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sexysadie23 · 1 month

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The Old Boys Club | Rafe Cameron

Author’s Note: Hiii! This is depraved. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. You are responsible for your own media consumption. I was watching The Batman and I loved the aesthetic of The Iceberg Lounge so that was the inspiration, alongside a Selina Kyle-esque waitress. Please enjoy. A Part 2 is possible :)

Tags: innocent!reader x older!rafe, CEO!Rafe, sleazy!JJ, sleazy!Kelce, sleazy!Topper, naive!reader, smallchested!reader, wife!reader, pre-established relationship, daddy kink

Warnings : I mentioned reader having a small chest, Highly misogynistic behaviour, mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex, corruption kink, minor bondage, unwanted adultery ig??

The lights were red and flashing, one blink after the other, blinding you for a millisecond when the flits of darkness overcame the haze of smoke and ignorance. The warehouse-turned-nightclub had so many people in it, too many, that there was no room for air. Each one surrendering themselves to the night. To the shadows which protected their guilty pleasures with a vengeance, hiding them from the shame that came with exposure.

Smoking, drinking, alcohol, drugs, sex. It was all blurred together into one unfocused scene where bodies became one and nobody cared for anything. Looking around at the mass of bodies and addictions, you realised why they clutched to the latter. For without them, the room would be unbearable.

You’d never understood the experience. Going to night clubs and staying out all night had never been on your radar, especially not with your conservative mother. She liked you in your room, cozied up with a book and tea.

That was all you had ever known. And it was something you came to enjoy. In college you were never the wild party girl, always too uncertain to feel safe at the scene. The rules your mother had set clung to you like a vine.

But that’s what he liked about you most. He’d had his days of partying to the point where he couldn’t remember his own name. He’d slept with the drunk girls who he’d regret afterwards every time. He’d done every drug under the sun. So when Rafe Cameron saw you, the sheltered, naive little doe that didn’t speak until spoken to - he was dazzled by what he saw - an opportunity.

That was unknown to you though. Rafe Cameron came into your life like a wrecking ball. A tall, strong, successful and welcomed wrecking ball. One that had you kept, that protected you and never left you wanting. You were wholly fulfilled now that you had met your soulmate, who worked day and night to provide a lifestyle that according to him, was everything you could need.

He’d been at the office since the early hours of the morning, too early for you to cook his breakfast and kiss him goodbye. It was a Friday night though which meant that straight after work, he went to Interlude. A lounge and nightclub that housed the city’s most notorious mob bosses. You hadn’t, and didn’t expect to see him until the morning.

That’s why you were surprised that his assistant called you, mid baking cookies, informing you that your husband wanted you to pay him a visit at the lounge tonight.

The request was odd, truly out of character. Rafe had laid down some ground rules, guidelines as he dubbed them - which you willingly obliged, and one of them was no alcohol, no drugs and no clubs. You could go to parties as long as he was in attendance.

Was this a test? You wondered for a second. But another rule was to trust and listen to Rafe. You figured it was better to go and find out than not go at all. Besides, you missed him already and it had been less than 24 hours since he was inside of you.

You got changed from your nightie into something more appropriate for leaving the house. You dawned a casual pink sundress, and slipped a black bow around your hair. Rafe preferred you in the feminine, and you’d come to enjoy it. You looked at your walk in closet and saw only flats. Another rule: No heels whatsoever. (He liked how small you looked beside him). You brought a jacket just in case. Having never been to a club, you didn’t no if it would be cold or not.

Yet when you made the distance from Rafe’s private driver into the club, it was then that you could feel the heat which controlled the room. It seeped into your skin and your lungs and you then decided that bringing a coat was a bad idea.

The lights continued to blind you until you saw someone, a waitress who was wearing a pink wig and, well, barely anything else by the looks of her diamante bra and mini skirt - which was more like a belt. You all of a sudden felt ridiculous in your sundress and became aware of how every woman in here was wearing sultry fabrics barely concealing their skin. Whereas you looked like you were ready for a picnic. These were the women Rafe saw on a regular basis?

The waitress’s eyes flitted toward your lost looking figure - doe eyes taking up half your face as your expression gave away that you were both scared and lost. They’d eat you up if you didn’t find who you were looking for. Lord knows you weren’t here for fun, that much the waitress could tell.

You could see her bejewelled heels clacking in your direction and you looked up to meet her eyes.

“You lost sweetie?” She asked, cocking her hip against the empty tray she held. Up close, you could see her bra stuffed with wads of cash.

“Um- yeah. I’m looking for someone. Do you know a-“ though you were cut off as a bunch of rowdy men in suits shoved you as they made their way through. You shrunk in on yourself while the waitress glared at the men. She smoky gaze returned to you,

“Sorry sugar. Guys in here can get carried away. Who d’ya need?”

You exhaled slowly before speaking again. “I’m looking for a business man. My husband. Rafe? Rafe Cameron? He told me to - to come here but I’ve been looking for 30 minutes and can’t see him.”

At the mention of the name Rafe Cameron, the waitress’ eyes dawned a screen of something. Something intangible. Like she all of a sudden knew something. She looked you up and down once more and nodded.

“Yeah I know him. He’s like our most important customer. You won’t find him in here though.” She nodded smugly as she looked over the balcony into the crowd.

You looked with her, disappointed. “Oh. Well do-“ you increased your volume, speaking over the club anthems and tilted your head up as she crouched to hear you better, “-do you know where I could find him, please?”

The waitress smirked and rolled her eyes. Of course Rafe married the girl next door type. You seemed sickeningly sweet. “Sure sweets. He’s in Havoc.”

At your confused reaction, she elaborated. “You know, the club within the club? It’s downstairs. Through those doors. Password is ‘10th Circle’. Say you’re with Rafe, and they’ll take you to’m.” She points you to a set of steel doors lined with 2 bodyguards.

You thanked her as she sashayed away. You approached the doors and the bodyguards looked you up and down - and laughed to one another. “No way, baby. VIPs only.”

You just wanted to see your husband. “10th Circle. I’m with- I am Rafe Cameron’s wife. He invited me.” You say holding up your phone to show your screensaver of you and Rafe at your small, intimate wedding. “See?”

The guards looked at each other with suspicion. Having the password must be enough though, because they opened the doors without any qualms. You heard something just before the slam of the seal shut. “Did you know he was married?”

You went down the stairs which was less crowded, but more sinful already. On the stairwell you passed men wearing suits whispering in women’s ears. Women who were blackout drunk, or close to it. Women who were being handed hundreds of dollars wearing fur coats and nothing underneath. Some of which looked to be enjoying it and some of them scared. You immediately felt unsafe.

You were cautious as you walked through; shoulders hunched as you tried not bumping into anyone, making yourself as unnoticeable as possible. Your out of place attire made that somewhat difficult. But then you were grateful, because finally someone, the one, recognised you.

“Fuck, here she is- Baby! I’m here!” Your husband shouted from a secluded corner. He was surrounded by other men, one with a girl on their arms. You recognised a few of them as being his associates. Topper and Kelce and JJ in particular.

You could tell he wasn’t drunk thankfully. None of them were as they focused on playing their card games. “Hi.” You said, not raising your voice for anyone else to hear. The music was much less quiet than the chaos of upstairs, much to your gratitude.

He grinned, pulling you towards his seated form, in between his manspread. “There you are, bunny. What took you so long?” You took his hand to intertwine your fingers with his, having missed his touch.

“Got lost, I thought you were upstairs but a nice lady helped me.” You said, basking in your husband’s gaze. “Aw honey. You hear that fellas? Lil bunny here got lost tryna’ find me.”

His friends laughed as they sifted through their cards. One sitting beside Rafe, JJ, looked up and took out his cigarette- effectively blowing it in your face. “Poor girl. You miss your husband, doll?”

Rafe barked out a laugh but you were distracted by lightly coughing out the smoke directed into your airways. “Of course she did man, can’t go more than a few hours without rubbing up on me. It’s like she’s an addict or something.”

You frowned once more. Why was he acting like this? Sure he’s usually controlling and has a more…masculine sense of humour. You usually didn’t mind, yet now you felt like everyone knew something you didn’t. But you supposed he wasn’t wrong. You weren’t ashamed to say that you loved your husband, that you needed him.

“Huh Bunny baby? You miss me? Who’d you miss?” His friends laughed a chorus of stifled chitters and some even “oohed”. Rafe squeezed your thigh, and you knew what he wanted.

“I missed you…” you looked around at his friends who waited for you avidly. Patiently. You felt like a fish in a fish-tank. “Daddy.” The private nickname had officially made its debut. You were embarrassed, but also more embarrassed by JJ who was now staring at your tits.

Rafe grinned which made you breathe a little lighter, your joints a little less coiled. He yanked you down to sit atop his leg, your own surrounding his right knee. His eyes flitted in amusement to his posse, “See that boys? Bet none of you got a bitch at home calling you that.”

“Nah, my girlfriend just told me the other day she doesn’t want kids. Like, what’s the point of us staying together then? Only thing a woman’s good for after all.” Said Kelce, with some large chested girl on his arm licking his ear. She laughed, along with Rafe and company, at his crude joke, which you found far from funny. “Well, maybe not the only thing,” he uttered before her hand gripped his knee.

“You gonna dump her then?” Asked Topper, Rafe’s CFO, who tilted his head as he assessed your legs. Your freshly shaved, shiny, short legs.

“Don’t know. She gives good head, so that’s definitely a factor. Maybe I should keep her around and until I try to find my future wife on the side, you know?” Kelce said taking a smoke of his cigarette. “What do you think?” He jutted his chin across the space to you.

In a weird synchronicity, everyone turned their heads to you, awaiting your input. There was a metaphysical spotlight on you and you tightened your hold on Rafe’s hand. He started to kiss up and down your ear, which was not helping how distracted you were.

“Um- maybe you could give her a chance? If you really like her enough to have her as your girlfriend it might be worth it to talk…with her.” You slowed, immediately regretting speaking at all as each man started to smirk and look at one another again.

“Jesus Rafe, where’d you even find this girl?She’s so…cute.” Settled Topper. You thought he was handsome, but nobody could compare to your husband. Rafe simply shrugged and chuckled in your ear before returning to his perusal. “Some dump she needed rescued from.”

Kelce sighed. “Why’d I even ask a chick? Not like they know anything. It’s either dumb, or dumber.”

You could hear Rafe huff out a laugh. “True. There’s nothing up here,” he tapped your temples, “except my name.”

You turned to ask him why he was acting like this. So not the sweet, protective Rafe you knew, “Raf-m!” Cut off, by Rafe shoving his tongue down your throat. You were stunned before you responded, avidly with passion.

At least one thing hadn’t changed about your husband, he still kissed you with the same enthusiasm. Perhaps, with even more than normal. When he eventually pulled away, you whined and your lips traced after him - uncaring of who was watching.

“That’s one way to shut em’ up when they get uppity. And that ain’t what you call me bun. How many times am I gonna have to remind you tonight? Cmon, use your head for once. Know it’s in there somewhere.” He held an intense eye contact with you.

“Give her a break, Cameron. She might need a minute.” Kelce slapped Topper’s shoulder as they both looked to you.

“Daddy…” You whined, then hid your face in your chest out of embarrassment. Rafe said that it wasn’t something you should call him in public, yet here he was. All gorgeous in his suit with his collar popped and tie loosened, commanding you as though you were in the bedroom back home.

The only indication that he was not mad at you was the pet names he bestowed upon you, ‘Bunny’ and ‘angel’ being your favourites. “Aw honey, Daddy’s just joking. Y’know you’re my best girl. Huh?” He felt you smile into his chest. “Huh?” He bounced his knee, digging into your pussy, and you nodded. You could feel your body clench.

“Rafe’s chick might have a point though Kelc. Maybe you should keep the broad around. She’ll probably change her mind about having kids.” Voiced JJ, whose eyes continually checked out your cleavage.

Rafe piped up as he massaged your scalp from the way you hid in his chest. “Yeah, girls hardly ever know what they want until we decide for them anyways. Plus, you’d have the kids and still get to keep the good head,”

“I mean look at Bunny here, she thought she was gonna be a nurse or something fore’ I came in. Only cost me two dozen or so grand to pay off her student debt and convince her to drop out n’ marry me.”

Every time Rafe brings that up you feel a sense of guilt. That was sooo much money. Maybe not to a multi-millionaire like him. But to small town you, it was everything. “Thank you, daddy.” In response, a kiss on the cheek.

Topper sat up, “Can you blame her? She’d be a good slutty nurse. Waiting on you hand and foot. There’s a halloween costume idea right there.”

Rafe turned to them, “As if she doesn’t already do that. Little girl knows where she belongs.” You didn’t have time to be confused as the sound and pain of Rafe roughly slapping your upper thigh sounded throughout the secluded corner. Your pussy wettened, and you wished you weren’t wearing thin underwear.

JJ, ever so wise with a big mouth JJ, had some advice. “Well the way I see it Kelce, you have options.”

“Uh-huh. And they are?”

“You could always switch out her birth control. Then she’s pregnant in no time and it won’t look like your fault, so she can’t be mad. Plus, chicks’ tits get bigger when pregnant. S’a win-win.” You couldn’t believe how awful the things that were coming out of these men’s mouths were. Were they always like this outside of work? Was Rafe like this outside of your marriage?

“You let your girl on birth control Kelc? Why?” Topper asked, genuinely perplexed at the notion of a woman controlling her own body.

“She had a whole bitchfit about it. Saying shit like how it helps her period pain and let’s her decide when she can have a baby or whatever. I don’t get it.”

They continued to drink and chat. “Hold on bunny baby,” Rafe shifted you side ways in his lap now so that your legs were fully facing JJ on his left. There wasn’t much room so JJ put your feet and calves atop his thigh, across his lap. You felt too shy to say no or remove them, and this genuinely was more comfortable.

Rafe noticed, but you didn’t, with all the shifting that your dress had twisted and was alarmingly close to revealing your underwear. You put your hands around Rafe’s neck and leaned in.

“Can I have a drink please? I’m thirsty.” You whispered in his ear. You were parched. Between the heat of the room and the heat building in your core you needed something to ground you.

Rafe smiled. “Sure. Hey,” he clicked his fingers at the girl on Kelce’s arm. “Double time. Vodka.” She left the area with haste.

“But Daddy- I wanted…you said I’m not allowed to dr-“

“Didn’t look like he asked for your two cents, princess.” Said Topper with a bored expression as he thumbed the neck of his beer bottle. You frowned. The blonde was usually nice to you at business events and in Rafe’s office.

“You speak when you’re spoken to around daddy’s friends Baby. Remember? Or do you need a reminder?”

Your eyes widened at the last time you were given a ‘reminder’. “N-no. I’m sorry I’ll just…”

Though his attention diverted from you as the shot was passed to your hand. “Now I know you’re just a girl, sweetheart. And you’ve never done a shot before so listen carefully. Can you do that for us?” Asked Kelce as JJ played with your socks. The condescension was not noticed by you.

You looked to Rafe, who nodded. So you turned your head to Kelce, careful not to spill the drink.

“Kay. So this stuff is really icky. You gotta drink it fast and swallow fast. You’ve had plenty of practice, so I’ve heard.”

You ignore the last comment and nod, looking at the clear liquid with determination. This is your chance to prove that you are a big girl and can handle things like alcohol. People always made fun of you for not drinking in college, so you needed the victory, even if just for yourself.

“Here, pretty baby. I’ll do one with you, okay? Ready? Go.” Your daddy said. Though you didn’t say it, you were grateful that he was supporting you.

To say the taste was awful was an understatement. It wasn’t so much the taste as the fumes that made your throat feel like it was on fire. You coughed, a lot. So much for proving you were a big girl and not some inexperienced baby unlike the rest of the sensual women around.

“Fuck, look at her. You alright dollface?” The insulting nickname flew over your head as you scrunched your eyes, though you could be sure it was JJ’s voice. He squeezed your ankle in a somewhat comforting gesture, but you could hear the guys and the girl laugh at how pathetic you were.

“Wh-why would you let me try that!” Tears dribbled down your face. The key word being “let”, as the guys noted.

Rafe growled, and laughed. “Don’t be such a fucking baby. In fact-“ he put his whiskey up to your pouty lips and made you drink it before you could protest. Again, disgusting. You sputtered some of it out and it dribbled down your chin and throat.

“Think she needs a bib boys?” Top jested, reaching over to chuck you under your chin. Other than Rafe, he seemed like the strictest of all. They each roared a laugh and you realised you were the butt of the joke. The punchline.

You continued to sniffle and leak some tears, looking around at what this truly was. You were an animal in the circus, simply there for entertainment. “Daddy, please…” you whined, tightening your hold on Rafe in the search of comfort.

“Don’t be sad sugar. If it’s any consolation, you’re even sexier when you cry.” Said JJ, as he took off your shoes one by one. He left on your white ankle socks, which he now noticed had love-hearts all over them.

You whimpered at the statement. Your throat felt raw and the wicked taste of mixing alcohols lingered in your mouth.

You were hyper aware of how wet you were in that moment, and couldn’t decide if you were whimpering out of pain, embarrassment or lust. You used your core to bounce on Rafe’s leg, enough to feel something yet too little for anyone to notice.

Rafe kissed your chin where the whiskey spilled. “That’s top shelf liquor you just wasted.” He licked your lip, groaning at the taste.

“S-sorry. Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. I’ve never really drank before.” You could feel your cheeks blush. Rafe loved PDA, and it had taken you a while to adjust to it.

“Hmm, you gonna make it up to me?” He teased. His hand travelled up to your braless chest and groped you, right in front of his friends. What the hell was happening.

“I don’t know,” said Kelce, looking at where Rafe’s hand was pressing your nipple. “I’m a fan of big tits. Not to the point where they look ridiculous, but definitely not as small as sweetheart, here.”

The guys all sounded as though they were heavily contemplating Kelce’s “insightful” comment and they turned to your chest, whereas you? You were just plain insecure now. You knew you didn’t have the largest bust, but was it really so much a factor?

“You’d be surprised,” said Topper. “Big tits can get in the way.” He scoffed, then returned to look at yours with a lustful eye.

“True,” JJ nodded, “plus small tits are just…I don’t know. They look more youthful. Perky, y’know? Definitely my preference.”

Rafe huffed out a laugh. “Me too, clearly.” You looked at him with a grimace, then down to your chest. “I have a theory that they’re more sensitive, though.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think that?” JJ had toyed with your socks to the point where he’d taken them off completely.

Rafe eyed him, then gazed at you intensely before devouring your mouth in a kiss. You were confused, was there some mental signal he just sent to his business partner? How did that suffice as an answ-

“MMph!” You squeaked into Rafe’s mouth as pain overcame you. Rafe just pinched your nipples, with as much force as his hands could. His strong, manly hands… You were positive that your underwear had gained a wet patch on it now. You were less embarrassed about that than as to why you felt turned on in the first place.

You withdrew from Rafe’s mouth to stare at him, eyebrows scrunched in a hurt expression. Why would he do that? You looked at his lips and suddenly became distracted again. With your low tolerance, the alcohol was seeping into your mind and your impulse control was going haywire.

So, you jumped his mouth. Your tongue swirled around his as you let out a soft moan. His hand moved to slide along your inner thigh, and you panicked, moving it away in front of your too-keen audience.

Rafe loved how eager you were sometimes. You fucked like a rabbit, and your nose twitched in your sleep. Hence the nickname.

“Please not-not in front of them!” You whispered.

“Don’t worry. All friends here.” Said Kelce. “Nothing we haven’t seen before,” seconded Topper, who gave you a crude wink. Kelce high fives him and you were confused as to what they were referring to. Though you didn’t get to focus on the thought as you felt heaving tapping on your cheek.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking when spoken too, huh baby? You too fucked dumb from last night to follow a simple instruction?” Rafe said, growing annoyed. Sure, you were embarrassed. But that was nowhere near as bad as stepping out of Rafe’s meticulously drawn line.

“I just- I don’t know why you’re doing this in front of them. Don’t they all have girlfriends?” You wondered. Topper was married. Kelce had a girlfriend. JJ was, well he definitely had a girl. It was just a different one every week.

Rafe kissed your forehead, and said in a voice that was too saccharine- “I do it,” another kiss, “because” and another “I can, sweetie.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat at you squirmed, feeling a feather light touch as JJ drew his finger nails from the soles of your feet to your leg. You kicked a little, and turned in shock at the sensation.

“Come to Papa J, dolly.” He ‘come hithered’ with his fingers. “S’okay. Right Rafe?”

You looked to your husband, wondering exactly what was going on. Rafe grinned with that glint in his eye. “She’s all yours Jayj, careful though.” He said cruelly, before widening his manspread with haste. Effectively, letting you fall through his lap straight onto the floor between his legs. You yelped at the sudden motion and the sudden pain blooming around your tailbone. You wanted to say something, but you hadn’t been spoken to.

You used Rafe’s knee to stand up, barefooted on the plush rug of the club within the club. Blood rushed to your head. How drunk were you? You were now aware of how short your dress was. You weren’t sure what to do now.

JJ’s eyes traversed your figure head to toe. From the bow in your hair to your white pedicure. He looked hungry, like he was on a hunt. Were you being hunted? Is that what this was? Poached even, willingly by your own husband?

You thought of your marriage, of all the times Rafe had been sweet and the times were he’d been, dark. Salaciously dark. You knew they’d passed around ‘girls’ in the past, but just in the sense of sharing strippers. You were his wife. And JJ was his friend. They all were. Regardless of these mindless facts, you now knew who they were. Sleazebag playboys that objectify women. That use them.

And Rafe, your protector, was just going to throw you into the lion’s den with one of them?

Unless…you realised, looking at Rafe as he nodded for you to go towards his business partner, that your husband was one of them. That this whole time, your marriage had been the lion’s den.

You just didn’t know it until tonight.

Author’s Note: Let me know what you thought of this!

#rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!jj maybank #jjmaybank x reader #topper thornton #kelce obx #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #depraved #misogynistic #misogyny!kink #sadiewrites #Old Boys Club

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ilovejoo · 2 years

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｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

habits they get from dating you; enhypen

word count: 1.5k warnings: n/a gn!reader a/n: like & reblog & follow for more; new blog here lol THANK U FOR READINGG

heeseung

always looking for you in a crowd to make sure you were doing okay, even if the situation doesn't call for worry

at parties, he can't help but scan the room to look for your familiar eyes. were you doing okay? were you having fun?

when performing while you're in the audience, he looks for your approval in the crowds while also ensuring that you were safe. was his singing as good as the singing he shows you at 3am on the living room couch? were you being trampled by his fans?

this type of habit that he developed is something he really can't help: though he trusts you to take care of yourself, he just wants the best for you.

subconsciously putting food on your plate before he takes his own

this can mean sneaking an extra choco pie into his pocket from a en-o-clock episode site or grilling the meat and placing it on your plate for you during kbbq nights. he grabs the first slice of pizza for you, reaches for the best piece of pie for you, and makes sure you have food to eat before he starts taking and shoving his own food into his mouth, even though everyone knows how much he values eating.

he saves the first, last, and best bites for you. if he knows you like a certain side dish, he'll move his onto your plate.

jay

making meals for two rather than one, or eight rather than the seven of his group

he got so used to cooking for you that even when you aren't there, he finds himself making a bigger meal than he used to out of habit.

two servings of ramen- damn, he only meant to make it for himself, but he added two on accident since two is the amount he makes every time.

whenever he's cooking, naturally he adds a few scoops extra of each ingredient without even thinking; caring for you and making sure you have food to eat is something he does subconsciously.

calling you "my" when talking to other people, as in "my baby," "my y/n," "my darling"

you overheard him talking to jungwon while referring to you as "my y/n," and you felt your heart skip a beat. "my y/n baked me a cupcake the other day!" or "my darling studied all night for their exam, i hope they aren't too tired."

the way you both know that he is yours and you are his is something that incorporated itself into his daily life and daily conversations.

jake

seeing you in every little thing, from the clouds in the sky to his eyes naturally spotting your favorite snack

his members are tired of hearing "oh y/n likes this!" "this looks like y/n!" "this reminds me of when y/n..." jake cannot get you out of his head, he is so down bad for you that every little thing reminds him of you.

somehow he will connect the color of a random car to the time when you went to the movies together and the commercial that played had the same shade of gray somewhere in it. romantic?

saying "i love you" literally every waking moment

when you wake up, in your sleepy eyes and messed up hair, he can't help but express the love he holds for you. seeing you shove a cupcake into your mouth: he's never seen anything more perfect in his life. you scored a 50% on your final exam: it's completely fine!

everything from your strengths to your flaws about you is so perfect, mesmerizing, lovable to him, and so he finds himself saying the words "i love you" every hour, every day. every time he feels grateful to have you in his life, he says a quick "love you," which is much more often than you would think.

sunghoon

playing with your fingers whenever you were next to him

like in iland where often he found himself fidgeting with the hand of the person next to him, your hand is always in his once he mustered the courage to grasp it the first time. rings, fingers, nails, anything on your hands becomes his personal fidget toy: all anxieties gone, all pressures relieved, everything perfectly fine. sometimes he will crack your knuckles, pinch your skin, earning a playful slap on his shoulder from you; the different ways he plays with your hands are endless.

asking questions like "did you sleep well?" or "was the food good?"

is this him being awkward and not knowing what to say to fill up silence, or is this him being a caring boyfriend? neither of you know, but you do know that he still genuinely wants to know in order to check up on you and make sure everything is good. his "did you like the chicken" translates to "i love you and i want everything to be just perfect in your life."

sunoo

attentively studying the hair stylists to learn how to do your hair when he gets back home

whenever his stylist tries something new on him, a different idol from another group, or one of his members and he finds himself particularly liking it, he studies it to the best of his ability to best replicate it when he sees you again. the way the straightener moves, the type of products to use: he memorizes it all.

he will see a certain style and think about how good it would look on you, and how he needs to see it on you asap, so learning from a real professional would be the best way to do it.

saving saturday nights for dates and building his schedule around it every week

"wait, saturday night? i can't, i have plans." he did not have plans.. yet. but! every saturday is saved for you, no matter what. therefore, on the way home, he picked up some face masks and candles for a self care night.

he finds himself saving every single saturday night just for you, no matter what may come up. he loves spending time with you, so having this time together means a lot to him.

jungwon

taking selfies everywhere to send mini updates of literally his entire life

you're his personal diary at this point, with the number of selfies and pictures he takes and sends to you. you thought he takes a lot of pictures for his fans? while that is true, he takes double the amount for you.

he makes up for all the time you guys are apart by updating you on things like his meals, practice ending, going to sleep, his member leaving his sock on his bed, etc. does it get too personal sometimes? yes, but you love it.

watching for your safety whether you are known for your clumsiness or not, his hands always ready to grab you

whether this means walking on the outer side of the sidewalk or hovering over you when you walk down the stairs, your safety is his priority.

when you bend down to grab something, he walks behind you so you feel safe, covered, and nobody bumps into you. when your head is dangerously close to the corner of a table, his hand gravitates between your head and the edge to prevent any potential injuries.

he can't bear to see you hurt or in pain, so he'll do his best for that not to happen.

niki

always sleeping with something by his side, and he can't sleep without the feeling of another presence right next to him

his members have been replaced by you at night sleeping next to him. twiddling with your hair as your eyes began to close, snuggling into that crook in your neck: all flows right into his nightly routine. after a while, he got too used to your warmth that whenever you are absent, he can't fall asleep.

this is where weighted stuffed animals, heated blankets, and such came into play; he really could not sleep without you, or at least a subpar replica of you.

dancing, singing, and trying to look his best whenever you're around to impress you and earn words of praise

"y/n look over here!" he'd do a quick but fancy dance move that he learned in the middle of your living room.

"wait, watch this." he'll play a video of him that heeseung took of him shooting a basketball into the hoop from afar.

"did you see our new performance? wasn't i just so cool in it?" he will say anything to hear praise coming from your lips: of course, he hears it all the time from his fans, but hearing it from you has a different meaning, so he makes sure to always look his best and impress you with all that he does.

he wants to look ultra cool and awesome in front of you, but can you blame him? he's just so in love with you.

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cerise-on-top · 9 months

Note

I just read "141 with an S/O who likes muscular people"

BUT! what if they have an S/O who loves to bake or loves cooking.

What if unit 141 follows a diet to keep those muscles and shape? Would they have the heart to tell their lover "no" when they offer some of the food/sweets they just make?

I think all of them would love your food a little too much to simply go on a diet, but some of them are more willing to say no than others! Besides, all of them would sometimes go to the gym together on their days off, just to catch up with each other and burn some unused energy! They're still some rowdy boys, even if Price doesn't always have the time to go to the gym with them!

TF141 with an S/O who Likes to Cook for Them

Price: While he may eat quite a lot, he doesn’t really eat very many desserts, so it’s not often he’d say yes to one of your delicious marble cakes. However, he can appreciate you cooking for him as much as you do. It’s lovely. He comes home from deployment, tired and hungry beyond compare, and there you usually are, making him the most delicious food imaginable, from simple spaghetti to roast pork. Whatever it is you make, he’ll eat it with a smile on his face. Though, from the get go, he’ll tell you that he doesn’t eat too many sweets. He’ll indulge in the occasional cookie, maybe eat a single, thin slice of pie, but that’s it. He’ll tell you no in a nice, polite and gentle way. Besides, considering how much he eats normally, it isn’t really surprising that there’s no space left for your delectable pain au chocolats. He will try something every once in a while, but he’ll usually say no, so staying fit isn’t really a concern for him in the first place. You’d need to continuously insist for him to eat your apple strudel for him to budge, but even then it’s just a tiny piece. He doesn’t particularly have a sweet tooth.

Gaz: He absolutely has a sweet tooth. There are phases where he will consume more croissants than what is probably healthy, and then there are phases where he won’t eat anything sweet at all, won’t even look at it. It all depends on how sick and tired he’s gotten of something like your macarons. Trust me, he will still eat your food like it’s his last meal, but will turn down any and all sweets you make. Gaz does go to the gym fairly often, to keep in shape and maybe grow just a bit stronger as well, despite being rather strong already. You suspect that he sometimes stops eating your sweets because he may have gained weight, but he never confirms or denies this, he just tells you that he needs a break. But, as mentioned already, he can never get enough of your food, even if he’s just eating normal portions for someone his size. That’s why there’s always room for dessert in his stomach. But sometimes he’s content with just eating a banana or a tangerine. It doesn’t always have to be processed sugar, even if he adores your mochis as well. He can cook very well himself, but if you’re always eager to cook for him, then he will simply help you out.

Ghost: Eats a lot, eats sweets every once in a while, it’s as simple as that. He loves you, so he will even eat more sweets just for you, even if he won’t usually eat them as often. Your food is the best out there, and so your cupcakes have a special place in his heart as well. While he won’t dig in whenever you make a batch, you can see him steal one or two from the tray when he thinks you aren’t looking and, for humor reasons, blames it on Soap, regardless of whether he was even here or not. While he may not be a fast eater, he likes to savor every bite of what you made, he eats a mountain of food. When he realizes he has put on some weight, he will call up Soap and Gaz and train with them until the weight is gone. While he has a hard time saying no to you, he tries his best to not eat too much French toast when you make it. He needs to stay fit as a lieutenant, and thus he will softly refuse, or simply eat way smaller portions of sweets than he normally would. But you’d need to pry your home-made ravioli from his cold, dead hands since he loves those so much.

Soap: As mentioned in another ask, this man can eat literal trash and he won’t put on weight, he was blessed genetically in that regard. Likes sweets a lot, so he has no shame about stealing some of your braided easter bread while it’s still cooling down. He can usually be found chewing something, when it’s not your food, it’s some gum he bought. He likes the feeling of having something in his mouth he can bite down on. While he doesn’t eat as much food as, say, Price, he actually prefers to steal the food from your plate, he eats about as many sweets as Gaz does during the prime of his sweet phases. Not per day, he doesn’t love apple cake and the likes that much, but it’s quite a lot. Fortunately, he does train all of it off by going to the gym whenever he can. He does take Gaz along with him during those times, Ghost sometimes as well. While he does goof around with Gaz when he can, he does take his training fairly seriously more often than not. You can make him just about any food and he’ll enjoy it, but he does prefer savory foods, such as roasted chicken. Don’t make his food too spicy, though. He’s very white and can’t eat it otherwise.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #these are a bit shorter today since I was really stressed out and for that I am incredibly sorry #had a long and rough day today but I tried my best!#they're not much shorter than what I usually write but still! again I am so sorry!#I'll try to do better tomorrow or next time depending on when I have the time to write again!#still! thank you for the request! I hope it's still enjoyable!

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diejager · 1 year

Note

We need more Dark!Captain Price please!!

Behave, Love

Pairing: Dark! Captain John Price x fem!reader

Cw: implied smut, DARK, IMPLIED NON-CON, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, kinda Stockholm syndrome, captive reader, mean Price, punishment, basement wife?, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

“We have guests tonight, love,” he told you this morning before leaving.

That was a warning, the only one you needed to understand what you were told - ordered - to do. You spent the morning cleaning up, wiping off the nonexistent dust from the shelves, washing off the clean tables and surfaces around the house that you’d cleaned yesterday after he called to tell you that he was coming home. The following hours were spent vacuuming the wooden floor and mopping up any nano-spill of some kind. Only after the long hours you took to clean every speck of dust in your shared home, did you start cooking.

Price was a simple man in the things he liked, he might’ve been strategic in his plays and his decisions, down to the smallest aspects of each mission, or preferring his gun or knives maintained in a specific way that was his only, but anything at home, he liked simple. Perhaps it was a blessing for you, never spending time learning how to cook or bake, your training took up all your time and any free time you had was spent resting or on extra training. He liked well-rounded meals, having meat, vegetables and a bit of spice on his plate with rice or fries on the side.

You dread the moments he leaves as much as the giggle of the knob, leaving meant that he’d be watching you remotely, from the small screen of his phone with alarms and countermeasures against your escape - to which you’ve tried and failed many times, the severity of his punishment racking up from an hour in the dark basement to being tied up and tortured to overstimulation of a fake cock moulded to replicate Price’s cock - and his return would leave you at the mercy of his prying eyes and hungry mouth, letting his hands trace the scars that littered your skin. Any sign of disgust: shuddering, flinching or freezing would get you some time in the basement.

He pulled you from years of training, the result of your blood sweat and tears gone with the flick of Price’s wrist. He had you discharged and had you move in with him - how fortunate you’ve been living on base without an apartment outside of the compound, you saw no use for it if you’d rarely be home - even though you fought against him, tooth and nail. Yet that only landed you in time out - or so he called it.

“We’re going to get married, love,” he told you, a bright smile hidden under his beard, a wishful gleam in his eyes.

You weren’t only getting married, you were signing off your body and soul to your captor to become a glorified housewife. From a private to a housewife, how saddening, you couldn’t help that self-deprecating attitude rather than the confidence and strength that were beaten into you during training.

Any connection to the outside world was cut off, Price made sure that you wouldn’t have any way to contact your family without his supervision - he had you call them once a month to reassure them that you were safe and happy with your new life - or the authorities, not that they’d listen to you with The Captain John Price and his decorated background. Granted, you had a TV to entertain yourself in moments of boredom or the book-filled wall in the living room, even a few recreational activities he wanted you to practise: knitting, sewing, cooking and baking.

Naturally, you turned to cooking and baking as a way to pass the time, leaving the radio or the TV on as background noise to fill the depressing atmosphere. With time, you’d grown more comfortable in the kitchen and Price could trust you with more complicated dishes, even being excited to eat a homemade dinner when he came home. He liked meat, so you read about different meaty dishes - especially with the notion of the other coming over for the afternoon - with good portions of vegetables.

You moved around the island, setting the table with plates and cups, knives, spoons and forks on the sides with a bowl of fries in the middle. The steaks were almost done, sizzling besides the warm sauce you were boiling after cracking the can. The beans and mashed potato were already set on each plate, waiting for the juicy meat and sauce you worked on, hoping that you’d be finished on time for Price to get home. You hoped Price would be nicer to you while the men ate, nothing too rash or possessive from him during their stay.

The lock clicked as you placed the final piece, the rattle of keys and the familiar steps of Price’s heeled shoes were - unless you missed his soft “I’m home, love.” - the usual sounds you’d hear when he came home, the only indications that you were never truly able to relax.

“Welcome home, John,” you returned, greeting him with a small kiss on the corner of his lips, his bushy beard irritating your cheeks.

He leaned down, chasing you for a second, deeper kiss, his teeth catching your lower lip before he moved aside to let his coworkers enter.

“Ma’am,” Gaz jumped in, lowering his cap in a mock bow to you.

Being called ma’am made you feel old and married. While you were married, you were a year or two younger than him with him having an authority over you on base. You didn’t necessarily know him before your discharge, only catching a few glances when either of you were passing through the gym or shooting range, or when you crossed paths in the halls or mess hall. Perhaps in another universe, you would’ve been friends or teammates by chance. You swallowed down a sigh that threatened to slip from your pursed lips.

Soap followed closely behind Gaz with a boisterous greeting of his own, his smile infectious and giddy. How couldn’t you smile back at him when he seemed so happy to be here, you couldn’t bear to break his heart, his puppy-like joy. You shook his hands, they were as firm as the last time, his fingers more calloused and harder on the tips from the many deployments between their last visit. Ghost was a step behind everyone, giving you a quick but welcoming nod, his eyes softening at the dark bags under your eyes.

“Come in, I was just about finished.”

Without so much of a complaint, they sat down, watching you pour the brown sauce over their plate. Price - as always - sat at the head of the table, watching you and his team from his vantage point. Ghost sat to his left with Soap beside him and Gaz on the opposite from him, taking the seat to your right. The seat to Price’s right was always reserved to you whenever you were present, a rule he imposed himself. He could easily hold your hand while it rested on the table, he could sneakily place his firm hand on your thigh, or he could send you a quiet message through the corner of his eye, something so discreet that not even Ghost noticed.

Dinner with 141 was always animated, with Soap and Gaz throwing jabs at each other and Ghost jumping in with a few jokes of his own - though they were the usual dark and morbid humour that he thrived on - while Price watched over it all, a proud smile adorning his face as his thumb brushed your knuckles. You could see the fatherly joy in his eyes whenever everyone was at the table, this joy that almost made you happy that you were part of this small family - almost. You couldn’t forget the pain and harrowing sadness that clouded your mind every day, Price’s influence on your life becoming the looming shadow that kept you locked away from the freeing sun.

“It was tidy, bonnie!” Soap thanked you, collecting the plates while the rest helped around.

“Thank you, Johnny.”

While you washed the dishes, burly arms reached around your waist and locked fingers, pushing his chest to meet your back. He hummed a comforting tune, peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses, playing the loving and caring husband he was to the rest of the world. Laying his head on your shoulder, he was content with watching you work, ears listening to the chatter in the room and your beating heart, a calm and soft beat that soothed his nerves.

“A right delight,” Price breathed out, hips swaying side to side in a drawl dance, rocking you along with him.

He pressed his lips to your ear, mumbling praises for your behaviour and playing the husband he wanted to be - was. He was gentler with you, his strong arms holding you lovingly and expressing his devoted obsession with you with kisses and whispers. It was a side you saw often, Price being the ever-loving man he vowed to give you on the day of your marriage, the other one was the possessive and obsessive man who wanted your everything, your mind, body and soul. That side of him was given to you when you misbehaved, when you did something to displease him or when he deemed you worthy of punishment.

The other rarely saw their captain acting so soft and loving, even toward them, his little, ragtag of a team. Although it was something to be proud of, unendingly happy because at least one of them finally settled down, who were they if they couldn’t jab at Price, just a bit.

“Growing old, Cap’? You look like a romantic sap,” Gaz snickered, watching Price narrow his eyes in mocked anger through squinted eyes.

“Aye, I dinnae yer were a bodach,” Soap elbowed Gaz, failing to hold back his cackle, head tilted back and arms around his abdomen.

“English, Johnny.”

Price huffed, shoulders shaking with his own laughter.

“Oh, sod off,” he spat, lips stretched in a snarky smile. “Am I an old sap, love?”

He clung to you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt

“ ‘Course not, John. Maybe romantic, but not old.”

Calling him old wouldn’t do him or you any good, especially since you were married to him, a man over a decade older than you; and calling him romantic would be a lie thrown to the face, at least to you. Price would call himself a romantic man and preen about his rugged, yet gentlemanly character, his hands calloused and loving, his mouth praising and biting, his eyes ravaging and devoted, his acts protective and possessive. How Price would proclaim himself as the perfect husband - he said he was the day he dropped you the discharge letter - and how lucky you were to wound yourself with him rather than any boy your age.

Price chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back as he tightened his hold around you. He liked your reply, that wide smile pressed to your throat with nipping kisses made you aware of his joy. You rocked back against him, dancing along the lazy sway of his hips, you were catering to his whims to stay safe and alive. His training wasn't for nothing, carved into the seams of your mind with every thrust of his cock or the silicone mimic of his cock. You learned quickly that if Jonathan Price was happy, you’d be safe and unharmed, so you aimed to please him and keep him happy.

If it meant playing the reciprocating and happily married wife to their captain, you’d do that. There wasn’t any loss of dignity and pride in wanting to feel safe, wanting to ignore how his hands gripped you too firmly or how your skin was littered with painful bruises after a rough night. To the Task Force, you were a willingly discharged soldier who became a housewife for their hardworking captain and your loving husband. The gold band carved with curved and intricate words added to the illusion of your perfect life.

It made you want to scream and pull your hair out at how trusting they were of Price. All and any man had his darkness, that ugly need buried under the mass of duty and morality that made them who they were, but if let loose, they could be like Price, another monster wearing the skin of a man.

You couldn’t help squinting your eyes in a silent plea to the men, watching them drink and laugh merrily without a fault. Being a witness to their bountiful smile and full-bellied laughter when you were glued to your captor by the hip, his arm looped around your waist, pulling you to him. Laying your head on his shoulder as the bottle of whiskey grew lighter and lighter over time, the golden liquid rolling down their throat with a comforting burn after a long week at work. The little glances Price sent your way were reminders for you to behave until the end, his fingers curling over a healing bruise from when he held you too tightly, pussydrunk with his head between your thighs.

You smiled and nodded, going along with whatever they were chatting about, from meaningless affairs to slightly classified subjects. Nothing was off the table with you, they trusted Price enough to trust you with sensitive subjects and they all liked you, someone who could relate to their cause and understand their pains. Perhaps that played a part in his obsession with you.

Even when they stood on your doorstep with slurred speech and hooded eyes, they were always aware of their situation and minds sharp, but they were blind to your plight. Gaz and Soap shook hands with Price, the darker Brit bowing to lift his cap in a familiar salute: “‘Night, ma’am.”

“Thanks fer the meal, bonnie.”

“It’s always a pleasure having you over, Johnny.”

Ghost waved at you from the driving seat, he drank less comparatively to the other men, being designated as the driver between them. You send him a tired grin with a wave of your own, still within Price’s grasp. You looked on beside him as Ghost drove off, returning to base with two drunken sergeants in his custody. With them gone and the door shut and locked - bolted down with keys and codes only he had access to - he pulled you to his chest, rumbling out praises with his deep, soothing voice.

“You were so good today, love,” he pressed his lips against yours, hand cupping your nape with a slow lave of his tongue to deepen the kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

He dragged you away, feet hanging on your toes to follow his movement while letting him press for more kisses, growing passionate and stealing your breath. You clung to him, fingers clawing at his form-fitting shirt as you walked backwards, stepping into your shared room. He blindly kicked the door shut, throwing you to the bed with a rough push. He stared at you through lidded eyes, bouncing on the bed as you scrambled to get your footing before he straddled your hips between his thick thighs, rutting his covered hardness against your stomach.

His leaky head trapped under the tightness of his briefs and pants drenched his clothes, his chest rising with deep and laboured breaths. In the silence of your privacy, Price became handsy, wanting to grab and touch every part of you, cradling your face and wiping the drool on your lower lip with his thumb. He brought it to his mouth, sucking his thumb with lust-hazed eyes as he peered down at you. His brown hues were darker in the dim lighting, nearly black with lust and need as he grappled himself over you. He wore a crooked smile on his perfect lips.

“You deserve a reward for behaving so well, yeah?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

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sunrise-imagines · 1 year

Note

I have a big fat crush on Simon and Finn would you please do some hcs for either of them

Since I’ve already done some for Finn, I think now is a good time to write a little for Simon! Watching him become the latest Tumblr Sexyman™️ has been a dream come true.

*Ending contains spoilers for the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake*

TW: Trauma (this is Simon “‘My fiancé turned into a cosmic deity’ ‘That’s rough buddy’” Petrikov we’re dealing with), mentions of Depression, hurt/comfort

Simon Petrikov x Reader General Relationship Headcanons

• Oh boy, this one’s a doozy.

• Please be patient with him. He is a mess of a person currently, still dealing with the grief of losing Betty and feeling like he doesn’t belong in Ooo no longer being magic. He gets so wrapped up in his sadness that he can neglect the relationships he has in the present. This gets much better after the ending though.

• Self care days are a must, please just pamper this man with a nice hot bath and a massage every once in a while.

• Really good cook, he loves making food for you and it makes him feel like he can actually take care of you.

• He worries about you a lot, especially if you’re someone that likes to take risks and do dangerous stuff.

• He’s a big nerd so he gets excited if you share interests in stuff like science and literature.

• Although he doesn’t like to go on life-threatening adventures (Finn), he still loves the exploring the outdoors and the two of you regularly go for hikes around the safer parts of Ooo.

• Will be very happy if you also have a good friendship with Marceline, seeing his partner and adoptive daughter interact touches his heart.

• Such a simp for you, like if you ask him for anything he will make it his mission to fulfill your request

• His love language is definitely words of affirmation. He needs you to tell him how much you care about him and he loves saying the same to you. He could go on for hours about every little thing he loves about you.

• Marcy and Bonnie will come over for dinner a few times a week, sometimes joined by Finn and HW as well.

• He hates celebrating his own birthday (he’s turning 60) but he loves yours and will definitely bake you a cake and throw small birthday party for you. The party only consists of a few close friends but if you don’t like parties he’s perfectly fine with it being just the two of you.

• At first he wasn’t sure if you would even want to date an old man like him, but as time went on he became more confident in himself and that he deserves love just as much as anyone else, and he’s more than happy to share that love with you.

Bonus!

• Despite her current state, GolBetty is immensely happy seeing Simon finally able to move on and be happy.

• Even if they never got their happy ending, the fact that you and him are able to live happily together brings her peace, and she trusts you to take care of him.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #adventure time fanfic #adventure time #simon petrikov x reader #simon x reader #ice king x reader #sfw #sfw headcanons #fionna and cake

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rotten7rat · 2 months

Text

Batfamily + Cooking

Alfred:

He's the main cook, and has been since taking the job as the Wayne's butler. Classically trained in the culinary arts, and thankfully stillvery much enjoys it, though not as much as he used to. He likes baking more than cooking, and has gotten more of a sweet tooth as he's gotten older. Leans more on your classic British dishes, but is always happy to try a requested recipe. Prefers to cook either alone or with competent help.

Bruce:

No. Cannot even be trusted to make a grilled cheese, he always burns them.

Barbara:

Pretty good. Very much a 'throw something together at 7:30, eat at 8' kind of person, but everyone is always happy to have what she cooks. If it takes hours to make then its not worth it. A teacher suggested once that being raised by a single father, she must do most of the cooking and cleaning, and after that she refused to learn how to cook out of sheer stubbornness.

Dick:

An excellent cook. I think it comes naturally to him, he didn't spend much time cooking growing up but once he taught himself the basics he can pretty much throw anything together. Its by no means a passion of his, but he does enjoy it. However, he doesn't cook often due to being too busy and/or tired, so he gets a lot of takeout or just has something quick or microwavable very often. But if he's cooking you best be there. Anything can be a social occasion and he happily accepts help in the kitchen. Not great at baking though, he always manages to over-cook or over-mix.

Cassandra:

I'm sorry but she will throw rice, water, and and an unseasoned chicken breast in the rice cooker and call it a night. Either that or she'll have a protein shake and seven eggs.

Jason:

Quite good. Unlike Dick, it doesn't come naturally to him, but he is a fast learner and picked it up mostly from Catherine, Alfred, and YouTube. That being said, would he prefer tortellini en brodo or four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese? Tamales or something quick and greasy from Bat Burger? Its always the second option. I think he often cooks as a distraction or just something to do, and just gives it to the single mother across the hall or throws it in the freezer to eat a week later.

Stephanie:

Decent. She'll see a recipe on TikTok and will try it instantly, and she's always excited to try something new. Works best with a recipe but decides just to wing it mostly. Cooking with her mother has become somewhat of a bonding activity. Really good at baking, especially things like brownies and cookies. However, she will also throw pickles, peanut butter and ice cream in a blender and swear it tastes fantastic. Is learning to cook more because everytime she sees Cass eating a boiled chicken breast she takes psychic damage. Trying to sneak meat alternatives into Cass without her noticing. It worked once.

Tim:

Not great. Will follow the recipe to the letter and will somehow still fuck it up. He mostly sticks to simple recipes that are hard to mess up, and also just doesn't have the desire to spend heaps of time in the kitchen. He does make a mean sandwich though, every time someone tries to replicate one its just never as good.

Duke:

Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he's fine at it. Not as bad as Cassandra, he will season his food, but prefers it to be quick and not complicated. Loves heavier foods like pastas and other carbs but doesn't have the patience or desire to make them from scratch so he uses jar sauces, frozen potatoes etc. Will put taco seasoning on everything.

Damian:

Good eventually. Doesn't cook a lot now, but when he was younger he had a kind of 'well obviously its not difficult, its just cooking' mindset. He was humbled. By Dick. I think when he's older he is much better. Will still follow a recipe so it is perfect every time. It isn't a hobby, just a task that must be completed, but he'll be damned if he's eating bland food, he will spend an hour preparing vegetable tagine. Nobody can help of even be in the kitchen with him while he is cooking, because they are breathing all the kitchen air and taking up all the room. Get out.

#i called it a grilled cheese for y'all #these can be swayed by canon evidence but this is what i have gathered so far #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #dick grayson #cassandra cain #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #headcanon #batfamily headcanons #vegetarian damian wayne #vegetarian stephanie brown

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rustytrident · 2 years

Text

mc's ultimate guide to visiting the devildom!!

a comprehensive guide to being an exchange student to the devildom by yours truly, mc.

ch: diavolo, barbatos, lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

cw: none (relationships between the characters are meant to be platonic, though i could make a nsfw version of this)

a/n: this is a long ass post ‼️‼️ i tried to be as objective as possible but idk if any biases came through. i also literally thought of this while i was cleaning my bathroom so the idea may be shitty,,, get it?? cause i was,,, cleaning my bathroom,,,, , , the idea may be shitty,,,,,, ,,,, okay so the punchline is that since i was cle-

lifestyle:

wear gloves. for everything

trust your sense of smell. if something smells too good or too bad, get the fuck away from it

write your name on the hem of your clothes

always check if something can be consumed by humans. trust me, you'd rather go hungry for a little longer than grow a limb from your stomach

don't look people in the eye when walking past them. stare straight ahead, shoulders square

learn who you can lie to and who you can't. trust your gut with that, though most demons have tells you'll need to learn

keep track of your health and request check ups from human doctors

generally, don't be afraid to ask for anything. you deserve nice experiences, as well as, ,,, yknow,,,,, checkups

take pictures of everything

don't touch books unless a trusted demon tells you it's okay

don't lose touch with your culture. implement it everywhere, from your room to your food to your music. teach your housemates all you know about it

remember you are surrounded by demons. don't tease them, don't tempt them (unless you have a pact or a pretty decent relationship with them)

the royal family:

the devildom is currently under monarchy. you will only interact with the prince, diavolo, and his butler, barbatos.

diavolo knows. he always has, he always will. don't lie to him

don't be too friendly with him for the first four months

absolutely be friendly with him after those four initial months

between us, he needs friends. and beings who don't treat him like he's fragile.

he likes games of any kind. use that to your advantage

barbatos seems scary, and he is. but you can trust him

do go over for tea if he invites you. he has an affinity for cooking and baking (mostly baking – teach him any cool recipes you may know!), and likes to serve whatever he makes with a warm cup of tea

do not, under any circumstances, even so much as mention anything about rats to him. for interworld peace

diavolo will always come first for him. don't test or question their bond, our brains are probably incapable of perceiving its magnitude

the king is just. there. but like, not even there. currently asleep

the queen is dead (unfortunately, this phrase is not seen as something positive in the devildom. don't ever say it)

the brothers:

probably the ones you'll be living with. then again, maybe not. part of the student council, and diavolo's closest companions (you'll be seeing a hearing a lot from them).

lucifer is... nice. once you get to know him. give him some time

he's very sad, very overworked. kinda like a wet cat with a family to feed. stroke his ego about twice a week and you'll be good

don't put up with what he says if it makes you uncomfortable, and don't be afraid to speak up. if you need backup, go to satan and/or belphegor

he loves music. if you want to get to know him better, ask him if he would like to talk to you about his favourite songs (they're most likely from cursed records, so listening to them is not an option)

mammon will most likely steal from you. again, put your name on everything, take pictures of everything.

the friendliest of all of them, along with beelzebub, and one of the most loyal ones

loud and a tsundere. don't ask how that works. also, very funny (laugh at his jokes even if you don't like them)

he doesn't know what boundaries are. set yours early and don't follow along with his schemes if you don't like them. he's got puppy eyes, don't fall for them

leviathan is an introvert, and antisocial. don't pressure him to talk to you.

if you're dead set in getting closer to him, do it through asking what game he's playing, or what anime he's watching. his interests are the only way he will open up

he will talk a lot if he likes the subject. he also knows every meme out there, so you can be free to say anything

he's very insecure, and will sometimes guilt trip you without realising. stay firm in your beliefs and be honest with him (do not anger him unless you know how to swim)

satan being the avatar of wrath shouldn't scare you. just don't mention anything good about lucifer during the first few months of you being there, and you'll be good

he likes books, and has learnt to be very open with his affections through them. if he likes you, you will know

again, he likes books. want him to like you? ask for recommendations, plots, ideas, poems. he's got you covered

he also loves cats. like, a lot. so if you're not the biggest reader it's time to be the biggest petter

asmodeus is touchy, but he never crosses any boundaries once they're clear to him. if you don't like physical touch, make it clear to him

the first being you should go to if you want to have any sort of physical relationship with someone there. it could be awkward to just... ask, but he's not held back by any prejudice, and would love to help

pay attention to him when he speaks. he may seem like too much sometimes, but he will be even more if you don't look him in the eye and nod (at least).

tell him he's beautiful, cause he is. and also cause who would call aphrodite themselves ugly like??

beelzebub is chill, for the most part. just don't disrespect his family or eat his food.

he's the number one demon to go to when you're having issues and want to vent it out. doubles as someone you could hug after and get a pat on the head from, but only if he's comfortable.

always have a snack in your pocket for him, you'll never regret it (but don't make it a regular thing)

he will eat anything. that is both a warning and a piece of advice.

belphegor can have a sharp tongue, so if you're sensitive it's better to either be vocal about not liking certain things he says or not be around him all together

very knowledgeable about the human world, probably the most out of all the brothers. go to him if you feel homesick

also a scholar. no he won't do your homework for you. yes he will pass every class even though he's asleep in all of them. just don't pick him as your study buddy.

doesn't hide his feelings well – you can tell what he's thinking about just by looking at him

enjoy your stay, little sheep~

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #diavolo obey me #obey me barbatos #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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krahk · 3 months

Text

Blood for Ruin

Master list

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five : Part Six : Part Seven : Part Eight : Part Nine

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Ten

(Or, Alastor proves he’s a walking red flag, but a well fed one)

Minors DNI, 18+

Triggers: Light bondage, restraint below (consensual).

Regardless of the actions the two of you had joined in over the course of…many…hours - it was no easier explaining to Alastor your theory on what exactly was cooking between you on the magic scale.

Since everything you had learned about deals were explicitly learned through texts, and not practise, your inability to properly express these thoughts had gotten on the man's nerve a few times already.

”So, my dear, it is of your theory that we somehow are fluidly passing magic between us - without my knowledge or consent, mind you - and now you seem to be having shadows commit themselves to your needs without your control or permission that you currently are unable to show to me?”

Even though the radio voice was undeniably attractive, when he had a lack of inflection paired with an absolute disbelief you were infuriated. Though he was right, it was frustrating that the shadows who helped you in the library were MIA because if you could, you would have shown him.

Scrunching your face in thought, you chewed at your bottom lip while you stared at the coffee he had appeared with when you awoke. Even though it was later in the evening when you rose from your after-sex rest, the lack of food or drink had you ravenous. Alastor, apparently ever the gentleman, had made sure your needs were met, pushing a tray of light snacks and coffee to you before you blurted out the thoughts that had been pushed aside since you had come across Alastor the night before.

The silence that took over was starting to make you blush from embarrassment. Still looking down, you quietly offered your defence and a last ditch attempt.

”Alastor, I promise you - I’m telling the truth. Whatever you did with Charlie upstairs had consequences and I am absolutely not equipped to be dealing with it. And if you aren’t even aware of it, that has to be even more serious because I promise you - this is not something I want. I don’t want anything to do with magic, I don’t trust it, it’s never on your side - what if I do something and it affects you? You’ve got all these rules to keep the both of us - well, you really and truly, safe. Now I’m telling you about a possible extended weakness and I just need you to take me seriously. I’m not lying about this. I promise. Trust me, I think the both of us know that we could be spending this time together in a more interesting way instead of me trying to convince you of some half-baked ridiculous story.”

Halfway during your rant you had lifted your head up to make eye contact with the demon, who was seemingly staring directly into you. Hyper-focused and thinly smiling he allowed you to get everything you needed to say, again, before releasing a very deep sigh from his chest and placing two fingers between his brows as he frowned and gathered his thoughts.

Another brief moment of silence hiccuped past you two before he finally responded.

“I promise you my dear, you have nothing to worry about. I am most certainly not worried. If what you say is true, these powers you have obtained will make themselves known. Hopefully soon, and hopefully without issue. I would like to hope that if they were to appear they would do so rather quickly in order for us to consider you less of a liability.” He took his monocle off to lamely polish it with a handkerchief from his pocket, appearing to be unaffected by your own nerves and worry.

“Speaking of which, we must discuss your presence during the extermination.” He stated, meeting your eyes once more. “Clearly with your inability to fight, I would believe it would be best for you to stay within the centre of the hotel - away from the frontlines.”

You frowned in confusion. “Won’t everyone be a little suspicious that I’m not fighting alongside them? This is a team effort, Alastor. I’m a part of this team too.” You defended. “Besides, I’ve done a good job staying out of trouble, right? I have done what you said, and Angel has been showing me some defensive moves as well - I‘m pretty good!” You made a couple of fists and did small punches in his direction across the table. He raised a brow and allowed a small smirk to pass over his mouth before putting his serious mask back on.

“I will think of something that requires you to stay away from the fight. I am expected to take on Adam myself, as I have promised as such, and whatever damage I may do on my own without the fear of keeping you safe as well will be far greater than having you fighting Angels. We have secured Rosie and her cannibals, Miss Vagatha will be training other residents and the cannibals in offensive training, Angel and his obnoxious friend are securing more rifles and explosives - really and truly I believe you will find yourself simply in the way of all of this.”

Having someone like Alastor act concerned for you felt wrong, but what made you feel worse was that it did sound like he had zero faith in you being able to keep yourself safe. What if Adam damaged him? Small feelings of insecurity that you had thought you left behind in the overworld began to creep up into your mind. Did anyone have faith that you were able to keep yourself safe? And with Alastor seeming like he didn’t quite believe your thoughts of this entire magic situation, that was an entirely different level of panic.

What if the magic itself caused Alastor damage? Or yourself? That would defeat the whole purpose of staying out of the firing range. What if this magic made itself known at the wrong time? Too early? Too late? Alastor clearly noted the level of concern you were focusing on, because he had reached a hand out to tap the space on the table you were currently hyper focused on, scaring you out of your thoughts.

“Once again, you are entirely too caught up in your thoughts.” He said firmly. “In fact, everyone is forgetting why it is that I am here, darling. I am engaged to protecting this establishment and the occupants inside. This was before you stumbled down here, and your presence only makes my duty more important. So I will not say it again - if you stay out of the frontlines, you will have nothing to worry about.”

You really hoped that the poker face you had been working on with Husk was believable, and as Alastor only spent a fraction of a second analyzing your response, he directed his attention elsewhere as he attempted to lead the discussion in a new direction, allowing your whirlwind of thoughts to take charge in your mind once more. You only hoped that you hid it better this time.

————-

When the eve of the big day finally arrived, you applauded your ability to not throw up upon waking. Alastor and you had essentially been kept apart for the last week due to the preparation and training everyone had been involved in. With no one truly knowing any level of your connection, the only beings who suffered were the two of you. Though you had noticed an increase in shadowy figures following in your peripheral area in the last few days, glowing when they caught sight of your small smile in their presence.

Somehow Alastor had manipulated the arrangement of individuals and you found yourself in charge of the spare weaponry In the foyer. You would be protected by the walls of the hotel, which Charlie had said held their own particular magic of keeping those inside safe (thanks to Lucifer).

That way you could still be deemed useful, and an active participant in the fight without putting either you or Alastor at risk. Angel had piped up yesterday that it was curious why Alastor was adamant on getting you off the frontline, and thankfully no one else read too much into it. But he did corner you on the way to bed and attempted to straight up bully You for information.

Thankfully, some well positioned shadow imps intervened, wreaking havoc in the hallway by tearing off the wallpaper and throwing whatever objects They found at the two of you, resulting In you each taking shelter in your rooms. Though you haven't seen him, your heart swelled at the thought of Alastor focused on keeping you safe. You tried not to think About it too deeply that it might be solely in his own interest, but if the late night reciprocal orgasms the two of you had been sharing were brought into the equation there may actually be a chance it wasn’t just for self-preservation.

Still, it would have been nice to see him before tomorrow.

_________

Suddenly, you were startled awake at the sound of a loud banging. Attempting to blink the sleep away and gain composure out of the confusion you were assaulted with, you realised you weren’t in your room.

Well, sort of.

A cold sweat overtook you as you locked in the finer details of this room. An old radio on a desk by the window, defective television with a strange static hum present in your ears - the banging at the door.

Were you…reliving your death? Everything seemed choppier, almost distorted in your mind's eye. It seemed like everything was pulsing with your own heartbeat, like a twisted dream. You had had a couple of strange dreams since you died, but surprisingly nothing on the night of your death. It was so quick and matter of fact, there truly wasn’t any reflection you could do. You were shot by intruders, and quickly died of blood loss. Boom. Pretty cut and dry.

But right now, the banging seemed to go on longer than you remembered. You jumped out of bed, noticing that with every step you took towards the door, a bright blue light was illuminated from behind it, getting stronger the closer you got. Suddenly the banging ceased. You tried the handle - locked. The dead bolt was locked, the chain lock was fed through.

You tried to call out a hello, but you found your voice distorted, almost bubbly like you were talking underwater. You clutched at your throat, and suddenly the blue light pulsed, lighting the entire room, lining the door. You raised a hand to shield your eyes, and the television exploded, followed by the popping sounds of lightbulbs bursting, the ceiling light raining shards over you.

From the blue light, you suddenly noticed all of the shadowy figures you had grown accustomed to, but they didn’t sport a sly grin like usual - they truly looked more demonic than ever. They fought the blue light with a green in return. The eyes were shaped like radio dials, the smiles stretched past where normal ears would be, and it almost appeared like each shadow was sewn together with large stitches. There were a handful, and each growing in size. You felt a pull from behind, before eventually putting themselves between you and the door.

Squinting from the fighting lights, the static from earlier started to build in the room, and the door started to vibrate in tandem with the growing hum. You covered your ears and yet could still hear a pitchy, cackling laugh out of range. The door slammed open, pinning itself to the wall and through squinting eyes you notified a tall, slim figure - Alastor?

No, the head wasn’t right. There was no head. Just a giant, empty space devoid of light. It was large, and it was truly an unfortunate size if it were a head. Footsteps broke the static sound, and the shadows attempted to wrap themselves around this stranger, only to be pushed aside from the figure. The blue light was taking over the green, and you were rattled. Wishing the dream would change, but knowing it wouldn’t, you started to head towards where the bathroom should be, but alas - this dream was ill-prepared for defence.

The figure, though it started as skinny, started to bubble and morph, keening over itself and seemingly gaining new shape, with two massive horns on a now giant, rounded head. Adam? It seemed similar from what you recognized according to Charlie’s vivid description and colourful doodle she provided, but it was still shadowy and dark. Suddenly a giant ball of blue light was building in front of it, and the sound of electricity burning your eardrums. Hands up, you tried again to speak against whatever might happen, and again your voice failed you.

You could feel the tears building in your eyes, burning your cheeks as they fell. This death seemed imminent, you wished you would wake up but the shadowy figures had disappeared once the strangers' shape changed. Your skin was slick with sweat, scared of the nightmare this was becoming. You could feel your heart race increase, almost choking on the pressure that was building - then the figure spoke, almost melodically -

“Radio’s fucking dead, bitch”

A light smashed against you, slamming you into the wall as a wail escaped you. It was like you were hit with fire, your chest was split open, with your blood - somehow gold - spilling out in droves. The pain was immense, and you coughed up blood onto the ground as you folded over yourself. Your hands were keeping you up from lying on the floor, and the footsteps of the figure came closer.

A hand wrapped itself in your hair and yanked you up, making you meet the gaze of the creature before you. Alastor had a sinister smile, indeed, but this figure was on another level of demonic. It was laughing at you, and you could tell you were fading away. What was happening? Was this a dream or were you truly dying a second time?

The figure's other hand came into your view, holding the head of a spear within it, the shine of the metal informing you of its angelic status and you gasped. This must be real life, real dead life, and you were going to die. The hand came rushing towards you as you finally screamed, the world around you shattering like broken glass and suddenly -

Suddenly you were being shaken violently. You could hear chattering noise immediately, as the hum from before had disappeared. Someone was saying your name, but it sounded like they were a great distance away. Pentious and Vaggie were very clear, questioning loudly what was going on.

Your eyes finally cleared from the burn of a bright light after a dark room and you focused on Alastor. His hand was on your shoulder - had he been the one shaking you? And though he still sported a smile, he had a noticeable frown on his face. You shot up, clutching at your chest, looking at your hands for any sign of blood. Alastor rose from his seated position to meet your eyes again as he said your name.

You noticed there was a level of concern present. And you knew that your heart was racing - so his was too. He was keeping it together a whole lot better than you were, but you doubted he just lived through whatever nightmare your brain cooked up.

It appeared that you had an audience. Angel sounded concerned, towering over the crowd around your bed - Charlie was on the other side, patting your face and neck with a cold cloth to take away the build up of sweat. In vain, you might add, as you could feel your hair stuck to your face from it. This was all from your peripheral however, as you found yourself unable to break eye contact with Alastor. Angel said something, Charlie replied, they were dealing with you around you, but not really acknowledging you.

Alastor made a loud noise of disapproval, in tandem with a radio screech, which interrupted everyone else’s frantic behaviour and look at him. He coughed into one hand lightly, before spinning his microphone and resting both hands on the top of it while slamming the end to the ground to make a large thud against the floorboards.

“Well, as our delightful little doe has woken up, we should all make haste and give the poor thing a chance to gather her bearings before overwhelming the little thing, hmm?” He stated, actively dismissing the group and their actions, flicking his hand towards your bedroom door to have it swing open.

Everyone glanced between you, Alastor and the door, all with varying levels of confusion. Alastor then made another sound of displeasure and suddenly everyone was being swept out of your bedroom by large shadows. You could hear everyone land on one another in the hallway, sounds of exclamation heard through your closing door.

Another wave of a hand and the door glowed green, and Alastor had made his way back to your side. He looked you over, lifting your chin to inspect your face for some semblance of understanding. The silence was killing you, and you broke it with an apology.

”You’re sorry? My dear, you must have had quite the dream. Nothing to be sorry about. The glass, however - well I’m sure if it were sentient it would demand one, truly.” You followed Alastors sweeping arm and glanced around the room. Every surface that was mirrored, or glass, had cracked. Your larger body mirror had cracked so badly there were large pieces fallen on the floor.

“Did I- did I do that?” You said, barely above a whisper. Alastor hummed a sound of certainty. “Quite the spectacle! Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if every room on this floor suffers a similar fate! You managed to break through my own wards and crack items within my room.” You groaned into your hands, trying to move some of your sweat-stuck hair off of your face. Your mind spun with theories and the residual sensation of fear from your nightmare.

”But how?” You inquired, mostly to yourself however Alastor replied anyway.

“Who knows! But, perhaps we should revisit what you mentioned to me before - about how you may just possess a level of power that we haven’t tapped into.” You snorted in frustration, and gave him a condescending look.

”Oh, now you take me seriously Alastor? When we have hours before the extermination! Oh my god - Adam!” You exclaimed, “I dreamt of Adam! He had a spear, and he said that Radio was dead - does he know about us? Why did he say that? Alastor what will w-mmfft!” A shadowy tendril had wrapped itself around your head, stopping your ramble in its tracks.

”My dear, there is simply no time for theatrics. I am curious about your dream and yes - I am taking you seriously. When you had your outburst, the magic that was expelled from you had my signature to it. Magic is a very personal thing - many have found compatible magic with other particular styles and signatures. You, however, have mine.” He nearly growled the last word out. Regardless of your status to him, he was a possessive being, what is his is his and he would kill to keep it as such. “Please, you may continue but start at the beginning, and try to keep the excitement to a minimum. This has been a long day.”

You blew air out of your nose and stared up at the ceiling before speaking, starting from the first moment you supposed you were dreaming. He listened intently, but there was a clear shift in his posture when you started to describe the blue light and morphing adversary. When you finished, you could tell that he was very displeased with what you had said.

“Interesting, dear.” He started, not looking directly at you - more like he was looking through you. Hopefully you aren’t a seer! What a shame it would be to be killed by a being such as Adam.” You frowned at his dismissive attitude, instead switching the topic.

”What time is it?” You asked, curious to how much time you had before going downstairs for the confrontation. You were exhausted and unsure if you would be getting any more sleep, which was detrimental to your chances of staying on the ball and avoiding any trouble.

”Hm.” Alastor replied, glancing at the clock (now with a broken glass face) before replying. Nearly 2am. You require sleep.” He stated with a matter of fact. You rolled your eyes in return to his statement and started to move your legs off the side of the bed, lifting the covers as you did so. Alastor frowned and jumped over to your side, stopping you from raising up by the shoulder. You glanced up with a look of disbelief, what, you were incapable of getting up without help now? It was just a bad dream. But before you could begin your protest Alastor intervened.

“It was not a suggestion, my dear. As politely as one may say it, you look worse than what the cat brought in. And Husk is an alcoholic - use your imagination.” He said with a bit of a sneery tone. He laughed at his own joke before allowing you to respond.

“Well Alastor, it’s far too late for me to stumble into sleep at this point. I’ve been up and conversing for the better part of a half hour now, it’s very bright and I’m sure without your sound barrier thing you’ve got going on around my room, it’s quite loud outside.” You tried to push against his hand that was still firmly on your shoulder but he would not budge, even pushing in return and attempting to force you down to the bed, but you were not having it at this moment.

“Seriously Alastor, I mean it. I don’t even think I’m tired anymore. I’m too stressed out to think about anything else other than what we can expect in a few hours and I would rather spend the time mentally preparing myself to keep my shit together.” You were grabbing at the hand now, with both of yours and you tried to keep the little growls to a minimum as you struggled. Much to your chagrin Alator seemed to think this was comical as his smirk grew with every defiant move you made.

“Unable to think of anything else, you say?” He mused, tapping his chin with his free hand. “I guarantee I can change your train of thought.” Your traitorous body yawned when you stopped struggling, and you cursed your luck as he chuckled. His hand drifted to your collar bone and began to rub the tense area slowly. He snaked his other hand behind your head and began to rub his fingers against the base of your skull, rubbing pressure into your upper neck. Instantly you felt yourself loosen up.

This was rather nice, actually. And unexpected. You wondered if Alastor being a good masseuse would be harder for the others to believe than the fact he was sexually ravenous at times. Sex could be seen as quite predatory, but this was comforting, soothing. He was sending you into a relaxed state, one that had you closing your eyes with bliss and humming a soft sound in response to his ministrations. You felt him push at your collar bone, and grip your neck as he started to lower you back to the bed.

Alastor and your knees knocked together as he settled you down, both hands drifting down your shoulders, to your biceps and forearms, before raising back up to put pressure on your ribs under your breasts and meeting together at your stomach. Your pajama shirt had ridden up a bit, the air kissing your lower stomach and raising goosebumps in return. His thumbs were placed just above your belly button, his fingers almost pulsing in pressure against your lower ribs. You hummed a sound of approval, this felt delightful.

Suddenly, a thick pressure wound itself up your legs, and your eyes shot open in return. Your head craned up to try and look below, but all you saw was Alastors head, his antlers growing slightly as shadowy tendrils appeared behind him, almost whipping him from behind with activity. He was breathing heavily, but even as you managed to get up on your elbows in an attempt to get a better visual, the tendrils crept around him to wrap up your upper arms and press you down to the bed by the shoulders.

“Alasto-oh!” You exclaimed before a tendril had managed to coil itself around your head, covering your mouth and acting as a gag. Alastor laughed darkly, deliberately, and finally raised his head in a manner that allowed the two of you to meet eyes. His sclera was black, and his irises were a pinpoint - a bright vibrant light amidst the shadows. His smile was encompassing his entire face, and thin green lines that crossed over his lips in a haphazard method appeared to flash into visibility before finally fading away with the rest of the light in the room.

“I’ll need your silence and cooperation for this, my dear.” He said with a sinister edge, layered with static. Your fear spiked and his eyes closed for a moment in near bliss, clearly feeding off the energy. “Let. Me. Help. You.”

Your sharp intake of breath and pressure against his appendages seemed to increase his frantic behaviour. You could feel his hands grow in size slightly, as if with every heartbeat. Suddenly his tongue snaked over your stomach, dipping into your belly button briefly, causing you to jerk involuntarily from the action, the air escaping your lungs with a slight exclamation at the sensation, indiscernible due to the gag. His tongue and hands continued down your torso, working in tandem with the new set of tendrils working your bottoms down your leg before simply tearing them off of you, judging by the sound of the fabric ripping.

Before you could even make a sound of displeasure to the destruction of your clothing, his tongue was at your inner thigh. Instantly reacting, feeling your cunt swell with how quickly you were turned on, Alastor released a rumble of pleasure himself, vibrating across your body. His teeth grazed against your flesh, the pressure skirting between pain and pleasure before he finally bit hard enough that he broke the skin. Your eyes stung, and you tried to exclaim against the shadowy gag, but it only tightened. You instinctively tried to jerk away from the feeling, but Alastors hands and tendrils worked together to hold you in place as he suckled up the blood pooling to the surface with fervour.

It wasn’t a deep bite, but it still throbbed with fresh pain. Alastor, content with his work, moved to the other thigh and bit that too, but not through the skin. It seemed he would be pleased with leaving small teeth shaped bruises on you as claim. His hands had travelled to your knees, and began to hold them down with enough force to prevent you from moving your legs. You made a questioning sound, getting his attention and meeting your eyes. Still blown out, his eyes flared with a certain hunger you were not familiar with from the man. The look on your face must’ve made him question his actions because he finally spoke again.

”May I?” He asked, lowering his nose to rest right above your pussy. The eye contact was almost too much, and the tendrils wrapping around your mouth loosened, but did not dissipate entirely - merely moving to play with your hair and stroke your cheeks. You sighed with pleasure at the gentle ministrations, and Alastor moved his nose to your clit, causing you to groan, and for the remaining shadowy appendages to tense up, giving you a slight feeling of helplessness.

You were overstimulated, but it felt fantastic. With Alastors shadows, you were reaching a new level of pleasure unfamiliar to you. You had questioned your position on bondage ever since Alastor had first confronted you one-on-one in the bathroom when you first arrived. The lack of control and idea that every aspect of release would be in the hands of another was tempting.

Angel had answered some basic questions you had when he was sharing some of his ‘better’ videos (“y’no, it’s the storyline that really gets the audience on this picture doll face.”) He had teased you for your lack of knowledge on the matter, but still had a wealth of knowledge available to you any time you had inquired about a particularly spicy topic.

No matter whatever it was Angel had said (since your brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment) it really had nothing on first hand experience. Alastor pressed a little harder at your clit, rubbing up and down slightly. That resulted in a soft and breathy sound of affirmation, followed by a clear statement of permission with a long yes.

Once Alastor's tongue hit your core, the shadows wrapped around your mouth once more, covering the loud sound of pleasure that escaped with his contact. Your brain was on fire while his tongue, likely swollen to provide more pressure and pleasure, dominated your inner walls. His cryptic, demented form was coming to the surface, utilising his larger features to provide you with an intense experience. He nosed at your clit, clearly smothering his face with your evidence of arousal. You could hear the sounds that were filling the void of silence, and the combination of everything resulted in a swift release of your orgasm. Alastor eagerly lapped up your gift, the suckling motions leading you right into another orgasm.

Two in such a short period of time rocked your body, and you tensed up during each one, pushing the restraints set upon you. Your knees fought to close together, but Alastor maintained his control over your body. You moaned against your gag, the vibrations rolling down your body in waves resulting in Alastor matching your sounds of pleasure. He was relentless and did not stop the assault of his tongue, now focused on your clit, frantically flicking it while you felt something new enter you.

You made a sound of shock once you understood what was happening down below. While Alastor focused his attention on your clit, a tendril had found its way inside you, swelling up and thrashing about, hitting every spot of internal pleasure that could be found.

Finally it found a soft, spongy spot and pushed against it, making your eyes roll back and your breaths to become shorter and sharper. Usually untouched due to the length of your fingers, your g-spot was no match for Alastors impressive extensions. After your reaction, all actions increased in both speed and pressure. Your eyes were burning with a buildup of tears, and you were shaking your head back and forth due to the overstimulation.

Once Alastor caught a look of your tears, however, he responded by lifting up your knees and placing them on his shoulders to get a stronger leverage and continue his actions. You were nearly screaming into your gag now, your orgasm having been built up to a new tension but unable to release due to either your body’s exhausted state or the orgasms only minutes earlier.

Or hours earlier, who knew. Time was difficult to measure when a massive deer demon was eating you out. His tendrils had wrapped around your midriff to help lift you off the bed so Alastor could hold you at the right angle.

You were shaking your head back and forth, desperate for release from yours build up. Finally when his teeth grazed your clit with an almost too firm push, you broke. Screamed despite your mouth being covered, shaking through your intense orgasm through the firm holds that kept you in place, you came, almost violently. Your eyes closed as you tried to get your breath in order, all strange shadows dissipating into the nether as Alastor released your legs and closed your knees together. Though your eyes were closed due to exhaustion, you could hear him straightening out before heading into your bathroom and coming back with a warm towel.

He took his time and was almost gentle with the clean up. Your breath was broken, ragged from the event that just occurred. He lifted you up into his arms, which finally made you open your eyes and look up at him. He was slightly dishevelled, much to your surprise, sweat beading around his hairline and the collar of his shirt slightly askew. For a normal individual, this would be standard appearance. For someone as facisiduous as Alastor, this would be an absolute tragedy once he got a good look at himself. His shadows lifted up your blanket as he lowered you down into the bed. Your eyes were heavy, you were tired.

Oh. Alastor had basically fucked you into exhaustion. How gentlemanly of him. You giggled at your joke as he brought the blankets up your body, raising his eyebrow at you with a tight smile.

You hummed with contentment. ”You certainly helped-“ you broke into a yawn, “-me”. Another yawn caused you to really relax into your pillow, “Stand-up job, truly. Amazing. 5 stars.” You mumbled as you drifted into slumber. Though you couldn’t see it, Alastor beamed at your praise, correcting his collar as he walked towards your bedroom door. Pleased you were finally asleep, he turned off the lights and removed the magical sound barrier he had first placed on your door when he kicked the group out of your room.

Making his way across the hall, he snapped his head so sharply at a small squeak in the floor to determine the noise. Angel, clad in a short housecoat, facemask, and toothbrush, was in his own threshold, staring at Alastor with wide eyes. Being in the industry, it was easy for him to pick up on ‘freshly fucked’ vibes. The two men stalled in the hall, staring each other down before Alastor went to his own room, turned to the porn star and stated, before closing his door with gusto,

”No one will believe you, night night!”

Angel whipped his head between your room and Alastors, before quickly running over and opening yours. In the dimly lit room, he could see your rising form in the bed, relieved to see you unharmed. However he quickly caught the smell of sex, and his jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a few seconds before he hightailed it back to his own room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed in disbelief, “Ho-lee-fucking-shit” He rubbed his hands in his hair and over his face before realizing he ruined his face mask. Swearing at himself as he washed off the remnants of his pre-fight spa night, he caught his own eyes in the mirror before swearing loudly in frustration.

”He’s fucking right! No one will believe me at aaaalllll!”

______

Apologies for the delay. I have children so year end has been hectic and also they don’t give a shit about my smutty hobby so they eat up all my time.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @phisen @rukkshevahna @hazbin-hoetel @white-00-7 @iheartalastor @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @bishiglomper @catticora @alastorssimp @midorichoco @garfieldthomas @spottypug @livelaughlovealastorlol @cryssyd

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x ofc #alastorxreader #alastor x you #soulmates trope #hazbin #alastorxyou #alastor and aftercare #alastor eats out

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emelinstriker · 10 months

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{Eternal Servants AU} Red Son ♡ Offering

Art drawn by me + the AU itself is mine.

It's still my birthday (November 14th) in my time right now, so might as well post it since it just fits- Peeps voted for fluff, and I wanted to make something with Red Son's cooking, and boom, idea. :D

[TL;DR] Red Son bakes a cake for you.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"Maybe this one..? No... This..? No..."

Red Son was flipping through the pages of a book for a recipe and hadn't even started anything. Just because he couldn't decide on which type of cake to bake. It needed to be perfect. It was his Master's birthday after all. He wouldn't be worthy of his title as one of your champions if he managed to fail at such an important task. And he'd rather not be a disgrace to his Master and the other servants.

He did think about asking another champion for some input, but he also didn't want to tell anyone he wanted to bake a cake for you. And he was aware that some champions, which shall not be named, weren't exactly the most quiet about keeping plans for their Master a secret. So putting his trust into the others wasn't much of a safe option... Though, maybe he could ask one of the more quiet ones for help, such as MK.

The red champion hummed in thought before letting out a rather tired groan. He wasn't tired of doing this for you, he was tired about possibly having to rely on another champion again and splitting the work credit. Much like Macaque, he enjoyed your full praises, but having to share the credit would only give him half of your attention and affection.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers with a little smile as he exclaimed, "I've got it!"

Red Son then flipped through the book for a recipe on (Favorite Cake). Upon finding the page, he read through the required ingredients and grimaced... He knew for a fact he was missing some things from the list. The palace's kitchen was big but was usually low on ingredients after. Half of the palace didn't need to consume food after all. The kitchen was mostly there for their Master if they enjoyed cooking or wanted to try out cooking without the fear of setting anything nearby on fire. And now it was mostly occupied by Red Son so he could develop his own cooking skills more.

Sighing, he decided that he would have to actually go out and collect said ingredients. He wrote down the items that were missing before he closed the book and carefully hid it away in one of the cabinets again. It was best if he kept his plan a secret.

The red champion then picked up the list he wrote with his left hand and quietly made his way out of the kitchen. He had to be quiet yet also casual about how he moved, otherwise Macaque or someone else would-

"What are you up to, Bull Boy?"

...Oh, for fuck's sake.

He grumbled in slight annoyance as he turned to face a certain pink celestial. However, he seemed to be accompanied by MK. "I'm... Just taking a stroll. That's all", he replied.

Nezha crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow. "Really? By rather suspiciously observing the area while walking, as if you were being hunted?"

Red Son's pursed his lips as he tried to hold back from saying any sassy comment that could trigger the celestial's anger. Instead, he awkwardly cleared his throat while looking away from the other two champions. "...I suppose so, yes."

The yellow champion next to Nezha tilted his head, humming as he noticed the folded up piece of paper in the bull demon's hand. "What's that?" He asked, pointing at it. Red Son nervously took the piece of paper into his right hand, hiding it behind his cape.

"That- That is none of your concern. Just... a shopping list, I guess."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I-" Suddenly, Nezha swiftly flipped up the red champion's cape before snatching the paper from his hand. Due to Nezha's speed, Red Son couldn't even comprehend what was happening until it was already over. And once he saw the celestial open the list, his heart dropped in his chest. There went his chance at getting extra affection from you.

The pink champion skimmed through the list's contents and blinked in surprise. "Wait. You weren't kidding. But then why were you so sneaky about it?" He then handed the list to the yellow champion.

And before Red Son could come up with any excuses, MK spoke up. "Isn't this a recipe for Master's favorite cake? For today. I can't forget today."

Nezha did a double take as he looked over MK's shoulder and at the list again... After re-reading the ingredients listed and confirming the young monkey's suspicions, he gave Red Son a rather offended look. "...Were you seriously trying to bake a cake behind our backs? And for Master's birthday nonetheless!"

The celestial glared daggers at the young demon. But before he could scold him or physically harm him, MK stepped in front of him, blocking him. "Let's help. It's Master's birthday. No fighting on Master's birthday."

Pausing, Nezha thought about his words and reluctantly let out a sigh to calm his anger. "You're right", he said before turning back towards the red champion, still seemingly annoyed at this form of betrayal, but he's holding it all back quite well. "Do you perhaps need help retrieving those things on the list?"

Red Son slowly shook his head. "...Uh, no thanks. I'm... I'm pretty sure I can just get it all quickly for Master's cake by myself-"

Suddenly, a shadow portal opened next to the red champion, startling him. And out popped Macaque with an excited grin on his face. He was practically vibrating as his tail happily swished around behind him from what he just heard. "I heard about a cake you're making for Master's birthday from the other side of the palace! I wanna help too!"

It wasn't noticeable, but the others could tell Nezha had a shit-eating grin beneath his mask as he spoke. "The more the merrier, right? Bull Boy over here could have us get the ingredients he needs so he can bake." At this point Red Son could most definitely not talk his way out of it. And he hated this fact.

He cursed a little under his breath, which probably only Macaque caught but brushed off, before reluctantly agreeing to it. "Fine. You can help me. I know you wouldn't stop asking me about it."

"Wonderful! Now, what's on the list? What do I get to collect for Master?" Macaque asked eagerly as he clasped his hand together.

Nezha snorted as he eyed the purple champion. "Better give him an item he won't have to get lost over. Or one where he can't accidentally piss off every demon in the vicinity like last time."

Macaque huffed as he placed his hands on his hips, giving the celestial a little glare. "Listen. I'm not that reckless when it's not a task Master told me to do."

"But it's still a task for Master's birthday", the celestial retorted. "So I hope I can trust that you won't get caught up in a random side task again and vanish for longer than needed. Not on their special day."

While they kept arguing about Macaque's inability to keep things simple without doing extra work and getting into trouble in the process, Red Son was already assigning MK to grab an item. The yellow champion gave him a happy salute despite his blank expression before walking away to get said item. He wants to make his Master proud!

Macaque and Nezha very soon noticed the young monkey's absence and they turned back towards Red Son, who was seemingly trying to sneak away.

The pink champion scoffed as he crossed his arms again, "Where do you think you're going, Bull Boy? You still haven't given us any ingredients to look for."

Red Son was most definitely rolling his void-black eyes before turning around to face the remaining two champion, who have been trailing after him to catch up. "Will you leave me alone if I let you each pick an ingredient to get?"

The dark-furred simian nodded with a happy expression. "Yes! I just wanna help make Master's birthday the best of the best birthdays for them!"

"...Fine. Here, just take the whole list. There's only two ingredients left anyway since MK already went off to find one of them", the red champion said reluctantly as he shoved the list into Macaque's chest. And of course, Macaque quickly took the list, ignoring the way Red Son shoved it into him. He finally could help with Master's special day, which was all that mattered.

The two of them then noticed Red Son walking away, looking like a deflated a balloon. Nezha felt a bit of sympathy for him since he knew how much this meant to him. But he genuinely wanted to help the younger demon. Meanwhile Macaque didn't feel such sympathy. The monkey in purple was all too busy being eager helping out, but just to get pets and kisses from you.

The red champion soon returned to the kitchen, leaning with his back against the now door as he sighed in disappointment. Now he had to share that credit with three other champions. Fun. And all he wanted was some extra attention from you just this once...

And of course, considering who all was given the task of retrieving the ingredients, it didn't take long for the three other champions to return and bring the missing items to the kitchen. It was most certainly surprising to see MK actually return with his task complete since he usually forgot things. However, Red Son figured he remembered this task since it's a task for their Master's comfort. And while he usually forgot about what he did, he never seemed to forget about given commands and objectives. He would only question what he did afterwards.

However, thanks to the other servants' work, Red Son was able to focus on his own task of baking a birthday cake. But this time he would not have another servant take his credit. So he told the others to get out and let him work on it himself. And despite Macaque's persistence in helping him further, the red champion wouldn't budge and wouldn't start anything. At least until the monkey left the kitchen through a portal while pouting. And he knew Macaque didn't know how to bake a cake, so Red Son was confident that the simian wouldn't dare try baking one unless it was absolutely perfect on his first try.

And finally, due to Red Son's skills in the kitchen, the bull demon was able to create the perfect cake. Which was also your favorite cake. Just to top it off, he added a birthday candle and lit it up with a little flame in the palm of his hand. He smiled as he proudly glanced over the cake. There was no way you wouldn't enjoy it, he was sure of it.

But then of course another servant just had to startle him by standing behind him without even saying a word. He turned and saw a certain blue champion, just standing there, yet his presence was menacing.

Shit. Macaque probably told him about the cake.

"Oh- Wha-... W-What is it, Wukong? Did you also w-" Red Son tried to question him, but quickly cut himself off the moment he witnessed the quiet simian just casually taking the cake's plate with his hand and walking away. He didn't even bother giving the red champion a second glance.

Red Son just watched silently in disbelief as the monkey walked away towards presumably their Master's bedroom. He could feel his eye twitch in frustration at how, again, yet another champion was stealing more of his credit.

But whatever.

At this point he was already convinced that he'll be pushed to the side again just so the others could get more love and attention from you. Wouldn't be the first time. He groaned a bit before following Wukong. The simian was indeed headed for your bedroom.

Upon reaching your bedroom, Wukong gently knocked with his free hand on the door while still holding the cake in the other. When he heard you tell him to enter, he opened the door and bowed his head. Red Son moved past the simian in blue and also bowed his head. Then he looked up and saw you in bed with Macaque, MK and Nezha already present either on or around your bed. Macaque was the one in the middle of receiving pets from you. Meanwhile you looked very much tired, as if you had just woken up about a minute ago.

Wukong held up the cake in front of him as he said with a little, rare smile, "Happy Birthday, Master."

Which was soon followed up by the other champions wishing you a Happy Birthday. Including Macaque, whose wishes were muffled due to him snuggling into you. You smiled tiredly, still seeming very much confused for a moment before you realized what was happening. "Aw... Thanks, guys", you said. Then you looked at the cake in Wukong's hands. Your eyes lit up a bit at he sight. "Is... Is this (Favorite Cake)? Did you guys make this... for me?"

Red Son remained silent, knowing the others would just claim all the glory and- "Actually, Red Son made it, Master. We didn't do much this time", Nezha quickly responded with a genuine smile underneath his mask. "We just helped out a bit, but the idea and execution was all his doing."

Red Son slowly turned towards him with his void-black eyes wide open in shock. Did... Did Nezha just make up for earlier? And knowing your attention was no longer on your pink champion, but on your red champion instead, the celestial gave the bull demon a knowing wink. Which made the red-haired boy smile with gratitude. He was given the spotlight for once.

Wukong seemed to have understood what Nezha was doing and decided to chime in, which seemed to encourage the bull demon again. "It's true, Master. He did most of it himself."

Your mouth formed an 'o' as your head turned towards Red Son, who was now blushing a little in embarrassment. You reached out your arm and pat your leg, which was still covered by your blanket, beckoning him over while Macaque scooted a bit away to give the bull demon space to sit on. "C'mere, Red. I wanna thank you properly."

His blush only became more noticeable as he approached your bed, seating himself on it. Then you pulled him a bit closer towards yourself and placed a little kiss on his cheek. This only resulted in his blush becoming worse, and you could swear his entire body began to heat up as his tied up hair turned into flames for just a moment. You gave him another kiss on his reddening cheeks once again before smiling at him.

"Thank you, Red."

He smiled back despite his embarrassment as he nuzzled into your chest.

"You're welcome, Master... Happy Birthday..."

"...Hey Master, where is Mink?"

"Um... I'm not sure actually. Probably still with the Oracle. He came in last night and wanted to borrow the scroll for something involving some lion, I think...? But he said he'll bring back the scroll some time later today."

[ Masterlist ]

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months

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Edelgard, Dimitri, and Mercedes with a s/o who is always tried thought the day, either half asleep or taking a nap somewhere.

Doesn't help that when it's 3am s/o is doing literally anything but sleeping.

(FE3H) Edelgard, Dimitri, and Mercedes with a perpetually tired S/O

just like me fr

Oh lovely, now there was another person who is eternally sleepy in the Black Eagles.

But, at least this time they weren't skipping out on lectures.

Edelgard at first tries not to be overbearing and just gently nudge them in the right direction of trying to get more sleep in the night.

Of course, that does not last very long.

(Edelgard) "I somehow knew you would be in the library, S/O."

(S/O) yawn "Edelgard? Oh, hey. Has the lecture already started?"

Edelgard sighs as her expression softens a little, gently putting a hand on their shoulder.

(Edelgard) "It's nearly time for bed. If you are going to rest, you can at the very least do so in your own room."

She doesn't want to sound like a nag, but she can't help but fret over S/O, at least in private.

Sometimes, she knocks on their door when she suspects they're still not asleep on the nights she can't either.

Those sleepless nights usually result in the two having a heart to heart, and being extremely tired come morning.

But Edelgard would not trade those moments with them for anything in the world.

Dimitri can't help but chuckle at seeing S/O yawn in the morning. The sight was honestly quite cute to him.

If not a little worrying. This was the fourth day in a row they looked ready to drop dead.

(Dimitri) "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a ghost with how ghastly you look."

(S/O) "Ugh, I feel like one..."

(Dimitri) "Then perhaps you'd like something to wake you up? I could ask Mercedes to bake you something, or have Sylvain annoy you to awakening."

(S/O) "Goddess, please don't. It is way too early to be dealing with him...I might take you up on asking Mercedes, though."

He usually brings coffee or some kind of tea to help keep S/O up, or something to let them sleep late at night.

Dimitri trusts them enough to be responsible enough to know when it was time to sleep or not, but he has on occasion found them still awake at midnight.

(Dimitri) "S/O? What is that racket!?"

(S/O) "I needed to clean my room up, it's a little too messy in here."

(Dimitri) "In the dead of night?"

(S/O) "...It's not that late is it?"

(Dimitri) "Late enough that someone else other than me might come and make a noise complaint..."

(S/O) "Well, while you're here, can you lift my bed real quick? I need to grab something, and then I promise to sleep."

S/O was still full of energy, that was either a lie, or they'd sleep during lecture after trying and failing.

(Dimitri) sigh "Alright, please move aside."

Mercedes is probably the best solution for S/O's sleepy tendencies.

That, or she might accidentally make it worse.

Due to her usually calming demanour, S/O feels ten times as sleepy whenever they're together.

Mercedes doesn't particularly mind, since Annette feels the same way too.

In the morning, Mercedes has some sweets that she baked for them to help wake them up.

And if they needed to sleep? She'd happily let them rest their head on her lap.

(Mercedes) "Oh, I know! What if I tell you some of the ghost stories I know to keep you up?"

(S/O) "I-I think I'll pass on that one. The last story you told me, I couldn't keep my eyes closed for hours..."

(Mercedes) "Hm...Well, I'm glad I do such a good job of telling them at least! But I wish that didn't come at a cost of your sleep schedule."

(S/O) "I mean, it wasn't exactly great to begin with."

(Mercedes) "And it's too late to bake any sweets...Oh, I could make you something spicy!"

(S/O) "...Y-You mean you're going to cook?"

(Mercedes) "I'm still trying to learn from Ashe, but I think I could make something great for the both of us!"

Suddenly, S/O became far more alert.

(S/O) "I-I think I'm full for right now, Mercedes! And I'm feeling really awake talking to you too!"

Mercedes looked slightly disappointed before S/O sighed internally.

(S/O) The things I do for love... "...But I wouldn't mind trying at least little!"

Her expression brightened at their response.

(Mercedes) "Really? Okay, let's head to the mess hall!"

(S/O) Goddess be with me...

#fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fire emblem three houses imagines #edelgard x reader #dimitri x reader #mercedes x reader #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #mercedes von martritz

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alienaiver · 1 month

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Hello Love, I would love to request a reader with IBS with Bakugo crushing on them

hi my love !!! i hope you'll enjoy this, thank you for sending in a request! <3

warnings: none, fluff + sfw wordcount: 1.3k notes: kept the specific IBS triggers as vague as possible. we all know bakugous a big fan of organizing and planning. impressing you is no less meticulous than his entire career plan. timeskip, semi-early prohero bakugou under best jeanist's agency!

Bakugou prides himself in his cooking, always has. So when Best Jeanist gave him his own department in the agency with various heroes, sidekicks and support under him, he decided he’d build up trust in various ways.

One of them was to cook for his colleagues weekly, gathering them for lunch in the open office at the center of his department floor, only asking them all to provide their own drinks.

It’s popular immediately, everyone gushing over the homemade food by a rising hero like Dynamight. He takes the praise in stride and it motivates him to surpass his own dishes every week. There’s only one issue.

You don’t eat any of it.

It’s not like you choose to be anti-social when this particular lunch break rolls around. You just always bring your own bento box, even if he keeps insisting it’s all free and that he always makes more than needed so that no one needs to hold back.

He makes a variety of dishes; Asian, European, even American styled foods, and whenever he goes directly to your seat to personally present the dishes, you just give him this wide smile that turns his knees into jelly before you say, “that’s so kind of you, Bakugou! Thank you.” before you stab your chopsticks into your own lunch.

It ticks him off, but mostly, it makes him deflate. Of course Bakugou’s not cooking for eight people once a week only to impress you, but it had been part of his 12-step plan to make you fall in love with him. Though he won’t ever admit that he has specific steps set in motion.

First was to get noticed by you in the agency as a whole. Then, to be promoted by Best Jeanist from newly hired sidekick to established hero, and third's to get his own secretary – which you became, because you got along so well by the water cooler. After that was to get this department. A minor step in the right direction was also to get you a new desk that had more space for your trinkets.

His current step, the food, seems to be his Achilles heel. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that you’d have the audacity to be uninterested. You’ve gotten along so well for years now, it’s strange that you don’t even want to taste. He can’t find it in himself to see it as rude, because as earlier established, you dutifully show up and socialize.

He’s in his office, boots on the desk as he contemplates his next move. His food was supposed to have given him an in into your life outside of work, inviting you home to teach you a few cooking tricks, have a nice wine and fluid conversations that’d make you laugh and weak in the knees.

And yet, here he is, dateless.

For a few weeks now he’s been taken peeks at your lunches whenever he passes your desk, but it’s not like anything specific glares at him, like a heavy gluten allergy or lactose intolerance. There’s dairy some days, he’s seen peanuts in your bento, too – and meat. Your diet really doesn’t exude vegetarianism or like you have any other food restrictions. Before weekends, he’s seen you taste the cakes that Himiko, the support secretary, brings with her. But you declined the baked goods he was given once from a rescue mission on a Tuesday. They were both the same type of cake.

Are you just incredibly picky?

He shakes his head and hides his pout in the collar of his suit; he needs to go on patrol soon. He doesn’t have time to think about this all day.

A few more grueling weeks of grumbling and groaning over how to make you eat his food, he notices a pattern in your lunches that’s taken him a while to put together. Certain items are never in the bento, like eggs or pineapples.

The other night he ate out with his parents, and his mother loudly talked about her colleague’s stomach issues, not caring that everyone in the restaurant was turning their heads to the conversation; Masaru kept trying to douse her noise level. Not only was the topic sort of awkward when everyone around you is eating (though husband and son were no strangers to such subjects during dinner at the Bakugou household), it’d be a bother if a patron recognized Bakugou.

Of course, Mitsuki paid no heed to anyone else but her family at their table, and explained about the condition she’d just learned about. About certain food triggering reactions even if no official allergy was involved; luckily, the healthcare provided by Mitsuki and Masaru’s company covered some very expensive allergy tests, and she’d then told Mitsuki that she had been diagnosed with IBS.

After being dropped off at his own apartment, he’d sat by his computer and googled IBS, which he learned stands for irritable bowel syndrome. He sucked up all knowledge available on the internet, scientific papers and healthcare provider’s talk about certain diets, testimonials from affected people and watched tons of videos from influencers creating awareness on TikTok. If the bags under his eyes were visible at work the day after, no one commented on it.

Now his heartbeat’s through the roof as he puts out the food like usual on the center table, everyone gathering and complimenting him on the smell. His hands are sweaty; more so than normal. He keeps wiping them off on his pants, swallowing excess saliva. In the thermal bag, at the bottom, is a dish specifically made with you in mind. He wonders if you’ll hate it.

You walk in next to Himiko, laughing about a joke she made. You part when you go directly for a seat and Himiko comes up to the make-shift buffet, patting his back in praise.

While everyone is busy filling their plates, Bakugou grabs the last bento box and goes straight to you. He puts it on top of the bento you’re just about to open, “here.”

You freeze for a second, eyes locked on the box. Then you smile up at Bakugou, “that’s so sweet Bakugou, but I brought my own food.”

He almost rolls his eyes before he squats down to lean his arms and head on the table and look up at your eyes. Gently, he says, “it should be safe.”

He hopes his voice doesn't sound as raw as it feels.

The comment takes you back as your eyes are locked onto his. He searches them, drowning in the richness of the color. It’s like he’s at the deep-end of the pool, entranced by a spell, only able to keep himself floating. You raise your brow, “safe?”

He turns away from you with a pout, “I often put pineapple in my curry. And eggs in my bibimbap. This is curry without all the things I’ve noticed you avoid.”

Your eyes travel between the lunch and him, comically back and forth like a cartoon character. “That you’ve noticed I avoid?”

Bakugou blushes; shit. He’d really hoped you wouldn’t catch on to that part. He hides his face in the arms that’s resting on the table edge. “Yeah,” he mutters out, muffled by his hidden face. The silence stretches out, and he’s holding his breath.

After what feels like entirely too long, you let out a small laugh and he hears the lid clicking open. You inhale deeply, and let out a satisfied sigh, “this looks delicious, Bakugou. Did you make it all for me?”

He lifts his head, his eyes still locked to the side. His ears are burning, “mhm,” he nods. You almost coo at him, as you pick up your chopsticks, “this is very kind of you.”

Neither of you notices your colleagues standing around you, various expressions of awe and admiration. You’ve both been the office gossip for some months now.

Bakugou looks at you as soon as you’ve taken the first bite, determined to see your reaction through his embarrassment. Through your chewing you can’t help but smile, stars emerging glittering and shimmering in your eyes as you reach a hand to your cheek, “Bakugou, this is amazing!” you say, taking another mouthful as fast as possible. He loves the way his name sounds when it comes out from your lips; you use it so often it makes him dizzy.

“Can you teach me how to make this? Please?”

Step six completed.

He smirks, “sure. It’s a date.”

check out if my requests are open here ✨

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bakugou katsuki fluff #mha x reader #mha x you #bakugou x you #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #nohr.writing #nohr.bnha #nohr.request #THIS WAS SO FUN TO DO. ILY BAKUGOU hes a little freak (affectionate)#i hope youll enjoy it dira!!! thank u again for encouraging me always!!! smooching you my love!

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pascaloverx · 13 days

Text

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

THREE

FOUR

You're trying to avoid looking directly at Steve while he enjoys an éclair and sips your mediocre coffee. In reality, you're pretending to be busy in the back of the bakery, hoping he'll leave without asking you anything else. Despite him being easy on the eyes, you're afraid he might be too persuasive, and you might accidentally give away Barnes, which would break his trust in you.

"You always knew your hands could make treats like these that seem to be made by angels?" Steve asks as he stands up from the small table where he was sitting. You smile slightly, finding his compliment to your baking skills sweet, though you're still on edge.

"In reality, my mother is a chef, so I was always inclined to work with cooking. Ironically, my mother isn't very fond of baking. But I fell in love with it, making some desserts and breads. To answer your question, I always knew I had to be good at something culinary, even if just as a hobby," you speak gently as you collect the plate and utensils that Steve used. When he hands them to you, your hands briefly touch. You notice that his hands are incredibly soft for a guy, and the sensation sends a slight shiver down your spine.

“Are you interested in going out today?” Steve asks, still close to you. At first, you think he might be joking, but he really seems to want to go out with you. However, something tells you that it's more out of suspicion than genuine interest.

“I don’t know your friend, and a date isn’t going to change that. I sincerely hope you find this Bucky of yours, but it won’t be with me.” You say, stepping away and likely sounding too blunt. What a hassle—having to turn away a handsome stranger to protect another handsome stranger.

“It’s clear when you’re lying. I saw your reaction to Barnes’s photo, which might be nothing, but it seems like something. So, go out with me and prove me wrong, or cowardly hide the fact that you know James Barnes. The choice is yours.” Rogers’s blue, maybe greenish eyes seem to pierce through you. He’d make a great priest, as something in his words eats away at your guilt. You’re lying to him, and it doesn’t feel fair. But he could be deceiving you, and you can’t take that risk.

"I close the bakery normally at six in the evening, if the business is slow. There's a restaurant right across the street; we can have pizza and maybe a glass of wine. You can interrogate me as much as you want. After that, this matter will be closed. Does that sound good?" You say, looking him straight in the eye, and then extend your hand towards him, waiting for him to seal the deal. He takes your hand firmly while looking at you with determination.

Steve then leans in close to you, almost as if he’s about to kiss you. It would be crazy, right? But then he whispers, "I’ll be at the restaurant at seven o'clock waiting for you. I believe you don’t want me to come to your place and find out what you're hiding from me. And by the way, tell Barnes it’s a shame he’s making such a beautiful woman turn into a big liar." Steve says, leaving you speechless before exiting your bakery.

The thought of finding Barnes's best friend and lying to him, while also accepting a date that seems both tempting and terrifying, distracts you for the rest of the day. So, an hour earlier than usual, you close your bakery and rush home, knowing you need to inform Barnes, Bucky, or whatever other name he goes by, that his best friend is searching for him. As soon as you enter your apartment, you rush to your bedroom, frantically searching for something to wear for your date with Steve. Your mind is in chaos, and no dress seems right for a man whose main interest in seeing you is to figure out if you're lying. On top of that, you're confused about why you're even in this situation—lying and acting like a criminal when you've done nothing wrong. All of this because a customer at your bakery is handsome enough to make you lose your sense of right and wrong. Suddenly, a wave of desperation washes over you. Amidst the clothes scattered on the floor, you reach into the pocket of your pants and pull out your phone. You dial the emergency number, feeling a wave of nausea, both metaphorical and literal. Are you really about to report Mr. Barnes? Well, you’re just telling the truth, right? It will probably lead to his arrest, maybe even worse... but that’s not your problem, is it?

"You can tell them I'm standing in your living room when they ask if you know where I am," a voice says from behind, startling you. James is standing there with his arms crossed, looking less than pleased. You quickly hang up the phone before the emergency line even picks up. Honestly, you feel like a rebellious child caught red-handed doing something wrong.

"How did you get in here?" you ask as you try to recover from the shock. Your hands tremble as your nerves take over. You're not sure if you're safe with Barnes or if he's the kind to seek revenge for an almost-betrayal.

"I came to check on you, see if everything was alright. I noticed you got here early, and I got worried… but it seems that was for nothing. You didn’t need to rush to your apartment just to turn me in. And don’t bother denying it." Barnes says, still standing there, his voice low and tense, sending chills down your spine. It’s clear you’ve struck a nerve—maybe his pride, maybe something deeper. You stare at him, searching for the right words to explain yourself.

"I won’t lie, I was going to turn you in. I’m not like you. The weight of knowing something that others don’t, it’s eating me alive. First, two agents showed up at the bakery looking for you, and now your best friend, who doesn’t seem like he's just here to catch up. I had a moment of weakness…" You trail off, not explicitly naming what you were about to do, though it’s painfully clear. You were ready to hand Barnes over to the authorities. He lets out a frustrated sigh, followed by a bitter smile. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel exposed, almost tainted, under his gaze.

Barnes steps closer, extending his phone toward you since yours is still on the floor, discarded in your rush to hang up. You look at him, puzzled, unsure of what he wants you to do. "Clear your conscience, make the call. I promise I won’t resist," he sighs, waiting for you to take the phone from his hand. An unsettling feeling creeps over you, a weight of guilt, as if you’re betraying him in the worst way. His calm demeanor makes it even worse, and the thought of going through with it makes you feel like you're stabbing him in the back.

"Are you really going to let me turn you in just like that?" you ask softly, feeling a bit ashamed, knowing that no matter his answer, there’s something strangely intimate about him letting you be the one to hand him over. Maybe you’re losing your mind. Barnes looks at you for a long moment, his eyes softening just a little.

"If that’s what you need to do," he says quietly, "then go ahead. I won’t stop you." You can't help but feel a knot in your chest. The idea of having this power over him, of being the one who decides his fate, makes everything feel even more complicated.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like that. It wasn’t fair to try to turn you in; it was just too much pressure, I’m not used to this." You look at Barnes, regretful of what you might have done. His hand with the phone is in front of you, so you place both your hands under his and shake your head as if to say he can trust you, at least for a moment. He looks at you, then places the phone on the coffee table. He turns to you, placing his hand gently on your face and caressing your cheek. It’s so comforting that you close your eyes, feeling like you can finally breathe peacefully for the first time.

"You don’t have to carry this burden, not for me," he says softly. You’re still lost in the gentle touch of Barnes’ hand. You then open your eyes to find Barnes looking at you as if you were his most precious treasure. All the anger he seemed to be feeling earlier seems to have vanished.

"I'll go on the date with your best friend and try to throw him off. I hope you'll accept this as an apology," you say, looking into Barnes' blue eyes. He’s still standing right in front of you. "I don’t want you to expose yourself like this, Y/N. I can handle Steve my way. This life full of dangers and lies is mine; I never should have involved you in it," Barnes replies, pulling his hand away from you. His gaze is distant, and it saddens you in some way.

"Let me do this for you, then," you say almost weakly as you feel Barnes pulling away. "And then I'll leave you in peace." You can’t bear to look at Barnes anymore; instead, you gaze down at your feet.

“Look into my eyes, Y/N. And tell me, when you look at me, do you see a man who isn't at peace when he's with you?” There’s a melancholy in Barnes's voice, and you gather the courage to meet his gaze. He’s closer than you realized.

"I see a man who has a lot to hide. You must carry a burden much greater than mine. So let me help you; maybe I can be of use to you." You step closer to Barnes, and as he looks at you once more, you feel as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe or move. You’re sure you must be blushing, given how hot your body feels.

"Wear a dress that shows your legs; it’ll distract Rogers enough to make him forget why he’s interrogating you. Also, lie about trivial details. Tell him your favorite color is green, that you have two older brothers—something like that. He’ll analyze your facial expressions to see when you’re telling the truth or lying. It’ll confuse him. Try not to deny that you know me; just say you remember seeing me as one of your customers. He might be convinced." Barnes advises you, but doesn’t come any closer. He appears hesitant, as if struggling with conflicting thoughts. You nod in agreement without speaking. The silence in your apartment becomes painfully oppressive. You want to walk over to Barnes, to kiss him and perhaps make love on the cold floor of your apartment. But he doesn’t seem to feel the same way, as he turns and walks away, leaving you with a heavy heart.

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cyberpersonstranger · 2 months

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𝑻𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑰 𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑱𝑰𝑲𝑰

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 !🐙! 𝑮.𝑵 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪/𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳. 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪. 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

Tamaki strikes me as such a Mama's boy. Not in a bad way or anything but as in the type of guy who gets along with his mom more than anyone. After a few hangouts with him where he begins being a bit more open he'll probably ask you to meet her! If you get along well with his mom he'll most likely start to initiate hangouts more and more. If his mom trusts you expect outings with her too sometimes!

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋↴

" Y/n this is my.. uh.. my mom. "

There will probably be a period in time where you'll think Tamaki doesn't want to talk to you when you text him. He doesn't mean to make you feel that way! Not at all! He just doesn't know how to answer sometimes, so he'll get super dry. Once you say "Do you not want to talk to me or something?" He's immediately freaking out and apologizing profusely maybe even sending you an apology paragraph! He really didn't mean to make you feel that way. After all that he'll be not only responding in a matter of a second but also indulging in conversations over text as much as he can. (Also 100% uses emoticons)

"That Grape Kid in 1-A said WHAT? I'm so so sorry! :( "

Despite how shy he is Tamaki loves kids. Not in a gross way, in a caring way. You'll probably walk in on Eri doing his makeup a few times a week. You laugh as you help him get it off a few hours later, then he might ask you if he'd be a good father. Sometimes on weekends you'll even watch Barbie movies with him, Mirio, Nejire, and Eri! Other than Eri, if you're out and about with Tamaki you can see him crack a small smile seeing kids with their parents.

"Hey.. do you.. maybe think I could be a good dad.. one day?"

Tamaki likes to bake, however he's pretty shitty at it. If you catch him attempting to bake he'll freak out and act like he isn't doing anything. That's where you take control! You help him with whatever it is he's attempting to bake and it'll draw you closer to him. Sometimes he'll even text you first with recipes or cute cookie cutters he found. His favorite flavors are probably vanilla and pumpkin. He just seems like a pumpkin guy. (I know most people would say cooking due to his quirk but imagine whipping up a batch of butterfly shaped cookies with Tamaki, isn't that ADORABLE?)

"Look at this new flavor I found! :D" (said over text.)

Tamaki LOVES flowers. When I tell you he gives them to everyone I mean it. One morning you wake up to fresh sunflowers in front of your door. You find his name shakily written on the paper holding them, maybe Eri's too. It's not just you receiving them though, he'll give them to Mirio, Nejire, teachers, and just people he genuinely appreciates. He's not too good with his words so he shows his appreciation to his friends with small gifts like that.

"Those uh.. sunflowers reminded me of you."

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂↴

Tamaki is touch starved. He's too anxious to let anyone hold, kiss, or even hold hands with him. Once you initiate it (yes, you will HAVE to be the one to initiate physical affection) he doesn't know what to do, so he just lets out a small squeal. You who are afraid of making him uncomfortable will ask him if he's alright with whatever you're doing and he'll just respond with a weak nod. However, on the bright side he might initiate stuff a bit more with your permission of course. What kind of boy do you take him for?

"Can we maybe... you know.. hug?"

As a lover, Tamaki's main love language is quality time and gift giving. He likes physical affection a lot, but it's just a tad bit difficult for him to express what he wants. So, every time you guys go on the simplest of dates expect flowers, sometimes jewelry, or maybe even some candy you said you loved. Speaking of dates, he'd prefer something more casual considering his anxiety. He likes lounging around with you as you both look for a movie to watch, or simply helping you go online shopping. (He'll ask if he can pay for you, if you deny he's gonna pay for it anyways.)

"N-No it's okay, I'll pay.. it's the least I could do."

I just want to say.. MAKEOUTS WITH TAMAKI ARE TOO SWEET. They don't happen often but when they do you have full power. You let your tongue swirl against his as your fingers thread through that messy indigo hair of his, meanwhile his hands rest on your chest (Not like that you pervs.) When either of you pull away he won't reinitiate the passion but he will just stare at you in awe. Sometimes he'll even ask you to pepper his face in kisses! Tamaki loves kisses once you start giving them to him.

"Can you kiss me.. like.. uhm.. all over?"

I feel like Tamaki probably has a few younger siblings, my guess is 2 younger sisters, which is probably why he's so good with Eri. Once you meet them you realize they're total opposites of their older brother. They're loud and vocal, screaming "WOAH TAMA LANDED A S/O!!" Regardless of your gender they'll ask if they can 'bedazzle' both you and Tamaki. After meeting them Tamaki will profusely apologize, he doesn't want his sisters to scare you off! Once you explain to him it's okay and you honestly love them he'll bring you to babysit them with him, because low and behold... his sisters absolutely adore you!

"The girls asked if you could.. hangout with t-them."

No matter how long you and Tamaki have been dating.. he 100% talks about you to Fatgum and Kirishima. He just has the best S/O! You're so kind, patient, and caring to him and are the only thing running through his mind some days. Kirishima tells him hes so manly for loving you as much as he does and that you're a very lucky person. Fatgum laughs at the indigo haired boy, he's never seen a teenager so lovestruck. Tamaki will probably take you to an agency party if one gets held. He stands by your side the entire time and by the time Fatgum finds him he immediately says "Is this the one you're always talking about?"

"Hey you must be the one Tamaki's always talking about!"

"I d-don't know what he's.. um.. talking about."

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ↴

𝐓𝐖𝐬: nsfw obviously, CHARACTER AGED UP. Loss of v card, oral, hair pulling

Tamaki is shy. Very shy. You're probably the one he loses his virginity too. He's embarrassed to admit it, but just adapts to what you're into as you guide him. When you show him what pace you like as he goes into you he LOVES the way you scratch at or softly rubs his shoulder blades with your fingers. Like yes, help him either ease into this or mark his back up.

"Ngh.. can you.... rub my.. s-shoulders?"

Tamaki's quirk requires eating, and a lot of it. He's had to eat a lot of different foods and lets just say, boy is this guy good with his mouth. He loves going down on you, he loves showing you that he can make you feel so good. However, he likes it when you teach him. Guiding him on how to lick/suck your heat by pulling his hair. You've learned he gets a bit whiney if you're not touching his hair or gripping it whilst he gives your core the attention it needs. Sometimes he'll purposefully do it bad so you can tug his hair and put him where you want him.

"Nooo.. please.. put it back.. put your h-hand back.."

TAMAKI IS TOO CARING IN BED. He doesn't even worry about that raging ache in his dick, he needs to make sure you cum, to make sure you're satisfied. He needs to make sure you're pleased. Once you see how red his cock is due to his painful hardness you offer to take care of him but he'll deny your offer until you cum. Your sexual needs will always go above his no matter what.

"No.. no no.... you haven't.. cummed yet.."

A/N: HOW DO WE LIKE AMAJIKI HEAD CANONS!! MONOMA'S NEXT! Totally willing to do a part 2 on Tamaki.

#cyberpersonstranger #mha #bnha #mha bnha #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki #mha tamaki #mha x reader #suneater #Spotify

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