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love-toxin · 1 year

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MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME

RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--

(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)

Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.

You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.

But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.

Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!

God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.

It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.

It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.

It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?

Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.

Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.

Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.

It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.

How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.

#don't look at me i know im 100% off the shits #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader #spicy writing #ellie writes #anons

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alizalayne · 6 months

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Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

#fursuit

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yawarakaizai · 1 year

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pm dazai and pm chuuya who constantly fight each other for readers attention... but then someone hurts reader and all of a sudden they work together so seamlessly to kill the mf who dared to touch you (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

ⵌ YOU'RE QUITE THE SAME IF LOVE'S THE GAIN

SENDER Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT PM!Dazai Osamu + PM!Chuuya Nakahara (BSD) CONTENTS jealousy, reader+chuuya+dazai are 16/17, reader is an heiress, hostage situation, fluff n cute!! (implied) torture, worried chuuya NOTE This wasn't the department you specialised in. You wanted to manage finances, and while Mori was more than happy to grant you the role - Dazai would nag for you to join him and Chuuya on missions that didn't concern you in the slightest. There's only so much patience one can have. COMPANY Tangled Up

A/N THI S WA S RLL Y C UT E !! sorr y this one was l ate ;//; i hav e a scho o l trip tmrw ^^// maybe i'l l t ry sm ut nex t ... i have a l ot of good re qs i ho pe i ca n ge t throu gh the m a ll ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

Missions with Dazai and Chuuya always resulted in a thrilling adventure. There was never a time you'd look back on a mission you'd had with both and say to yourself, 'that was a bummer.'

You weren't supposed to work alongside them. Within the Port Mafia, Dazai and Chuuya were always to be assigned missions that were too dangerous for someone ordinary.

And, you? Well.

You possessed no ability. Your purpose in the Port Mafia was your background - your status.

Heiress to your father's wealth in your homeland of France, your parents were part of a certain elite group that made you a walking target should you venture without protection.

That is why you were always thrown as the bait.

With all respects to Dazai, that is, who introduced to Mori the idea of having you be the helpless, dumb damsel skipping merrily into danger.

You weren't happy about this arrangement and that was made clear by your sulking.

" Oh, look at me, I am an unattended woman. "

You sluggishly wandered around the dark halls of the abandoned facility, your voice just barely loud enough for the walls to echo your sarcastic jokes.

" This is serioouuuss! " The earpiece cleverly hidden in your ear crackled into life, you knew the voice belonged to Dazai. " Been chasing this guy for ages now, I think he's got some sort of phasing ability. He might appear outta no where, but Chuuya's trailing behind you, so don't worry. "

As if it could ease your nerves, it only made you regret agreeing to this further. " Great. I'm comforted. " You replied in a snarky manner.

You were dressed in lavish clothing that not even your pompous, arrogant mother would ever think of wearing. You seemed to have a distaste for reminders of the generational wealth you possess and opt to distance yourself from a 'royal' life. It proved impossible when it was the only thing that allowed you to maintain a job in the Port Mafia.

The gloomy and cold atmosphere left you hugging yourself for warmth as you traversed through complicated corridors. Although your earpiece was not connected to Chuuya's, you worried that you were walking off-course and/or Chuuya knew where you are meant to go, but could not blow his cover to correct your stupid mistakes.

Chuuya did a pretty good job at staying hidden. You could not hear a thing other than the clacking of your heels against metal flooring. " Ohh.. I'm so scared. " You pitched your voice higher, this being your best shot at luring out whoever it is the PM were after. You weren't taking this seriously, that was clear to both Dazai and Chuuya.

This wasn't the first mission you three were together, there were a few others that you'd two go through but this was the first time you were thrown a seal to a shark.

Dazai was elsewhere in the building, you weren't sure where and he gave no information when asked. With the affirmation Chuuya had your back, you knew that there was nothing to fear.

You would have appreciated some communication on his end though. You figured it must be his unnatural shyness towards you that made it hard for him to be too forward.

You easily noticed how his behaviour would change around you. And with Dazai around? Oh, boy.

Even if you could be a little air-headed sometimes, you weren't dumb to the hints in front of you.

From the day you were rescued from captivity - a story for another day - Chuuya stood out. You find it funny how he'd be unable to face you for more than a minute before looking away hurriedly. It sprung your new-found hobby of teasing Chuuya whenever you could. Of course Dazai picked up on it pretty soon after too and Chuuya has not known peace since. You couldn't help it! You weren't to blame! You giggled to yourself reminding yourself of Chuuya's little crush, fingers intertwined behind your back loosely, your back straightening from its previous hunched-over stance.

Feeling sudden confidence surge through your veins with the recollection of memories with Chuuya, you were just about to turn on your heel to address the gravity manipulator until a hand grabbed you from behind - before you had the chance to see who it was, you felt cold metal press against your temple that made you freeze up.

In front of you, Chuuya had finally revealed himself, but he too was stood as still as stone.

" Kill me 'n the girl goes too. "

They have never let it get THIS bad. Not ever have you ever even been in the hold or this close to an enemy, and here you were at gunpoint, something that was not planned.

You didn't dare break eye contact from Chuuya. This might just be your final moment. With great trust in Chuuya and Dazai's ability, you weren't sure how they'd proceed with this.

Chuuya might end up being the last thing you see. The look of fear on his face too didn't ease your nerves. They were not in the position to bargain. And funnily enough, you blamed yourself for this.

" Fine, yeah. Let her go. " Chuuya stood up from his mid-offensive position and dropped whatever weapon he had. A gun and a small knife for close-combat, he raised his arms above his head to firmly show his surrender. The hand that was previously on your lower hip raised to roughly cover your mouth, a gloved palm shoving itself in your face and that broke you down immediately. Fear took over and your knees went weak with pure fright, yet the man behind you had his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek with such a harsh grab that it kept you standing up-right, the barrel of the gun pressing in deeper to your skull, sure to leave indents - that is if you weren't just shot dead. Then an indent would be the less of your worries.

With your back pressed against the chest of the stranger, you could feel the vibration of his confident voice as he spoke loudly, " Don't take me for a fool, Nakahara. You could easily use that ability of yours. " And that was true. You actually forgot about Chuuya's ability. Your mind was too foggy at the moment.

It was the first time you saw Chuuya Nakahara look uncertain in whether this mission would end well or not. He smiled insecurely as he let out a gruff exhale, " Wouldn't do that if I wanted her to live, yeah? Now let her go. "

Even if he kept grinning, you could see how the sweat dripped from his face even through your own teary eyes. With the palm pressing over your mouth and nose, it was difficult to breathe and steady your heart that was already beating fast enough as it is.

" Hmm.. " The gun was lowered slowly, caressing down your cheek and to your chest before being positioned at the pit of your stomach, " But do I really wanna? "

You began to squeal in protest, unable to accept your helplessness but it seemed someone else did your job of retaliation for you.

In the blink of an eye, the man holding you captive fell backwards and consequentially dragged you down with him but ended up tripping you up a bit further. You fell with your head banging on the hard floor, your captors hand slipping from your mouth and allowing you to briefly ‎gasp for air. The clattering of a gun was heard somewhere yet you were too dazed to properly do anything at this point.

The last thing you remember was the feeling of being raised from your underarms and distant shouting.

" -as if she'd be able to do-"

" No, you shut up! You could've done something easily. "

" It was your idea to use her as a fuckin' pawn, don't twist this. "

" Uhh! I'm sowwy~! I thought Chuuya Naka-fucking-hara had some balls to intercept~! "

" Zip it! She's waking up! "

Groggily, you stared at the two of them, sitting opposite each-other on the end of your bed. Judging by the bright white, you were most likely in the infirmary.

Chuuya was the first to lean in, he must have not noticed his hand coming to rest over yours which were folded nearly over your stomach. He had hope in his eyes, contrasting with the emotion you last remember them in. " Y/N? " He called out to you, taking a glimpse at the steady heart monitor.

Testing your voice, you let out a low hum before croaking out a meek, " Heya. "

Dazai was the first to break a laugh at your first words. His and Chuuya's eyes were soft.

" Don't look cute, I'm pissed at you both. " You huffed, turning your head to the side, avoiding them both.

Chuuya held your hand a little tighter, he understood if you decided to be unhappy with him. " Sorry, Y/N. I really fucked that up. Shit, I just didn't know what to do. " He explained himself with such compassion you were urged to look at him again. " I guess I discovered seein' you like that. Uh. In trouble and stuff, makes me seize up badly. "

From the corner of your eye you saw Dazai huff before standing up, but Chuuya held onto your attention as he continued speaking tenderly to you, " I thought that this loser would have planned a set-up and knew that was gonna happen but. It took too long. I realised last second he didn't plan shit. "

" Hey! Don't be so rude, Chuuya~ Besides, if it weren't for me, precious princess would've been shot. " You saw Dazai reach into his back pocket for something you couldn't quite recognise yet.

" Oh, that was you, Dazai? " You asked, alluding to the sudden drop during the action. " Yuup~ And y'know what the best part is? "

You quirked a brow and stole a shared glance from Chuuya. Dazai was unexpectable.

" Since me and Chuuya are so nice.. "

So Chuuya was in on this too?

Dazai paused his sentence and hummed in a baby-ish voice. " Kill me and the girl goes too! " He mocked, earning him an earnest giggle from you. " That wasn't funny, Dazai! I was scared! " You retorted, but still couldn't wipe that smile off of your face.

" Sorry, sorry. But, like he wanted, he's not dead. "

Dazai held the object he had pulled out in front of him. Bloodied priars.

" Technically death caused by unattended injuries is not 'killing him' on MY end, isn't that right, Chuuya? "

Chuuya nod his head before you.

They have that man locked in a fucking basement.

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

#chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #pm dazai x reader #pm chuuya x reader #dazai x reader x chuuya #bsd x reader

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thebunnybabyblog · 5 months

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"Tear you apart" 18+ Snape x reader

This is just pure smut so be warned! No one under the age of 18 should venture any further! Run away now you are not welcomed to read this please go play roblox or something :)

Age is not told in this but reader is 18+, Snape is whatever age your headcanon prefers. This is a female oriented one shot so specific terms will be said here that apply to that! Also don't even say a thing about her nickname this is soooo not a shamless insert for myself, def not 👀

the song "tear you apart" by she wants revenge is what inspired me to write this. please listen bc god it makes my head go brrrrrrrrr when i listen to it lol with that please enjoy and tell me what you thought! lots of love! 💕

Potions had always been your best subject. There was just something about the skill and craftsmanship that made you feel so compelled to learn as much as you could. It was like art and science all in one. The precision and dedication that it took to make something with so much value to the wizarding world was vastly impressive to you, but what really sealed the deal was the man that had taught you all that you knew.

Severus Snape was a god to you. The poised mysterious genius who seemed to be able to look death right in his eyes and laugh in annoyance. The way he just glided around school with so much power and command sent shivers down your spine. Always wanting to be in his good graces and never a means of annoyance like most students. You wouldn’t call yourself a know it all teacher's pet who would tattle acting as the school yard spy but truly as an admirer and helping hand.

You made it clear that you admired, appreciated and respected him and his immense wealth of knowledge. It’s not like you didn’t respect all of your professor's knowledge because you really did but he was just different? Part of it was how bad you felt from the vast amount of disrespect he received. Of course you understood that kids are difficult to look past tone and attitude but if you did your work and listened when he spoke and spoke only kind words to him, he was kind to you.

Over the 7 years at Hogwarts you grew a pretty decent relationship with him. Of course it wasn’t like you skipped down the hall hand-in-hand but he had gained a level of trust and mutual respect for you. To the point he had offered you to be an assistant of sorts to him, nothing major but since you had expressed after graduation you wanted to work at being a professional potioneer and owning your own shop one day, he let you come two to three days a week and help him with different tasks. It would always be a surprise that day on what you were doing. It could be organizing and taking stock of the store room, observing and taking notes of class projects of lower grades that were brewing (as some potions could take days or weeks to brew) or even grading first to third year assignments. All the while you'd be free to ask questions and just chat really.

You had really cherished these meetings but your social group really never understood why you were even wanting to be there. For them it seemed like a punishment.

“You had to organize the storeroom?!? What did you do wrong to have to do that??” They’d exclaim in shock and then be in total disbelief when you said,

“It wasn't a punishment, it was actually quite fun! He showed me some rare ingredients that you can only get on a full moon on the tallest mountain in the Himalayas every 6 1/2 years!”

None of it ever seemed like a chore; it was an honor. This man, with such great skill, had taken you even the tiniest bit under his wing. I guess people just couldn’t understand how such a bright and bubbly person would want to spend time in a dark gloomy dungeon with the dungeon bat himself. But you knew he was just misunderstood and it didn’t help that you found him to be the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on.

To you he was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. His tall looming body, dark midnight eyes that looked straight to your core, chiseled features that seemed to be carved out of the most precious white marble. He was more than just looks, he was powerful, knowledgeable and what people didn’t seem to see but he was quite funny and gentle. The way he treated his work as if he was Michelangelo diligently and painstakingly painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling upside down on his back. He was just brilliant to be around and absorbing even a speck of him was a gift.

You couldn’t lie to yourself though, you were down bad. The type of bad that made you find yourself absentmindedly drifting off to space only to come back down to earth and see you had doodled all over your notes with little drawings of hearts with SS in them and sketches of his striking features or kicking your feet and going red when he pops into your mind while in class because he said something that just rolled off his tongue in just the right way that made you fantasize scenarios in your head.

A crush was truly an understatement at this point. If he asked you to be his pet you would be at his feet curled up in an instant. Never making it too apparent though as to never show him any type of actions that would threaten your ability to continue this precious opportunity to learn and just be around him, or so you thought.

Friday was your easy day and your most favorite day of the week. You only had one class and that was of course advanced potions at the end of the day and a day where you always stayed after to help out. Today was especially good because it was a day when everything just went well. Snape had shown the class how to brew amortentia, the most powerful love potion. Not only was it an exciting lecture and potion to brew but it got your head to brew all sorts of things as well.

“Gods I wish I could give him a drink of mine! I’d do anything for him to feel even a slight bit like me, the way I do for him!” You thought into the void of your mind. You couldn’t help to doodle while you waited for the last few minutes of the class to count down, not like you were leaving but just waiting for your afternoon Friday treat to roll around. Your little delusions were helped by the fact he had actually praised your work when he was making his way around the classroom before the class was over.

“Very good work Miss [last name], excellent pearl color and the smell is just right. You will make a fine potion master one day” he said in a smooth silky voice. You were lost in every word that rolled off his sharp tongue. It felt as if you had drank this entire cauldron, gulping it down like a man who was stranded in the desert who finally found water.

“Thank you sir!” You squeaked out, kicking your feet enthusiastically underneath your table. If only people could understand how good his praises felt, the chokehold they held on her heart.

“Alright class it seems our time is up, most of you really need to pay more attention when I’m up here teaching… this is a powerful potion that needs to be respected and I saw many glaring mistakes that certainly should have been avoided… I will expect a report on my desk about the history of amortentia by Monday morning sharp. If I didn’t tear your potion to shreds in my walkthrough you are excluded.” The class filled with annoyed groans and frustrated sighs and a few looks were shot your way since they knew the “dungeon bunny” (your unofficial nickname your friend would poke fun at you with) was exempted once again. It wasn’t your fault you enjoyed potions, that's what Hogwarts was for, to find your passions and excel and it did help when you were in love.

The class cleaned up their areas and one-by-one filed out of the room looking a bit defeated by the sudden addition of weekend homework but you stayed behind ready for whatever task he was willing to give you today.

“Great lecture as always professor!” You said looking up to him with a soft smile.

“Thank you Miss. [last name], it’s a shame not everyone is as devoted to potions as you and I.” he replied back to you in a smooth tone. For him to put you and him into the same category made your heart thump in your chest. His praises made your hair stand on end as if caught in an electrical storm. A blush was surely visible on your face when your brain was able to comprehend his kind words.

“Oh! I am nothing compared to your dedication, you are a god compared to me!” You spouted back not even thinking, making you blush harder.

“Oh. My. Gods. I did not just say that, what a loser, I must seem like such a fangirl. He's your professor, not an idol.” You barked in your head, now thoroughly embarrassed. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts when you heard a soft chuckle escape from his throat.

“I guess I should take my place up in the heavens then” he said as he made his way back around to his desk “today if you can, I would appreciate a walk through of the storeroom and make a list of anything that is running low. Will that be something you can help take off my plate today?” He asked in a way that sounded like silk.

“Of course professor you don’t even need to ask!” Gods you were pathetic and you knew it but you didn’t care an ounce. It felt so good to be of service, to do anything he asked of you. You were his devoted little bunny and hopped when he said hop. You’d never admit it to your friends but you loved being called his dungeon bunny because gods it really was so fitting for how you felt. And if it meant spending ages looking through every tiny vial in that room you would do it on your hands and knees to be around him.

Making your way into the room you began to look through the endless rows of ingredients. You knew this was going to take a long time but it was worth it. You had been working for only about 15 minutes when you felt a cold rush of air against your back behind you, not thinking much of it, only that it was just a draft, you didn’t even turn to look. It wasn’t until you heard the door click shut behind you locking you in the small room.

“Umm professor, did you close the door?” You said still bent over looking at vials in the cabinet below you before turning around.

“Yes” he replied

You jumped at the sound of him right behind you. He glides and somehow makes no noise when he walks, some people think he casts a charm on his shoes to keep them silent. You spin around and are now in very close proximity to him. Your breath is stuck in your throat and you push yourself up against the shelf. The vials behind you raddle as your back hits the wood. You look up to his looming figure and he looks down at you with his sparkling black eyes and his equally raven black hair falling around his face.

“I’m quite sorry, did I frighten you?” He says with a sly smile.

“Oh umm no hehe of course not.” You say with your eyes closed with an embarrassed smile slapped across your face.

“Oh good I would be awfully sad to scare off my little dungeon bunny.” His words slapped you across your face.

You look up to him in shock, eyes wide and heart pounding out of your chest, “d… dungeon bunny?!? How does he know about the nickname my friends call me?” You think in a panic.

“You scream it quite loud in your head all the time. It’s not hard to miss.” He replies to your thought. As if your eyes weren’t wide enough they were bigger now, you now understood he had the ability to use legilimency. The thought of every embarrassing little thing you have thought about him over the last 7 years bounced around in your mind. You were in utter shambles over how embarrassing you had been without your knowledge. Especially since you never were shy to let your daydreams run amok in the dirtiest ways you could think of.

“You enjoy being my bouncing little bunny don’t you?” He questioned as if he was a predator circling and taunting its prey.

“I….. I umm… I-“ was all that you were able to stutter out. A deep chuckle rumbled up through his chest and you felt his cool breath on your face as he loomed over your shanking frame. You couldn’t help to smell the smooth smell of spearmint and honey on his breath sending your head spinning.

“Does cat have your tongue, little bunny? Usually you have so much to say up here.” He said as he tapped a finger melodically against your temple. You felt your knees wobbling under you and you couldn’t help to just look up at him like a deer caught in headlights as you white knuckled the counter behind you.

“You're usually such a good girl and speak when spoken to”, grabbing your chin and squeezing your cheeks with his long slender fingers. “Now I will only repeat myself once more,” his tone stern and filled with authority. “I said you enjoy being my little. Bouncing. Bunny. Don’t you y/n?”

“Y… yes” you shyly mustered out.

“Yes what?” He commanded as he squeezed harder

“Yes sir!” You practically shouted, trembling in his grasp.

“See that wasn’t hard was it?” Leaning down to be eye level with you all the while still holding on to you tight.

“N… no sir.” You couldn’t help but feel like putty in his grasp. You wanted to be devoured, like you said before, if he said hop you would hop and you meant it.

“You know even if I couldn’t hear your detailed perversions every time you laid eyes on me you are quite obvious and oblivious to your surroundings.” He released your face and leaned in close to your ear. His hair tickled your skin as it cascaded over your cheek.

“Your little love doodles are very cute, you think I don’t notice them as I walk around the room? You’re lucky I don’t punish you for being off task so frequently but you are always such a good girl I can’t bring myself to punish you.”

You were overheating with your skin flushed pink, you felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of your forehead.

“Hmmm It is getting pretty hot in here, why don’t you take off your coat?” He hummed, pulling back from your ear. His fingers found their way under your lapels and slid your jacket off your shoulders onto the floor.

“T..thank you.” Not even sure why you were thanking him but it felt so good too.

“Such a polite girl, seems like someone needs a treat.” Taking your chin back into his grasp, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss onto your lips. Still in utter shock and disbelief from what was happening you just looked at him wide eyed but in an instant you shut them and sunk your weight into his hand. You grabbed onto the side of his robe for support and let out a moan that shocked you both. You could feel him smile against you and his left hand sneak to your waist and pulled you close into him.

Your eyes shot open when you felt him hard against your stomach taken aback by just how large he felt under all of those dark clothes. “Gods his cock is huge!” You couldn’t help but scream in pure lust loud in your head, immediately looking up to him in terror as you might as well have just said that out loud. Somehow his eyes grew darker than they naturally were and you knew it was game over. He was about to devour you whole.

You looked away fast in utter embarrassment but his hand snaked its way through your hair and pulled your face back to his and whispered once more into your ear, “I want to fucking tear you apart.” He said, so sharp it pierced through your body like flying arrows across the battlefield. Before you knew it the hand in your hair pulled you to the ground and you were on your knees faced with the serpent trapped behind his wool trousers.

“Now be the good little bunny you are and set your God free” he said as the hair he had in his fist fell free from his grasp.

Filled with nerves, your trembling fingers slowly reached up and skated across the black wool, hesitating for a moment once they touched the cool metal buckle of his belt. You looked up as if making sure it really was alright. He returned your wordless question with a light smile of reassurance. You slowly slid the leather belt out of the metal and grasped the button that was behind it and slipped it through the hole and pulled the zipper down. He sprung free from his prison and slapped his stomach with a snap.

You gulped hard, this was the first time you had ever seen a man in this way. You had seen one once before when a Gryffindor boy got a little too drunk at a party and thought it would be a good idea to whip it out as a laugh but it was nothing like this. Snape's cock was powerful and hot with desire, just as dominating as the man it was attached to. You could feel the slickness building between your legs as you looked up to him practically drunk.

“You look so beautiful down on your knees for me I wish you could see just how beautiful you look, all flushed and doe eyed looking up at me.” His words poured over you like honey. You craved his praise and you’d do anything he wanted to get it.

“Thank you professor! I… I’d do anything for you!” You cried out to him bouncing on your knees. You were passed the embarrassment, hell the embarrassment was fueling you. You didn’t care what you looked like, you just wanted to do whatever he wanted, that's all you’ve ever wanted to do for him.

“Oh I know I’ve heard you so many times lost in thought wondering how I looked under my robes,” his hand began to work the many buttons of his coat and he slipped it off onto the floor with yours. His white linen shirt flowed free around him as he worked up that as well. Soon his torso was bare and you eyed the pale skin that hid under it. You could see his scars that scattered around his smooth form and wondered how they felt.

He reached down, holding out a hand to yours. With a slight hesitation you placed them in his and he placed your hands on his stomach. Your fingers began to wonder, exploding the milky smooth skin you had dreamed about. A soft moan escaped him as your warm touch moved around his cold body. You couldn’t help but look up at him in amazement.

“Gods you’re just so pretty.” He said looking down at you with hooded eyes. You just couldn’t take it any more. You needed to touch his cock that had been staring you in the face far too long. You moved your hands down past his belly button following his little happy trail down to the base. Looking up to him one last time for permission, he nodded a gentle yes.

Grabbing the base, he was rock solid in your grasp. A huff escaped him and he slightly pumped into your hand. This sent your body into overdrive losing all sense of your humanity; you were just his slave to his desire. You worked your hand up and down his shaft not even able to touch your fingertips together as you pumped him slowly.

He reached out a hand and placed it on the top of your head and looped some hair around his fingers and pulled your face close to him. He smelt a mix of smoky body wash and sweat. He filled your nose with his scent and it made your eyes roll in the back of your head as you sniffed him in.

“Open that pretty little mouth of yours I can’t take this anymore.” He growled in pure need. Without hesitation you opened yourself for him and his tip was past your threshold before you had time to process. The precum that had began to gather on his tip spread across your tongue as he snaked himself into you. You couldn’t help but moan as your senses were attacked with him.

“Fuck your sweet little mouth feels better than I could have imagined.” He spit out. Your arms wrapped themselves around his thick thighs for support as he filled your mouth with his needy cock.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this moment. Fuck…. Take my cock. Just like that, you're such a good bunny for me.” You practically cried out in pleasure to the praise and the vibration only sent him into a craze. He began to frantically assault your throat, making you gag around him. The room filled with the sounds of your complete surrender to the man that now laid claim in your throat.

Tears filled your eyes and fell over your flushed cheeks, he reached a hand down and his fingers moved gently over them wiping away at your tear stained face. He pulled them to his mouth and took a long lick of his fingers, humming as he did so. You were practically crossed eyed looking up at him.

He pumped himself in you a few more times and released your mouth with a loud pop. You coughed out desperately for air but were sad that he had released your throat.

“As much as I’d love to cum down that pretty throat of yours it would be such a waste to put it there our first time.” “First time?” You thought. That implied this wasn’t going to be some one time event that you would think about over and over for the rest of your life on a loop.

“Oh you sweet little thing. You think I’d let you get away from me that easily? I’ve waited so long fighting with myself for a very long time. There is no way I’m letting you escape me.” His voice deep and raspy you trembled below him. Grabbing the collar of your shirt he pulled you back to your feet and placed his hands firmly around your waist and lifted you to sit upon the counter. You were practically face to face now, though he still had a bit of height on you even at this level.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and he pulled you back into a deep kiss. You found your arms sneaking in under his shirt and wrapping around his back pulling him close in. This kiss was pure sex and filled with fire. He pressed his body between your legs and his cock rubbed hard against your cotton panties. You could help but moan into his mouth with the sudden sensation shocking your wet core.

His right hand left your face and he made the journey down between your thighs. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your soaking wet pussy made you jump. He pulled away from the kiss and now looked you in your eyes the way you asked his consent with yours earlier. You couldn’t help but look away for a moment embarrassed but you quickly moved your gaze back to him and nodded with the most precious lust filled face.

Before you knew it his slender fingers were hooked into your panties and he slid them all the way down in one large motion. The air was chilled against the sopping wet mess you had under your skirt. He slipped your panties into his back pocket.

“You're never getting those back by the way” he chuckled out. “Now since it’s only fair I think it’s time we take this tight little top off?” He backed away and looked at you. It only took you a moment to understand he wanted to watch you do this part.

Your shaking hands made their way up to the top button and began to slowly slip them out. He hummed in anticipation as you revealed yourself and the pretty baby pink bra you had hidden underneath your shirt. The shirt joined the pile of accumulating clothes on the stone floor below you. His hands reached up and began to wonder around your plush supple skin. His touch made your skin send goosebumps over your body. You let out soft whimpers as his nail softly scraped along your bra's edge.

“Please” you moaned out

“Oh she speaks? Please what my dear?” He says against your neck.

“Please sir, I can’t take it please just touch me!” With your desperate cries he sunk his teeth into your neck kissing and sucking soon to be deep red hickies into your skin. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as he sneaked his hands behind you and made your bra fall to the floor where it belonged. Your breasts were exposed to him and the air and the mix of that made your nipples rock solid. His large hands began to knead into them with vigor and equal desperation. He easily found your nipple with his mouth and sucked and nipped. His deep moans filled the air and mixed with your high pitched squeals.

As his mouth sent attacks to your left breast and his left hand tweaked your right, his free hand found its way to your soaked pussy. It’s like he knew exactly how to curl his fingers around your clit to send shocks through your body. Your hips rolled desperately against his hand to feel him as much as you could.

“If only you could see how desperate and needy you are right now. Humping your dripping little cunt against me. Does your god feel good against your pretty pussy? Hmmm?” His words cut through you like a knife. All you could do is crumble under him in pleas and desperation.

“P…please please please, I need you, please fill me up I can’t take it anymore.” Tears filling your eyes again.

“Well if you beg me so nicely how could I say no to that?” With no warning his cock was pressed against your slit and plunged deep inside you. You cried out in pain as he was still against you.

“Shhh I’m right here I won’t move until you’re ready ok?” He said in between kissing away even more tears on your cheeks.

You were a mess under him but this was the only place in the entire world you wanted to be. For seven years you dreamed about him and wanting him so desperately to fill you up and here you were getting exactly that. You clutched onto his back sending your nails deep into his flesh. He couldn’t help but move forward slightly into you from the sensation. You let out a moan and tightened around him that made him moan into your neck.

“Please move” you breathed out. You didn’t have to ask him twice; his hips moved with a sudden urgency that even shocked him. As if on autopilot he moved in a primal need into your center and filled the room with sounds of him slapping against you. His hands gripped your waist hard, unbeknownst to you both, would leave behind bruises the next day.

His pace was slow at first but over time with the growing moans that escaped your mouth he began to move faster and more erratic.

“Fuck your pussy feels so good around me. Your cunt is sucking me in so eagerly.” He said through gritted teeth. His words made you clench harder around him. “Tell me how does my big cock feel inside you?”

“Hmgmmhh-“ is all your mouth manages to get out between his powerful thrusts. He grabbed the hair in the back of your head, snapping you back to look him deep in his eyes. “What did I tell you about speaking when spoken too? Don’t make me have to punish you when you’ve been so good for me.” He growled down at you.

“You feel so good! Y..you make me feel so full, I’ve n..never felt like this down there before.”

He paused and looked at you, you whined at the sudden stop. “Is this the first time you’ve had someone inside you?” He asked in disbelief. You panicked afraid that he would want to stop with your lack of experience.

“I’m sorry! Is that a problem? I don’t want to disappoint you!” You said, shaken. His eyes widened and immediately placed your face in his hands.

“Oh gods no! I’m just shocked someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you hadn’t had a line of boys trying to take you to bed with them.” A soft smile looked down on you and you nuzzled yourself into his touch.

“I have always just waited in hope that ummm it would be you.” You said looking away.

You could feel him throb in you as that escaped your lips. Without warning his hips snapped in you at a frantic pace once more.

“What a sexy little nymph you are. I am going to truly lose my mind.” He grunted as he pumped you deeper and deeper with each passing thrust. His fingers slipped down and found their way to your clit once again. Your moans filled his ears like prayers. Begging for a release that you were desperately in need of.

“Please sir I-I’m so close.” Your face found its way to his shoulder as you cried out.

“D-does my pretty bunny want to cum for me? Have you been a good girl? Should I allow you to cum all over my big cock?” He asked into your hair.

“God please, please let me cum! I’m begging you please!” You screamed out.

“Fuck, cum on my cock while I fill you deep with mine!” He shouted back at you. He plowed into you at dangerous speeds, hitting your cervix with every lightning crack of his hips. Circling faster around your clit with his thumb. You could feel yourself on the edge so close to your sweet release. With one final snap of his hips you lost all control coming undone around his throbbing cock. Squirting all around him unaware you were even able to do that.

When he felt you release around him that’s all he needed, “Fuck fuck fuck take my cum, fuck!”and shot load after load of his hot cum deep into your pussy. Grunting like an animal as he reached his glorious climax that he has dreamed of for so long.

You both stayed in this wrapped position for what seemed like an eternity panting and gasping for air. When you both found your breath he planted sweet gentle kisses all over you. You giggled with each one he bestowed upon you.

“Gods I’m going to keep you locked down here forever.” He said between kisses.

“You’d have to pull me out of here to get me to leave.” You replied back and planted a gentle kiss on his swollen lips.

“Well that would never happen,” he said looking over you sweetly.“Now let’s get you in my chambers so we can get you right in the bath because you are one dirty bunny.”

“Yeah your dirty little bunny.” You giggled into his ear and with that you were whisked out of the store room and through his chamber door off for more of your wildest dreams to play out before you.

#severus snape #fanfic #pro snape #snape smut #smut #student teacher #god kink?#first time #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape x reader #i lit was kicking my feet giggling making this stoopid thing #i love it tho

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spotlightlowlife · 8 months

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manipulating the audience hazbin a helluva easy feat

I will stop these titles one day

Anyone notice how Lucifer behaved a chauvinistic dude bro when faced with Adam, made worse that he was in the presence of his daughter.

So did Lucifer cheat on Lilith?

Or was this yet another sugar sugardaddy x sugarbaby power x pov exchange only with the inclusion of the most liberal woman ever?

Adam didn't initiate the gotcha girl and gotcha girl again mockery and gave no impression of caring about this, why was this the only thing Lucifer had to rub in his face? Adam would actually go on to open up about his envy of the sinners not appreciating him for being their ancestor.

Lucifer simply thinks sinners suck and agrees to the exterminations happening.

He is welcome to be smug.

This is just fine.

This franchise has a pattern of this, it gives the impression that this is intentional knowing full well that along as the audience backs the right horse, they can do no wrong, insert anything anywhere and loyalty or silence prevails.

We witness Angeldust, after persistently S harrassing Husk opening up about how he isn't as comfortable or confident about the world he's in. We see for ourselves that as sex positive as he tries to portray, he's nowhere near in control.

We then in a later episode witness Sir Pentious get SA as a gag, made worse that he was inebriated but still managed to do nothing but resist. This same episode Angeldust gets a serious scene standing up to his S predator.

Valentino is the prominent sexual predator of these stories, because Angledust is unhappy.

Elsewhere his royal, prehistoric 'good twin', Ozzie the prince of lust isn't to blame for the sexdolls he puts out of his lover Fizzoroli, the prince of greedy who shows no interest in sex outside of adding it to a checklist of things that sell is to blame, we are abruptly told this and guided to accept it because 'cute ship', even though that ship has moved into not so fun sugardaddy x sugarbaby territory, edging towards that of the awkward transactionship of powerful, bored prince Stolas and reluctant, disadvantaged little imp Blitzø, a predatory setup that's ok because both characters get the positive spotlight and Blitzø benefits and doesn't behave like a textbook victim.

Pentious didn't and did...

Stolas backstory is very significant, there is no sex positivity with his character, he was forced into a betrothal when he was a little child, forced into marriage as a teenager and made to have a child. His elders are to be honoured.

Who else found themselves in this exact same situation? Stella. They have an identical backstory.

Notice how, simply by switching some known characters around, Mammon and Fizz's interactions were a diluted spin on Blitzø and Moxxie? Fizz has a whole life away from Mammon, whose pageants chooses to compete in yearly, joint venture merchandise he promotes and phone calls he takes. He has a lover, a palace to roam around in and a day job. Blitzø works full time with Moxxie, breaks into his home, voyers on Moxxie and his wife, follows them on dates and has screwed their mutual ex for that reason.

Both Mammon and Blitzø push Fizz and Moxxie into work when they don't want to, however we have no evidence of Fizz always being reluctant, on the contrary we once saw him look forward to going to pageant rehearsal. Unlike Fizz however, Moxxie has shown open resistance to doing things in the form of crippling fear, reason and angry argument, it all makes no difference. Mammon commented on Fizz appearing to have gained weight however fat jokes aimed at Moxxie have been plentiful, something Blitzø has partook in.

The tone is that Mammon is the villain because Fizz is sad, Fizz who had not been shown to be another Moxxie previously but when it come time for him to be a victim, he was places into a Blitzø Moxxie relationship which this time around wasn't funny.

The tone alternatively is that Blitzø is eccentric, excusable and a fun lead to follow and Moxxie is the punching bag.

Notice how striker is a "supremisist" for wanting to bring down those at the top but it's perfectly ok for Blitzø to kill nobodies like himself.

elsewhere it's ok for Alastor to do the same to those like him with the reluctan support of Charlie who's goal it is to save these people.

Despite there existing an actual cannibal town, pimps and selling of souls being something she is acutely aware of, we are swayed to take Charlie's side as she sits in a position of power with her select besties at her hotel, that may have hard dr ugs on the premises, doing very little outreach even though we see community among extras, who does deals with literal lesser devils, in a world her dad created, her dad who allows exterminators to deal with who he sees as nuisances but she sees as 'family' and there's no conflict of interests, who do we see as the black and white baddies from day one? The angels.

Those who don't even sit at the top or know how things work to be specific.

Not Vaggie though.

Your favs are allowed to be dbags too, it doesn't make you reprehensible to see this and still like them!

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel Adam #helluva boss stella #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel charlie #long post

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elizabethsnuts · 9 months

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Request: winterwidow baby have a daddy-daughter day with her papa🥺, and when they coming home yn js just so excited to tell her mama all the things she did with bucky

Daddy-Daughter Day

Winterwidow x daughter!reader

Summary: Bucky takes his little daughter out on a daddy-daughter day.

———

Bucky woke up to the sound of giggles and the soft padding of little feet. He smiled as he saw his 2-year-old daughter, Y/N, standing at the edge of the bed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Today was their special day - a daddy-daughter day, just the two of them.

After a quick breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup, Bucky bundled you up in a cozy jacket and scarf. He couldn't help but adore how small you looked in your winter attire. Holding your tiny hand in his metal one, you two ventured out into the crisp winter morning.

The first destination: the local ice skating rink. Bucky had secretly been practising his skating skills just for this day. As you arrived, the rink was adorned with twinkling lights, and the air was filled with laughter and the scraping sound of blades against the ice.

Bucky crouched down to your eye level, your wide blue eyes fixed on the glistening ice. "Are you ready to go skating, baby doll?" he asked, earning an enthusiastic nod from you.

“Yes! we go on the ice!” you giggled and held Bucky's hand tighter.

With your skates laced up, Bucky took your hand again and slowly stepped onto the ice. It was your first time, and Bucky was determined to make it memorable. The initial wobbles turned into laughter as Bucky guided you across the ice, your little feet making hesitant but determined strides.

The two of you circled the rink, Bucky spinning you around occasionally, your laughter echoing through the frosty air. The joy on your face was priceless, and Bucky couldn't help but feel a warmth in his heart as you glided together.

"Daddy, this the best day ever!" you exclaimed, your cheeks rosy from both the cold and excitement.

Bucky grinned, ruffling your hair. "Glad you think so, baby doll. But we still have more to do!"

The more skating the two of you did, the more confidence you gained. Bucky skated backward, holding your little hands, and laughed as you twirled together.

As you left the ice with rosy cheeks, Bucky scooped you into his arms and headed away from the ice skating rink to your next destination.

Bucky strolled through the snow-covered streets with your little hand clutching his until a cozy little cafe came into view. The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted you as you entered.

Bucky guided the two of you to a small table by the window, where you could watch the snowflakes gently fall outside. The little cafe was adorned with twinkling lights, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. Bucky helped you out of your winter gear, settling you into a cushioned chair.

"I think it's time for a treat, don't you think, sweetheart?" Bucky grinned, glancing at the menu.

Your eyes widened with anticipation. "Treat, Daddy!"

Bucky chuckled and looked over the menu. "How about a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream for you?" he suggested, pointing to the various options.

Your face lit up. "Yes, please, Daddy!"

Bucky signalled the waiter, placing the order for your special hot chocolate. As they waited, Bucky couldn't help but smile at the joy sparkling in your blue eyes. The cafe's ambience, combined with the lingering excitement from ice skating, made the moment feel magical.

The drinks arrived, and your hot chocolate looked like a work of art, topped with a mountain of marshmallows and a swirl of whipped cream. Bucky smiled as he handed the hot drink to you, you couldn't contain the excitement.

"Daddy, it's so tasty!" you exclaimed, your eyes wide with amazement.

Bucky chuckled. "Well, you deserve nothing but the best, baby doll."

While you happily sipped your hot chocolate giving yourself a little milk moustache, Bucky enjoyed the rich aroma of his coffee. You chatted about your favourite moments on the ice, your favourite animal, and what you saw on your daily walks with Natasha. Bucky listened attentively, savouring the simple joy of these father-daughter conversations.

As drinks were finished, Bucky glanced at the clock. "Well, baby doll, it's time to head home. But we'll have more special days like this, I promise."

You nodded, your eyes filled with contentment. Bucky paid the bill and helped you back into your winter gear. The two of you left the cafe hand in hand, the warmth of your hot drinks lingering as you both stepped back into the chilly air outside.

As Bucky and you returned to the compound, the snowfall had intensified outside, a white blanket of snow coated the outside. Bucky marvelled at the beauty, holding your hand tightly. The warmth of the cafe lingered as you stepped inside, greeted by the familiar surroundings of your home.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get you out of those snowy clothes," Bucky said, guiding you towards the living area. You excitedly kicked off your pink boots and wriggled out of your winter coat, your face still flushed with the remnants of the day's adventures.

Once comfortably settled back into warm clothes, you couldn't contain your excitement. "Daddy, I wanna tell Mama about our day!"

Bucky chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Sounds like a plan. Let's find Mama."

The both of you made your way to the communal area where Natasha was engrossed in a book. Hearing the footsteps, she looked up, a warm smile playing on her lips.

"Well, look who's back! How was your day, you two?" Natasha asked.

You practically bounced on your toes, eager to share. "Mama, Daddy and I go ice skating! And then we went to a cafe, and I had hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream!"

Natasha's eyes met Bucky's, and she raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Sounds like quite the adventure, the two of you had."

Natasha chuckled, closing her book. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe next time I'll join you for some ice skating. But for now, how about we get ready for dinner?"

As they headed to the dining area, you couldn't stop talking about every detail of the day, from the first step on the ice to the last sip of your hot chocolate.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #buckynat #daughter!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #winterwidow #winterwidow x daughter!reader #buckynat x daughter!reader

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rahuratna · 3 months

Text

He's got the look

Part 1: Hitting like a Hammer

Content: crack, humour, fluff. Gojo being ... Gojo.

Satoru yawned as he bent at the waist, the top of his head coming into view in the bathroom mirror. He had always been one of those people. The ones who could wake up every morning, looking what some would call 'deliciously disshevelled'. Stray strands of silver fell forward softly over his forehead, the pure, crystalline eyes blinking slowly as he took himself in.

Satoru was fully aware of how attractive he appeared to others, physically speaking. While he didn't place much store by it, he did like looking his best, even if it was largely concealed under the blindfold. Eyes roving over the rippling muscle of his torso with a kind of satisfied disinterest, he sighed and was about to reach for his toothbrush, when something on his head caught his attention.

Were those ... split ends? And why was his hair looking distinctly duller in hue than normal? Considering his cursed technique, Satoru was seldom affected by environmental conditions. Winter was coming? No problem. It was particularly humid out that day? He'd still stroll along, unaffected, while people wilted around him like soggy paper towels. It was raining? Hello, built-in umbrella.

So, if there was an issue with his hair, it must be internal. Was he not getting enough of the necessary vitamins in his diet? Was all the sugar finally catching up with him? Unthinkable.

Still, something had to be done.

Contrary to how things seemed to others, Satoru worked exceptionally hard in his role as a sorcerer. Difficult missions didn't take quite so much time and effort when you were the self-proclaimed strongest. Thus, there was not much time to spoil himself.

Today, however, was a very rare, relaxed Sunday. He'd have to take action. There was only one person he trusted with his hair. Retrieving his phone from the counter, Gojo typed in a quick message and hummed slightly, applying moisturizer to his face as he waited for a reply.

"How? How can this be?"

"Er ... Gojo-sensei?"

"Yuuji! This is a disaster!"

"Whoa, whoa. What is?"

"My hair stylist! He's injured his back and won't be back for six whole months. What will I do? How will I survive? Am I supposed to rid the world of curses while my hair looks like this?"

"Uh ... yeah?"

"Wrong answer!"

Yuuji raised his hands, laughing slightly at the stricken expression of his teacher.

"Okay, okay. Hey, here's an idea. You know who has really nice hair?"

"Who?"

"Nanamin! His hair is always nicely cut and ... shiny? Maybe ask him who he goes to."

Satoru huffed.

"If I wanted a seven three parting and a cut so severe I'd look like I was about to serve fifteen years in the gulags, I'd go see his barber."

In his apartment in the city, relaxing in the living room with a cup of coffee in hand, Nanami sneezed violently. Unaware of this distant repercussion, Satoru was tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"There is a replacement in for my stylist, though. They said he was young, but talented."

"Oh? Why don't we go check it out then? If your previous stylist trusted him enough to take over, then he must be good, right? We can see him in action and you can decide if you trust him enough to do your hair!"

"Hmm. All right. I'll go for it, Yuuji!"

Now in a decidedly better mood, Satoru mimed finger guns at his student.

"Let's hoof it."

The hair studio was located in Harajuku, a twenty minute walk from where they exited the subway. The trendy boutiques that lined the street caught Yuuji's eye, and he knew that Nobara would have loved to have come here.

When they reached the studio, both teacher and student paused, taking in the shop front.

"Uhhh, was that always ... "

"Nope. This is new."

" ... Gojo-sensei, maybe we should just call Nanamin and - "

"Now, now, Yuuji. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Something Nanami has probably never said in his life."

"Hey! That's not very -"

Somewhere, in a neat cafe, Nanami burnt his tongue on his third cup of coffee for the day and uttered a soft 'fuck', before looking around to see if anyone had heard him.

Before Yuuji had a chance to defend the honour of his other mentor, Gojo had pushed open the door to the salon, whistling merrily. Pausing outside, Yuuji swallowed as a sensation of impending doom threatened to overtake him.

The facade that had been erected over the entryway was of a large and garish tornado, shaped into a classic pompadour, neon geometric shapes superimposed over it in what was clearly meant to be 'arty'. It reminded Yuuji of the anime he had been following religiously as a kid, Bobo's Bazaar Adventure. While he loved the show, he wasn't sure how effective it was in inspiring confidence as a hair studio. Shrugging slightly, he followed Gojo.

The interior was no less psychedelic. Assistants wearing bright pink rollerblades, clip-on angel wings and yellow overalls flew here and there, sweeping up fallen hair and delivering hot drinks while barely avoiding calamity. Hair stylists in chequered aprons snipped away at a frenetic pace, creating some of the most avant garde hairstyles Yuuji had ever seen. His eye was caught by a young woman with a purple up-do being shaped into a top hat and nearly collided with Gojo.

The moment Gojo entered, all eyes were drawn to him, of course. Today, the special grade sorcerer was wearing casual clothes, a dark jacket over a white t-shirt that clung to his very toned abdomen, fitted jeans in black that made his legs look like they'd been airbrushed in real life, and a pair of horrifically expensive sneakers. Gojo cheerfully saluted, tapping the side of his sunglasses that had probably cost more than Yuuji's entire education.

"Yo! I'm Gojo, Maurice's usual customer. I was told to come in today to see Hattori?"

The new receptionist dragged her eyes away from Gojo's pectorals with an audible gulp and hurriedly turned to her computer, her fingernails clacking swiftly over the keys as a burning crimson blush arced over her nose.

"J - Just a moment, sir. Er, ah, yes. Gojo Satoru, correct?"

"That's me!"

"He'll be right with you. Let me call him. I think he's just finished with a client."

Gojo surveyed the studio with interest from behind his shades.

"So he doesn't work out here on the floor?"

"Oh, no. He has a private room upstairs where his personal clients see him. Give me a moment."

She lifted a hot pink receiver and spoke in hushed tones into it. After a few minutes of waiting, she waved to the stairway behind her.

"Go on up. He's ready for you."

The room they entered was obviously supposed to be some sort of den of intense creativity. The matte grey walls were covered with modern art pieces in neon shades, humanoid figures distinguishable in the sinuous, branching tracks of colour. A giant window, forming a one-way looking glass, took up most of the outer wall, showcasing a stunning vista of the city below.

A single styling station, the mirror, chair and stands for various paraphernalia, stood alone and stark in the centre of the room, surrounded by the large fanning leaves of tropical plants. Flowers that Yuuji had never seen before provided bursts of colour where they hung from the ceiling in coconut mesh.

There was a woman, presumably the previous client, who was sitting before the mirror. Yuuji stared. Her hair was coiffed and curled in some kind of artistic representation of a rose, the layers tinted in colours ranging from dark crimson to the finest blush of the sky at dawn, creating a depth and dimensionality that anyone would be hard put to find in a painting, let alone on someone's hair.

The man standing behind her flitted about like a hummingbird at a flower, his slightly high-pitched voice rising and falling as he spoke a litany of encouragement to himself. Upon their entry, he hadn't even turned his head.

Gojo seemed content to stand and wait, so Yuuji cleared his throat slightly. Immediately, the stylist (who must be Hattori) froze and turned, a slightly crazed expression on his narrow, pinched features. Yuuji recoiled, but when Hattori's eyes moved across to Gojo, the change in the atmosphere of the room was palpable.

The stylist threw his scissors to one side, eyes opening wide, expression even more manic than before. The client who had been seated before him had to duck as the blades passed dangerously close to her face. Coming forward in a zig zag, as if pausing at different angles to take in Gojo completely, the man approached.

Close up, Yuuji could see that he didn't look in the best of health. His skin was dry and his lips cracked, the lines standing out at the corners of his eyes, even though he probably wasn't more than a few years older than Gojo. His bleached blonde hair bore the brittle look of many dye-jobs, and his fingernails were stained. He bore a striking contrast to the image projected in the rest of the studio.

Nevertheless, he was looking at Gojo like he was the Mona Lisa come to life. The lady seated at the mirror cleared her throat.

"Thank you Hattori, I'm - "

"Yes, yes, you're done now."

"Well, I just - "

"Speak to the front desk for the care routine." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand that left her gaping. "Now, who, who, who do we have here?"

"Gojo Satoru. I hear you've taken over from Maurice. I was a client of his for many years."

"Ahhh. Maurice, my dear mentor. Such a tragedy about his back injury. Can't even stay upright for longer than five minutes. Now, on to more important things, namely, you."

Hattori had now sidled right up to Gojo, his manic expression never toning down in intensity. The sorcerer in turn, regarded him with his usual good natured condescension. The woman with rose-like hair was now scurrying out of the room, scandalized. Yuuji watched her leave nervously. He didn't like being in this room. Everything just seemed weird and wrong.

"But ... I have to say... Maurice certainly kept you a closely guarded secret. Gojo, you say? No. No, I've never heard him speak that name. But look at you! You're... just ... a ... I have no words. Look at this shade of hair! Look at your jawline! Your facial structure! Superb. Superb. A true muse. Yes. A ... oh, this is .... wait. I must ... inspiration has struck!"

Scurrying over to the styling stand, Hattori withdrew a notebook and pencil from the drawer, flipping open the book and beginning to sketch as if his life depended on it, his hair standing slightly on end, as if it had a consciousness of its own. Gojo raised his hand.

"Can't I just request my usual? Maurice always - "

"Usual? Usual?"

Hattori almost dropped the book in his hand.

"Dearest Gojo, please, never, never use the word 'usual' to refer to anything regarding yourself again!"

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and grinned.

"I mean, yeah, I know I'm exceptional, but - "

"Not just exceptional!" There were tiny, red capillaries standing out in the whites of Hattori's eyes now. Yuuji crept a little closer to Gojo.

"No, exceptional is too bland a word. I can't believe that Maurice kept you from me."

Yuuji could think of several reasons.

"Now let's see. Yes, yes, that would be - come and have a seat! I'll get started!"

"But I haven't told you - "

"Forget everything you know! I am Hattori, and I am inspired by a muse above all others ... you! Gojo Satoru! I will do with your hair what nobody has ever attempted before!"

Yuuji cleared his throat, speaking loud enough for only Gojo to hear.

"Uh, sensei ... "

"I know. Relax, Yuuji. I'll handle this."

Gojo pulled out his phone and typed a quick message, before sauntering over to the styling station.

"All right then, Hattori. I place myself in your capable hands."

Hattori chose, at that moment, to finally glance over in Yuuji's direction. He froze, eyes opening to dimensions that defied the basics of human anatomy.

"Wait. What ... what is that?"

Gojo looked over, confused.

"Oh, that's my student. Itadori - "

"No! That! The colour!"

Hattori was positively shrieking by now, and Yuuji laughed nervously, backing away.

"Uh, are you talking about my hair colour?"

"Yes! What kind of... of ... monstrosity is this? Salmon pink? In that single shade? No highlights? What were you thinking, boy?"

"What do you mean? This is my natural colour?"

Hattori laughed, tears of rather demented mirth gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Natural? What are you? Some kind of anime character?"

Gojo sighed.

"Oi, oi, oi. I'll trouble you not to pick on my precious student. What's he got to do with my hair anyway? Isn't that what we're here for?"

"He needs to go! He's going to taint the whole process with his presence!"

Gojo's cheerful demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. His smile disappeared and in its place was a kind of terrifying calm that made the room grow slightly colder. Hattori looked over at him and quailed.

"Uh, but if, as you say, he is your student, then I can ... make an exception for a favoured client such as yourself."

As the stylist scurried over to Gojo, Yuuji let out a soft breath as he mentally confirmed his suspicions. Unlike a regular person, Hattori had only reacted to Gojo's ire when there had been a change in his cursed energy signature. Hattori was certainly aware that Gojo was a sorcerer. And the hair stylist himself... was not all he seemed on the surface.

Certainly, there was no immediate danger to someone as powerful as Gojo. But Hattori looked unhinged enough to try almost anything. Yuuji kept his eyes on the erratic movements of the man as he darted here and there around Gojo, hands reaching out like the darting tendrils of a sea anemone as he touched and caressed Gojo's hair.

Creepy.

But Yuuji would have his sensei's back, even if his own strength was not needed.

As if sensing his serious mood, Gojo glanced over at him while Hattori whipped out a black bib and tied it around the sorcerer's neck with a flourish.

"Hey Yuuji, why the long face? I guess I'll have an exciting style soon. Something Nanami's never had in his life."

"Oh come on, sensei, you don't know that."

"I do. He was my underclassmen, remember?"

"Well ... what if he had something exciting while he was a salaryman?"

There was silence in the room for a while. Yuuji sighed.

"Okay. You win this one."

Nanami kept his eyes on the woman with rose-coloured hair, following her from a discreet distance. His plain jeans and sweater were helping him blend seamlessly into the crowd, along with the newspaper clutched in his hand and the fifth cup of coffee for the day. He really needed to cut back.

He was a little grumpy, to be honest. Here he was, enjoying his peaceful day at a cafe, when Gojo had messaged, asking him to investigate possible curse activity related to a woman with distinct rose-styled hair, somewhere near a salon in Harajuku. Nanami had hurried to the predicted co-ordinates and managed to spot the woman in question right before she boarded the subway.

It wasn't hard to determine who Gojo had been talking about. Besides the ... really spectacular hairstyle she sported, there was a horrific amount of cursed energy whirling about her frame, concentrated around her hair.

Nanami suddenly felt that same unbearable itch in his nose from earlier in the day and sneezed heavily, whipping out his handkerchief.

Why did this keep happening? Was he coming down with something?

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Nurse Y/n

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Doctor Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Nurse Y/n Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1413

I finished up work with a patient on the ward and I noticed Captain Gains arrived at the door, I tried not to let panic rise to my face given Fagin was upstairs in my room counting out the score from our last venture. But I did my best to merely act normal as he came through with his usual sit, cane and chipper smile.

"Mr Dawkins," he said,

"Doctor Dawkins," I corrected,

"A quiet word?"

"Trouble with the prostate?" I joked,

"If you could be so kind doctor," He glared,

"Yes course," I nodded,

He led me to the stock room where he sat his book and pen, "Do sit down, doctor."

I sat down trying not to look sheepish, and the more I did the more I wondered if it was actually possible. Silence sat between us for a moment and I felt as If I wanted to break it, "What uhh... what is this concerning?"

He didn't answer at first taking the time to fully extend his tongue from his mouth and lick the tip of his pen before he began his notes. "Nothing to worry about Doctor Dawkins, just a formality during our investigation,"

"What investigation?" I asked,

"I am sure you have heard about these... dreadful atrocities in port victory."

I relaxed a little, "Yes, of course. Been the talk of the town," I nodded, "Wretched, horrendous, accidents."

"Apparently not." he said, "After much investigation, we have determined these... atrocities were not accidents,"

"Not- not accidents?"

"No, we have determined in our investigation... that these were not accidents,"

"Ohh goodness..."

"And we have determined they are likely the work... of a serial killer."

"oh... I see..." I nodded, "What... does that have to do with... our conversation today?"

"It is very obvious the body's damage was caused by someone with... medical knowledge."

"Are you implying-"

"I am not implying anything doctor Dawkins," he said, "Merely asking questions,"

"Yes.. of course,"

"You wouldn't happen to have noticed any medical equipment going missing of late?"

"No, no, nothing of note."

"I see... you and Doctor Sneed are our two residents? there isn't another doctor lingering about?"

"No, Myself, Doctor Sneed and Prof. That's all," I explained,

"I see," He made a note, "Have you noticed any other changes in staff?"

"Ohh uhhh a couple of nurses retired last month and we brought in replacements,"

"Well, nothing to worry about there then. Would you be able to tell me where you were on the evening of the 17th?"

"Here." I answered, "Caring for my patients," I lied even though I was defiantly not here, I think on the 17th I was either down the cat and bagpipes stealing Darius' watch or possibly across town stealing Mrs Asterlynn's diamond necklace,

"Yes... and various nurses and patients could collaborate on that,"

"Uhhh..." I scrambled, "Unfortunately the patients from then have all passed on,"

"Pity, your nurses then?" he asked, "I'm sure one of your nurses would be able to confirm your presence that evening,"

"Hetty, my head nurse would yes." I nodded hoping to god he wouldn't call my bluff because she was currently mad at me and I got the feeling she was at the right level of throwing me under the carriage mad,

"I see... you're head nurse," He chuckled, "any others know you were here?"

"...ughhh... Yes." I lied, "The uhhh the new nurse." I said, as it suddenly hit me that the new nurse who works down in the morgue with Tim, the little one, always has pigtails, she had a day off on the 17th so she wouldn't know I wasn't here, "yes, the new nurse, she was at my side helping me all night, I was showing her the hospital and such,"

"I see, you don't mind I ask her of course. For the records."

"...No, no of course not," I lied,

"Good take me to her then," He said as he got up,

I nodded and led him down the corridor trying to think of what the hell I was gonna do, why did I say that, why didn't I have a plan, what nurse could stand me enough not to get me hung, I couldn't ask hetty she's mad, and I already called her my head nurse so he's met her before... I saw the new nurse, the one who had the day so coming up from the morgue in her usual nurse's dress, with her hair in sweet pigtail braids, well I hope to god she plays along. "Nurse," I spoke up as I don't know her name yet...

She stopped and seemed puzzled as to why I was talking to her, "Yes Doctor Dawkins?"

"Captain Gaines just wanted a word with you," I said, "About the 17th, when we were working... on the ward... together... all night..."

She looked at Captain Gaines and then at me for a second seeming confused, "I'm sorry the 17th?"

"Yes, you know nurse when you and I were working on the ward together all night, and I showed you around, we cared for patients, did some paperwork..." I lied giving her a rather pleading look almost begging her to play along,

"Oh, yes the 17th. of course." She nodded and I relaxed, "Yes of course what did you wish to ask me about Captain?"

"You can confirm Doctor Dawkins was here in the hospital that night?"

She glanced at me and we shared a look, "Yes I can,"

"Really?"

"Yes Captain I swear on my life," she said putting her hand to her chest, "Doctor Dawkins was ever so kind to me, I only just started and he took the time that evening to give me a tour and run me through some procedures. Letting me shadow him for the evening,"

"And he didn't leave your sight all evening?"

"No Captain, we worked on the patients together until dawn," She smiled,

"Yes we did, yes... never left my sight did you?" I asked,

"No, absolutely not," She smiled,

"And would there be other nurses that could confirm this?" He asked,

Ohh shit- "Ughhh well..."

"Well unfortunately," she said, "Most of our lovely nurses had already taken to bed given such a busy day, the few who were still working, I am sorry Captain but we were so busy popping around the hospital we don't recall any names of nurses still awake and I doubt they would remember us was given how short a time we were in one place,"

"Right," he made his notes,

Hum... damn she's good, I glanced over at her and she gave me an innocent little smile,

"I see, it's interesting who you two were working all evening, together, and yet not a single other nurse or patient can confirm such information,"

"Well, admittedly a lot of our work was... down in the morgue." I lied,

"Yes, down in the morgue popping up for other business of course," she smiled,

"So you were alone, in the morgue together?" he asked,

"Yes..." I nodded,

"And what work were you doing, exactly? For the records?"

"I believe that is our business Captain," she smiled her hands slipping around my arm,

I looked down at her a little confused about what she was doing but as she laid her head on my shoulder it clicked... oohhh... she's going that angle with it... smart. Certainly explains us being alone together.

"I see. Thank you. Any other questions I'll be sure to ask," He nodded folding up his notebook and heading away,

As soon as he was gone I let out a sigh, "Thank you, nurse,"

"You're welcome," she smiled, "Figured you were in a spot of bother,"

"Yeah think I was for a second..." I sighed,

"What did he want?"

"I think... he thinks I have something to do with the deaths in town,"

"I see... do you?"

"No! Of course not!" I protested, "I was just out doing... other business,"

"Understandable then," she nodded,

"What about you?"

"Humm?"

"You were gone then?"

"I was,"

"Do you... have anything to do with his?"

"Doctor Dawkins how are you insinuating such a thing," she faked protested, "No no, I had... other business too,"

"I see," I nodded, "You uhh you don't have to hold my arm anymore you know,"

"I know," she shrugged, "you're kinda comfy,"

"ohhh ughh thanks," I blushed a little, "you uhhh you're... kinda cute."

"Thank you," she giggled, "Well if you need a cover story again, you know where to find me, Doctor Dawkins," she smiled as she tapped my arm and headed off down the hall,

"Ughh yeah, wait! Ughh what's your name again?"

"Y/n!" She yelled back before turning the corner,

"Hu... Nurse Y/n," I smiled a little before I headed up to my room.

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milky-fixx · 2 years

Text

ornament

chrollo lucilfer x reader // hunter x hunter // fluff // 1.1k+ words

not me forgetting i had a whole christmas fic for this man. oops. a spruced up repost.

Chrollo has a thief's eye. Wherever he looks is calculated, measured—as if he’s mapping out the quickest escape route, or a clever move to gain the upper hand. His gaze is always shrewd, attuned to endless possibilities.

Which is perhaps why he catches your shift in mood so quickly.

The two of you are strolling down the main street. Now that the hustle and bustle of Christmas has ended, and people no longer crowd the streets, you brought up the idea of venturing into the nicer part of town to admire the lavishly decorated streets.

While conversation flows easy between you two, as if often does, your voice dies down once you spot something. Chrollo pauses as well, noticing your attention has been caught by something else: a small, decorative Christmas tree perched in the window of a store, which you stare at with something akin to discontent.

“What’s wrong? Is it not to your liking?”

“Ah.” You're startle; you weren’t expecting him to notice. (How quaint. It's almost as if you don't know him—once he finds something that catches his eye, he wants to study every inch of it.) “I was just thinking. I-It’s nothing.” You wave your hand dismissively. His curiosity piques. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” he says, his voice a saccharine concoction you could spend your entire life indulging in. And you have spent hours getting lost in it, listening to the syllables rolling off his tongue like caramel, sometimes in languages you couldn't hope to understand, yet just as entrancing. You suppose that’s what attracts others to the Phantom Troupe—their leader's subtle yet undeniable charisma, his manner of speaking and carrying himself that entices one's attention long before they realize they've fallen into his web.

Including you.

“People like to... decorate things,” you finally say, working past your trepidation. “They like putting ornaments on trees.”

“Mmhmm."

“Well...” You fiddle with the straps of your bag, needing something to ground yourself. “Ornaments have no practical purpose, though. They’re just there to make things look pretty, right?”

“Hmm, yes. That is their function.” You’ve definitely roused his interest now. He draws closer to your side, his eyes bright with curiosity. The way other people’s minds worked has always amused Chrollo; this isn’t the first intriguing question you’ve asked him. He once told you that’s what drew him to you.

We both have an insatiable curiosity for the secrets of the world, he said.

(You wonder, however, in the back of your mind, if this is a Pandora’s box you should leave closed. To open it might change things irrevocably.)

“It just makes me wonder... if... you know, between us... if I’m just--is that all I am to you?” You release the last few words in a rush, with the air of someone voicing something into existence that not even they want to acknowledge.

And it’s true. You feel ashamed that these worries plague you. Chrollo is polite, pleasant, the picture of a good boyfriend.

But that’s the thing. Perfection is sometimes a curse in itself. He’s too perfect. Uneasily so. Too kind. You can’t help but fiddle with the ribbon neatly binding your relationship, wondering what would happen if you pulled the edges apart. What kind of surprise would you find waiting for you?

“Are you making some strange connection between yourself and a Christmas decoration?” Amusement rings heavy in his tone, and it flusters you further.

You know that he’s a renowned thief. What possible interest does he have in you? What connections could he gleam from you, a mere civilian?

What if you really are just a pretty, silly thing for him to have on his arm? An alibi, a cover-up?

Chrollo, noting your discomfort, breaks the silence.

“Well...” he says, his tone rich with delight. “You’re forgetting something, dear. Ornaments may have no practical purpose, yes, but they add immeasurable value to a tree. Even the smallest ones.”

“You could say the same thing about a blank canvas,” he continues. “It has no value until an artist paints on it. Then it can sell for millions. Or rather, be coveted by just as many.”

You catch his gaze in the mirror, gleaming with intrigue.

“So, while you are pretty...” he says, using your words from earlier, enjoying the way the compliment visibly flusters you. Reaching out, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek. “I would argue that you do have value, if that’s what you’re concerned about."

He’s so smooth. It’s like he knows exactly what to say to ease any worries away, regardless of how silly or foolish you think they are.

Almost like he can read into you too well.

You try and think of a response to him, you really do. Your mouth opens with a retort before closing once you realize its futility. Nothing you say could even think of topping that. It’s like he leaves no room for doubt in any conversation.

“Oh... well. That's... good?" you say lamely, all too aware of just how in-eloquent your response is compared to his.

He takes the hint, sparing you further embarassment.

“I take it you won’t want to bring back a discounted Christmas tree, however?” His tone is conversational. He's always good at turning the tides of conversation his way.

You wrinkle your nose. “No thanks. It’s a lot of work.”

“Yes... I don’t believe any of the Troupe has the patience to decorate it.” He chuckles. “Not entirely practical, either, if we’re using your terms.”

"No. It really isn't."

He tilts his head. "Of course, if you really wanted a tree, I suppose... I have my own pretty thing to decorate with, right here,” he says, squeezing your shoulder, drawing you close to him. You stiffen at the unexpected gesture.

His eyes shine with mirth, a rare, playful side to him. One that only you’ve seen. “Maybe you can be the topping to my tree. You’d probably outshine every other decoration.”

“Chrollo!” you hiss, feeling your face grow hot. You know he’s only doing this because you’re out in public, and he knows very well of your bashfulness with public displays of affection. It’s why he only pulls them out to ruffle you.

“What’s wrong? You wanted me to humor you at first, but now it looks like you can’t wait to get away from me.” He flashes you an innocent, wide-eyed look, one that you know entirely masks his sadistic streak.

He spends the rest of the day making quips about trees, and you being the star of his. Enjoying every second of your chagrin. Eventually, his musings are loud enough to attract the attention of a tree seller, who decides a couple “so young and in love” like the two you of you should get your own tree, free of charge.

“Well now,” Chrollo glances between you and the tree. “I suppose we can make your dreams a reality—”

“Please no.”

The eyes of a thief he may have. But coupled with the mouth and unrelenting wit of a sadist? A deadly combination that only Chrollo Lucilfer could encompass.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hunterxhunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh imagine #chrollo imagine #tati writes

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 year

Note

M4A1, AN-94 and Springfield with a S/O who’s cooking looks absolute dogshit, but tastes like a Michelin chef prepared it?

(GFL) Springfield, M4A1, and AN-94's S/O cooking for them

Looks like it's finally time for ANOTHER T-DOLL FUN FACT!

TDFF 3: Springfield runs a Cafe on-base, and is the best baker/coffee maker of all the T-Dolls under Griffin and Kruger. She also has an adorable apron/alternate hairstyle while working in the Cafe. On that note:

Springfield's typical smile is replaced with an expression of surprise, watching S/O emerge from the kitchen with a sludge on their plate.

She brushes her hair back and adjusts her apron as she sits down, examining the food.

(Springfield) "Oh my..."

As far as her eyes could scan, there was nothing toxic despite the appearance. Thankfully she was not human so it could not possibly kill her. Unfortunately, she still had a sense of taste built into her, to which she decided nothing ventured, nothing gained.

S/O watched with a hint of anticipation. They knew Springfield was quite serious about the food served, and would have nothing less than what her standards for the menu was.

After putting the multi-colored sludge on her spoon and tasting it, her eyes widened.

(Springfield) "...Wow, you did great, S/O!"

(S/O) "R-Really?!"

Her smile returns with gusto, putting both her hands together.

(Springfield) "Yes, and I think we can actually use the appearance to our advantage, it can be a special item! Though that being said, we do have to work on your presentation. It can potentially lead someone away."

(S/O) "Potentially?"

(Springfield) "Hm...Well, I suppose I am being a bit too generous. I think it would make some of the other girls flee in terror..."

But she nodded with a determined fire in her eyes.

(Springfield) "But I know you can do it! My darling will have the best of both worlds in my cafe!"

(M4A1) "...Um, what is this?"

(S/O) "Soup!"

(M4A1) "According to my database, soup should not be green."

(S/O) "Oh, I just wanted it to resemble you!"

M4 stared at the green viscous liquid. It could be mistaken as acid.

With a spoonful in her hand, she reluctantly puts it through her lips and tastes the "soup".

Which to her surprise, tasted fine. In fact, it was more than fine, it was great!

M4 took another spoonful again to make sure she wasn't malfunctioning, and still it was the same.

(M4A1) "This is really good, S/O!"

(S/O) "Oh thank god, I thought you'd hate it..."

(M4A1) "I certainly do not like its look..."

(S/O) "Huh?"

(M4A1) "N-Nothing. Thank you very much for the meal."

Thankfully, S/O did not notice that M4 was staring at them the entire time she was eating, trying to not see the horrific-looking soup and keep it out of mind and simply enjoy the love it was made from.

For better or worse, 94 was very direct, no matter what the subject was.

And upon seeing S/O's food:

(AN-94) "...I do not believe this is thoroughly cooked."

(S/O) "Sandwiches aren't meant to be cooked. Well, not this one anyway."

(AN-94) "This does not fit the traditional appearances of sandwiches according to my data."

Her voice is as cold as her remarks on S/O's food, but she doesn't hesitate to taste it.

At least not before she prepared to send out an emergency distress signal should her systems fail upon consuming the food.

Instead, it was unneeded as the sandwich tasted great!...According to her sensors anyway.

(S/O) "Um...Is it good?"

94 simply nodded as she continued to eat it.

(S/O) "You don't look happy about eating it though."

(AN-94) "...Ah, my apologies. I did not think about displaying that properly, humans typically do that, do they not?"

Her soft smile puts S/O at ease as she tries her best to reassure them her feelings are genuine.

(AN-94) "Despite the concerning appearance of your cooking, it is quite delicious, thank you."

(S/O) "Thanks...I think?"

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline headcanons #girls' frontline x reader #springfield x reader #m4a1 x reader #an 94 x reader #springfield gfl #m4a1 gfl #an 94 gfl

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urlocalhovel · 12 days

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i see a lot of posts about poverty on this site and they always pertain to injustices, stats, laws and like... i always catch myself wondering, are the people posting these just good people wanting change, or have they been through it themselves?

then i wonder where all the personal stories are apart from the mix of statistics... are people who have truly suffered poverty just not on here...???

i want to swap horror stories/heartwarming ones, see other people's experiences that are similar to my own-

i wanna connect on the feeling of hunger, talk about how that first taste of food zaps your tongue after days of not being able to eat...

wanna hear the warm memories amongst the struggle- for example, my mother wrapping me & my baby siblings in thick blankets on our living room floor so all she could see was our eyes peeking out above our tall, cone-shaped nests and treating it as a game, though she was just making sure we survived another night without heat while going through yet another brutal winter atop our barren mountain...

though i wanna connect on all the battle stories of what it was like to grow up/be in poverty, i really wanna see people talk about what strength, happiness and morals can come out of such despair:

you get used to having nothing and are able to get by, when normal people would have a literal mental breakdown over such things

you take joy in the littlest of things, appreciate so many things people take for granted

you gain a concrete kindness, a deep type of empathy for others you see even having a flicker of the struggle you did/are

you end up informing people of the stats and information that the posts i mentioned above include, advocate for the people less fortunate

i moved away into a wealthy Canadian city where you don't easily see poverty/interact with people going through it unless you venture into very specific pockets of the city and i kinda miss interacting with others that are of my kind- i'll never forget someone sheepishly telling me about how a bottle depot works and realizing that im assumed to be part of the people who have never experienced what its like to rely on such a thing to make the rent and get a day's meal...

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yakuzacanons · 7 months

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Seong-hui content,, please,, I'm so very gay when it comes to her it's not even funny

YESSS omg I loved her in Infinite Wealth, she is so cool. I cannot tell if I would have a crush on her or if I just wanna be her bestie lol. Anyways here ya go anon sweetie boo mwah.

Has high standards. Not unreasonable but it takes more than gifts or sweet words to leave an impression on her. Not that she wouldn't accept free stuff though...

If you have a crush on her, she probably knows it already if she's being really honest. Having said that, if she is crushing on someone she will totally try to use her resources to learn more about you... she'll try to resist the urge whenever possible though.

Only person she ever really shares her feelings with is Joon-Gi, who she views as almost a younger brother figure. Asks things in hypotheticals, like if she hypothetically wanted to give someone a gift, what would HE do...

Naturally, since Joon-Gi is kind of unusual and inexperienced, his answers are always either not what Seonhee expects or just plain weird. But if she's into you, you can expect that Joon-Gi's already heard about you for sure!

Dodges the idea of a relationship initially because she's unsure if she can commit the time and effort to it. She'll at least give a first date a good shot in earnest; nothing ventured, nothing gained is how she feels about it. Plus, dating experience, even if it doesn't lead to something, is useful in its own right.

Has been confessed to many times so don't be shocked if her reaction isn't over the top. It might sound like rejection but she'll actually say "Thank you." first before giving you her response. She's just polite like that.

She's super blunt so she'd just be like "A date? Sure." with little to no fluff. Her confessing would be just like that too. When it comes to an actual first date, she isn't picky! As long as you guys stop for food at some point...

Work is super important to Seonhee so she needs a partner that wouldn't want to tear her away from her job and can understand why it's important to her. Also, it is preferred if her partner can get along with Joon-Gi.

Seonhee always has her phone on her and often has to answer important calls at all times of the day so please forgive her if she has to step out during dinner for a brief call or if her phone rings in the middle of the night. She isn't ignoring you, I promise.

In the bedroom, Seonhee is almost exclusively a top. Has quite a bit of dom energy too but it isn't intentional, which is quite funny. No kinks that she knows of; probably wouldn't explore it unless it's something you also want to do.

#majima megaphone moment #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza headcanons #yakuza imagines #ryu ga gotoku headcanons #ryu ga gotoku imagines #seonhee #seong hui #yakuza like a dragon #like a dragon #like a dragon infinite wealth

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oftenwantedafton · 10 months

Text

Craving - Vampire Dave Miller/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Urban Explorer Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Mature

Warnings for violence, blood and mild gore

Also available on AO3

taglist @yellowbunnydreams

The healing punctures on your wrist itch, reminding you of your promise to return.

It’s pouring the day you finally gather enough courage to venture back into the abandoned shopping mall, the rain soaking you before you’ve managed to sneak back in through the loose boards covering a vacant department store window, the glass panes and clothing display long gone, leaving only a headless mannequin.

You’re better prepared this time, carrying a backpack with a flashlight and extra batteries, bandaids, a snack and a couple of bottles of water, a cd player and headphones when the darkness and quiet become too much to bear. You’re not sure how long you’ll have to stay this time. You wonder what will happen if he can’t stop himself and keeps sucking the lifeforce from you until you’re nothing left but a withered husk, doomed to spend eternity with the vampiric creature.

The rain drums loudly on the skylights above, an arc of lightning briefly illuminating a section of empty kiosks and a dry fountain. You adjust the straps of your backpack, settling it more squarely on your shoulders before continuing on. Your entire arm aches now, and you feel yourself pulled back towards the entrance to the pizzeria like a magnet drawing iron. Your footsteps slow as you finally gain sight of the restaurant.

The power has been restored.

Neon lights guide you forward until your foot finds broken glass, bringing you to a halt, your bag sliding to the floor from nerveless fingers.

The front doors are shattered.

Shards of glass litter the entryway, refracting colored light like pieces from a smashed kaleidoscope. Chairs are scattered around the dining room. The row of pinball machines and the prize counter has been decimated, adding to the piles of glass. Change machines are gutted, spilling their metal contents onto the floor. Some of the orbs from the ball pit have escaped their divoted enclosure, rolling until they’re forced to a stop by a piece of furniture or fragment of destruction.

Then there is the dark smear that leads from the frenzy up to the center stage.

The curtains have been pulled wide open, parting in a grim smile to reveal the animatronics, blood staining teeth and paws. There are pieces of something, you refuse to think of what else it might be, lying in saturated piles at their feet.

“Admiring your handiwork?”

The yellow rabbit’s voice startles you.

“I don't understand. What happened?” you whisper in horror.

“You led them here.”

“Who?”

The costumed figure strides forward, the tall, imposing frame making short work of the distance from the hallway to the dining room. His metal fingers close around your throat as he simultaneously lifts and thrusts you against the side of a nearby crane machine, where your shoulders strike the glass encasement, the jumble of soft plush prizes inside rocking with the movement.

“Some scum that thought they were going to rob me. They followed you. You showed them how to get inside.”

He squeezes and you strain to draw breath to speak. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” you gasp.

“I’m not interested in your apologies.” He releases your throat and you collapse to the floor, panting, desperate for lungfuls of the stale air. “You’re going to clean this mess up,” he sneers with contempt.

“Where are…the people…that broke in?” You struggle to speak, massaging bruised vocal cords.

“I let the children play with them. Their blood was too tainted by years of drug use for my taste.”

“The children?” You follow his pointing finger to the stage. “You mean the animatronics? They’re…alive? Like you?”

“No. Nothing like me. They’ve been dead for a long time. Only their spirits remain now, sleeping until I decide to wake them.” He pauses, looking down at your collapsed figure. “You can find what you need in the custodial closet.”

You look at the dark stains again and the severed pieces of what had once been human beings and a wave of nausea rolls though you. You never wanted to bring anyone here. Criminal or not, it made no difference; people were dead now because of you.

“I didn’t want this,” you murmur out loud.

“Then you had better make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The rabbit turns away, leaving you to retrieve a mop and broom and trash bins. You certainly can’t be expected to lift the heavy machines that have been displaced, but you do your best to right the scattered pieces of furniture and collect what seems like an endless pile of debris.

You save the stage for last, climbing up onto the wooden platform and eyeing the mechanical trio warily. The dark lumps of flesh turn your stomach once again and you dry heave, turning away. “I can’t do it. I can’t touch…that.”

“Enough. Come here.” The rabbit seems satisfied with your penance.

You obey, sliding down from the raised platform. You feel absolutely disgusting, your damp clothing now caked in dust and blood. You’re surprised when he guides you towards the restroom, bidding you to get cleaned up. The water runs discolored from the tap, contaminated by corroding pipes long neglected before shifting back to something resembling a clear fluid. You scrub your stained clothes then your hands and forearms, rubbing until the skin is red and raw, the scars throbbing. You want to erase it, want every trace of this evil place off of you. You’re openly weeping, a cascade of tears that you fear will never end. You shove at the faucet to turn it off and grab at the paper towel dispenser, finding it empty.

Sliding down the wall, you bring your knees up to your chest and bury your face, sobbing.

***

The restroom door creaks open, revealing the yellow rabbit.

He’s so tall he has to duck to enter the white tiled space, the tip of his undamaged ear brushing the frame.

He offers you a hand and you sniffle, dragging your sleeve over your face before you accept, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“You're soaked,” he observes, his voice quiet as he leads you back into the hallway.

“It’s pouring outside. And you’re out of paper towels,” you grumble. You don’t want to make small talk. You just want this nightmare to end.

“You didn’t think to bring a change of clothes in that bag of yours?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“That’s a shame,” the rabbit murmurs, his voice devoid of any sincere sympathy. “There might be something in one of the employee lockers to dry off with.”

You don’t trust the suited figure’s sudden generosity. “Can we just get this over with?”

He halts, tugging until you’ve been brought flush with the bulky rounded chest piece, the tattered purple bow brushing your cheek.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here. You don’t dictate what happens,” he growls, metal digits tightening on your scarred appendage. The ceiling lights flicker, the fluorescent tubes sizzling and snapping in their mounted casings, threatening to extinguish once again.

“You’re injured.” The realization strikes you suddenly as he pushes you against the wall, the raised arm now revealing a fresh gash leaking not wires and metal, but blood.

“I’ve dealt with much worse,” he says dismissively.

So the burglars had caused this, then. Not directly through force against the costumed figure, but by vandalizing the property. They truly were bound together.

And now you are a part of it too; a contract inked in your own blood.

The rabbit looks down at you with his cold, expressionless eyes, and you wonder about the visage behind that mask. What does he look like, this man that has been imprisoned inside of the costume for so long, until it seems the two have coalesced into one?

“You’re hungry,” you say, hearing it in the restless rustle of the body occupying the suit, as if it is struggling to break free of its encasement.

“Yes.”

“I’m ready.” You’re not, you never will be, but you have no choice and you’d just as soon let him feed to stifle the building dread and fear.

The suited figure’s breath quickens in anticipation as it pulls your forearm towards the opening of the costume’s headpiece, drinking in that trepidation, exhalting in its dominion over you. Your pulse fires more rapidly in response to the adrenaline secreted into your bloodstream. Your mind screams at you to run but your body surrenders willingly, your arm limp in the yellow rabbit’s grasp.

His lips graze your damaged wrist and it feels alarmingly good, your mouth parting in surprise. Fangs reopen the skin and you gasp at the sensation. He suckles at the injury he’s inflicted and the familiar lightheaded feeling returns. A hand braces the back of your neck, supporting you to remain upright. The pain blurs into pleasure and you moan softly, squirming in his grasp, your body further betraying you by attempting to press you closer to your attacker. He echoes the sound, the vibration dancing along your skin and you see spots dancing in front of your eyes. He’s taking too much, he can’t stop…

His mouth abandons your flesh abruptly. “Enough!” One palm clamps over the wounds, exerting pressure to slow the flow of blood, his breathing harsh as air saws in and out of encased lungs. You can feel his anger at the loss of control seeping from the depths of the suit. “Don’t ever do that again,” he warns, his arms enveloping you as you surrender consciousness, sagging limply into the yellow rabbit’s embrace.

***

Your eyelids open to discover a void surrounding you.

The power has failed.

You are by now familiar with the feel of the thin mattress tucked against the wall of the manager’s office beneath you. The pain in your forearm is more intense than ever and you cradle it as you sit upright.

You can feel the yellow rabbit’s eyes watching you in the darkness, even though the normally glowing sockets are oddly snuffed out.

“What happened to the lights? Was it…was my blood not enough?” You inquire, licking chapped lips. You wonder how long you have slept this time.

“On the contrary. It was enough to allow me to do something much more important than keep the electricity flowing.”

“Did you heal yourself?”

“Oh yes. Yes, you could say that.”

You hear the creak as weight is lifted off of the office chair and the click of shoes against linoleum before he reaches you. There is the sound of clothes rustling as the tall frame folds, kneeling at your feet.

You realize then that the man is no longer trapped within the yellow rabbit costume.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x reader #dave miller x you #springtrap x you #springtrap x reader

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bubble-tea-blossom · 1 year

Text

Professional Horse Trainer, Joel Miller

Ok hear me out...

Modern times, and Joel Miller is a pro horse trainer, you’re his assistant trainer. You, along with his nephew and his friend work under Joel, running the stables while Joel takes clients, and help train long term stayers.

You worked mostly alone at the start, only occasionally working one on one with Joel. But as the years went by Joel saw your value and skill surpass even his nephew’s along with your clearly surpassing common sense development, Joel started having you accompany him on his trips to different states to do conferences or see private clients willing to pay to have him come to them.

It’s been a while now that you’re now his always go-to for trips. Sometimes you wonder if his nephew is jealous. But you kinda don't really care.

Because honestly, long car trips across the flat open plains, sometimes venturing into the mountains just the two of you, getting every meal with each other, sleeping in the rooms next to each other, seeing the other sleepy eyed in the morning while you eat shitty motel breakfast across from each other at the much too small table; being in such close quarters with Joel for days, sometimes even weeks, is the most painful blessing.

Yeah, your little crush on him you had when you first started has only kindled into a full on forest fire.

The first thing that kept your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long was his way with the horses. The way he is with them is gentle, firm but never mean, never cruel. When there’s even a small minor improvement he speaks to them with real pride in his praise as he coos at them, low and soft. You find yourself sometimes shifting your feet when you listen to him praise the mares. You feel a little guilty about the reaction you can’t help but feel when he gives caressing praises like,

Good girl.

Atta girl, there ya go.

The occasional Good job, pretty girl.

His whispered praises haunt you in the dark of night while you stare up at the ceiling trying to sleep. Trying to ignore the pulse in between your legs. Pretend you don’t want to widen your knees, reach your hand down the length of your body, and touch where you so desperately want your boss to touch. But you can’t admit that to yourself. You’ve often rely on just pretending there’s nothing wrong, and it’s seen you thru many situations.

So here you are, lying in bed in the Green Lounge Motel in north Arizona, trying not to think about Joel on the other side of the wall above your head as you lie there. You wonder what he’s wearing to bed. He seems like a underwear sleeper. Your traitorous brain supplies the image of Joel first lying in bed in his underwear (which you have seen him in real life, traveling together for so long means its bound to happen, you're just glad there hasn't been an awkward moment where he catches you in that state...yet.) Then your mind provides the image of Joel lying in bed in his underwear..."releasing steam."

You wonder what he looks like as he takes himself in hand, head against the wall, eyes closed as he groans, fist pumping up and down. You wonder what he thinks about, or if he watches porn on his phone or something. You can't help but to hope wonder if he ever thinks about you.

You have limited info you gained when you were 15 talking to 15 year old boys, that said its more likely a guy you know has jerked off to you even if he’s not really interested in you, than not. But you don’t like that scenario. Joel’s nothing like those 15 year old boys. Joel’s a man.

You used to not get it, the difference of boys and men. Joel’s nephew for example, you could describe him as both a man and a boy. But Joel’s no boy. He’s quite a bit older than you, shown through the crow’s feet by his eyes, and the gray hair on his chin and by his temple. Year by year the silver strands creep further and further. It also shows through his hands, often dry and cracked, callouses on his palm and finger tips both from work and from guitar.

You think about his hands now, squeezing your eyes shut harder, legs clenched tight as if you can block out the ache.

You think about how thick his fingers are compared to yours. About how his fingers would feel sinking inside the wet pull of your pussy. He’d need to start with one, and work his way up to two. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing the pearl of your clit, his fingers inside rubbing at that spot that gives you shudders. He laps at your neck, giving the soft skin under your jaw wet kisses, breathing praise into your skin.

Good girl, taking my fingers so well.

You soaking my hand, pretty girl, does this feel good?

You nod and whimper your approval. Back arching when Joel dips his head to take your nipple into his mouth. His tongue dances over the nub of sensitive nerves and sends a buzz to your toes. Your hand goes to his hair to try and ground yourself at the sensations he's sending through your body.

You’re so wet now that you can hear him fingering you. Fuck, just the thought, Joel Miller fingering you, makes you clench down on him.

“You want me to keep fucking you with my fingers or do you want my cock sweetheart.” Joel asks you, watching you as you reply.

“I want your cock, please Joel.” You’ve been aching for it for so long.

“Ok, but I gotta stretch you a little more, sweetheart.” He husks, pulling his fingers out to replace with his tongue, making you gasp as his takes your pussy in his mouth. He tongue fucks you for a bit before replacing with his fingers, this time sinking a third finger in.

You suck in a sharp inhale as you half sit up, the stretch smarting too sharply.

“I’m sorry darling.” Joel coos, retracting his fingers carefully. Instead he rubs the sting away at the opening in your slit. Circling the muscle and tissue there, as he slowly adds more pressure. Then, ever so slowly, sinks all three fingertips inside your cunt. He knows he's taken his time properly when the walls of of your cunt almost suck him deeper. It makes him smile, your body's eagerness to accept him and take him inside. Joel takes his time until finally he's three fingers, knuckle deep. He picks up his pace, fucking you open. Getting you ready.

Your older cousin once told you, that you have a good guess what a man’s dick is like based on his hands. And Joel has broad, thick and long fingers.

You feel your stomach muscles clench down as your back arches from the beams of pleasure you feel rushing through you. You've grown so wet you can hear the fingers as they stroke around and inside you. Your jaw drops open as you get closer and closer, eyes squeezed shut, practically an inch from release.

Your hear nearly stops when a loud bang from the room next to yours. You freeze in place, heart racing from being so close, you listen for any other sounds. Ears strained you can hear Joel's footsteps walk back and forth. You're guessing something fell, something kinda big from the sound of it. But after that you hear no more.

You look over at the motel's alarm clock besides you. It's 2:11 in the morning, when you thought the lateness would gain you added privacy. Apparently not and now you're desperately trying to remember how loud you were being. You hadn't been focusing as much on staying absolutely quiet when your imagination was running around like that.

You'd come back to yourself with your mouth partially open, to which you close it, feeling dread that you might have slipped up.

Oh god, what if you had said Joel's name out loud or something, you couldn't imagine a worse, worse case scenario than your boss finding out about your little crush by overhearing you frigging yourself.

Your knees clap together as you roll over your side, face in your hands as embarrassment flows over you.

What were you doing? Touching yourself imaging your boss fucking you, a thing that most people would agree isn't exactly grade A morals. You let your orgasm fade out and feel the last unsure thumps in your pelvic floor ebb away, wishing it was getting caved in by a certain someone.

See? It's thoughts exactly like that cross the line.

You slap your sweaty palm to your forehead, trying to knock some sense back into you. You settle on your side, curled in the fetal position, knees pressed tightly together. Eyes shut, you will yourself to sleep. You have to be up early to get on the road to start your journey back to Wyoming. You really hope the next 10 hours of being stuck in a car with Joel won't involve you being extra squirmy, being pent up. You can feel how mad your pussy is, being that close to what had been an impeding incredible finish.

After a much too long of a time, you do fall asleep. Your last thoughts after an overwhelming race of them, was of course the one you spent the whole time trying not to think about.

What had Joel been doing up so late.

#i'm thinking bout sexy older cowboy joel #that shows special attention to you #he's someone you look up to #and he's also a mentor in horsemanship and riding #he'll be helping you out with something #and then theres something...a look #or a nickname that you don't know if you'd like any boss call you #but from joel everyone fills you with delight #joel miller smut #my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction

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robin-the-enby · 2 years

Text

Téir abhaile 'riú

Pairing: Bofur x f!reader

Summary: After Smaug took over The Lonely Mountain, Bofur and his relatives travelled far to find a new home. Although knowing it would never be the same as the place where he grew up, meeting who the dwarf could only describe as the love of his life could make things more bearable.

Warnings: slight mention of alcohol, no beta we die like men, overbearing sibling

A/N: I don't even know how, but suddenly I am very much in The Hobbit fandom again. And while listening to this playlist, I came up with this cute idea! I hope you'll like it!

It has been a few years since Smaug took over Erebor, a wound still fresh in the hearts of many dwarven families. But dwarves were resilient folk and so when a portion of them came across The Blue Mountains, they quickly set to build a settlement there, knowing that their ancestors used to live in these mountains as well.

And while nothing could ever compare to Erebor, the dwarven settlers were happy with what they've build for themselves. The Blue Mountains were a great oppoturnity to start anew. With everything needed for all kinds of businesses to prosper in near vicinity, they quickly adapted to their new home, the memory of the great kingdom becoming a fond, but somewhat painful echo in their hearts.

It was truly a place of abundance. With the mountains themselves towering over their roofs, they were surrounded by thick and calm woods that seemed ancient. And if one wanted to, they could simply get all the way down to the seaside.

It also helped that they weren't the only ones who found their home in the embrace of the mountain range. There were many elven habitants in the woods and even human settlers scattered all around, making trading goods easy and accessible.

But it is true that the dwarves usually stuck by each other, venturing into other settlements only for business. The tragedy that struck them still hung around them like a thick fog and they didn't particularly enjoy all the whispers around them when they did make an appearance somewhere.

Bofur wasn't any different than his kin in this sense. While the dwarf liked to remain optimistic, being constantly reminded of what they had gone through everywhere they went was...unpleasant. Luckilly, as time went on, the commotion slowly faded and the dwarves blended into the rest of the habitants of The Blue Mountains.

Once a year, a big festival was held near the seaside, in the biggest human town in the area. Granted, it wasn't nowhere near the cities elves, dwarves, even some humans were used to, but nobody really minded, since The spring festival meant not only good music and fun all day and night, but also a big fair and since all races came and celebrated together on this rare occassion, it was a good oppoturnity to gain clientele.

The spring festival was an event the people in the port town held as a celebration of their sailors returning safely home from their travels during the winter. What started as a local event quickly grew into something much bigger though. Everyone wanted to meet the local heroes, hear their stories and most importantly, have fun.

And that's why Bofur and his brother were helping their families and neighbours pack and load all the things they wanted to sell at the fair onto carts, prepare the ponies and clean up for the festival. It was one of the busiest mornings in a very long time. There was so much noise all around, one might think they were going crazy. It would also take a good few hours before they descended to the port town, so everything needed to be perfectly ready.

Bofur was excited. He worked very hard throughout the winter to make the best toys he could and he couldn't wait to show them off to others. Seeing the eyes on children's faces light up, as their mouths hung open and they begged their parents to buy them at least one small figurine was a priceless experience. After getting everything onto the cart, he started helping Bombur with ingredients and equipment for his food stand. Bombur also worked hard, preparing homemade sausages and cheese, as well as picking the best vegetables and other foods. But Bombur was much more excited he will be able to buy some good quality fish to change up the daily menu for his family.

The two brothers chatted happily about this and that as everyone got ready for the journey. Bombur was excitedly ranting about how many ways he will be able to prepare the fish for his family after such a long time. Bofur chuckled and reminded him that if he serves nothing but fish for two weeks in a row like last year, Bifur might just smash a plate on his head.

The rest of the way to the town went in a similar lighthearted spirit. The weather was nice, the sun was shining, the air was fresh, and for the start of spring, it was pretty warm. it was magical, watching the new leaves growing on the old trees, as if they came back to life after months of short, cold days and long, even colder nights. Finally, they reached the end of the forest. In front of them were just fields, full of blooming flowers and some early bees here and there. They were gently swaying in the light breeze and were surrounded by the ocassional butterflies that woke up early in the year.

In front of their cart, Bofur could see a few others in the distance. He couldn't make out who exactly it was, maybe other dwarves from their town or perhaps some elves or humans. The silver shine of the sea water on the horizon made him smile. They were getting pretty close! And when he squinted, he could make out faint smoke coming from the port town, which wasn't yet visible.

"Come on, we need to hurry!"

Disturbed from his musings, Bofur looked around for the sing songy voice that called out. Realising it came from somewhere behind him, he was beginning to turn around, when a flurry of hair and clothes whizzed past their cart, jumping in the already tall grass right next to the road.

The person stopped a short distance from Bofur and looked back at whoever she was shouting at. Smoothing out her clothes, the girl, as Bofur saw, looked back at where the town laid ahead and said "I can see the smoke! I can't wait to dance around the big bonfire!" she giggled and looked back, shouting again "Hurry up!" before laughing and running along.

Bofur chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm. He almost wanted to turn back to face the road, when two very out of breath young ladies caught up to him and his brother. They panted heavily as they slowed to a walking pace. When they caught their breath, Bofur said "Your friend seems very excited."

The two women chuckled shakily. "Oh yes, but that's (Y/N). She loves The spring festival. She's a carefree soul, one could say." the taller one shrugged. "You can say that again. She's a good lass, but she's a handful. Always wondering somewhere, I swear she's trying to get herself into trouble. I'm just waiting for our parents to lose their minds one day." the shorter one, presumably (Y/N)'s sister, rolled her eyes, but her tone was playful. "Well, I should probably catch up to her, otherwise she'll just climb onto one of the boats and sail away on her own." the girl sighed and jogged off again, leaving Bofur with the two's friend alone.

"I assume you're travelling to the Spring festival as well?" she asked the dwarf sweetly. "Aye," he confirmed "I'll have a stand with toys for children and my brother here will have his food stand." he nodded towards Bombur, who silently nodded, not really having been interested in what was happening, although he listened. "Toys? Oh that's lovely! I might just stop by and get something for my little Dudon." she smiled softly. "That's an interesting name! Is he your little brother?" Bofur asked. "No, he's my son." the girl laughed "He will be three years old soon." "You're kidding!" Bofur's eyes widened "Wouldn't have guessed you already had a family." "I've been married for a few years now. My family is the biggest blessing I could have ever had." the girl sighed, before looking up at him "Where will your stand be located? I don't want to make a fool of myself looking for you." Bofur laughed "Near the center of the town square. So that my brother gets as many clients as possible."

The girl giggled and waved him goodbye, saying she should catch up to her friends before she'll get lost and ran off.

*****

The whole town was bustling with life. Music and laughter came from every direction, all kinds of people were on the streets and in the shops and pubs lining them.

Bofur was very busy. His toys were selling like hot cakes. The only thing he managed to do between serving customers and rearranging and refilling the range of toys he prepared was to glance at Bombur's stand from time to time. He seemed to be doing very well. All the people were leaving his stand amazed, often with their mouths dirty from his delicious food.

Hours were passing by in what felt like lightning speed, the only indication being the sun moving along the sky. As the day slowly came to an end, the streets slowly lit up and more and more merchants packed up their stands, their products sold, ready to just enjoy themselves and try not spend all they've earned that day.

It seemed no one would buy any toys anymore, people whizzing past in a hazy flurry, leaving only laughter behind, instead of curiously looking around. Just as he started packing up, a very out of breath young woman stopped before his stand. He realised it was the same woman of the three they met on the way to the festival.

"Running to see me eh?" he smirked playfully. He was rewarded with a playfully offended expression "Excuse me sir, I am married." the woman scolded Bofur before taking a look around his stand "My, my, the folks really plundered this place." she then looked at the dwarf, who was holding a wooden crate, ready to put the rest of the toys in "Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were packing up already! Is it alright if I buy one toy, I swear I'll be quick!" the woman fretted and Bofur laughed "It's alright, I can wait a bit longer. Take whatever you think your boy would like."

As the young mother's eyes scanned over Bofur's products she apologized again for coming so late, explaining it with "We lost (Y/N) again. Her sister is running all around to find her. Buying a toy completely slipped my mind, but I was looking around here so I thought I'd quickly stop by." she chuckled at the end and Bofur looked at her with curiosity "Aren't you worried about your friend?" "No." the woman laughed "Her sister is. (Y/N) is a grown woman, who can make her own choices. She's adventurous, sure, but she doesn't need to be coddled, no wonder she's hiding somewhere. I would be doing the same if I was her." The woman explained as she continued looking around the toys. At last, she picked a wooden fox and paid Bofur the price, leaving a small tip, for "being so kind". Bofur thanked the woman, bid her goodbye and wished luck with finding their friend.

Bofur packed the rest of his stuff and met with Bombur, who also finished putting away his products. They both decided to stay in town and enjoy the atmosphere. After all, they both worked hard the whole day.

Finding a place to have some shouldn't have been as hard as it was. Every inn they came across seemed packed to the brim, the rowdy patrons could be heard from outside. Finally, after wandering for what seemed like hours, they came across a small establishment in a tucked away alleyway. Laughter and music could be heard from the inside, but when the brothers peered through the windows, they saw that there were many seats to be taken. Walking inside, they discovered a small, cozy looking tavern. A few tables lined the walls, only some of them occupied. Right across the entrance was a bar with a few stools, probably for regulars. The dim lighting made the atmosphere more intimate.

The dwarves sat down at a vacant table and started a pleasant conversation about today. Although, Bofur mostly listened to his brother ramble excitedly about all the products he was able to trade or buy, and all the recipies that were already flooding his mind. Their one sided conversation was interrupted, however, when two jugs of ale were placed in front of them. Both brothers looked up at the same time to the one who brought them the drinks. They saw an older, small, stout woman smiling warmly at them. "Here you go gentlemen! Enjoy!" she said sweetly. "But we didn't order anything yet?" Bofur asked with confusion. "It's a gift from one of the patrons" the woman expained, her smile mysterious. Both brothers discreetly scanned their surroundings, but everybody minded their own business. "Well, we'd like to meet the person who sent this." Bombur exclaimed. He was a little suspicious, the chance of the woman pretending those drinks were a gift, only to charge them for them in the end was not small. On the other hand, if they really were a gift, they would like to thank the person face to face.

The woman smiled and thought for a second, before shrugging "I'll ask her." and then made her way back to the bar. Bofur and Bombur looked at each other. "So a lass, eh?" Bombur muttered. "You think she's pretty?" Bofur thought out loud. "As if that'd matter to me. I am happily taken if you forgot!" Bombur huffed and took out his pipe, stuffing it carefully with herbs. "You on the other hand..." he gave his brother a side eye, a small, teasing smile stretching on his face as he put the pipe to his mouth. Bofur rolled his eyes and was prepared to retaliate, before they were interrupted again.

"Good evening!" a voice chirped. Looking up, Bofur recognized the person standing at their table as (Y/N), the infamous troublemaker. "Didn't think we'd see each other again." she smiled. After a brief moment of silence, she added "You're welcome for the ale, by the way." Bofur felt his brother kick his leg under the table and as if he was just woken up from a trance, he scooted over, patting the space next to him "Yes! Yes, thank you, you didn't have to do that. Would you like to join us?" (Y/N) giggled and slid onto the bench next to Bofur.

As the day drew to a close and merchants were less and less busy, the working attitude fell off of everyone's shoulders and was replaced with relaxed fun, that escalated more and more with time...and alcohol. And the small tavern wasn't any different. Conversations became louder and laughter more frequent. Everyone was having a good time. Bofur, Bombur and (Y/N) weren't an exception. The woman exchanged stories with the dwarves, although Bombur let his brother tell most of the stories, as he could do it better. Bombur was content listening, sometimes adding in details his brother forgot, but he enjoyed more seeing how the two were closer and closer to each other.

When (Y/N) first sat next to Bofur, there was a small, but appropriate distance between them, like with any people who just met that day. But as the night progressed and both of them were getting more and more comfortable (and probably tipsy, Bombur drank less than half the amount Bofur and (Y/N) did, because at least one of them had to be sober enough to drive them home), the distance between them was smaller and smaller, and now they were practically leaning on one another.

Everyone was having so much fun, they didn't even notice someone approaching their table until someone tapped (Y/N) on the shoulder. She turned to the stranger, recognizing him as one of the patrons in the tavern. With a smile, she asked "Can I help you?" The man rubbed his neck in a nervous manner and spoke "I hate to interrupt you miss, but me and my friends were thinking of playing some tunes to brighten the mood and the good lady behind the counter told us you can play spoons...If you'd like to join us?" (Y/N) looked uncertainly at Bofur and Bombur, but they only smiled, Bombur inhaling smoke from his pipe and Bofur encouraging her "You can play lass? Well I'd definitely love to see that!" he grinned at her. (Y/N) giggled and stood up, taking two spoons from the older woman efore making her way to the table where the musicians were sitting. They were already taking out their instruments. Soon, lovely music could be heard on the street. Not too long after, people from the outside began flocking in, first to see what was going on, lured and intrgued by the swift melodies and soon the tavern was bustling with life. The conversation between Bofur and Bombur ceased, the former too busy looking at (Y/N)'s hands working the spoons together, creating interesting rhythms.

After maybe an hour, the small establishment was filled with people. All tables were full and who couldn't sit was dancing in the open space. Some more musicians joined the original ones and (Y/N) was now more or less sitting by them and enjoying herself. The table where Bofur and Bombur were sitting at was no longer occupied by just them, but other people as well, strangers. They made conversation amongst themselves, not caring to include the brothers, so they just looked around, content in their silence. But Bombur noticed his brother's eyes always ending up on that girl. Once he had enough of Bofur's oggling, he nudged him across the table, motioning with his head towards her. "Ask her for a dance." he told him and Bofur shook his head, although the grin on his face suggested he was entertaining the idea even before Bombur asked. He stood up and carefully made his way around the dancing folk towards the band.

When he reached (Y/N), he smiled at her, although a bit sheepishly and extended his hand towards her, bowing slightly. She looked up at him and gently put her hand into his, letting him pull her up. "I thought you'd never ask." she smiled smugly at him.

They twirled around for what felt like eternity. His hands on hers, on her waist, her hands on his shoulders, their faces so close to each other, their breaths mingling. (Y/N)'s eyes rolled around, laughter pouring out of her pretty throat. Bofur's eyes seemingly couldn't leave her though. While hers were full of amazement and sparks, his held a tenderness that would surely make any girl swoon if they'd see it. And she looked at him. Her smile became more gentle, her lips slightly parted as they gazed into each other's soul.

"There you are!" someone grabbed (Y/N)'s arm tightly and oulled her away from her dancing partner. It was her sister and she was quite mad. "Do you realize what time it is?! I was looking for you all over the town!" she spewed at her, while (Y/N) only managed to blink, stil dazed from the moment she just had with the handsome dwarf. "It's time to go home." her sister decided and tried pulling her to the exit. (Y/N) pulled out of her grasp and signaled for her to wait a moment. She turned to Bofur, who was pretending to not listen, and grabbed his hand, making him look at her. She smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. As she let go of his hand and turned towards her sister, who started gesturing wildly and was probably trying to figure out what she just witnessed, Bofur grinned like a mad man. He touched his cheek carefully and mumbled "Till next time then, lass..."

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