpering about cumming, and you know he’s getting close to his limit too. his once sharp thrusts are getting more and more sloppy, and his breathing is also growing more shallow and ragged. “it’s alright… cum as much as you want. are you close?”

“yes-,” you choke out. your vision is growing hazy, blurring around the edges. you’re not sure how to comprehend all of the stimuli racking up on your body, but you want more of it. you love being stretched out jericho’s cock, love being fucked stupid, love it when he uses your body the way he wants to. “so close- wanna cum so badly…!”

“tell me you love me,” he pants out. something in your stomach lurches. your cunt keeps milking his cock, desperate to be painted white with his cum, and it’s driving him just as crazy. “it takes two people in love to make a baby… tell me you love me, and then- and then, i’ll let you cum as much as you want.”

your heart stirs inside of your chest. that’s so like jericho to believe in something like that. you don’t doubt your emotions towards the princely young man. your attraction, your trust, and your connection to him all has to stem from that simple four letter word that has you acting simultaneously like a maniac and a fiend for another taste of his attention. there’s no other word that can be used to describe why your body reacts this much to his touches, why you keen and crumble under every one of his kisses, why it always feels like heaven when you give into his disarming advances.

“i love you! i love you, jericho!” you moan out. you feel so full, so giddy, so drunk off of everything he makes you feel. his cock stutters inside of you as jericho takes a second to soak up your confession, the slightly possessive edge he tries so hard not to show flickering somewhere underneath his demeanor. 

“i love you too, my starlight. i love you. i love you.” he fucks harder into you, and if it weren’t for his tight grip on you, you might have collapsed entirely against his chest by now. “let’s be together forever.”

his hips stutter against yours, and he grabs at your hips, yanking you down as far as you can take him. you let out a strangled cry, your voice tinged with need, as you feel him push into you until he bottoms out inside of your cunt. you instinctively brace yourself. you just need a little more. just a little push, and all the pressure building up in your core could come loose.

“ah-!” 

you feel his cock twitch and throb dangerously inside you, and something deep inside your stomach explodes. ropes of sticky cum flood your womb, and you can’t take it anymore. jericho shifts his hips against yours, grinding up against your pussy, and you’re cumming your brains out with a cry of his name. the knot in your stomach snaps, and you’re gushing around him, your juices mixing together with his. you can feel his semen seep deeper and deeper into you, settling somewhere so deep inside you that you think you can feel it take almost immediately.

your head feels heavy, overrun with the ecstasy of something bordering between love and submission. you came from being creampied, from having a baby fucked into your cunt. you can feel jericho’s soft pants fan out against the back of your neck as he buries his face where your shoulder meets your throat, lips glossing over your sweaty skin. he lets you ride out your high, and you swallow thickly, much needed air filling your strained lungs. he keeps you firmly planted on his lap, using his cock to keep all of his cum plugged up inside of your cunt. 

“i came-,” you breathe. your voice sounds so weak and soft. “i came from getting creampied…!”

“you did well. that’s my darling.” jericho presses another flurry of sweet kisses to your body, and you can’t help but feel a little shy when his hand ghosts over your lower stomach again, right where his cum is settling inside of you. his fingertips trace the shape of a small heart. “you’re going to look so, so beautiful with my children. you’ll be glowing. i’m sure of it. i’ll take such good care of you. i promise i will.”

heat rushes to your face at the thought of being fawned over even further than jericho already does over you. you can feel his half-soft-half-hard cock stir inside of you at the thought of you pregnant, and you bite back a small laugh. for someone so gentle and so thoughtful about his every action and word, he really just couldn’t control himself around you. his palm presses up against your stomach carefully, and you sigh when you can feel his cum sloshing around inside of your belly. your head still feels a little fuzzy from the electric aftershocks of your back-to-back orgasms, but with jericho’s cock buried snugly inside you and keeping you plugged up and full with his semen, you can’t help but want another taste of the divine bliss. 

“someone looks like they could go for another round.” you crane your neck and raise your hand to comb your fingers through jericho’s silky hair. “already getting hard again?”

“we can take a break if you want.” his lips stretch out into an angelic grin, and he moves into your calming touch. “but… i want to make sure it takes properly. wouldn’t hurt to keep going just a little more… i’ll make sure you feel good the entire time, my starlight. that’s my job, after all.”

it’s your turn to smile at him. you’d be lying if the thought of getting fucked senseless in all sorts of positions all night until you have no choice but to get knocked up didn’t turn you on. you know that you’re the reason jericho’s this insatiable, and having given him the okay only made it that much easier for him to drag you into the depths of his infatuation.

“tell me you love me first,” you mimic his words from not too long ago. “then i’ll let you go at it.”

surprise flickers across his pretty face, but it quickly melts away into a fondness in his eyes that he reserves solely for you. your heart swells with affection as he moves in to kiss your face, his lips fluttering all over your jaw and cheeks before landing on the corners of your lips. 

“i love you. i promise to love you forever. let’s spend the rest of your lives together, okay?” he asks tenderly before capturing you into a deep kiss. you reciprocate, letting him kiss you over and over again until you can feel your skin tingle dangerously again. 

“of course. i love you too, jericho.”

élisabeth vigée le brun: marie antoinette and her children

Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him

Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.

How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.

Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.

Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.

Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.

“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.

-1 memory +1 gender

Superior Mates: Nolan Grayson X Male Reader

Summertime Prompt: Day 4, Omegaverse AU Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘father’ Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Sex, violence, mentioned character death Warnings: Omegaverse, a/o, Viltrumite culture, imperialism, blood, smut, anal sex, breeding, bonding as mates, reader is a Viltrumite, Nolan being an asshole, Debbie mentioned, Mark is dead Summary: Nolan wasted seventeen years playing human, now he wants something from home.

The rush of air hits you before you see him. You had been standing in your kitchen, simply staring at your fridge to decide on a snack but clearly Nolan has a lot more going on. When you shut the door and look up at him you find him covered in blood and panting. His shoulders move up and down with every breath and his bloodshot eyes are full of that familiar Viltrumite rage that reminds you of home.

“What happened?” You ask, unfazed as you wet a towel in the sink.

“Mark.” He says simply, almost growling.

You approach him slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder and feeling his muscles relax under the touch. No doubt he’s calmed by the natural Omega scent. You run the towel over his blood covered face and he closes his eyes to let you.

“Is that who you’re covered in?”

“He refused.”

“Then you did the right thing.”

He sighs. “Waste of my time.”

“Seventeen years is nothing, Nolan.”

He leans into your hand as you run the towel over his cheek. “I want a Viltrumite.”

“Then raise the next one on Viltrum.”

His hand grabs your wrist and squeezes with a force that would’ve broken a human’s bones. “I want a Viltrumite.”

“Your obsession with fatherhood is concerning.”

His grip loosens and he runs his other hand through your hair. “You’ll think the same during your heat.”

You scoff. “I’m not mating with you, Nolan. We have a planet to conquer.”

“And it’d be easier with a few kids to help.” He says softly, rubbing your head. “I’d fuck you over and over until we had our own planet’s worth.”

“You’re assuming I want kids because I’m an Omega?”

He grips your hair. “Because you’re a Viltrumite.”

“Yeah, and I’ll do my duty and have the necessary number.” You sigh. “At some point.”

He shakes his head. “Now.”

You shove him away, turning back to the kitchen. “Go back to your little human toy, Nolan.”

He glares. “She can’t handle what I want to do.”

“Then go home and pick up some Omega bitch there.”

“They wouldn’t be you.” He seethes. “I want the father of my children to be you.”

“And I want to snap your neck, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“They sent us here.” Nolan growls, moving to stand in front of you. “They expect us to mate.”

“If they did, we’d have orders.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at him. “I need to fuck something that can take what I give it for once.”

You stare at him, watching his eyes turn from a glare to something more honest. “Fine.” You sigh. “Once.”

“All night.” He squeezes your shoulder. “Let me fuck you until the sun rises and we obliterate this rat infested planet.”

“I’m not having your kids.”

“I know.” He moves his hand to cup your cheek. “Not tonight, but eventually.”

You roll your eyes and he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Is there anyone else you’d want to do that to you?” He whispers. “Anyone better suited?”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Depends. Can I at least pretend I’m fucking Mark’s replacement into you?”

“If you make me cum twice as much as you get to.”

He smiles. “Deal, Omega.”

His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, teeth and tongue with so little care but so much desperation. In a flash you’re in your bed and he’s palming you through your pants and his other hand squeezes your ass. His dick presses against your leg, taking over the length of your thigh as he grinds against it.

“I’ve wanted you since we got sent here.” He mutters. “I wanted to fuck you in front of this whole planet of inferiors and show them how perfect a Viltrumite Omega takes it.”

“Then why aren’t you fucking me yet?”

He chuckles. “I was trying to be a gentleman. Human sentiments, they must’ve worn off on me.”

“I didn’t sit through your sob story to not be knotted tonight, Nolan.”

He groans, leaning up to rip his clothes off. “Fuck, I missed Vilturmie Omegas.” He rips your pants off and grips your hips to pull you closer. “You know you’re superior, not whiney like bitched humans.”

“Happy to be of service to the Empire.”

He groans, lining himself up. “Is that what that slick’s for? The Empire?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to press closer. “No. That’s all for my Alpha.”

He stills, timidly running a hand over your taint, hardened dick, and up your stomach to rest on your chest. “Let me mark you.”

You meet his eyes, his scent hitting your nose. “I wanna feel you inside me first.”

He doesn’t hesitate, plunging inside of you and pulling your hips flush against him. His dick fills you completely, the tip pressing so far in that it bulges out your stomach even through your layers of muscle and fat. He holds himself there, leaning over you as he licks at your scent mark.

“Good enough?” He mumbles, kissing the sensitive spot.

Your legs are frozen around him, your body split open and head foggy from the Alpha arousal scent. “Y-Yeah…”

He leans his head up, a hand brushing through your hair. “Who’s your Alpha?”

“You… Alpha.” You shutter as his dick twitches inside of you. “Nolan.”

"taste"

☆"you're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin', my body's where they're at"☆ Wearing Arcane characters clothes {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, a bit of fluff, Viktor calls reader a whore, a bit suggestive for all of them

an: this is the case for all my titles, but I feel I should clarify; the songs are not meant to accompany the headcanons, I just get lazy when naming things so I cherry pick song lyrics then use the title lol.

♞Vi♞

♞Vi never thought she would have to worry about her clothes going missing. They're all tattered and torn, holey from all the times she's been cut or stabbed, blood stained from all her injuries throughout the years, and absolutely falling apart at the seams. Hell, her own shirts are so ruined she usually just walks around in chest binding bandages. Granted, stealing Vi's clothes started from an accident of convenience.

You didn't think anything of it as you slipped on the old thing, the writing so faded you could no longer make out the outlines of the letters and the color so sun-bleached it just looked a dull beige. There were holes along the shoulder blade, rib cage, and chest, the hems had long since unraveled, and the neckline had been cut. It Vi wasn't so averse to throwing things out, it's home would've been the garbage can ages ago. But still, it was comfy and clean and something of hers, so you pulled it over your head and carried on into the laundry room where you sat on top of your washing unit, vibrating along with the clunky machine beneath you. You decided to read as you wait, eventually become so engrossed with your book, you miss the sounds of Vi trudging her heavy feet across the floor as she returns from her most recent bout of getting her ass kicked. She hums her way around the space, painfully shrugging her jacket over her aching shoulders, enroute to the laundry room where she finds you, ankles crossed with some old mystery book in your hands. She gawks at you for a moment, not quite knowing what to say at the sight of you in her clothing. It looked good on you. Well, everything looked good on you, but this looked right. "Did you get all dressed up for me, pretty? You jump a bit at the sudden intrusion of her slightly gravelly voice, but eventually relax into her warm, musky presence. She knows how you feel about her smearing her bloody lips across your freshly showered skin, so she bites her lip to swallow her urges. "Depends, did you get yourself all battered just so I could patch you up?" She snickers, wiping the remnants of dried blood from her top lip. "Will my honest earn me a pre-shower kiss?" Of course, you nod your head. You have a very hard time denying her, not even bothered by the feeling of her gauze bound hands grip on your thighs and your skin beneath her shirt. She whimpers, leaning heavily onto the washer, her fingers likely leaving marks from how desperately she grabs at you for stability and her own sanity. She doesn't realize until the adrenaline wears off how much tonight did a toll on her, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head on your shoulder. "You need help to the shower?" "Yeah", she murmurs, hardly louder than a whisper, holding onto your waist as you hop down and sling your arm over her shoulder. "No more pit fighting for a while?", you question lightly, to which she responds by pulling a hefty bag of coins from her pants pocket. "Not for a few months."

★Ekko★

★Ekko has a commune, he is absolutely no stranger to sharing, especially when it comes to clothes. As many times as you have snuck a few of his jackets over the years, he has taken his fair share of your tops, liking the way they constrict and show the definition of his biceps and show off his sculpted lower abdomen. You swap rings, hair ties, and all sorts of accessories, it's another way that you two are visually all over each other. I also wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to buy things knowing they would eventually end up in your closet.

★This being said, you would have better luck getting a reaction out of him showing up wearing nothing rather than in his clothes, at least clothes that aren't important to him. He's so desensitized to the idea of sharing; a regular hoodie wouldn't get him going. Wearing something of his though, his jacket, his mask, replicating how he does his face paint, that would certainly get him. It's the explicit connection to him that gets him, it's you proudly wearing an echo of Ekko.

It was cold and wet and dreary. The sky was grey, and murky puddles formed in the innumerable cracks and crevasses in the dirty floor of the Undercity that the ground began to look like a muddy sea of water. It was the perfect day to be inside, maybe make some warm soup, put on a vinyl and pretend the crackley sound bites are early lightning bolts, and bundle up beside Ekko and call it a day before the sun went down. This was not the case as Ekko was out covering the gardens so they wouldn't be flooded by impure water and preparing for any potential storm surge, leaving you home alone, wrapped in his favorite jacket. You doubted it would be a big deal, it's not like he's ever been upset about borrowing his clothes without asking before, but his reaction when he returns home scares you for a moment. His eyes are closed as he walks through the door, carelessly toeing off his shoes, lifting up his already soaked shirt to wipe the running face paint before it gets into his eyes. From your place on the couch, you look out the window for the first time in hours to see it pouring down, the droplets pelting on your windows and the wind sending the occasional pebble flying at the glass. "I'm telling Scar to do this shit next time, it's too damn w- oh." He freezes, midway through yanking off his raincoat, eye's slightly irritated as they stare at you. oh? "Is that my jacket?" You falter a bit. "Yeah...is that ok?" You had no plans of going out in it, wearing only some old cotton shorts whose elastic waistband snapped years ago and a thin tank top. You didn't even have a bra on. He collects himself though, smirking as he looks you up and down, how good the color compliments your complexion, drinking in the slivers of skin, the sight of your nipples through your top. Of course it's ok, in what fucking world would it not be? "Yea, baby, it's fine." His mumbles, his voice lower and his eyes a bit wide. "You look good in it, too. C'mere, do a spin for me."

❂Jayce❂

❂This man is 6'7 and built like a brick shithouse, his clothes absolutely swallow you and he thinks it's adorable. He gets a fit of cuteness aggression, he just wants to squeeze and hug and kiss you until you pop. It speaks to that part of him that is quite aware of his sheer size, his biceps are the size of your head, you have to look up just to make eye contact with him, his clothes practically fall right off you. He's just so...big.

He awakes slightly startled and feeling empty, immediately feeling your lack of warmth in his arms and slightly panicking. It's too early in the morning to be rational and his frequent nightmares are doing him no favors. He hates waking up alone and cold, he feels like he's waking up in that cave again. His senses calm his rapidly beating heart, the comforting smell of coffee and something syrupy sweet, the sound of something sizzling on the stove. He throws the comforter off him, cringing at the feel of the cold floor on his feet before he throws on some socks and sweatpants to wander around half-asleep in. His brain short circuits when he sees you, his large shirt practically hanging off your shoulders, flowing around your bruised and kiss-bitten thighs. You moved lithely around the kitchen, going back from chopping strawberries for the waffles, stirring the eggs, flipping the bacon, and he's man enough to admit he's blushing a bit. You made breakfast for him! That's so cute. He slides behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, bending down to plant kisses on your neck. "My shirt looks really good on you, gorgeous." You giggle, turning around to face the big man behind you who picks you up by your hips to set you on the countertop, settling in between your thighs. "You think?" He hums. "Maybe a few sizes too big, but it's endearing. You look like a little fairy, like I could carry you around in my pocket all day." And his eyes are big and out of focus, that charming gap-toothed smile on display as his hands rub over your smooth skin, pushing his shirt higher and higher. Too big is certainly a familiar sentiment, how desperately you were crying that out just last night is still looping in his brain as he says it. "Maybe I'm normal sized, and you're just a giant. Have you ever thought of it that way?" He chuckles. More times than you can imagine.

☽Viktor☾

☽Hard immediately, next question. His work outfits look completely normal on him, but the buttons pop at your chest and the vests accentuate them in a way that's pornographic. Even his ties only serve to enhance the fantasy, even though they are the exact garments he wears to his lab every day. There is nothing innately sexual about it at all, but that's the fun of it. The fact thar you chose to wear that black lacy bra that you knew would show through the top, the way you wear his reading glasses low on your nose, the red bottom heels that you wear, which in any other context could be seen as perfectly appropriate work attire. It's the performance of it that he appreciates.

He knows exactly what game you are trying to play with him, no matter how hard you try and play coy. There is no way that you accidently shrunk your blouse in the wash, hell, he knows that's not your blouse because the buttons are on the wrong side for it to be female attire. He knows that's his tie, he is one thousand percent sure that if he was to yank you by it and check the underside, he would see his initials embroidered. He knows you left it loose on purpose, you have requested for the entire relationship to pick out and tie his ties for him, he knows you can make it tighter. Everything is utterly loose, for lack of a better word. The top button is undone, the tie isn't completely tucked under the collar, the slit of your skirt is not where it should be. It's a play at looking professional that you and him both know is just a test to see how long it takes for him to crack and rush you both home. At first, he's willing to play ball because you always crack first, but today, however, you decided to be serious about your productivity. He tries to focus, he really does, but after a while the clicking of your heels becomes too hypnotic, the fake attempts at adjusting your tie begin to pile onto the sexual frustration, and you lean over one too many times, giving him a good whiff of your perfume and oh you went with a red bra to match his red tie. He waits for Jayce to leave the room, slamming the book he was 'reading' shut as he lets out a very aggravated breath. "I want my shirt back." Cut and dry, his hand flipping the tie you're wearing to confirm that is indeed his. You smirk, and he would feel the need to wipe it off your face had it not been for the fact that he swallowed his pride hours ago after his hard on became too much to ignore. "You want it back now? Right here." And you're already slipping off the other buttons and he contemplates whether it's worth it to barricade the door with the table to buy you more time or be rational and tell you to stop. "Had I known you planned on being a whore today, I wouldn't have invited you over." You pout as he pulls the knot of his tie, grabbing your hands to bind your hands. "But don't I look pretty, Vik?" He rolls his eyes. "You look magnificent, love."

☼Mel☼

☼Like Ekko, she isn't a stranger to sharing clothes with you. Even if it's not hers, she has an exact replica tailored just for you. This being said, she loves playing dress up with you with her clothes. Anytime she needs to clear out her closet or has an article of clothing she doesn't know how to feel about or just gets bored, she'll call you to wherever she is and request you be her doll for a little bit.

Though you had been in Mel's closet for what had to have been hours at this point, you couldn't really complain. Never had you felt more pampered in your life, tens of gowns, trousers, and blouses gracing your skin as you twirled on the platform in Mel's closet as she analyzed the garment from every angle. Now you stood in something white and flowy, the sleeves long, the bodice double lined for winter weather, the hemline off the shoulders and trimmed with fur, the bottom thick and heavy. "What do you think lovey? Do you think it's too on the nose, you know I've never been the biggest fan of fur." Her hand feels across your chest, dusting off where some of the fluff had fallen and rubbing the soft material in her hands. "I don't see you in fur, it's too much of your mother's thing, but I do think it's nice. The lining is really nice on the skin, sorta has a fleece feel to it." She nods, moving her hands along your waist to connect with the silver zipper. She clucks her tongue. "Would I be silly to not wear it because the zipper isn't gold. I know it's a miniscule detail, but I really don't do silver." You chuckle as you look around her closet, a room larger than the bedroom you grew up in filled with racks of clothes that had some sort of golden sheen, be it from the color of the fabric, some sort of metallic accent, or a reflection from the general vibe of the room. "My love, you have so many clothes in here I doubt you would wear it regardless." She smiles. "Are you getting tired of this." You hesitate, which is plenty answer enough for her. You had been standing for hours at this point, and your back was starting to ache from how straight your back had been. "Do you have it in you for just one more. I promise, it'll be quick." She already has it out of the box, a very small party dress that you had never seen her wear before. "I bought it months ago but have been going back and forth between whether or not it would look better on me or you." Of course, you oblige, and she giggles as she zips you out of the dress, carefully sliding it off until the fabric pools around your nearly naked body. Her tunnel vision is briefly abandoned as her movements slow, lingering over the curves of her body, her fingernail tracing tiny hearts on the skin of your chest. "I know I say this every time, but you truly do look beautiful out of everything. Undressing you may be my favorite part of this." You playfully roll your eyes. "Stop being a flirt and just zip me into the dress, I want lunch."

not enough stories go for the lycanthropy-as-menstruation angle tbh. sure I see plenty of "time of the month" jokes but there's so much unexplored potential. scatterbrained werewolf feeling cranky and exhausted for no discernible reason before checking their phone and seeing the "your transformation is in two days" notification like "oohh right. the horrors." werewolf girl losing her whole mind trying to excuse herself from a function so she can go transform but noooo she can't just say that's what she has to do because it's "impolite" or whatever and she has to keep making vague excuses with weird euphemisms. werewolf guy having an awkward conversation with an acquaintance who keeps talking about the divine lycanthropic and the mystic properties of the wolf and moon, and like, he's not going to tell them that their relationship with their own transformations is wrong, but for him it's just this kind of annoying kind of painful thing he needs to deal with sometimes? and it feels weird elevating this basic bodily function of his to something quasi religious?

Danny: "Sometimes people say things or look at me in a way that makes me feel like every part of me and everything about me is wrong in some way. But when you hold me, I start to think that you being willing to hold me and wanting to hold me means there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me, because you wouldn't be holding me like I'm something precious if there was something wrong with me..."

(I just imagined Danny saying something like this to Damian and realized this could work as something he could say the anyone you want to put him with so I'm just gonna drop this here for y'all to do whatever you want with...)

one of my favorite things to do in limited perspective is write sentences about the things someone doesn't do. he doesn't open his eyes. he doesn't reach out. i LOVE sentences like that. if it's describing the narrator, it's a reflection of their desires, something they're holding themselves back from. there's a tension between urge and action. it makes you ask why they wanted or felt compelled to do that, and also why they ultimately didn't. and if it's describing someone else, it tells you about the narrator's expectations. how they perceive that other person or their relationship. what they thought the other person was going to do, or thought the other person should have done, but failed to. negative action sentences are everything.