#call masking solution

[tanlakarix]

How a Voice API Improves Customer Experience with Karix

What Exactly Is a Voice API? What Are Its Strengths?

Voice APIs are adaptable technologies that can help your firm provide a more engaging and conversational client experience. Rather than having to build out a best-in-class global telecommunications network to support sophisticated voice calling features from scratch, your developers can use the built-in, enterprise-grade features of a voice API to quickly create voice applications or embed voice functionality into your company’s existing digital channels, such as your website or app. An API is also cost-effective because it allows you to pay just for the phone calls you use.

While speech APIs allow voice calling in the same way as traditional corporate and consumer phone systems did, their possibilities are not nearly as limited. This communication technology is adaptable and extensible, allowing you to tailor it to your specific needs. For example, you can leverage speech APIs to build an AI virtual assistant that provides helpful voice-enabled customer care 24 hours a day, seven days a week, even while human employees are busy serving other customers or fast asleep. Customers who prefer to speak with a human can do so considerably faster because a virtual voice assistant reduces the total amount of incoming customer care calls.

You can also utilise a voice API to integrate voice right into your website and app, offering users a handy way to communicate with you at the exact moment your brand is on their mind. This in-app speech capability may also be integrated into your contact centre, providing critical call context to your agents so they already understand what the consumer is calling about without having to ask them to repeat vital information, which customers despise. Voice APIs can also perform real-time sentiment analysis, identifying whether a customer is becoming frustrated and allowing your firm to address their concerns before escalating their conversation. Your contact centre team can also evaluate these metrics on a regular basis to find areas for development and to constantly improve the customer experience.

What Are the CX Benefits of a Voice API?

Voice APIs can assist you in better identifying and serving your customers, ensuring that their problems are recognised and addressed. By recording contextual information, your human customer experience specialists can determine who is calling and why they are calling, regardless of whether the call came in through your website, app, or another channel. This contextual communication enables your team to customise each encounter with each customer, saving orientation time and speeding up resolution time. It also allows for real dialogues that put your customers at ease and increase their pleasure.

The automatic speech recognition characteristics of voice APIs provide your consumers with simple self-service alternatives, allowing them to perform tasks such as placing orders or validating their identities using their own voices rather than waiting on hold for a human. Furthermore, this feature supports over 120 languages, allowing for rapid service and an intuitive, comfortable experience for customers all around the world.

Many customers value privacy, and it should be a given as part of the customer experience you provide them. The in-app voice function allows users to connect from app to app and by phone without giving their phone numbers, improving privacy, and avoiding off-platform transactions. Finally, voice quality is critical to make all these experiences dependable. As a result, voice APIs feature high-quality voice quality to provide the highest calling quality for your applications. This is crucial because, as we’ll see, even the most innovative and forward-thinking customer experience approach will fail if voice quality isn’t outstanding and consistent.

How Voice Quality Affects the Customer Experience

Voice quality plays a crucial role in shaping the customer experience when interacting with companies like Karix. Here’s how voice quality can impact the customer experience:

Clarity and intelligibility: A high-quality voice ensures that the customer can clearly understand the information being conveyed. Crystal-clear audio eliminates misunderstandings, reduces frustration, and enhances overall communication effectiveness.

Professionalism and credibility: A clear and professional voice conveys a sense of credibility and expertise. When customers perceive the voice quality as high, they are more likely to trust the information being provided and have a positive impression of the company.

Emotional connection: Voice quality can evoke emotions in customers. A warm, friendly, and engaging voice tone can create a positive emotional connection and foster a sense of trust, empathy, and personalization. On the other hand, poor voice quality may create a negative emotional experience and lead to customer dissatisfaction.

Effective communication: Effective communication requires not only the right words but also the right tone and cadence. Voice quality influences the ability to deliver messages effectively, ensuring that the intended meaning and sentiment are conveyed accurately. It helps in conveying empathy, addressing concerns, and resolving issues promptly, leading to better customer satisfaction.

Brand perception: Voice quality contributes to the overall brand perception. A consistent and high-quality voice across various touchpoints, such as IVR systems, customer support calls, and recorded messages, reflects positively on the company. It enhances the brand image and contributes to a positive customer perception of the company’s professionalism and attention to detail.

Customer retention and loyalty: A positive customer experience, including good voice quality, can significantly impact customer retention and loyalty. Customers are more likely to return to a company that provides an excellent experience, and a pleasant voice quality can be a distinguishing factor that sets a company apart from its competitors.

Overall, ensuring high voice quality in customer interactions is essential for creating positive experiences, building trust, and fostering long-term customer relationships. Karix and other companies should prioritise voice quality to enhance customer satisfaction and maximise the value of their customer interactions.

What an Improving Call Quality Benefits the Business

Have you ever called a company, heard the connection go through, and then heard a crackling sound on the line that made understanding what was being said difficult? Or have you ever called a customer service number and begun telling a polite employee what you needed, only to be abruptly disconnected? Then you already know how bad call quality might seem. When you can’t hear your counterpart on the phone, you’re instantly at a disadvantage in acquiring the assistance you require. And if your call is suddenly disconnected, you’ll have to decide whether you want to restart from scratch.

Customers are often frustrated by these common voice quality difficulties. If people can’t have a meaningful discussion with you using one of the approaches, they find most human and natural, they won’t believe your customer service is helpful or responsive. They may even question whether your company loves the client experience enough to invest in its success. If your customers have these perceptions after a call, you may forfeit the opportunity to gain not only their business but also their referrals to other potential customers.

Companies cannot afford to allow poor quality derail the consumer experience. According to Karix’s research, the consumer loyalty tipping point is approaching faster than ever. If people continually encounter frustrating interactions when speaking (or, in this example, attempting to contact) with a business or service provider, 52 percent of poll respondents indicate they are very likely to cease buying from or utilising its services. When faced with communication dead ends, 46 percent of clients will do the same.

How a Voice API Improves Call Quality

Communications APIs can assist businesses in addressing these issues with mobile, landline, and VoIP call quality. An API voice call can provide the quality of service that clients demand if it has access to a carrier-grade network and worldwide connection to tier 1 carriers. Voice APIs from a reputable partner with direct peering connections to all major carriers in the United States eliminate intermediaries and further improve voice quality.

Furthermore, even during busy periods or as the organisation grows, speech APIs can reliably deliver these quality-of-service benefits at scale. These performance enhancements enable your company to increase contact centre quality, ensuring that your clients never have a shaky or unreliable connection when they call you. As a result, when they Connect with your customer service team, and everyone involved will be able to focus on what matters most: the needs of the customer.

Because speech APIs frequently need little code, your company may quickly integrate these capabilities into your app, website, and other digital presences rather than having to create them from the ground up or wait for expensive circuits to be constructed. This adaptable technology can coexist with telephony systems as needed, and because you only pay for what you use, it’s a low-cost approach to start incorporating more sophisticated and dependable calling capabilities into your client experience.

A voice API allows for innovation in ways that traditional voice calling cannot, such as exchanging contextual information that personalises the user experience and makes it more conversational. According to Zendesk’s recent survey, more than 90% of corporate executives and managers recognise that their organisations will have to do so.

Improve Your Customer Experience with a Voice API.

Customers want to talk to you, especially if you use speech technologies. At the same time, they have never had higher expectations for an exceptional customer experience. When speaking with you, customers prefer a genuine and comfortable discourse over a transactional relationship. It may seem obvious, but good communication makes the difference between whether they are satisfied and willing to do business with you again. A breakdown in call quality or a disorganised, impersonal dialogue can have an immediate impact on client sentiment. Voice APIs provide the meaningful conversations your customers anticipate, even in ways they never imagined. Voice APIs are far more than just a way to deliver a phone conversation; they are a strategic asset for improving your customer experience.

For More Info: https://www.karix.com/products/voice-solutions/

[doomdoomofdoom]

Other fun facts the news have reported: He was Valedictorian. He worked on Civilization VI. He never got to play Outer Wilds. He wrote a 4-star review for the Unabomber's Manifesto. He volunteered at a nursing home in high school. He had chronic back pain and underwent surgery to improve his condition. He followed Joe Rogan and Edward Snowden on Twitter. His family was rich; he went to private school and likely did not struggle with his medical bills, nor would he ever. The nursing home he volunteered at belonged to his grandfather. The gun was 3D Printed but the 2 page Manifesto was handwritten.

That being said, I don't think we should be out here deifying the guy. He planned a murder, and he planned it well, then executed it equally well, and got caught by chance. (Notably not because of any actual police work) He carried his possessions, including the same clothes, gun, and manifesto, because he was on the run and leaving them behind anywhere would've been more dangerous. He isn't some criminal mastermind playing 4D chess by letting himself get arrested. He's a regular guy, maybe with above average intelligence, with regular varied interests and experiences. He's not a two-dimensional caricature, but a human being who got fed up with a system and decided to send a (violent) message. Whether he'd get caught was the matter of a coin flip (about half of all murders in the US get solved). He got caught.

You can put him on a pedestal or in a pit for what he did, but not for who he is. Because he's a normal guy. And that's the problem for law enforcement and media. If a normal guy can just kill a CEO in broad daylight, what's stopping the next normal guy?

Ignoring the real possibility he intentionally let himself be caught from the little we know so far Luigi Mangione's case is a fascinating combination of astonishing brilliance and confusing stupidity. This young man plans and executes his assassination and escape with such a meticulous care and calmness that it's suspected that he's a professional hitman. He comes up with Riddler-sque moves like writing his manifesto poetically on the bullets and leaving his backpack behind full of Monopoly money. He carefully wears a mask to avoid being identified but removes it because a woman who was checking him into the hostel was flirting with him and wanted to see his smile. He still manages to escape the most surveilled city in the country in the midst of ongoing national manhunt only to get caught in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Pennsylvania while eating at the McDonalds. Because for some reason he had the same clothes and mask as in New York and was carrying the same gun and suppressor. And when the cops detained him he showed them the same fake id he used in New York. And oh yeah he's a frat bro gym rat who has a masters degree in computer science from Penn but reads stupid self-help books about being on the grind and is 'anti-woke' while being bisexual suffering from anxiety and wanting to end oppressive capitalism. Not even god himself could invent a person like this

[sffgtrhyjhmnzdt]

The Power of Engagement: Leveraging Missed Call Message Services

One such method that has gained significant traction in recent years is leveraging missed call message services. Often underestimated, missed call number alert solutions in the USA hold immense potential for businesses looking to enhance their engagement strategies and connect with their target audience in meaningful ways.

Understanding Missed Call Message Services

Missed call message services involve a simple yet powerful concept: allowing users to communicate with a business by giving a missed call to a designated number. In return, they receive an automated response, typically in the form of an SMS or callback, providing them with the information they seek or prompting them to take further action. This approach capitalizes on the widespread use of mobile phones and the convenience of missed calls, particularly in regions with limited internet connectivity or low smartphone penetration.

The Benefits of Missed Call Message Services

Accessibility: Missed call message services offer a convenient communication channel accessible to a wide range of users, including those with basic mobile phones or limited internet access.

Instant Feedback: By leveraging missed call message service providers in India, businesses can quickly gauge customer interest or satisfaction levels, enabling them to tailor their offerings and address customer needs more effectively.

Lead Generation: Missed call campaigns can serve as powerful lead generation tools, allowing businesses to capture customer information and follow up with targeted marketing efforts.

Engagement and Interaction: Missed call message services provide in the USA a platform for businesses to engage with their audience in real-time, fostering two-way communication and building stronger relationships.

Leveraging Missed Call Message Services for Engagement

Interactive Campaigns: Create interactive campaigns that encourage users to initiate contact through missed calls in exchange for exclusive offers, discounts, or information.

Lead Capture and Qualification: Develop lead capture strategies that leverage missed call message service to collect prospect information and qualify leads based on their level of interest or engagement.

Missed Call Software Providers and Service Solutions

Explore the landscape of missed call software providers and service solutions tailored for businesses, highlighting their features, capabilities, and benefits for enhancing engagement and communication strategies.

Missed call service providers in India represent a valuable tool for businesses seeking to enhance their engagement efforts and connect with their audience on a deeper level. By leveraging the accessibility, cost-effectiveness, and instant feedback capabilities of missed calls, businesses can foster meaningful interactions, drive customer satisfaction, and ultimately, propel growth. With the right strategies and approach, the power of engagement through missed call message services is within reach for businesses of all sizes and industries.

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[redeemingvillains]

cold comfort - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.

word count: 4k

soundtrack: between the sheets - imogen heap

a/n: wait this is kind of a saga! it just kept flowing and flowing, but i'm obsessed with it! hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

When Mattheo heard that a first year in Charms cast a spell that backfired so badly it rendered Hogwarts unable to regulate the temperature in the castle, he'd nearly spit out his firewhiskey. The mental image of Flitwick, McGonagall and all of his other professors frantically trying to fix it to no avail gave him sick pleasure as he thought about all the times they'd looked down on him because of his last name. Fuck 'em he thought. Serves them right.

He'd enjoyed his twisted happiness for several days until an unexpected early spring snowstorm rolled off the mountains, leaving the castle a veritable chamber of cold. For two days now it had nearly been cold enough for him to see the white puff of his breath inside. As others scrambled for a place in front of the fireplaces, his mood darkened, making him even more sullen than usual as talk of canceling classes and sending everyone home began to circulate; home wasn't really a place he was looking to go back to.

So now he was sat in the Great Hall in a large sweatshirt with his hood drawn up around his face, the standard dress code long since forgotten, one hand wound tightly around his second cup of black tea in an effort to warm himself while the other rubbed his tired face as he listened to the incessant chatter of his friends.

He was quietly zoned out until he caught a glimpse of you walking through the large entryway. Everyone in the castle looked in disarray: mismatched sweaters, hats and gloves in haphazard layers to stay warm, but not you, you looked like a perfect snowbunny. You were wearing tight black leggings, fur-lined boots, a thick sweater and a headband to keep your ears warm that complimented your hair. Anyone looking closely enough would see the imperceptible tug of his lips into what could almost be called a smile as you made your way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench next to him.

It wasn't lost on him that his best friend was beautiful. He was well and painfully aware of the fact and had been for as long as he'd known you. But, despite the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind at the sight of you, he was determined to keep you at an arm's length. Simply put, you were too good for him, too pure. You had a smile that radiated a warmth that he could feel even now, you were caring and compassionate, smart and sweet, quick with a hug and a kind word. You were everything that he wasn't. He told himself, constantly, on repeat, that it was better to have you in his life at all than to fuck it up trying for anything more.

He subtly traced your face through the corner of his eye: your long lashes, the curve of your smile, and your warm, rosy cheeks, and just like no one but you could see his smile, no one but him noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He nudged his shoulder into yours.

"Alright?" he mumbled.

You glanced up at him, his groggy morning voice and the way his curls stuck out from his hood making you feel like you'd swallowed a pixie. You felt yourself flush, your exhaustion wearing down the mask you normally kept up around him, determined to never let him know how you really felt.

"Just tired s'all" you smiled kindly, nudging him back, coaxing what could almost be another smile out of him as you met each other's eyes. "I can't sleep for shit. No matter what I do, I can't get warm, even under a pile of blankets, in my fuzziest pajamas and a jumper" you shivered.

"Skin to skin is really the only solution" Pansy chimed in with a smirk as she sank further into Draco's arms and you rolled your eyes at the two of them. She had snuck out of your room the last few nights, leaving you not only cold, but alone too.

"Couldn't agree more" Theo said, smirking, before lifting an eyebrow at you "ready, able and at your service, babe" he said, opening his arms to you as you swatted him away, laughing at his attempt to flirt with you. He smiled widely and laughed back before glancing over your shoulder at Mattheo whose eyes were narrowed in his direction.

"What, mate, it's not like you're any help, what with your strict 'no sleepover policy'" Theo chirped at him, referring to the fact that regardless of how many girls came in and out of Mattheo's bed, (which was a sizable number) not one had ever stayed the night, always kicked out in the end, despite the fact that they hoped to be the one to break his streak.

You turned to see Mattheo shooting daggers at Theo.

"S'my bed" he muttered, "more than happy to have someone in it for awhile, but a lad's got to get his rest, yeah?" he laughed and the guys laughed back.

You faked a bitter smile, returning your attention to your breakfast in front of you. You weren't naive but that didn't mean you had to sit here and listen to this, you nibbled a piece of dry toast, the mental image of Mattheo with other girls making you nauseous.

Mattheo's smile fell from his face as he watched your reaction, and wished for the thousandth time that he could tell you that he made that rule because of you. Because if he couldn't have you, then he wasn't going to waste time getting closer than necessary with anyone else; the nights he spent alone his bed his punishment for who he was, the fact that he'd never be good enough for you.

You stood abruptly and shot him a small smile as you moved to leave. He said your name quietly and reached for your hand, but you were gone before you realized it.

That night you crawled into cold sheets that felt almost damp with a chill. Despite the pile of blankets and your thick pajamas, you couldn't get warm or comfortable, tossing and turning as small shivers ran through your body and Pansy's words echoed in your head. You were desperate for warmth at this point, desperate for a good night's sleep, but there was only one bed you wanted to crawl into, and it was with the only person who refused to share it.

Surely he would break his rule for you, for his best friend? you thought; things were different between you two. But were you willing to try, to embarrass yourself if he said no? You rolled around for another hour before climbing out of bed.

Mattheo was in a fitful sleep, which was not unusual for him; his nights were frequented by nightmares, leaving him constantly groggy and grumpy, but when he heard your voice, he was sure he was dreaming, a good dream, a great dream at that.

"Mattheo" you were whispering.

He turned to see you standing at the other side of his bed and was incredibly confused, until you moved to get in... and then he panicked. He panicked because he had thoughtfully planned every way to avoid this exact situation from the moment he met you, knowing that at this proximity he wouldn't be able to control himself. And he was right. You were close, too close. He could smell your shampoo, like warm vanilla, and his hands moved on autopilot towards you, his fingers twitching to bring you closer to him before he stopped himself, inches short.

"Whatareyoudoing?!" he whisper-mumbled in frustration, the words coming out angrier than he'd intended at the range of emotions he was feeling.

You froze, your heart shattering. He was angry. He didn't want you here, he didn't want anyone here. He was going to kick you out and you'd be mortified, your friendship would never be the same, you'd taken things too far. You felt a scratch in your throat as tears threatened to spring forward.

Even in the thick darkness, Mattheo could see that he'd upset you, able to read your expressions better than his own. He could see the wobble of your bottom lip as your wide eyes looked at him and he hated himself and the situation all the more for it.

"Please Matty, m'just so cold, I can't sleep" you whispered, using the nickname that was strictly forbidden for anyone but you that made him melt.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply, trying in his sleepy state to figure out a solution as he felt his strength waning; the figment of his every daydream was literally begging to be in his bed and he was certain he couldn't trust himself, certain that this only ended one way.

You took in his rigid form and his frustration and began to backpedal, moving to leave.

"M'sorry, it's okay, I'll go, maybe Theo—"

And you didn't even get a chance to finish your thought before you felt his large, warm hands wrap around your middle and tug you across the bed and into his chest, quickly but gently.

"C'mere" he mumbled as he settled you against him, chest to chest, your head tucked under his.

Your arms wound around him naturally, your legs intertwining, the two of you fitting together effortlessly, perfectly, like puzzle pieces. You let out a small giggle as you nuzzled into him, making yourself comfortable.

He could feel your warm breath as you let out a contented sigh, the innocent sound somehow sinful to his ears as he willed his mind to stop wandering in every direction it wanted to as he felt every dip and curve of your body against his own despite the layers of clothing between you. He kept his hands at your back, unmoving, for a moment unsure if he was even doing this right, unable to remember the last time he'd cuddled with anyone.

"Thank you" you whispered, your voice already sounding relaxed and sleepy to him as your fingers traced patterns on his back, a lavish feeling that released every ounce of tension he had been holding.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as his arms hugged you to him firmly and you felt a sensation like melted honey spreading through every inch of you, as he rubbed your back, warming you from your heart to the tips of your toes for the first time in days as you fell into a hazy sleep.

The first thought Mattheo had was that he felt heavy, his limbs felt weighted and his mind felt calm. Rested he realized after a moment. His brain was slowly turning back on, piecing together the dream he'd had, it was a dream, right? You, in his bed, in his arms, pressed against him, nuzzling into him, contented and happy. It felt so real, real enough that he could still smell you, the intoxicating scent of your shampoo, could still feel you in his arms, could still ghost his fingers down your back. You hummed in response and his eyes fluttered open only to realize it was definitely not a dream.

You were here, with him, in his bed, had been all night, your body still wound perfectly in his, neither of you having let go of one another or moved an inch; if anything, it was like you melded together even further. Fuck this is nice he thought as he looked down at you curled into his chest. This was everything, everything he'd hoped it would be. He wanted to stay like this for as long as physically possible, the looming fear of it having to come to an end already upon him.

Suddenly, a pillow came flying onto the bed, askewing the thick curtains that draped around his four-poster.

"Oi wake up, will you, Riddle? Shit, it's almost noon and we've got practice in an hour" came a shout as a cacophony of voices followed behind it into the room.

You stirred in Mattheo's arms just as a hand reached through his curtains to pull them aside.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Days" Blaise drawled, annunciating every word as the others gathered around him.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it"

"Let's gooooooo!!"

"Mattttyyyy!!!" each of them shouted as the jumped up and down in excitement at the sight of you in his bed.

"Fuck off" he said, grasping the pillow they'd thrown at him and hucking it back at them, causing them to disperse as they fell apart with laughter and more cheers.

He felt you shift next to him and looked back to see that you had pulled the covers over your head, just the tips of your fingers and the top of your head visible. He yanked his curtain closed before leaning back towards you and gently grasping the blanket near your hands to pull it back.

While not the wakeup you had hoped for nor expected, Mattheo pulling back the blankets with a soft sleep-ridden smile on his face and his rumpled curls to see you was a mental image that you were sure you would think about every day for the rest of your life. You were swimming in a sea of him, engulfed in his smell, like pine and amber, and you were delightfully warm; he was going to have to pry you out of here.

"Hi" he said quietly in his morning voice.

"Hi" you whispered back.

You looked perfect. He may have thought about waking up to you, with significantly less clothing on and significantly fewer onlookers, but he'd never considered how beautiful you would look, your eyes not all the way open yet, your hair spread like a blanket of its own and fuck if he didn't want to kiss you. His eyes drifted lazily to your lips and back again and he swore he saw a flash of something in your expression in response, curiosity, or perhaps confusion.

"I should—" he started, shaking his head clear.

"—Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn't realize the time—"

"No problem, take your time—" he said as he rolled out of bed to more cheers and shouts as he shepherded his friends out the door to give you some privacy.

You pulled the sheets back over your heard, burying yourself further into his blankets, reveling in the warmth his body had left before squealing with excitement at the way your day had started.

You were afraid that things would be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't, you were in your easy, unbothered rhythm together. Besides the giggles and teasing from your friends, nothing had changed... including the temperature. As the day went on the warmth you had woken up in faded and you felt progressively more cold settling into your bones, already dreading the cold night ahead of you.

Spending the night with Mattheo was a nice reprieve, but not something you intended to make a habit of, certain you didn't want to live through more teasing nor get your hopes up trying to read into how intimate it had felt.

You were leaving dinner, arms wound around yourself at the chill in the air when you heard a voice calling for you. You turned to see Mattheo jogging after you.

"Hey!" he called.

"Hey" you smiled back, glancing up at him as he fell into step with you.

He smiled readily back at you; he'd seemed peppier today, letting the ceaseless taunting roll of his back with a shrug of his shoulders, the unwillingness to turn everything into an argument or fistfight very uncharacteristic of him.

"Yeah, so—" he started to say, as he looked around for a moment and carded his hand through his hair. He took in how cold you looked and all he could think was how badly he wanted to fix it. "—About last night or whatever...I know it's still fucking frigid, if you wanted to come by or sleep with, er, stay with — in my — yeah, you could do it again if you wanted?"

You couldn't hide the smile the spread widely across your face, nor the way your eyes sparkled mischievously as you stopped walking to face him.

"Mattheo Riddle, are you asking me to sleep with you?" you said flirtatiously, leaning towards him.

He stopped breathing. Your proximity and the words coming out of your mouth snatched every last breath and every last thought he'd had.

"Don't fuck around with me" he said through smirked lips, his voice low and measured, holding a hint of playfulness, but also a warning.

You laughed softly back but didn't back down.

"I'll see you tonight" you said as you continued your path back to the common room, leaving him gazing after you.

Your new outfit that night wasn't lost on him. You were wearing a form-fitting pair of soft pants and a matching top that hung slightly off your shoulder, revealing the lace of a bralette. You crawled into bed beside him, smiling contentedly and curling into his arms like you were married, like this was the most normal, easy, simple thing in the world, and yet it still took him a minute to really comprehend the situation, to relax.

He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Blaise shouted across the room, "Goodnight Theo!"

"Night, Blaise!" Theo shouted back.

"Night, Enz!" Blaise said again.

"G'night!" Enzo replied.

Mattheo rubbed a hand over his face at the antic.

"I swear they don't do this every—" he started.

"—Night, Draco!" Blaise shouted.

"And Pans!" Theo chimed in.

"Full fuckin' house in here" Enzo said.

"Goodnight!" she giggled back.

"Goodnight Mattheo..." Blaise said slowly, drawling out his name.

Mattheo didn't reply.

"GOODNIGHT YN" they each shouted.

You laughed, "Goodnight!" you said back and they cheered as Mattheo turned and buried his head into your shoulder in embarrassment, letting his body weight fall on you in exasperation.

You laughed at his reaction, instinctively bringing a hand to tangle in his curls and hold him to you before you could stop yourself. It was decidedly more intimate than anything that had happened between you before, but it had just felt right, something about pulling him into you, comforting him. You paused after a moment, catching yourself... running your hands through his hair should not make you feel this way; suddenly, you were very very warm.

As if he could sense your reaction, he lifted his head just slightly to meet your eyes, his face inches from yours.

He had to feel your heart hammering in your chest at this proximity, right? As he searched your face, it felt like a veil had come down between the two of you after a night spent together on top of years spent dancing around one another like you didn't know exactly what this could be. On cue, the room around you fell deeply silent as the others settled into sleep.

Your hand slowly dropped to trace his cheek.

"YN" he said in a low voice, cautious, guarded, his tone roughly translating to "Don't".

"What?" you whispered.

"I can't" he said.

"Can't what, Matty?"

The nickname made his heart beat double-time, an impossible feat based on the way it was already drumming loudly in his ears.

"You know what" he said sternly.

"Why?" you asked, innocently, the tips of your fingers moving to trace his jaw, nearing his lips before his hand grasped yours firmly, stopping you, making you jump slightly.

His body was rigid and taught, his expression was serious, maybe even threatening to anyone but you, but all you could see was the look in his eyes that were burning with something else, something much more passionate than anger.

His words were strained, like it was a physical effort to form them.

"I. Can't. Alright? Just let it go" he said as his eyes continued to beg otherwise.

Your next words were so soft, he almost didn't hear them, might have missed them if his entire being wasn't fine tuned to hear the exact phrase.

"Kiss me" you said, somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He caught your eye and his breath caught in his throat at the way you were looking at him: your eyes wide, soft and focused on him, your chest visibly rising and falling underneath him, your body pressing against him as you wiggled your hand out of his grasp to trace his cheek. Surely he couldn't have heard you right?

"I'm not—I can't— that's not a good idea. I can't just kiss you" he said, stumbling over his words uncharacteristically.

"Why?" you asked quietly, sadly.

"No—not—fuck—" he started and stopped, trying not to upset you again.

He paused, trying to collect himself.

"Why do you think no other girl has slept in this bed?" he said seriously.

You pulled your hand back at the mention of other girls at a moment like this, but he responded by reaching to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him.

You were shaking your head.

"Because if I couldn't have you, then I didn't want anyone else. You're fucking it for me, always have been, but girls like you don't end up with guys like me and it's best I don't waste your fucking time and ruin our friendship in the process, alright?" he said resolutely, with finality.

"Matty—" you started

"—Please stop calling me that, please" he said, slamming his eyes closed, "I'm trying to maintain a semblance of self control here."

"Stop holding back!" you whisper-yelled, which caught his attention, causing his eyes to flutter open. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I want you. I've always wanted you, ask any of our thickheaded friends, they've all known for a long time."

He blinked slowly like each individual word had to register in his head. You could see him swallow, could see the sentence process in his brain as the pad of his thumb traced your cheek and you leaned into him, pressing further against him.

"Kiss me, Matty" you said.

And the last thread of his self control snapped. He leaned in, hovering close enough that you could feel the faintest touch of his lips as they ghosted against yours, teasing you.

"If I kiss you, that's it then, you're mine" he said, like it was a threat, an ultimatum, and not the best thing that's ever happened to you.

A smile spread across your lips and you nodded against his.

"All yours" you whispered back and he caught the last of your words with his mouth, his lips taking yours as both of his hands came to grasp your face firmly but gently, pulling you into him.

You could barely suppress the hum of pleasure that left you at the sensation, the relief of the feeling of his lips pillowed against yours, the tenderness and softness so opposite of everything that he was, the duality of it all had your body tingling. One of your hands grasped at his sweatshirt while the other wound around his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you as he moaned into your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and you swore there wasn't anything in the world but this moment, this feeling with him as you tasted the lingering flavor of cigarettes and peppermint that you would come to associate with him.

It was all grabbing, desperate hands and crashed lips at first, trying in moments to catch up on years of wanting, until it was tantalizingly slow, languid, purely achingly perfect and intimate. You were certain you would kiss him like this every single day, given the chance.

It could have been minutes or hours that you were lost in each other before he pulled back, and the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and marching you to the first broom closet he could find.

"I've spent just about every day for the last 5 years thinking about this, and I cannot believe I'm about to fuckin' say this, but I'm not gonna rush it. At the very least, I'm not gonna hook up with you in a room full of people" he said, before tilting his head, "Well, at least not the first time... after that, no promises."

You laughed quietly and swatted at his shoulder.

"C'mere" he said, pulling you into him.

You curled into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck, your head resting on his chest as he held you tightly, brushing soft kisses to your temple as you fell asleep.

E P I L O G U E

You had been so caught up in the events of the evening, you hadn't really stopped to consider what happens next, namely, how would you tell your friends? Just make an announcement at breakfast? Put on enough PDA that they drew their own conclusion? Take off the scarf you were wearing that was covering the innumerable hickies on your neck? Your mind was in a heady fog about it all as the group of you wandered towards the Great Hall.

You were glued to Mattheo's side, but that wasn't really unusual; his fingers brushed against your own as he shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.

"YN!" a voice shouted behind you.

You turned to see Cedric Diggory jogging towards you and you slowed your pace, as did everyone around you. Boys had to be either brave, stupid or naive to approach you when you were with your guy friends, and you weren't sure which category to put Cedric in as his eyes met their unwelcome stares but addressed you anyway.

"Sorry— yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to—" he started.

Oh no you thought.

"—Cedric, really, that's so kind—" you interrupted, trying to prevent a scene from breaking out as you felt Mattheo tense beside you.

"—You didn't even hear what I was going to say?" he said with a laugh, somewhere between offended, annoyed and amused.

"Well, think that makes the message pretty clear then, mate" Mattheo said, the anger palpable in his tone.

"Excuse me?" Cedric replied. "I was talking to—"

Oh no you thought again.

And you weren't quick enough to intervene before Mattheo had Cedric pinned against the stone wall of the hallway, his forearm at Cedric's chest, nearly lifting him off the ground as his feet dangled for purchase.

"I don't fucking care who you were talking to. From now on, you don't talk to her at all, alright?"

"What are you, her bodyguard?" Cedric sputtered as he gasped for breath.

"No" ... a pause... "I'm her boyfriend" Mattheo growled.

You tried and failed to hide the huge smile on your face behind your manicured fingers as your friends shouted behind you.

Well, that's one way to do it you thought. ♡

[killerpancakeburger]

Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

[kxsagi]

So, bllk guys were at home, then they hear ring at door, turns out their s/o ordered a package... Which turns out to be four foot tall plush version of them. How would they react??

Bonus: If they ask: "You do aware you literally date me, right? Why do you need that thing in the first place?" S/O just responds: "Well... You are gone not for weeks, but for months because of your matches, I do miss you and get lonely, you know."

Basically that meme: Ah yes, me, my partner and their four foot tall plush of me

“𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞”

a/n: i freaking love this meme

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael

shidou ryusei

shidou was chilling on the couch, legs kicked up on the armrest, scrolling through his phone when the doorbell rang. he didn’t even bother moving at first, assuming it was a neighbor or some random delivery guy. but then he heard you call out, “babe, can you grab the door?”

with a groan, he dragged himself off the couch, shirtless in nothing but sweats, and swung the door open. 

his eyes narrowed. a massive box sat on the doorstep, and he squinted at the label. your name. “uh, what the hell did you buy?”

he kicked the box lightly, feeling how weirdly soft it was.

cue him watching you gleefully tear it open like a kid on christmas, only to pull out… a four foot tall plush of him.

he blinked. once. twice. “nah. no way.” he stalked over, snatching the plush from your hands. “the fuck is this thing?!”

you grinned. “do you like it? it’s you!”

he deadpanned. “yeah, no shit it’s me. why do you need this freaky-ass clone of me?”

when you shyly explained, “well… you’re gone not just for weeks, but for months because of your matches, so i do miss you and get lonely, you know,” he just stared at you.

his eye twitched. “so your solution was to get a diet version of me? the walmart brand?”

but instead of being annoyed, shidou cracked a wild grin. he picked the plush up and body-slammed it onto the couch. “alright, plush boy. you think you’re my replacement? let’s go.”

proceeds to fake-wrestle the plush, talking mad shit to it like he’s in some WWE promo.

“you think you can satisfy my girl, huh?! you ain't got the rizz, bro!”

bonus: he dramatically throws the plush on the bed and smirks at you. “now you’ve got two of me. double the trouble, baby.” 

itoshi sae

sae was on the couch, flipping through a sports magazine, feet tucked under a blanket like the cozy grandpa he is.

the doorbell rang, and he glanced at you, expecting you to answer. when you didn’t move, he sighed through his nose and dragged himself to the door.

he opened it only to find a massive box sitting there. his first thought was, “what in the capitalist hell did she buy this time?”

he carried it inside effortlessly, setting it down in front of you.

sae watched with mild disinterest as you opened it, then immediately did a slow blink when you pulled out a life-sized plush of him.

his expression was blank. just pure silence.

he blinked. once. twice. thrice. then:

“… you are aware you literally date me, right? why do you need that thing in the first place?”

you bit your lip and sheepishly muttered, “well… you’re gone not just for weeks, but for months because of your matches, so i do miss you and get lonely, you know.”

his eyes softened. just a fraction. his fingers twitched slightly, but he masked it with a dry sigh.

“you’re ridiculous.”

and then, without saying anything else, he walked away.

you frowned, assuming he was brushing it off, but five minutes later, you peeked into the bedroom… and saw him lying on the bed with the plush tucked under his arm.

he glanced at you, looking unbothered. “what? you bought it. might as well use it.”

bonus: after a couple of hours, you find him subtly fluffing its hair to make it look less disheveled. he side-eyes you with a faint glare when you giggle. “say anything, and i’m throwing it out.”

itoshi rin

rin was at the kitchen counter, filling his water bottle after finishing his home workout, his black tank clinging to his skin.

the doorbell rang, but he ignored it. not his problem.

when you called out, “rinnie, it’s a package!” he wiped his face with a towel and muttered, “you ordered it, you get it.”

that is, until he saw you struggling with a box twice your size. he clicked his tongue and walked over, grabbing it from you effortlessly and setting it down.

when you tore the box open and pulled out a four foot plush version of him, rin’s eyes narrowed immediately.

his gaze was stone cold.

“what the hell is that.”

you hugged the plush, beaming. “it’s you!”

his face twitched. deadpan. blank stare.

“you are aware you literally date me, right? why do you need that thing in the first place?”

when you shyly admitted, “well… you’re gone not just for weeks, but for months because of your matches, so i do miss you and get lonely, you know,” he just stared at you.

rin exhaled slowly, then turned his back to you.

“whatever.”

but later that night, you woke up from your nap and found the plush sitting on the floor… facing the wall. 

you squinted at rin, who was on his phone, clearly the culprit.

“why is he in timeout?” you asked, raising a brow.

rin didn’t even look up. “didn’t like the way he was looking at me.”

bonus: he pretends to hate it but you catch him stealing glances at it from time to time. and when you’re asleep? he tosses a blanket over it so it doesn’t “stare” at him.

isagi yoichi

isagi was on the couch, happily binge-watching his favorite anime when he heard the doorbell.

he jumped up enthusiastically, assuming it was the food delivery you mentioned.

when he opened the door, he paused. big-ass box.

“huh? i didn’t order anything…”

he carried it inside and watched in confusion as you eagerly opened it.

his jaw dropped when you pulled out a massive plush of him.

he blinked. “wait… hold on. hold on. is that… me?!”

you beamed. “isn’t it cute?”

he looked genuinely concerned for your mental health.

“love… you’re aware you literally date me, right? why do you need that thing in the first place?”

when you softly admitted, “well… you’re gone not just for weeks, but for months because of your matches, so i do miss you and get lonely, you know,” his face fell slightly.

his eyes softened immediately.

he slowly walked over and wrapped his arms around you. “aw… baby…” he cooed, kissing the side of your head.

then without warning, he snatched the plush and started cradling it like a baby.

“yo, this is so cool though. look! i can practice celebrations with it!”

proceeds to mimic goal celebrations with the plush, spinning it around and fake high-fiving it.

bonus: the next day, you find him sprawled out on the couch with the plush tucked under his arm while he naps. 

kaiser michael

kaiser was lounging in bed, shirt unbuttoned and hair still damp from his shower, casually scrolling through his phone when the doorbell rang.

he waited. and waited. clearly expecting you to answer it.

when you didn’t move, he let out a dramatic sigh, muttering something about how he shouldn’t have to lift a finger for such trivial tasks.

he dragged himself to the door like he was doing the world’s most exhausting chore.

but when he opened it, his brows furrowed at the massive box sitting on the doorstep.

“what the hell is this?” he muttered, carrying it inside effortlessly.

he barely paid attention as you tore into it excitedly, until you yanked out a four foot tall plush version of him.

his jaw dropped slightly. he blinked once. then twice.

“wait… hold on.” he pointed at the plush. then at himself. then back at the plush.

his lips slowly curled into a self-satisfied smirk.

“oh. oh, this is perfect.”

instead of being confused or freaked out like a normal person, kaiser’s ego inflated tenfold.

he snatched the plush from you, holding it at arm’s length, examining it with faux critical eyes.

“hmm. the hair could use a bit more volume. and the eyes? they’re not as dazzling as the real thing.”

then he turned to you with a playful grin.

“but i get it, schatz. i’m gone for weeks at a time. naturally, you’d need a placeholder.”

he leaned in close, voice low and teasing. “but you know… if you were that lonely, you could’ve just flown out to see me.” 

when you explained softly, “well… you’re gone not just for weeks, but for months because of your matches, so i do miss you and get lonely, you know,” his eyes softened for half a second.

but then his smirk returned with twice the arrogance.

“aww, you miss me that much, huh?”

bonus: later, you catch him posing the plush around the house, making it sit on the couch with crossed legs like it owns the place.

he even takes selfies with it and posts them on his story with captions like:

“double the kaiser, double the greatness 😎✨”

“which one is the real me? 👑”

“@bluelockofficial take notes. merch idea.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[wonderjanga]

First Meetings pt. 2

Bruce was hurt. He was shot multiple times and left bleeding in an alley on some trash bags. Thankfully, next to him, the perp was knocked out next to him after he tried to reach and steal his utility belt. It sent a non-lethal shock at him. Bruce called Alfred who is currently driving the Batmobile to him at the moment.

Bruce was blinking in and out of consciousness when at some point he blinked and a giant blob of red and yellow was leaning in over of him.

Marvel: “…sir?”

Batman: *grunts*

Marvel: “Okay… uhm…” *squats down* “Sir, can you hear me? Are you okay?” *smacks his cheek a couple times*

Batman: *swats the hand away*

Marvel: “Okay… at least you’re alive and conscious. Somewhat. Come on, son, let’s get you to a hospital.”

Hospital? Oh so this man was trying to help him. Wait, the man was reaching for his utility belt. He was going to get shoc— oh wow. He wasn’t even flinching.

The man was holding Bruce up by the belt and barely batting an eye as the utility belt administered non-lethal shocks that should’ve knocked out by now or at least singed the man’s hand.

Bruce blacked out from there. At some point he knew that the man was carrying him while walking, then at some point, he was very high in the air, and then finally he was on a hospital bed. It seen Bruce was finally conscious enough to realise what was going on. That he was in a random hospital room in God knows where. The man, he was dressed a bit like the speedster from Central city and the new hero from Metropolis, was talking to what was probably a doctor.

It seemed the doctor noticed him first and immediately grabbed a vial full of orange liquid and tried to make Bruce drink it.

Doc: “Here try this it’s my patented pain disappearance solution! Tell me if it works!”

Marvel: *smacks it away* “Trust me when I say don’t try that. It will either kill you, or worse, turn you blue.”

Doc: “Hey!” *scrambles to pick it up*

Marvel: “Anyways, son, how are you feeling? You had quite a few holes when I found you.”

Batman: “I’m fine.” *sits up* “Where am I?” *feels his belt for his communicator* “And where is my batcommunicator?”

Marvel: “Communi-what? You mean this thing?” *pulls it out and hands it to him*

Batman: “Yes. …Why I won’t it turn on?”

Marvel: “I don’t know.” *shrugs* “But it did suddenly started smoking when I touched it.”

Batman: “Did you short it out?”

Marvel: “Maybe? I don’t really know what that means.”

Batman: *long ahh sigh* “Do you have any tools I could use to fix it? And again, where am I? You didn’t answer me.”

Marvel: “We’re in Fawcett. In a clinic to be specific. And, I don’t really know what tools exactly you have in mind. Sorry.”

Bruce ended up being shown to a rotary phone. Vintage. From there, he called Agent A and got the flip out of there. The man was probably worried sick.

By the way, it’s because of this entire interaction that Bruce always thought Billy knew his secret identity. Because, well, why wouldn’t you unmask the stranger in a bat costume who you found shot four times? This ended up with him unconsciously more comfortable around Marvel than he realized as the years went by and the Justice League is formed.

Billy never looked under his mask.

[ladyfocalors]

Trappola's Guide To Winning (Your Heart)

summary: Ace overhears that you have a crush on someone, and for whatever reason, it bothers him. His solution? Offering to "help" you impress your crush, all while acting like he doesn’t care. His advice is half-serious and half-sabotage, but as time goes on, you notice his mood shifting.

pairing: ace trappola x gn!reader

warnings: miscommunication(?).

word count: 2.3k

ace trappola time! he is such a lying liar and a big denier. writing him was a bit tricky so i went a bit with my gut here. i will just have keep writing/reading about him until i get it! also thank you so much for the love on the riddle fic. i promise i read all your replies and reblogs! they make my day <3

Ace Trappola wasn’t the type to get so hung up on things (that was debatable). So when he overheard you telling Deuce and Grim that you had a crush on someone, he should’ve just let it go.

But he didn't.

"You have a crush?" he had repeated, standing behind you with his arms crossed.

"Were you eavesdropping?" You had turned around, startled.

"Not my fault you were talking so loud," he had shot back, avoiding the question. "Who is it?"

You had pressed your lips together, glancing at Deuce and Grim for help. Grim just cackled and said, "Why do you care? You jealous or somethin', Ace?"

Great question. Why does he care? And no, he was not jealous. Imagine being jealous of an idiot you liked! (He actually didn't know why he cared. Maybe because he was curious. Yeah. That was it.)

"I don't," Ace lied immediately. "I'm just shocked, that's all. I mean, really, Prefect? I thought you had better taste."

You narrowed your eyes. "You don't even know who it is."

"Exactly!" Ace threw up his hands. "I'm already questioning your judgment. What’s so great about this mystery person anyway?"

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I don't know. They’re just… fun to be around, I guess. They always know how to make me laugh."

"Sounds like an idiot." Ace scoffed.

"I like idiots."

Ace scoffed but found himself momentarily stunned into silence. That was the kind of thing people said when they were absolutely down bad, wasn’t it? His stomach twisted uncomfortably. Gross.

"Prefect, you should just ignore him," Deuce advised, probably sensing trouble. "He's just messing with you."

Ace was messing with you, sure. But also, not really. Kind of. His stomach was twisting in an unfamiliar way, a strange discomfort settling into his chest. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

Why did you have to go have a crush? Most importantly, why did he feel like he was losing to someone?

But he was Ace Trappola, and Ace Trappola didn’t lose. Not even to some mystery crush of yours. So he grinned, masking whatever this weird feeling he didn't want to feel was, and said, "Well, whoever it is, you’re in luck. Because, out of the kindness of my heart, I’m willing to help you win them over."

You gave him a questioning look. "Kindness? You sound like the Headmage with that talk."

"That hurts, Prefect. Comparing me to Crowley of all people?" Ace looked very offended.

"Well, forgive me for not trusting your kindness."

"Wow. No faith in me at all, huh?"

"Yeah, ‘cause you're totally not up to something shady." Grim snickered.

Ace shot Grim a withering look before turning to you. "Listen, I'm a romantic genius. Who better to help than me?"

You gave him a flat look. "I can think of a hundred people off the top of my head."

"Wrong," Ace said, leaning in with a grin. "You won't find better advice anywhere else."

"Okay, fine. I will take your so-called advice." You said with a defeated sigh.

Ace had won. Well, sort of.

Winning would be getting you to drop this whole crush thing entirely—something he was starting to want more and more as each minute passed. But for now, he’d settle for the next best thing: being the one you turned to for help.

That meant he had the advantage. That meant he could steer this however he wanted.

(And definitely not in the direction of some other loser getting your attention.)

"Alright, first things first: you gotta get their attention." Ace said, laying on your couch as you busied yourself with assignments, while Deuce peeked at your notes and Grim laid flat on the bed. "Make them notice you. You know, stand out."

You frowned at his words. "I feel like I already stand out. I'm the only magicless student in the whole school."

Ace waved that off. "Yeah, but that’s not the right kind of standing out. Make them curious about you. And you make them jealous."

"What?"

"You heard me." Ace said, tilting his head smugly. "Nothing gets people to realize their feelings faster than a little jealousy. Trust me, works every time."

Deuce looked dubious. "That sounds kind of–"

"–like bad advice?" you finished.

Ace scoffed, sitting up on the couch now. "C’mon, it’s basic psychology. If they see you getting cosy with someone else, they’ll start thinking, ‘Oh no, I’m gonna lose them!’ and boom, feelings unlocked."

"And how’s the Prefect s’posed to do that, huh?" Grim asked.

Ace shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe flirt with someone cool and charming." His grin widened. "Like me, for example."

You felt uneasy. It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. Ace didn’t know he was your crush, which meant you had no right to be upset. Still, hearing him offer you advice even if it sounded terrible and also offer himself so casually made your stomach sink.

You forced a laugh. "How noble of you to volunteer."

"What can I say?" Ace grinned. "I’m a giver."

Deuce frowned. "I don’t think lying is the best way to-"

"Okay, okay, plan B then," Ace cut in. "You should act a little harder to get."

"Harder to get?" you repeated.

"Yeah. Make them work for it." Ace leaned forward with an amused glint in his eye. "I mean, you’re not easy, right?"

Grim made a noise of disgust, and Deuce turned pink. "Ace, that sounds–!"

"I mean personality-wise, you weirdos," Ace huffed, cutting Deuce off for the umpteenth time. "Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter."

Ace ignored him and then turned to you. "But yeah, you should be a little distant. Y’know, act like you don’t care too much."

Act like you don't care too much. The words echoed in your mind. If he liked you, he would be jealous and wouldn't try to help you. Right?

It was fine. You would just take his advice and use it on him. After all, he was your crush. And if he really didn’t feel the same way, then at least you’d have your answer.

For the next few days, you followed Ace’s advice to the dot.

And Ace didn’t catch on. At first.

You made sure to get his attention, like he had said. Not in an over-the-top way, which would be very weird for you, but just enough to throw him off. Like sitting next to Deuce more often during lunch. Smiling a little too enthusiastically at other people. Being just out of reach whenever Ace tried to tug you into whatever ridiculous scheme he had cooking up that day. When he complained, you shrugged and told him, "I’m busy, Ace."

"Oh, busy now, huh?" Ace had scoffed, but he didn’t seem too bothered. Not yet.

The jealousy part took a little more effort, mostly because you weren’t great at flirting and Grim had outright refused to help you with any ideas, calling the whole thing "a pathetic excuse for a love scheme." But you had to be committed to the bit, so you pushed on, casually dropping compliments around Ace—never to him but always near him.

"Deuce, your hair looks nice."

"Jack is really strong, don't you think?"

"Isn't Silver so pretty? He looks like a prince."

Ace didn’t think much of it at first.

Well, he thought about it, but not in the way that meant anything. It was just weird, that’s all. A little annoying. Maybe a tiny bit irritating. But not because it bothered him. No, he wasn’t one of those weirdos who got all jealous just because their best friend was paying attention to other people. That would be ridiculous.

It was just that… who even complimented Deuce’s hair? Deuce had the most normal hair. And Jack? Sure, the guy was strong, but you sounded way too impressed about it. And Silver? Pretty? Like a prince? Okay, maybe, but why did you have to say it out loud?

And why were you so out of reach?

It wasn’t a huge difference, not really. Just enough that made him confused. He’d reach for your sleeve to drag you somewhere, and you’d slip away with some excuse. He’d call your name, and sometimes you’d brush him off.

It didn't matter, he told himself. (He told himself a lot of things lately.)

Things didn't change until Deuce had to smack him (not physically) out of the denial phase.

"You’re so obvious."

Ace blinked out of his daydreams. "What?"

Deuce stared at him like he was the dumbest person alive, which Ace took immediate offense to. He was not dumb. He just… hadn’t figured out whatever Deuce was talking about yet. Which wasn’t his fault, obviously.

"You like them," Deuce said, as if that explained anything.

Ace scoffed. "Duh, I like them. The Prefect is my friend."

"How do you know I was talking about the Prefect?"

Oh… crap. When did Deuce get so smart?

"Because who else would you be talking about?" He tried to play it off, but the heat rising to his face betrayed him. "You’re making weird assumptions, Deuce."

"You like them," Deuce repeated.

Ace let out a sharp laugh, crossing his arms. "You're insane. I don't, I helped them. With their crush. You think I'd do that if I actually liked them?"

Deuce gave him a long, exasperated look, then exhaled through his nose. "Okay. Let’s say you don't like them. Then explain why you have been sulking so much and acting so bothered?"

"I am not!"

"You nearly bit my head off when they complimented my hair."

"Well, maybe I don’t like lying," Ace shot back. "Your hair is just hair, Deuce."

Deuce’s eye twitched.

"And anyway," Ace went on, louder, "you’re ignoring the important part here. The Prefect has a crush. Not on me. So whatever you’re implying is wrong."

"No."

"What do you mean no?" Ace burst out. "What happened to backing up your friends?"

"You’ve been helping them impress their crush, right?" Deuce asked. "Then why does all your advice sound like sabotage?"

"That’s not–" Ace began, then stopped. The words stuck to the roof of his mouth, unwilling to come out, because… well.

He liked you.

Ace felt the world shift uncomfortably. That gross twisting in his stomach he had been ignoring for days? The irrational irritation every time you looked at someone else for too long? The fact that he had been so convinced that you having a crush was some sort of personal loss?

Everything made sense now.

"This is bad." he stuffed his hand into his pocket, turned on his heel and left his dorm, setting off on a long, aimless walk. Maybe fresh air would clear his head. Maybe it would make this realization feel less like a punch.

You didn't like him. You never told him who you liked and he was so caught up in denial that he didn't even bothered you to ask.

No, no. That wasn't fair. He liked you and made you follow his terrible advice (you didn't have to but you did). He already came so far and he didn't want to pretend he didn't like you.

The least he could do was be honest with you.

And, Ace Trappola wasn't a coward.

(Okay, maybe he was. A little. But not about this. Not about you.)

So after what was possibly the longest walk of his life, he turned back toward Ramshackle, his heart thudding against his ribs.

Ace had already spent enough time being an idiot. He wasn’t going to waste another second.

You had just finished dealing with Grim’s latest round of whining about dinner when a knock at the door made you pause.

You weren’t expecting anyone. Grim was still sulking about his empty stomach, so with a sigh, you moved to open the door, only to be met with the last person you expected.

"Uh," you started. "Are you in trouble with Riddle–"

"I like you." The words left his mouth before he could stop them. He looked vaguely horrified, like he hadn’t planned on saying it so fast. But now that it was out there, he couldn’t take it back. "Like, really like you."

You froze at the admission.

Ace sighed but continued. "Look, I get it, okay? You like someone else, and I already dug my own grave, but I had to tell you. Because, because if I didn’t, I’d be lying, and it sucks, and–"

"Ace–"

"–I mean, I probably made things worse by trying to help you and made you follow bad advice, which is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, and–"

"ACE!"

He finally shut up.

You exhaled, heartbeat loud in your ears. "You are my crush. I used your advice on you, idiot."

He stared at you, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Huh?" he said, very eloquently.

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You moved ahead to pull him in a hug. He immediately froze, standing stiff as a board. It took a few seconds for his brain to finally catch up to him and he returned your hug with a laugh.

"So all of that–"

"–was me following your advice." you finished his sentence, pulling back enough to look at his face. "You sabotaged yourself without realising it."

Ace groaned dramatically, letting his hands drop to his sides. "I played myself. I actually played myself!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "But at least now you know I like you back?"

Ace looked at you, then his usual cocky grin came back to his face. His hands settled awkwardly on your arms. "Yeah… yeah! Of course you like me. Who wouldn't fall me?"

You smacked his arms away. "Don't get too smug about it. Just be grateful I like idiots."

He could only smile at you, happy to have you back again.

He felt lighter, his heart fluttering with joy.

© ladyfocalors

[siempre-bucky]

hallucinations

Qimir x Reader

summary: Qimir takes quick action when you get sick on Khofar when you start seeing things

wc: 1.6k

a/n: for the anon that wanted some whump... I hope you like it <3 I'm working on requests rn and they're still open for Qimir!

You wanted to like this planet. Khofar was a planet you had dreamed of visiting since Qimir gave you a map of the outer rim. The dense forest made you feel so at home, one with the galaxy—or at least you wanted it to feel this way. Your head pounded with every step you took as you trekked behind Mae and Qimir, your lungs struggling to fill with air. You weren’t sure when you began to feel so dragged down and exhausted, you didn’t feel this way often. 

Qimir pulled his pack higher onto his shoulder and looked behind to catch a glimpse of you. His eyebrows knitted together in worry, “You alright?” he asked, tripping over a rock but catching himself gracefully. You looked up with tired dry eyes, they burned as you tried to keep your gaze on him. With a nod, you drew in a breath and powered through to close the distance between you and your friend. 

“Fine,” you answered, masking the illness that took over your body. You wanted to crawl back to the ship and bundle up in the small sleeping quarters that barely slept the three of you. This mission wasn’t about you, Mae was eager to please the master and kill the Wookie. Right now you hated the eagerness that was powering her, it made her walk faster. 

“You don’t look fine,” Qimir sighed, “we can stop.” He slowed his movements as you entered deeper into the forest, his eyes looking at your feet to make sure you didn’t trip over a rock or exposed tree root on the small ledge you had to climb down. 

You raised your hand and put it on his shoulder to reassure him, tempted to lean against him for support as you maneuvered around to get to solid ground. “I’m good. We need to help her find Kelnacca.” He noticed the weakness in your tone, followed by the slight hoarseness that had him wondering when the last time you had water was. “It’s just in front of us.” 

The man looked forward, squinting to see what you were talking about. He knew the exact location and you were nowhere close to the cabin where the Wookie resided. He quickly realized that you were so sick you started to see things. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as it dawned on him. He grabbed ahold of your arm gently to get your attention. You turned to look at him and he was able to take in the sweat on your forehead and the lifelessness in your eyes. “I need you to sit.” 

“I’m fine, Qimir. I feel ok.” 

Famous last words. A wave of lightheadedness crashed into you, and it made you stumble right into his chest. A chill followed, and suddenly you were transported to Hoth; freezing with no solution. Qimir was warm, the thickness of his coat warmed your cheek for a brief moment before he peeled you off of him. Everything was muffled as he sat you down on a rock, you vaguely heard him call out for Mae. The world spun as you watched him give her an empty canteen and urged her to go get water from the creek nearby. You swore you saw womp rats following her closely as she hastily disappeared into the forest.  

You suddenly felt the warmth of his hand hit your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes meeting his. His hand felt like a pillow, holding you steady as you struggled to stay conscious. His face finally came into focus. Qimir was just as beautiful as the day you met him, when he was still a gun runner for the Hutts, and you were freshly recruited by the Master for your set of skills.  “I think I’m sick, Qi,” you chuckled, giving in. 

“I know,” he sighed, using the side of his sleeve to gently brush the beads of sweat from your forehead. 

He looked around the forest anxiously, no sight of Mae and he had lost track of when he sent her. He grumbled something about her always taking her time and cursed her lack of urgency under his breath. Qimir felt you slump over and it instantly worried him. He’d never seen you so sick before. You managed to fight off colds with his remedies and hide your sniffles when you needed to. It hurt him to see you like this. 

The world went dark after that, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up to the smell of a familiar remedy. There was something about the spiciness that tickled your nostrils that instantly made you feel better. Qimir made it often when either of you got sick, storing containers of it just in case he couldn’t make it right then and there. He made it the first time for you just months after you met, getting caught in a rainstorm and the doors to the place you were staying wouldn’t budge. You were stubborn and demanded to stay with him after he shouted at you to find shelter while he tinkered with the bolts and screws. You were stuck in bed with a terrible cold for a week and Qimir never failed to bring you the special soup. 

You could hear the metal spoon drag along the bottom of the pot, the warmth of a fire soothing the chill you were still stricken with. A blanket had been draped over your torso, you snuggled in deeper to let it come up over your mouth, touching your nose. It smelled of him, earthy and a scent so uniquely Qimir. With a soft groan, you turned your head to the side to take in the room. It would have made a nice shelter if the Master wanted, it was large enough to hold a few people yet it had a charm to it. You felt as if you could live here for a while, fill up that nearly empty bookshelf in the corner, and bring those rusted-over monitors near the dirty window to life again. Maybe just not now though, your body felt as if an entire ship had been dropped on top of you. You didn't want to move, you couldn’t move. 

Qimir saw you wiggle beneath the blanket out of the corner of his eye. He quickly poured the soup into a bowl and carefully walked it over to you, kneeling beside the makeshift bed. “How are you feeling?” He placed the bowl on the table beside him and placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You were still burning up he noted, he took his hand and crooked his long pointer finger, letting it drag along the side of your face. Your head followed his touch so that your face was looking at the ceiling. It was almost sensual the way he touched you, slow and delicate, taking you in even in this state. He was thankful your eyes were closed or you might have seen the red flush on his cheeks.

“Like I got body slammed by a Wookie,” you answered weakly. “Was there a Wookie?” 

He chuckled a bit and shook his head, hair falling into his face, “No,” he said gently, removing his hand and sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been seeing things all day.” 

“Shit,” you cursed with a small laugh. Your eyes finally opened again and you turned your head carefully so it wouldn’t throb. Maybe he was right and you were seeing things because Qimir had changed? The green and brown baggy clothes you were accustomed to were different. He wore jet black sleeveless robes, well structured and they formed to his well-toned body. Had he always been that toned? You let your hand emerge from the warmth of the blanket and pressed your hand against his chest. His gaze was locked on your hand, watching intently as your fingers danced along the folds of his lapels, feeling the surprisingly soft fabric. 

“I-I have to go,” he told you, voice wavering as you touched the bare center of his chest. 

Your fingers were cold but his skin felt as if it was on fire. Qimir’s watchful eyes flickered over to you and your eyes began to droop closed. He took your hand and placed it gently on your chest, but he didn't let go. Carefully leaning in, he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Stay—” you don’t know what possessed you to say it. You wrapped your hand around his collar again, this time it felt soft like his beloved brown jacket. Another hallucination, but you liked that one. Sure, Qimir had always been handsome, but him in those back robes did you in. Your heart was racing and it wasn’t from the illness. 

 “Eat that when you wake up please,” he whispered against your warm skin. “I won’t be long.” 

You mumbled incoherently and let consciousness slip away as soon as his lips left you. Though it didn’t last long, you woke up once again not knowing how long you slept for. Your eyes slowly opened, and a blurry figure was standing in the doorway. He outstretched his hand, his forearm wrapped in a metal gauntlet that glowed in the moonlight. A large black object flew to his hand. 

You blinked once to sharpen your vision. 

Twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating again. 

The figure had his back turned to you, that object in his hand was a helmet. You watched as he slipped it over his head, his dark hair covered by the metal and he started to levitate inches off the floor. Those robes looked familiar. Qimir, you thought. But then you giggled to yourself—it couldn't be. 

You were just—hallucinating again. It had to be.

[dollfacefantasy]

LOCK AND KEY ♡

pairing: yakuza!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader x yakuza!satoru gojo

summary: you finally have a chance at a big break in your career, a story that would take you from a measly crime reporter to a real journalist. the only catch is it's about the two most dangerous men in the city. when they find out about it, surely nothing will go wrong...

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, non/dubcon, kidnapping (sort of), threesome, p in v, blowjobs, facefucking, biting, spitting, praise/degradation, mentions of violence + blood + murder + typical crime stuff

a/n: this is a belated birthday gift for my bestie @kaitkatme who i love so very much. i hope you like it <3 also thank you to @explorevenus @nexysworld and @fearcvlt for beta reading!! as always reblogs and comments are appreciated.

Your eyes fluttered open to stare at the ground below you. They found carpet you didn’t recognize. The spot directly beneath your face was soaked a darker shade by a pool of your blood. You could feel the source — a steady stream of crimson leaking from your nose. A dull ache throbbed through your skull as you tried to recall what led you to this point. Where were you? And why were you waking up here?

Lifting your head, you scanned the rest of your surroundings. Whoever was keeping you put you in a dark room doused in red lighting. Windows speckled the walls parallel to you while a large grand door took up the one opposite. Every surface appeared ominous, drenched in shadows. Obsidian carpet dusted the floor. You were thankful for that aspect since you’d been positioned on your knees. That foamy layer was the only thing sparing your joints from soreness right now.

Furniture was sparse throughout this place. A large sectional couch with thick seats sat in one corner while what looked to be a small kitchenette took up another. It seemed like a guest house; though, you didn’t see any makings of a bedroom. Perhaps it was located in the alcove you couldn’t see to your left.

Near the entrance stood a mirror. Through its reflective pane you were able to see your situation and the position of your limbs despite the stiffness in your neck.

You were bound at the wrists with restraints that tied to your ankles. They connected back to the wall behind you as well. That was how you managed to stay upright even while unconscious. Thankfully, all of your clothes had been kept on. Despite the bruising and blood on your face, you couldn’t see or feel any signs of other injuries.

Still, these factors didn’t answer any questions.

Your memories were returning to you, slowly and one at a time, but building a bigger picture nonetheless. This morning you’d woken up at the same time you always did. You went through the usual steps of your routine before walking to work. A man had catcalled you on your way. When you’d told him to fuck off, he called you a ‘stupid stuck-up bitch’ in return. You remembered fishing your phone out, jotting down a sentence in your notes app about doing a story on street harassment at some point in the future.

Earlier in the day, gray clouds had masked the sky as water drizzled down like half-hearted tears. When you arrived at the dreary office complex that constituted your workplace, you strolled right into the elevator and stood silently. Two men entered after you, crowding your smaller frame towards the back. They spoke as if you weren’t even there and carried on their conversation about potential solutions to the problem that was their wives not putting out enough since having babies number two and three.

Another note. A potential investigative report into marital rape.

When the doors in front of you had finally parted, you squeezed between the two sets of broad shoulders to freedom. You made your way through the array of desks ahead and found your own towards the back corner of the room. Right away, you slipped your phone into the drawer before booting up the computer. Those other stories could wait. The one you were working on today blew both out of the water.

You had clicked on the little folder in the top right corner of the screen. The one with no label. A slew of documents popped up across your screen. Faked financial forms, criminal records, suppressed victim statements, old news clippings. And your itinerary with one last interview lined up for tonight at 8 pm. 

The final nail in the coffins that you built for Satoru Gojo and Ryomen Sukuna.

It would be the last piece of evidence you needed on the two leaders of the worst crime families in this city. An exclusive account with a former member of the Gojo Clan who worked closely with Sukuna’s circle on their shared endeavors and was now turning on them both as he fled for his life? This would make your career.

No longer would this paper have you reporting on the lower rungs of the crime beat. With all the work you’d done for this, your editor would be forced to acknowledge your talent and dedication. You’d be given good stories that would help innocent people and make actual change. You wouldn’t have to interview burnt out cops or clueless onlookers about a car accident. With Satoru Gojo and Ryomen Sukuna’s collective downfall as a mark on your resume, you would do so much more.

Finally, you would be a real journalist.

The rest of the day had been pretty mundane if you remembered correctly. You’d spent most of your hours writing the beginning of your article and then prepping for the interview later.

The interview…

You’d been on your way to that when the memories stopped. The sky was already dark when you left the building. Golden streetlights glowed every twenty feet or so along your path. You remembered running your questions through your head as you walked, preparing for the possibility that you’d have to talk this guy back into sharing if he started getting cold feet.

Someone had called out to you though. It startled you. That you remembered. You didn’t see anyone else on the street, but that deep tone hailed you all the same. He hadn’t said your name. It’d just been something vague like lady or miss. Clearly not anyone who knew you.

But you looked in that direction all the same. Your eyes met a shadowy figure before pain radiated through your entire face.

Then everything went dark.

The most obvious conclusion to you now was that this had something to do with your scheduled interview. But you figured if that were the case, your body would already be floating through some river by now. Such was the fate of those who came too close to toppling the house of cards.

Something similar happened to the last guy who tried to expose the Yakuza syndicates. It was a few years ago, but you didn’t forget. How could you? He’d sat at the desk closest to your left. You could still remember his pudgy face and thick glasses.

Even worse, you could still remember the photos of him strung up in that slaughter house.

Well… at least you weren’t strung up yet. Bound and bruised maybe, but that didn’t mean certain death. After all, this was a pretty nice room to keep someone in for the sole purpose of execution.

The thoughts swirling through your head soon came to an end as you heard muffled voices outside the room. They started out barely noticeable but grew louder as seconds ticked on. You had just enough time to mentally brace yourself before that large door opened.

Two men entered the room. Your eyelids were still a bit heavy, but you didn’t need 20/20 vision to recognize them.

Standing next to each other, the pair looked like polar opposites. Both were muscular, but one was lean and the other bulky. Both wore designer t-shirts, but the lean one sported black while the bulky one chose white. Both of them looked at you like an apex predator, but the one in black with piercing blue eyes and the other in white with smoldering red.

Satoru Gojo & Ryomen Sukuna.

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. As if lifted by mere survival instinct, your eyes no longer gave you trouble. You could see in clear view as the two men approached you. An unnerving smile claimed Satoru’s face. The arrogance was there on Sukuna as well, just a much more muted version of it.

“Good. She’s awake now,” you heard Sukuna’s deep voice rumble. “She’s been passed out for a few hours.”

“I bet. Poor thing’s probably tired. Looks like your guys roughed her up a bit,” Satoru said, his lips turning into an exaggerated frown.

Your eyes flitted between the two of them. They didn’t have any weapons that you could see. Maybe you’d be spared for a little while longer.

“What… what’s going on?” you asked, struck by how raspy your own voice sounded.

The two of them looked at you, taking in your haggard appearance along with the will to survive you still possessed.

Satoru grinned impossibly wider.

“Awww, that’s how you know she’s a good little reporter. Already asking questions,” he teased.

His hand stretched out towards you as if he wanted to pat you on the head like you were a prized pup. Instead, you wrenched away like a wounded animal. You tried to escape his touch with such force that you nearly toppled over. He simply laughed at your close call, but another strong grip on your shoulder spared you from faceplanting.

Nausea rolled through you at the sudden touch. Never in your life had you wanted to crawl out of your own skin so badly. Sukuna’s palm was warm but rough. Something someone might mistake for human if they didn’t know the kind of man it belonged to. You looked up at him through your lashes. Unlike Satoru, he didn’t wear a teasing smirk or hold any amusement in his eyes.

“Let go of me,” you whimpered. You hated how weak your voice sounded. It came out scared and desperate, which to be fair, you were both. You just didn’t want it to be so obvious. But something about Sukuna stripped you bare, shattered your usual methods of concealment.

“Quiet,” he said. 

To your surprise, his fingers released your bicep, giving you a second of peace. But that was only so they could grab your jaw instead. The calloused tips dug into your cheeks. There was no pulling away now.

Satoru clicked his tongue. “You’re gonna learn real quick that you wanna be nice to me, sweetheart. I’m much more friendly than him.”

While held still, Satoru fished a white cloth from his pocket. He brought it to your face, wiping the tacky blood off your nose and lips before tossing it onto a nearby table.

Despite his minor kindness, you chose to ignore all that his statement implied. In your mind, both of them were equally horrible, and you didn’t want to get to know them well enough to discern which of the two was slightly less evil.

At work, you were forced to look at pictures of them constantly. Their cocky grins and intense stares filled the paper. You had to flip through page after page of stories about their scandalous escapades or legal dramas to get to your pieces at the back. 

You loathed it. 

Everyone in this city knew they were dirty. All of you knew that they made their money from the blood of others, that they stayed in power by shooting down any competition. But somehow everyone came to an agreement that you would all pretend they were just typical elite socialites. That their money came from their established bloodlines and that they kept it up through skillful investments.

You’d been so close to unraveling the lies. But it didn’t matter anymore. Not right now anyways. All you could do in this moment was survive. And to do that, you decided to focus on the more serious member of the duo. You figured he would give a better chance at getting out of here. Or at least a way of reaching a destination without so much drawn out anticipation.

“Where am I?” you asked.

Another brief moment of silence went by. Your question remained unanswered.

“Why are you keeping me here?” you tried.

“You really don’t know?” Sukuna said. The words sounded rough and scratchy, but his cadence was so smooth it sickened you. “You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you have some idea.”

You shook your head.

With your face held in place by Sukuna’s strong hand, Satoru reached out and actually managed to sweep his palm over your head. And not just once. He took advantage of your predicament and pet you several times, smiling at the grimace that overtook your features.

“Come on. Don’t insult us. We know you’re smarter than that,” he teased. “You’d have to be to find out all that you did.”

“How did you-” you started to ask. You’d been so careful. You secured every connection, terminated every unnecessary history of contact, kept all your information as private as possible. They couldn’t have traced you, so how did they know?

“It doesn’t matter how,” Satoru said.

“I was careful! I-”

“You were so careful, you didn’t think that it was possible we might have a few of your coworkers on our payrolls?” Sukuna interjected.

Fury, anguish, and humiliation rushed through you all at once because, no, you hadn’t considered that. You’d never entertained the idea that any of the people you worked with would sell you out. No part of you regarded any of them as paragons of journalism, but some optimistic shred of your psyche had refused to even contemplate that idea.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Satoru said, taking clear enjoyment from your faith in the world being shattered.”Your boss couldn’t have been more willing to give you up. He let us know all about your little story a few weeks ago.”

That reveal stung even worse. The past few weeks, all the nights you stayed late, all the hours you spent poring over documents and trying to find people willing to talk, all for nothing. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that interview you’d been heading to had been set up under the supervision of one of them.

You tried to stifle any further dismay, not wanting to give them any more satisfaction. You should’ve known asking how was futile. You had to change your angle, focus on the relevant information. They had discovered your intentions to go after them. Now you just had to look for a way to survive.

Internally, you tried to contemplate your current options. Really only two came to mind. Comply or deny. Neither sounded appealing, but you decided on the one you believed would speed things along.

“So what? Why am I even here? You killed my story already. There’s nothing else I can do,” you said. You fought with your vocal chords to keep your words even, to appear some kind of tough.

“Do you think we really believe you’ll just let this go?” Sukuna asked in return.

“We know you won’t accept a pay off. You’re way too honest for that. And a few vague threats won’t do the trick either,” Satoru said, squatting down to be eye level with you. “But-”

“Why haven’t you just killed me then?” you asked, cutting Satoru off. Your eyes stayed angled at Sukuna.

For the first time, your defiance seemingly got under his skin. It cracked the cocky exterior he’d so carefully crafted with each word he spoke. That sparkle in his eyes dulled a little bit. 

Before you could really register it, his hand darted for your face again. He wormed his long fingers underneath the thickness of Sukuna’s palm, flexing off the other hand. With a small jerk, you were looking at him again.

“What’d I say about being nice?” he asked. The words weren’t overtly angry. Impatient, low and tense sounding, but not angry. Not yet.

You didn’t dignify the question with a verbal response. Without even breaking your harsh glare towards him, you spit. Your saliva flew across the small gap between your faces and struck his cheek. The clear glob landed right below his eye. You almost flinched at the contact, so certain a volatile reaction from him would follow. But it didn’t. Instead, that sparkle flickered again. Amusement glowed at the center of his irises once more.

With a quiet chuckle, he wiped your spit from his cheek. He then brought those same saliva-coated fingers to his mouth and popped them inside, cleaning them of your fluids. 

Your face twisted into a grimace. You couldn’t recall seeing something more repulsive in your entire life. That made him laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” you said.

“And you’re so cute,” he teased, pulling you back in his direction.

On his other side, Sukuna tilted your chin upwards. He didn’t interject to help you, didn’t bother pulling Satoru back. He just watched as the other man leaned forward, brushing his nose along the shell of your ear before nipping at the lobe.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you tried to pull away. Satoru’s tongue slid from between his lips to trace a path down your neck. He kissed along the thumping artery in your neck, his lips pressing against your skin in time with the strong pulse.

“We have other uses for you,” Sukuna answered your original question, his grip on your neck still firm. “You’re much more valuable to us alive than dead.”

Uses. The word sent a chill down your spine.

“I’d never do anything to help the two of you,” you said.

He chuckled, deep and raspy, not at all concerned with your protest. “That’s not your decision, little one.”

A rush of involuntary heat flooded your body following the term of endearment. You refused to acknowledge it. Your body was just confused by the objectively pleasant touches. 

His hand slipped around to the back of your neck as he crouched to be level with you too. He gave the sensitive flesh there a squeeze. You had limited mobility with your limbs bound, but you still tried squirming away from Satoru’s wandering mouth.

Upon feeling you recoil, Sukuna’s hold tightened further, like an owner’s grasp on the scruff of their puppy’s neck.

“Just tell me what you want. You don’t have to torture me first,” you whimpered.

“Oh c’mon, princess. Does this really feel like torture?” Satoru cooed with a final kiss to your cheek. He pulled back to look into your eyes. Despite the softness in his voice, he still looked so fucking smug. You hated it.

“What do you want from me?” you tried again. 

While you could put up a good fight, you found your resistance breaking down pretty quickly under the constant touching. Half of you trembled with visceral hatred, pure revulsion at the feeling of their skin on your body. But the other half, the one you wouldn’t admit to if you could help it, felt something closer to frustration welling up because they were teasing. They weren’t giving you any real satisfaction.

Everything was too much, and you just wanted away from them. The contradictory mix of emotions was making your head pound and your chest ache. You closed your eyes tight again, hoping that maybe if you believed it enough, this would turn out to be some sick nightmare, and you’d wake up alone in your own bed.

“All we need from you is your cooperation. Be a good girl and listen,” Sukuna said. He gave the nape of your neck another squeeze, his nails digging into the delicate skin.

Your eyes opened again, connecting with his red ones. They gleamed so bright it looked as though actual rubies had been embedded into his sockets. 

At the same time, Satoru ducked in again to lay some more kisses upon your throat. His hands settled on your waist, smoothing up and down your soft curves. Every time they lowered, you could feel them pushing the line, testing how far they could delve beneath the hem of your shirt before you gave a severe reaction.

“You know this feels good,” Satoru murmured between kisses.

“No it doesn’t,” you said.

He chuckled at that, not letting up in the slightest. With a soft, disapproving click of his tongue, he tutted at you. “You’re lying. You can say you don’t like it all you want, but your body betrays you. Your skin is getting all warm, you’re squirming, and I bet… if I were to feel right here, you’d be all nice and wet for me,” he whispered as his right set of fingers slid between your legs, pressing on the seam of your slacks.

You jolted in surprise. A small squeal bursted from your lips at the sudden pressure there. You tried clenching your legs shut without losing balance, but it didn’t matter. His lithe digits continued sliding back and forth unobstructed.

Against your will, you whimpered. You couldn’t help it. He was stroking you just right, and as much as you hated it, it felt fucking good. His fingertips coasted over your pulsing clit and massaged your entrance where you already knew, true to his inference, you were starting to drip.

Drawing your attention back to him, Sukuna’s other hand came up to cup your jaw. His thumb landed on the seam of your lips before nudging its way in.

“Try to bite, and we’ll both lose a finger,” he warned.

You didn’t even entertain the possibility that he could be bluffing. If you caused the slightest bit of pain to his thumb, you were certain he’d inflict ten times as much onto you. So you did nothing. You felt the warm thickness of it on your tongue, felt the calloused pad against your soft muscle.

He pulled it back and forth a bit, in and out, testing you. In all honesty, you didn’t find yourself wanting to bite. Rather, your lips closed around his thumb with more purpose, actively accepting the digit instead of loosely allowing it.

“There you go,” he praised. “You already know what to do.”

Nausea bubbled up in the back of your throat again, but it was short lived, overpowered by the muted bliss Satoru was stroking into you down below. You let your eyes droop closed and even laved your tongue on his digit. 

It was slowly setting in that you weren’t going to get out of this. You figured the next best thing would probably be playing nice until another opportunity for escape arose.

Seconds later, you felt warm breath puffing against the side of your throat unoccupied by Satoru’s mouth. Little chills broke out over your skin. His other hand fell from the back of your neck, down your spine to the small of your back. He pulled you a little closer to the both of them. As close as he could while you were still restrained.

“You don’t have to admit you like it, little one. Just stop fighting. Let it happen.”

With that, he moved in on your neck too. He was rougher than Satoru. His teeth scraped over your sensitive flesh before his mouth latched onto a specific patch of skin. He bit it. Not just a little tantalizing nip. An actual bite. You gasped, tilting your head back and inadvertently giving them more access.

The bite on your neck wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it was sure to leave a mark. He started with just that one before continuing with a series of more down towards your shoulder.

Despite this, Satoru remained relatively gentle. He worked in the opposite direction, heading up towards your lips. His eyes rose to be level with yours. That same cocky attitude glimmered within.

“Still think I’m disgusting?” he asked.

“Repulsive even,” you replied.

“Let’s see if I can get you to think of some other big words to describe me,” he said, ducking in to connect his mouth with yours.

At first, your body tensed. You stiffened up under his touch. But in a matter of moments, you slowly began to kiss back. Your lips tentatively mimicked his movements before you found yourself settling into a rhythm. He was still vile, but his kisses maybe weren’t so bad…

With Satoru occupying most of your attention, you didn’t notice Sukuna’s hands falling away or his mouth receding from your marked-up neck. Your eyes were shut while making out, so you also didn’t see him stand up. You didn’t catch him undoing his fly and dropping his pants either.

The first indication of his changed position you got was the fat leaky tip of his cock nudging your cheek.

Reluctantly, you disconnected from Satoru’s mouth, turning your head to eye the interruption. As it came into your view, you had to make a conscious effort not to let your brows raise to the ceiling. In all your life, you’d never seen a guy so big. Not only was his shaft long, but it was so fucking thick. Your mind wasn’t even concerned with who it belonged to right now. You could only watch in awe as his fist slid up and down, stroking it with a tight grip.

Satoru didn’t seem as phased as you. He grabbed the other man’s cock without hesitation, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.

You watched as he gave it a couple strokes of his own while rising to his feet. It was only a few before Sukuna pried his hand away with a strong grip on his wrist.

“Watch it,” he warned, similar to the tone he used with you.

“Cool it, big guy. You’re just as bad as her. Acting like you don’t like something that obviously feels good,” he teased.

You were sure if anyone else had said that, they wouldn’t get the chance to speak like that again. But Sukuna only scowled at him before reaching for your head. He pulled you in closer, looking down at your wide eyes as his dick slid across the side of your face. 

He rubbed it across one of your cheeks, then the other. His eyes took in every little reaction you had. The small crinkles of discomfort, the shuddery breaths of desire. He took his time, toying and teasing before he actually brought it before your lips, so close that a few beads of precum smeared on your bottom lip.

“Wha- what do you want me to do?” you said. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was that you didn’t think you could.

For the first time, he laughed. And it wasn’t like Satoru’s. Nothing about the sound was lighthearted or fun. It was a deep, sadistic rumble. A sound that was the final many heard before they met their end.

“What does it look like I want you to do? Open that pretty mouth and suck it,” he said. The hand on the back of your head moved you in closer, slipping the tip just past your lips. “Same rules as before: you try biting, and I’ll make the slaughterhouse seem like a fantasy.”

You hadn’t planned on resisting anyways, but after hearing that, all the fight seeped out of your body. At first, you didn’t put much effort in either. You just kind of sat there on your haunches, letting him do as he pleased.

He pushed his hips forward. His cock slid into your mouth inch by inch. It was only a second or two before you felt his head starting to nudge the back of your throat. The urge to gag pricked at you, but you tried your hardest to suppress it.

You squeezed your eyes shut while keeping your jaw loose and your fists clenched. He rocked in and out of the warm embrace your throat provided.

Even with your eyes closed, you still sensed Satoru’s presence. His spindly fingers caressed the top of your head and trailed along your temple. A touch probably intended to be soothing, but one that came across to you as teasing.

Following a few more shallow thrusts, you felt a tug at the back of your head. It was too jerky to be Satoru. Your eyes opened to find those same red eyes staring down at you again, a lecherous grin spread across Sukuna’s mouth.

“Trying to make me do all the work?” he said. “You’re still as a corpse down there. If I wanted to fuck one of those, I would’ve killed you.”

You tried mumbling out a sorry, but around the dick in your mouth, the word was incoherent. He didn’t need to give further direction. You began lightly bobbing your head. The movements started off tentative, as if you were still figuring out how to move at all, but slowly, you found your rhythm.

Your eyes closed again, but this time not as tight. Like his thumb before, his cock served as a distraction. You didn’t have to think right now. Didn’t have to worry about how you would get out of this. Didn’t have to ruminate over how you would day get revenge. All you had to do was work on taking his dick farther and farther down your throat with each push of your head.

“Atta girl…” he mumbled from above.

A slow exhale blew from your nostrils. His relaxed tone eased your nerves as well. The pace at which you sucked became more languid. Your head swooped closer to his pelvis more fluidly. Saliva oozed from your mouth, thoroughly coating his length and your chin.

In the midst of losing yourself to the task at hand, a whisper broke through your bubble.

“Gonna untie you now, princess, so we can both play with you.” Satoru’s breath fanned against your ear as he spoke. “You better behave. I won’t mind chasing you down, but I don’t think it’ll be as fun for you,” he said as his fingers came around back to free your arms from their bindings.

The ties fell loose and dropped to the floor. Instantly, you brought your wrists to your chests, massaging the skin that felt raw from the rough material of the restraints. You swiveled them to get the blood flowing normal again all while still flicking your tongue against the ridge of Sukuna’s tip.

You heard him choke out a groan before pulling you off, a ragged breath spilling from his lungs. At the same time, you sucked air in. You took in all that you could while your airway wasn’t obstructed.

“Fuck… that’s a good girl,” he praised. You again ignored the heat that flashed through your lower abdomen.

Your eyes opened again, your lids feeling a little weighted this time around. They both came into your view. Sukuna’s cock hung between you and him, shining with your saliva and dripping pearly precum from the head. On the other side, Satoru also had his dick out now. He stroked it in your direction. It was also impressive in size, long and thick enough to make your mouth water, but after seeing the monster between Sukuna’s thighs, you didn’t feel apprehensive.

“Cute… she already looks a little cockdrunk, and she’s only had you,” he said.

Less patient than his counterpart, Satoru yanked your head closer and sheathed himself entirely inside your mouth in one go. You actually gagged this time around, globs of your spit leaking from your mouth as your eyes watered. Your hands flew up to his thighs in an attempt to brace yourself, but he kept you as close as possible, your nose nestled against the swath of coarse white hair.

You could hear them both laugh a bit and say something back and forth to one another, though specifics evaded your ears. Sweet humiliation floods your veins at the sounds. Satoru keeps you in place, not moving while throbbing in your mouth.

Although Sukuna had explicitly said no biting, he never said anything about your nails. You dug them into the meat of Satoru’s thighs as hard as you could, until the pale skin turned pink with little crescent markings.

Instead of hissing in pain and ripping you off of him, Satoru moaned. His hips bucked forward, lodging his shaft so deep in your throat you actually thought you were at risk of choking and dying. Your vision faded and noises grew distant.

Just as you thought you were about to lose consciousness, he tugged you backwards. Not all the way off his dick, far enough that you were still drooling on the tip as oxygen came back to you. The clear fluid oozed from between your lips like a leaky faucet.

“There we go. That’s better,” he hummed before easing your mouth on him again.

You took some initiative, hoping that might spare you from another close call with blacking out. Your tongue slithered over his veins as you’d done for Sukuna. The other man in question who was reaching out to stroke your head.

“Don’t forget about me,” he teased, nudging his hips at you a bit.

Your hand came up without thinking. You wrapped your fingers around his thicker shaft and began stroking it at a rhythm a bit slower than the one your mouth moved at. It seemed to satisfy him. He didn’t say anything else, nor did he make a move to handle you.

Satoru did however.

Your mouth’s smooth pace only staved off his enthusiasm for so long. Before you knew it, each of those large hands came to rest on either side of your head. They held you in place, held you still so he could take over the motions.

He wasn’t too rough at first, gentle as someone could be while fucking your face. His thrusts remained shallow and even. You kept your focus on twisting your hand around Sukuna’s length. You couldn’t see what you were actually doing, but as large as he was, there wasn’t really a chance of losing him.

As the pleasure started to build for Satoru, he got a little faster, a tad overeager. He wasn’t ramming his dick down your throat, but he was starting to move faster. You could barely keep up with it. It was intoxicating in a way; left you feeling lightheaded and spun out of order.

We have other uses for you. Sukuna’s earlier statement echoed through your mind again. They definitely were using you. Satoru rutted against your mouth as though it was a toy crafted just for him, and Sukuna watched the skilled swivel of your fingers like it would be eternal.

You lost track of time down on your knees.

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been down there by the time Satoru was stepping back and letting his cock drop from between your lips. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like you were so eager to see what else they had in store for you.

Your eyes cracked open again. You hadn’t realized they’d even shut. The first thing in your line of sight was Satoru’s shaft, still hard and flushed and soaked with your saliva. From there, your pupils rose, gazing upon the two grins above.

Satoru reached out to pet your head, and this time you didn’t pull away in the slightest. Instead, your head leaned into the tender touch, nuzzled at the palm providing you a sliver of comfort.

“That’s it. You’re coming around,” he cooed. “We just have to break you in a little.”

His voice actually sounded kind of nice when it wasn’t polluted by that arrogant lilt. It hit your ears all smooth and soft, like a steady stream of champagne poured into a glass.

Almost a polar opposite, Sukuna spoke from beside him.

“Get her up. Move over there,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the couches.

“You got it,” Satoru said in a sing-song tone.

He gave your head one more caress before ducking around back to untie your ankles. The restraints came apart quickly under his nimble fingers. After they slipped off, you felt the same relief flood your feet that you’d felt earlier in your hands.

He scooped you up off the ground, cradling you in his arms like a bride. Despite being leaner than Sukuna, he didn’t lack any strength. He moved with the same fluidity that he’d entered the room with.

Under normal circumstances, you would have fought him every step of the way. Each step would have seen you kicking and squirming, trying to get him to drop you just so you could scramble to freedom. But in all honesty, you were in no condition to scramble. Being on your knees so long had left them feeling like jello. You doubted you could successfully make the short trip to the couch let alone bolt through an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar area.

Upon reaching the luxurious seats, Satoru sat down and put you in his lap, another move you would have protested if you didn’t feel so off balance right now. He held you to his chest, stroking down your neck and onto your shoulders. Sukuna sat one cushion over from the two of you.

Without saying anything, he took your legs into his lap. You just watched, unsure of his intentions. But all that came of the move was the soothing feeling of his thick fingers massaging your calves one at a time.

All you could do was blink. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it. His digits dug into your muscle with obvious strength, but it wasn’t at all painful. If anything it felt nice, like an aid to your circulation after being bound for hours on end. You just couldn’t comprehend why he would want to do it.

Breaking you from your confusion, Satoru whispered in your ear, “Let’s get you out of this dirty thing.”

At first, you didn’t know what he meant. However, upon looking down, you realized the front of your shirt had become stained with both blood and saliva. It was in rough shape, much worse condition than when you’d put it on this morning for work.

You didn’t really try to stop him from pulling it off your body. It would be pointless. Instead, you remained motionless as he slid each of your arms from the sleeves and guided it off your torso. The fabric’s absence sent a small shiver through you.

He brought the shirt up, using it as a makeshift cloth to cleanse your face of any remaining spit from your jaw.

“So pretty even when you’re all messy,” he praised quietly, dropping the garment to the floor beside the couch.

You assumed your bra would be the next thing to go, but Satoru’s fingers targeted the button on your slacks instead. He popped the silver out of place and slid the zipper down before shimmying you out of them. Again, with your current lack of strength in your legs, the process went easy, like removing clothes from a doll.

“You’re being so good right now. Keep it up, and you’re really gonna like it here,” Sukuna said while continuing his slow massage on your legs.

For a split second, that sentence triggered your journalistic instincts that you thought Satoru’s cock had knocked out of your head. You’re gonna like it here. So they were planning to keep you around. This wouldn’t be a one thing. They weren’t sending you out with a bang. It was as Satoru had said. They were breaking you in.

You didn’t really understand why. The trouble of keeping you prisoner didn’t seem worth the spoils they gained from it. At least in your mind.

Reading the confusion written all over your face, Sukuna’s palms slid up to your thighs. He tugged you down a little bit. You shifted from Satoru’s lap to the cool material of the couch, leaving only your head on his thigh.

The large hands spread your legs apart. Another shudder coursed through your body. You felt completely vulnerable in this position, like a small puppy caught between two wolves, your soft belly left exposed for their sharp claws and teeth.

Though nothing so ghastly happened. Sukuna’s fingertips continued to ghost over your inner thighs and hips, the touch feather-light.

“You have something to say?” he said.

But you shook your head.

“You do,” he continued. “Come on. I won’t bite. Not again anyway.”

“I just… so you’re really not gonna kill me?” you said, your voice wary.

“We already told you we weren’t,” Satoru chided from above, his hand stroking your cheek.

“But why? What’s the point? Why would you keep a loose end?” you asked. You knew you should probably shut up. Why argue against your own survival? But the innate curiosity inside of you craved an answer.

“You won’t be a loose end,” Sukuna said. “You’ll be under lock and key here. There won’t be any risk of you getting loose.”

His hands began to push your thighs up against your sides. Heat flooded your cheeks. The position left you totally exposed in the most compromising way. You wanted to ask why; although, you had a hunch, but you figured they may begin to grow annoyed with your questions.

He could tell you weren’t satisfied.

“You may not understand why, but killing you would be such a waste. You’re smart, calculating, and you’re not bad to look at,” he said. 

One of his thumbs began to graze the center of your panties, eliciting a gasp from you. Up and down, the pad of his digit traced from your slit up to your clit.

“You’ll be nice to have around, a good little stress reliever. And when you’ve proven yourself enough, you’ll be useful to the business as well,” he went on, completely matter-of-fact.

“I don’t want to-” you started to whimper. But he cut you off with a swat between your legs.

“What did I tell you? It’s not up to you. Would you rather end up like the last guy?”

You shook your head again.

“Good. So don’t worry about that for now. Keep being a good girl, and we’ll talk about it more later,” he said.

His fingers hooked around your panties, beginning to tug them down your legs. You squirmed in response; both the cool air hitting your most sensitive spot and the idea of him seeing all of you like this making you anxious. Your thighs tried to close on instinct, but he blocked that and kept you open to his eyes.

“Ah-ah. Behave,” he tutted.

He pulled your panties the rest of the way off without incident. His eyes trained on your now revealed pussy like it was prey.

“You really are pretty,” he said. “I’ll have to get a taste later.”

Later. A part of you was almost disappointed. But before you had time to register that disappointment, his fingers swiped through your folds.

You gasped softly. His digits caressed over the slick skin with an exploratory touch, gauging how wet you were.

At the same time, Satoru’s fingers slid beneath your bra straps. The smooth pads of his finger tips also ventured South as they coasted towards your breasts. He squeezed them under the material of the cups. His thumb and index finger toyed with your nipple for a second before undoing the clasp in front so it could end up pooled with your shirt on the floor.

“You’re gonna take both of us,” Sukuna said as his fingers glided across your entrance.

“At the same time?” you squeaked.

“Not today,” Satoru teased. He leaned forward, smiling upside down at you.

“We don’t wanna ruin you right away,” Sukuna added.

You wondered what exactly not ruining you would entail, but you didn’t have to wait long. Seconds later those thick fingers receded from your cunt and tapped your hip.

“On all fours. Facing me.”

You followed the order as though you were being timed, flipping over and swiveling around. Satoru rewarded your new position with a firm smack to your ass. You bit your lip in shame. Neither of them needed to hear the embarrassing sound that wanted out of your mouth.

The sound of ruffling clothes came from behind you. Probably Satoru removing his shirt. You didn’t make an effort to find out for certain. It was only background noise to the man in front of you.

He held your jaw in the palm of his hand. With a bit more pressure, you were sure he could crush the bones there. But he didn’t. He just kept you still, watching every little reaction on your face.

You felt Satoru line up behind you. It was obvious when he started to push in. Your brows furrowed. Your lips rounded out into a little ‘o.’ Even though his girth hadn’t made you gawk, it still stretched you a little as he worked himself all the way inside.

A small squeak forced itself from between your lips as he bottomed out and his silky tip bumped your cervix.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purred from in front of you. “Just keep holding still.”

The deep timbre of his voice had your insides fluttering. Your walls massaged Satoru’s shaft with every little contraction.

He groaned from behind you. “Fuck… she’s tight,” he sighed as he began to rock his hips.

You moaned, the motion of him unsheathing himself from you almost as nice as when he filled you up completely. He started off at a slow pace, back and forth in a nice steady rhythm, striking deep with every thrust. Your breaths grew shaky, and your fingers clutched the cushion beneath you.

It was only a matter of moments before he started to speed up. He wasn’t jackhammering yet, but he was on the road there. His pelvis slapped against your ass in quick succession, the sound beginning to echo in the dark room. You bit your lip while letting yourself adjust. If not for Sukuna’s palm below your chin, you had no doubt your head would be hanging by now.

He just continued looking down at you, scarlet eyes baring into your very soul, making absolutely sure you got no break.

“You’re taking it so well, letting him get you all warmed up for me,” he praised.

Your body shuddered. You could only imagine what Sukuna would feel like. Thicker than Satoru but just as long. Would he handle you like this? Would he go harder or slower? Would he cum quick or last until you were begging for mercy. You supposed it wasn’t really worth thinking about. You’d find out once Satoru finished, and given how often he was moaning back there, you had a hunch that would be sooner rather than later.

You kind of wished you could see his face — how that pretty pale skin flushed with desire, how those dark pupils dilated within the eerie blue irises. After how he’d humiliated you, you wanted to see the proof of his desperation as well. But the sounds would have to suffice. Them and his increasingly tight grasp on your hips.

His arms vibrated with the strength it took to hold on, to not cum too soon. He clearly wanted to savor you a bit more before relinquishing you to the other man’s hands. Your back arched like a cat’s as his strokes brought you more and more pleasure with every blow.

The change in your posture prompted him to swivel his hips, to find a new angle that could brush against something else. He found what he sought in no time at all. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back as he slammed against that sweet spot within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered before you could stop yourself.

An annoying, breathy chuckle came from behind. “Right there, huh? That’s where you like it?”

Reluctantly, you nodded. To your surprise, he didn’t say anything else to mock you. He just kept drilling into you like his life depended on it.

The both of you started to pant. Your arms wobbled underneath you, barely able to support yourself upright. You knew you were fast approaching your own release alongside Satoru.

Sukuna released your jaw, and that was when you let yourself collapse. Your arms buckled, and your cheek squished against the couch. Satoru held you in place there, pounding into you even harder than he had been before.

You came first. It crashed over you in a sudden wave. You choked out a whine, your body tensing up under him as the bliss rolled through you. And he just kept going.

He had better stamina than you’d expected. You whimpered and squirmed beneath him, hoping he’d hit his high soon and let you get some relief. But he continued to hammer into you without hesitation.

Only when he’d battered you firmly into the depths of overstimulation did he finally let himself go. He slammed all the way in and shot rope after rope of sticky, hot release into you. It was a good thing you were on the pill. Not that they had bothered to ask. But really, why would they? You doubted they would be concerned about any potential problem that arose from this. They were in the business of making things — people — go away.

With a sigh, Satoru eased himself out of you. He gave you a pat on the hip before sinking back into the couch and pushing his now damp white hair out of his face.

You didn’t get the same chance at relaxation.

Before you could even roll onto your side, Sukuna had his fingers around your wrist. With a tug, he guided you into his lap. He’d sat down since letting you go. He’d also taken his shirt off, allowing you a clear look at his sculpted figure. Your hazy eyes raked along the muscles covered in scars and tattoos.

He laughed quietly at your obvious interest. His large hands took each of your thighs and spread them over his lap so that you were straddling him. It was nice in a way, to be maneuvered so gently. To be positioned like a doll, not having to exert any effort yourself. In the past, you would’ve thought it’d be something you hate. But in this situation, it didn’t feel so bad.

His hand splayed across your chest next. It kept you upright and looking at him.

“You look so pretty. Like you can barely remember your own name,” he mocked, a grin slowly spreading on his face.

The hand that wasn’t propped on your chest slipped down between your legs to grab his cock. He angled it upwards, dragging the head over your folds a few times, nudging it against your skin without actually entering. You squirmed a little at the feeling, slightly in discomfort but mostly in wanting what was being offered.

“Calm down. You’re gonna get used to this in no time,” he said. Threat or promise, you couldn’t really tell.

You were completely soaked between your thighs. The combination of your own arousal mixed with Satoru’s cum leaking out of you left a mess, but it had you slick enough that he slipped inside without issue.

Your eyes widened. It wasn’t just his size or the stretch but also the overstimulation that had your nails digging into his bicep. Strangled whines erupted from you as a weird, sweet sting settled in your center. He hushed you, the hand from your waist running up and down your back while he pushed his hips up.

“Shhh shh shhh, you’re a good girl, remember? You’ll get used to it,” he said, a sinister smirk across his face.

You squeezed your eyes shut, nearly doubling over from that tone alone. The physical sensation truly wasn’t that bad. Not as bad as you expected anyways. With a few deep breaths, you found yourself more comfortable. He was doing all of the work. It was just that fact that this was happening at all that knocked the wind out of you.

He continued to slide you all the way down on his dick. Once you were settled against his lap, ass flush against his thighs, he let you sit there for a minute. You stayed motionless on top of him, just taking in the raw feeling of him tucked inside you.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked. You looked up at him, at that fucking smile. “Think you can ride it for me?” he said.

You knew he was mocking, and you wanted to say yes, just out of spite. You wanted to push yourself up and bounce on his dick till he was moaning for you just like Satoru had been. But the fact that you could barely find the energy to get any response out told you that wasn’t a realistic possibility. So you shook your head no.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. He tugged you close to him. Your upper body landed against his chest with a small thud. “But that’s ok. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of it.”

He grabbed your hips and began lifting them up and down on himself with ease. His hips also rocked up into you from below. And you just let it happen like he told you to.

Your eyes drooped close and your grip on his arm became weaker. He was much quieter than Satoru, barely making any noise at all compared to the other man’s near-constant moaning and groaning. But you were quieter this time around too. Maybe it was the lingering effect of Satoru. Maybe your adrenaline was wearing off. But despite the pleasure swirling in your lower half, you felt almost floaty. Your brain felt like it had melted down into a small puddle that was slowly leaking from your ears.

“You’re gonna be a perfect fit around here,” he rasped. The words almost sounded divine, whispered into your ear from the heavens. “You might act up a little at first, but I know how to handle a brat. And you’re already showing how good you can be.”

It got no response out of you. You were in no shape to argue or disagree.

That didn’t matter to him though. He slammed up into you harder, getting a sharp gasp from you.

“I’m gonna have fun getting you to crack,” he said.

At that, you whimpered. If this was how it felt, there was a good chance you’d have fun too.

He kept thrusting up into you, pumping his own cock into your slick hole where Satoru had already spilled himself. You couldn’t keep track of how long it took for him to reach the peak too. Everything was in a fog right now. You heard yourself moaning, felt him fucking into you, but everything was distant. It was possible you came again, but overstimulation gave you a constant high so you couldn’t really tell.

But before you knew it, his breaths became heavier. His chest puffed against you at a quicker rate. His balls smacked against your ass with more force. You turned your face against his chest. You knew the end was near but every sense you had was so overwhelmed you could barely stand it.

He came with a quiet groan. The most noise he’d made the entire time. He fucked the warm fluid into you in the same way Satoru had. Maybe they’d shared someone before.

For a few minutes after finishing, he just sat there basking in the afterglow with you melted on top of him.

But then you felt a cool hand on your back. One that didn’t belong to Sukuna. Your eyes opened to find Satoru next to the both of you.

“Hey, princess. You ready for a nap?” he teased.

You whined and went to shove his face away even though, in truth, the answer was undoubtedly yes.

He just laughed, catching your hand and pulling your arm around his shoulder. Sukuna squeezed your hip before lifting you off of him completely and allowing Satoru to scoop you up like he had before.

“You did good for the first time. Let Satoru help you, and get some rest,” he said. He stood up, reaching for his clothes scattered around the floor.

You didn’t get the chance to say anything before Satoru was walking away with you in his arms. Lazily looking around, you saw he brought you into a small bedroom, just off the alcove next to where you’d been tied up.

He placed you on the bed gently and walked away to grab something. You watched as he grabbed a small towel before returning to you. With gentle hands, he cleaned up the mess between your legs. 

He confused you. Well really, they both did. While he was seemingly the more mean of the two, the one who’d tease and mock, the one who’d pound you into the couch without care for how it affected you, he was also the one coddling you, caring for you as though you were made of glass.

And Sukuna. Apparently he was the rough one, the least tolerant of bullshit, the one who’d threaten you about biting but mark up your neck like he was a wild animal, he’d been relatively gentle while you were on top of him.

It left you with a lot of questions, but you had the mental capacity for none of them right now.

“See, it’s not so bad here,” Satoru said while tending to you. “I’m sure you won’t love it right away, but you really will be a good fit soon enough.”

You stayed quiet at that. Whatever job they had planned for you after having their fun, you didn’t want to know. You couldn’t imagine doing something so polar opposite of everything you stood for. But would you give up your survival if that was the cost of refusing? You weren’t sure.

Soon enough, Satoru had wiped you thoroughly enough. He discarded the towel and smiled down at you for a second. His fingers came out and ran just along the bruise on your eye.

“I’ll bring you some ice for that. Just try to get some sleep for now. When you wake up, I’ll have them bring you some dinner. And we’ll be back to check on you later,” he said with a grin.

You didn’t bother asking who “they” were or where he and Sukuna were going or what they would do next. All would be pointless questions, and all you wanted to do now was sleep. You could think of a different angle for this when you woke up. But for now, you let your eyes close as the main door to the place shut. Vaguely, you heard the lock click into place.

[tanlakarix]

Improve customer interactions using voice solutions.

The COVID-19 outbreak has certainly put enterprise customer service to the test. The dramatic increase in the demand for customer-service teams to operate around the clock has caused some businesses to question their dependability, efficiency, and quality of service. During the epidemic, customer service was one of the hardest hit departments. Consumer needs and behaviors have shifted, and time is of the essence.

Because of the high volume of calls, the consumer faces numerous uncertainties. Long wait times, inaccurate agent transfers, and call prioritization are becoming commonplace. Customers leave calls and are dissatisfied because of an agent’s query-handling efficiency.

Contact centers and enterprise voice are both becoming more important in providing an omnichannel experience. Contact centers can handle a wide range of communications. It offers technical support through in-app chat or video, but the infrastructure costs far more than enterprise voice solutions. Enterprise voice solutions, on the other hand, can integrate with APIs that help streamline development. One of the most common issues consumers have is having to wait a long time for answers to their questions, but with a corporate voice solution IVR, all simple questions can be answered by a pre-recorded informative voice bot that can answer client questions with a few key presses. If a customer decides to continue the chat, he or she can hit a key to speak with a live agent. This will result in cost savings and increased productivity because only high-end inquiries will be handled by a live agent and a platform that can be coupled with CRM will be required.

Customers who try to communicate with businesses are likely to wish to do it in more than one language. Multilingual communication fosters cultural understanding and is regarded as an efficient method of conducting business. Multilingualism becomes critical when businesses desire to develop globally or reach domestic or rural consumers. To target each region, voice campaigns must be in the local language. As the familiarity and comfort factor rise, the consumer is more inclined to purchase things from a salesman who speaks the regional language.

Here are some examples of how voice services might supplement your current services and communication channels.

Enterprise voice products such as IVR, missed calls, outbound dialers, and click2call are critical in the early stages of customer engagement. These goods provide numerous tremendous benefits to both customers and businesses. These advantages include fast voice connectivity with comprehensive call control, which reduces operational expenses while improving cross-channel communications for your apps and services.

Personalized IVR and outbound dialer to promote interesting offers, as well as for feedback and surveys:

Karix Mobile worked with a leading e-commerce company to improve consumer contacts through the use of tailored Interactive Virtual Response (IVR) and outbound dialers. The client desired a combination of both communication methods that were coupled with analytics for sales reviews. When new promotional offers are announced, OBD calls are placed to their target clients to engage them in discussions about their purchasing needs. The corporation sees an increase in sales and collects data that demonstrates sales statistics. To supplement the OBD service, a multilingual IVR was also deployed based on customer preferences to handle any queries or provide feedback.

To improve operational efficiency, use voice OTP as a failover option.

Another classic case of Karix Mobile collaborating with a real estate consultancy: The purpose was to improve its two-factor authentication by using voice OTP if an SMS OTP was not delivered. It was vital for the client to ensure that critical communications reached the end user on time. The OTP is requested through a phone call as recorded voice, which prohibits copying. It is simple to set up because it can be customized with an AI-powered voice.

Confirmation of cash-on-delivery via missed call:

Logistics organizations and their delivery teams frequently want order certainty. This includes whether the customer confirms the order, whether it is canceled, whether they are available at the designated time and whether the order is dispatched on time. The logistics company worked with Karix Mobile to receive timely confirmations via missed calls. When parcels are shipped using cash-on-delivery, they must now make missed calls to the given number after the parcel is successfully delivered.

Payment reminders that increase the likelihood of recovery:

Recovery of late payments can be a time-consuming operation. The world’s leading financial services company partnered with Karix Mobile to send payment reminders via inbound calls. Financial organizations profit from decreased costs and higher payment rates. Payment reminder links can be embedded in WhatsApp Business Solutions by agents.

At quiet airports, voice calls reminders and updates are used to notify passengers of their boarding gate and time:

One of the world’s top five airlines cooperated with Karix Mobile to improve customer happiness through voice call reminders and updates. When the airports are silent, they use voice calls to transmit notifications if there is an emergency announcement or if there is a need to update passengers about changes in boarding gates or time.

IVR and call patching are simple solutions for dealing with high call volumes.

During the epidemic, only a few banks had extremely high call volumes. In such cases, an IVR solution can assist in resolving the issue and allow banks to manage them more efficiently. An IVR can answer the most frequently asked inquiries and resolve typical consumer issues. Account information, investment portfolio updates, and status, loan-related questions such as application, disbursement status, new passbook request, product information, and so on can be quickly resolved. To ensure customer satisfaction, the IVR can connect the call to an agent using the call patching capability if the customer needs additional assistance.

Businesses can use Click2Call to provide their customers with a consistent experience.

The popularity of click-to-call has grown in lockstep with the proliferation of mobile phones. Click-to-call buttons can be beneficial in chatbot applications, websites, and applications. An online pharmacy employed Karix Mobile’s contact management tool to improve client satisfaction. They can reach a bigger audience and save time by not having to dial a new number each time. Customers may obtain medications, schedule lab tests, get doctor consultations, and much more via phone.

End Thoughts

Because employees are increasingly working remotely, enterprise voice solutions help ensure business continuity and seamless communications. In addition to massage services, brands are increasingly thinking about IVR calls, outbound calls, missed calls, and click-to-call services to supplement their existing communication channels. The effective usage of enterprise voice and company organization will prevent customer loss during these trying times.

For More Info: Voice Solutions - Karix

[vultursvolans]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄: OCT 3RD

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yandere!dottore x assistant!fem reader

— ♤ 𝐜𝐰: obsessive yandere behaviour, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation, stalking, build up to smut is longish sorry, reader is gullible, dubcon, no preparation, pussy slapping (once), he calls you sweetheart, pet, pup, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, power imbalance, biting, 3.5k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It started with curiosity.

Maybe it was the softness in your voice as you confidently sat in his office, explaining why you would be perfect for the job, or perhaps the way you held onto the belief that he was a good person. But once Dottore saw how much you lit up when he offered you a position on the spot, he knew right then he needed to keep you close. 

This new revelation almost terrified him. 

Your voice was so innocent, clinging to him like honeysuckle, and that warmth behind your smile—it was too pure, too untainted. It had to be locked away before the world could tarnish it.

If you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed how his gaze lingered a little too long when you spoke; how his questions would dive deeper the more you got to know him.

You were ignorant of how much Dottore had deeply ingrained himself into every facet of your life, playing the role of the emotionally distant boss who eventually found comfort in your company. He saw that flicker of trust in your eyes and allowed you to believe you were the only person who could see the real him: the man behind the mask who bled his heart and soul to you when nobody else was looking.

Everything was calculated. Subtle. You had become his latest obsession—a sweet, little experiment where the only result he deemed acceptable would be having you wrapped around his finger. So he made sure he was the first you turned to when things went wrong, planting seeds of doubts about everyone you knew. 

“Forgive me but your friends don’t seem to understand you.”

At first, you dismissed his comments but over time his critiques took root. You saw flaws in people that seemingly weren’t there before which made you wonder if it was truly only Dottore who had your best interest at heart. Gradually, you began to rely on him as your only confidant. Your rock. But it didn’t stop at just your relationships. Dottore had inserted himself into your daily routine, providing solutions for problems you hadn’t realised he created. After minor inconveniences and projects falling through, he was always there to pick up the pieces.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

And every time he did, you felt more indebted to him.

Dottore strung you along for years, feeding you enough affection to have you tethered with him while subtly isolating you from others. And when he finally made you his girlfriend, it was less a declaration of love and more of a confirmation of his control over you.

But you didn’t need to know that. 

You are his precious masterpiece, sculpted into the ideal partner, no longer the person you once were but a reflection of his twisted desires. 

When calling him “Doctor” transitioned from a professional title to something you moaned whenever he plowed you with his cock, it was difficult for him not to start touching himself at random hours of the day. 

Fortunately for him, he could simply just find you while you were working and suddenly, there was something hard pressed against your ass! It always satisfied him a great deal knowing how willing you were to please him, no matter the time of day.  

Sometimes he pitied you for never catching on so the first time you went astray, he was somewhat glad that his little darling wasn’t so dense.

“Dottore, I’m finding it difficult to get through to you. I feel suffocated. I’m worried about us.”

He glanced up from his notebook, almost affectionately, “You’re overthinking it, my dear.”

“I think we need some time apart," your words tasted bitter. "I just… need to clear my head. I’m sorry,” you felt guilty for even suggesting it.

“Time apart?” he repeated with a false frown, dropping his book to look at you wholly. “For how long?’

“I’m not sure.”

A tense silence hung between you, and you tried to steady your breath.

“Darling, you’re not making any sense,” he blinked.

“It makes sense to me,” you protested, “I wasn’t asking.”

Truth be told, he was more amused than angered. Although, he wondered what it was that finally provoked your sudden notion. Sure, disagreements were more frequent but it had been so long since this all began. He thought his tactics would be something you were used to by now. Perhaps you were starting to see everything for what it truly was.

Perhaps not.

Your voice was trembling but you were firm in your resolve. Dottore liked that you thought you had a choice, so he entertained you by letting the last of his smile fade from his lips, eyes narrowing in your direction. 

“So a break, then? If you think that will benefit us, I understand. But I’m not a mind reader. If something bothers you, you have to tell me, okay?”

His words seemed to melt some of your worries away so you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Could you really doubt someone so patient, so willing to give you space when you needed it? 

“Really?”

“Of course," the lie effortlessly slipped between his teeth, "I respect your boundaries."

You nodded as you squeezed his hand and before you could turn away, his grip tightened. “Before you go, let me remind you that I love you, so very much.” 

And without warning, he kissed you. It was lingering, with no remorse, disguised as a parting gift—as if to say he knew you’d be back.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” you said, feeling conflicted. 

“Doing what?” He questioned.

Dottore knew exactly what he was doing. 

———

Weeks had passed but your time away from him was restless. Days felt semi-wakeful and what emerged was not clarity but the creeping sense that the world was conspiring against you.

It was like your life had taken an irreparable turn. Work became a constant setback, and friends you thought you had made you feel isolated and adrift. Even your home, which once felt cozy and safe, was starting to feel clinical and cold. 

And who would be the one to orchestrate your misery other than the Doctor himself? That vendor who suddenly couldn’t get your orders right? A bribe from Dottore. The neighbours who started fighting at all hours? A couple he had manipulated into conflict. Even your small office, a place that once made you feel so productive, now felt claustrophobic and stifling thanks to subtle changes he made while you were away.

Each of these inconveniences wore you down, making you long for the comfort and stability that only Dottore had ever provided. 

So when you received a short and carefully worded letter from him, asking how you were, you felt a surge of relief. You didn’t hesitate to see him that very evening, desperate to talk in person.

Before you knew it, you were falling right into his hands.

On your feet, you headed straight to the entrance of his lab and stared at the door before you gave a knock.

“Come in,” he said from inside.

The moment you saw him, he greeted you with that charming smile, and suddenly all the frustration from the past weeks melted away. You rushed into his arms, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you.”

He held you close, stroking the back of your head with practiced gentleness, “Ah! You’re finally back. I can’t say I’ve been happy without you.” 

If he was beaming out of satisfaction, you were blind to it. You were too distracted by the need to hear him say it back, to say that he missed you. But instead of the words you longed to hear, he merely held you tighter.

Looking up at him, your eyes searched for reassurance, “Did you miss me?”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “Of course.”

“Everything’s been so hard,” tears began to well up, “I can’t believe I distanced myself when I needed you the most.” 

He was always enthralled whenever he was right.

“Let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I’m here now so don’t fret.”

His words felt like a balm to your wounded soul and you clutched onto his coat as if he might vanish if you let go. You could not refuse him and he wouldn’t allow that option to exist. Dottore watched you, elated with himself, “Come,” he said, taking your hand towards his familiar private quarters, “I have something for you.” 

After closing the door behind him, his gaze remained on you, “I was hoping you would see me sooner rather than later,” he started, guiding you to the couch where the two of you sat. “We have much to catch up on.”

Dottore wore his grief convincingly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate crystal necklace that flickered like ice in the light, “I don’t want to lose you again.” Your heart skipped a beat as he put it on for you, the weight of it cold against your skin. When you relaxed your guard, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I can’t lose you. I won’t.” 

You thanked him for the gift but felt him craning your head to the side.

“It’s ice quartz," he purred, "For the pure love I have for you. For the healing that I hope it brings to your troubled heart. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, a thoughtful stillness, and without another word, he kissed the exposed skin of your neck as if you beckoned him to. 

His lips were impossible to resist, each kiss slowly claiming you as he trailed his way to your mouth. You allowed your hands to explore his hair, messing up the neatness that once was.

Dottore wasted no time, the moment his lips met yours, you felt his hungry tongue and how it tasted of false apologies and something sickeningly sweet. He kissed you like he was starved—like he'd wanted his mouth on yours for weeks.

"Do you still—" he lightly pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, "—feel suffocated?"

Yes, you wanted to say. But for an entirely different reason now. This type of suffocation made your head spin and left something tingling between your legs.

"No," you finally answered against him. A string of saliva connected the small space between your lips. You relaxed under him and he took it as a chance to shuffle himself between your thighs.

"Hmm, I'm glad," he smirked before forcing another kiss out of you. Between gasps for air, his impatient hands found the hem of your blouse, unbuttoning it as he pushed you on your back. You pulled him down with you because you refused to part from the sinful way his lips collided with yours.

Piece by piece, layers of clothes began to disappear until you were left with nothing except the necklace he had given you. 

Spread out like this, you were ravishing, like a fine piece of art and the sight of you went straight to his cock. It throbbed in his slacks and you could hear his breathing growing uneven. At that moment, he could’ve taken you like an animal but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Mmh!” you moaned in surprise as he cupped your breast, fondling your sensitive nipples and practically anywhere else that was available to him. He was so precise in everything he did, it was no wonder he was in his profession. 

The time you spent apart had left you already aching for him so when he dipped his fingers between your quivering thighs, he felt your arousal. You were hot and puffy and embarrassingly wet.

Dottore began to toy with your clit and it pulsed under the pads of his fingers. You moaned instantly. But he was excruciatingly light with his touch which only made you desperate for more friction. You whined and even though the sound of it made his heart beat quickly, his face was unreadable.

“Patience,” he urged. Dottore waited for you for weeks and you had the nerve to whine? At the very least you could have made up for the time you robbed from him. 

You intended to listen. You really did! But when his fingers teased the entrance of your hole, your body acted before you could think and suddenly, your hips rolled towards him. He had barely even touched you before he stopped. 

Tsk, you heard from him, clearly disappointed by your lack of control.

Instead of continuing, he gave your pussy a sudden slap which left you whimpering. 

“Why—!” You trembled, feeling its stinging aftermath.

Why?

Simply put, he decided he wasn’t going to bother with what you wanted. 

In exchange for running away from him, he would show you that not everything was served on a silver platter. Seeing you go from distressed to dependent on him only excited him more. No one riles him up in the way that you do so he couldn’t bear to wait a second longer. 

“Stay like this,” there was something deranged about the smile that appeared on his face. The clinical white glow of his quarters dulled his pale skin yet his teeth glistened through his lips. You felt a chill and it wasn't because of the cold air.

He pulled away and you were immediately drawn to the tight bulge pressing against his pants. Dottore noticed. He knew you were watching.

"Now open your legs for me," he said, breaking you out of your daze. You shifted pathetically under him so it was ultimately his large hand, splayed across your thigh that held you in place. You saw his erection twitch when his eyes fell on your hole, drenched for him and all.

After quickly undoing his trousers, he pushed his throbbing length inside you in one, deep stroke. Your hands curled into the cushions and you were prepared to scream—

"Perfect," he breathed. You didn't need proper preparation. He knew your body better than you did.  

Your voice was lodged in your throat as his girth stretched you apart and Dottore couldn’t help throwing his head back, curses falling from his lips at how well you hugged him. You were so beautiful like this. He couldn’t wait to fuck you back into obedience. It was your fault for being this way, really. You were just so malleable, so easy.

“Ah, look at you. So wet already, my little pup. Did you miss me that much?” 

“Yes, I did. Yes, I did, Doctor!” you whimpered, and he began thrusting as if rewarding you for your response. His hips slammed mercilessly into yours at an unexpected pace, and you couldn’t even think about any of your frustrations anymore. Each time he slid in and out was like erasing all the concerns you had before this. 

“Dottore,” he corrected you. “You call me by my name today.” There was a slight strain in his voice as he fucked you but that was better than what was going on with you. With each thrust bucking into your sweet spot, you could hardly talk. 

The coat on his back ruffled behind him with each erratic movement. It was almost humiliating how he remained entirely clothed as he rammed into you. Your bare skin was on display yet not so much as a zipper and his disheveled hair was out of place for him.

Maybe he was too eager, you thought. Or maybe it was because he wouldn’t strip himself for the likes of you. Not when he was trying to remind you that being with him was a luxury. What he needed to etch into your subconscious was: 

You could get whatever you want as long as you stay and listen. 

Huffing at the sensation of being balls deep inside your pussy, he held you with a bruising grip on your waist, fucking you in a way that had you drooling. You were trying to remember a time when he wasn’t the one making you happy or giving you pleasure—but you couldn’t. Because it didn’t exist. 

“Dott…ore,” you called breathlessly, your voice mixing with the sound of your necklace clinking against your chest. He knew you very well, you had more to say than just the spilling of his name. He could see it in your damn eyes. 

Lowering himself to your neck, he rutted you even further into the couch, “What is it, my dear?” He asked, biting into you, feeling his hot and heavy breath fanning your skin. You yelped as his teeth clenched, knowing there was going to be a mark later. 

“I… love… you…” The words came out in a broken whisper, the sincerity of your confession made his cock twitch inside of you, precum already painting the insides of your hole. 

His tongue began to trace a slow and deliberate path from your neck to your ear, keeping his relentless rhythm as he did. “Is that right?” There was a cruel edge to his voice when he spoke. And you nodded back at him, feebly. Truthfully. 

“Then act like it,” he hissed, grip tightening as he thrusted sharply.

You shuddered underneath him—out of fear or pleasure, you weren’t sure but you knew you didn’t want it to end. You pulled him closer, winding your hands around his neck while he was deep inside you. “I’m— sorry!” you moaned, an apology slipping out in a haze. 

He almost growled at the sensation of you trembling around him, his crimson eyes searing into you, “No, it’s not your fault. I should have paid better attention to you.”

Another lie but exactly what you needed to hear to keep you going.

Lewd squelching sounds filled the room as he reduced you to a filthy mess. Even in your years of being with him, you had never seen him so untamed. Your juices were getting all over his trousers and if you knew any better, you would've seen how he got off on that.

You had almost forgotten where you were, though, at that point, you didn’t care about whether anybody else in the building heard. He fucked you hard and desperately, whatever he needed to do to keep his darling at bay, and you shamelessly cried out his name over and again. It was adorable.

“Dottore… I’m close—! Fuck. Fuck!” You swallowed your words as he pounded you. 

"Dirty mouth," he grunted, "Who taught you how to speak like that?"

He hovered above you, so close you could almost feel his hair tickling your face. "Nobody," you moaned quietly this time, feeling ashamed.

Every veiny inch of him was inside you and the more you felt of it, the less you thought. You just wanted to snap, to cum on him while he drove into you.

“Oh my, you're getting tighter,” he cooed, his voice deceptively gentle as he neared his own release. “Feeling good, sweetheart? Finish with me then…” 

Fortunately—or unfortunately, his pace became rougher, like a repeated reminder of who he was to you and his hand traveled to your jaw, tipping your head to meet his gaze. Amid your bodies thrashing, he could barely keep up with his own voice,

“No one will ever love you like me

or care about you like me

or fuck you like me. Do you understand, pet?” 

“Yes—! Yes, I do,” you panted as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips further into your sloppy cunt. In your lust-clouded daze, you were too weak to register the weight of his words. His sultry voice did a great job at masking the fact that he meant every single thing he said. 

Dottore’s face twisted into a more sadistic smile, letting his thoughts get the best of him. He relished in how little and helpless you sounded, how utterly pliant you were to his will. Everything felt right again and you were back to where he had woven you. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, he spilled his seed inside you, locking himself against you. 

You arched your back as your orgasm crashed simultaneously—you moaned collectively, and your walls pulsed around his cock like you were milking every drop he’s got. His hips stuttered, not giving a damn about the way your nails bit into his skin. Instead, he slammed his lips onto yours, devouring you in a messy, filthy kiss—a perfect match for the way he had just fucked you senseless.

Still panting, he clutched the side of your face, only gentler now. His thumb stroked your cheek as if savouring the moment of seeing you act the way you should.

“I love you,” he hummed, the words slipped from his lips like it was so natural to him. "I love you."

Of course, he loved you. Everything he has done for you was for himself. Everything has been catered to him. 

His sweat-speckled forehead shimmered in the dim light and as you looked up at him, your heart softened. The weight of him on top of you and the comfort in his embrace made you forget everything, lulling you into a peaceful state. 

You sighed, feeling a bit foolish for even creating a wall between you. In front of you, he seemed so fragile, like you were the only thing holding him together. How could you have thought he was anything but honest with you all along?

Now, everything felt perfect—perfect in a way that left no room for anything else. 

No room for doubt or escape.

a/n: imagine at the end of this you think it's over and suddenly his segments walk in

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers by @/astrumaur

[torusonicpilled]

can we know more about the future au👀👀❓️

Alright I've been waiting for this, get ready for a really long lore dump... (click on keep reading so I don't clutter up the tags)

Future AU takes place 200 years after when-ever the main events of the game are. This would make Shadow 215 years old and Sonic 216 years old. Sonic: Sonic was created by a cult of former ARK scientists who wanted to create a version of Shadow specifically to be a weapon and without the Black Arms DNA. They used the DNA of a god and were successful (obviously.) However, Sonic at one point lost control of his power and destroyed everything, this event made him lose his memory. The first thing he saw when he woke up was the nature around him, creating his free-spirited nature (contrast to how Shadow woke up seeing Maria for the first time.) All this lore is here to explain why Sonic is immortal. However because Sonic is immortal and the public is unaware of this, and basically the gods have their own secret cult that gave Sonic an ultimatum. Basically he could A) Die at around 40 but keep his freedom, however the earth he loves may one day be destroyed due to the lack of him protecting it. B) He lives long enough (around 110) for people to realize he is immortal like Shadow, and not wanting to waste their best protector against the planet, seals him away, freezing him and only take him out when they need him to save them, or C) fake his death and continuing living, but lose his humanity, never being able to be “Sonic the Hedgehog” again. Sonic also never made this choice, as Shadow was the one who decided. Shadow feels guilt over this even if Sonic has gotten over it at this point. 

Sonic goes through a major depression in the years 110-150, as he basically loses his identity and is struggling with that. Sonic eventually finds some old outfit Shadow has in the closet, and uses it to become a masked figure called “S.” He now saves people under S, his speed being from “technology” and a voice modulator hiding his voice. Sonic is insanely powerful in the future, so people start equating him to a “legendary hero” who only appears when a threat too strong shows up. (like how Silver acted when talking about Whisper in IDW #8.) 

Sonic still has a lot of his immature traits personality wise, however he is a lot smarter when it comes to combat, having experience in situations, as well as being extremely overpowered. 

Shadow: Due to Shadow being the ultimate lifeform, he’s allowed to still be in public and shows his face. Shadow leaves G.U.N after Rouge retires, as Team Dark disbands. Once Rouge dies, Shadow spends a lot of time with Sonic, as Sonic is going through it being dead in all but name. 

Around 130-140, Shadow created “Maria’s Solutions,” his own private organization for helping people. Shadow is someone people go to when people can’t go to police or other organizations for help. He accepts help from almost any client, however he is often avoided by the worst as his power is terrifying. Shadow is now a detective, negotiator, and bounty hunter all in one, as he is more knowledgeable and collected now. 

After Eggman's death, Shadow adopted Sage at his request, not having it in him to bring her offline. Sage has a duplicate robot body but she prefers to spend time with him on Shadow's phone. She helps him out in missions, with hacking and tech related problems. 

Shadow has other employees for Maria’s Solutions, however I’m still working on them. Main ideas include an innocent girl similar to Maria he’s taken a soft spot to, a robot like Omega who works as a maid around their house, etc. 

Silver: Silver will occasionally come back to check in on Shadow. Due to the deal they made, Silver can’t know Sonic is alive. However, due to a mishap, Silver finds out and becomes friends with S. Sonic likes spending more time with Silver so he hides this fact from Shadow, sometimes going on missions with Silver. 

Other info

Sonic and Shadow aren’t important to this world. Lots of organizations and people fight in this world, thus leaving Sonic to deal with world ending threats and Shadow his clients. Organizations include

Technology conglomerates

A church that worships Gaia

The restoration

Militaries

Sonic and Shadow are married with rings pierced in their ears, however they do not like to define relationships. 

Anyone who Shadow trusts enough will meet Sonic by accident, but calls him “S” either way. 

Knuckles can be spoken too by connecting with the master emerald, which is underneath Sonic and Shadow’s house in an underground facility. 

Tails reincarnates when he dies with an extra tail, however he gets his memories from his last 100 years only if he meets Sonic. They don’t meet until 130ish, where Sonic agrees to wait until Tails is 20 every time before he hunts for him. (this part I’m still working on.)

Sonic is a jack of all trades who can use any weapon to fight as he likes to switch it up. Shadow uses a gun and sword combo along with his chaos abilities. 

AU is more comedic despite the somber tone, as Sonic and Shadow are still Sonic and Shadow at the end of the day.

Well that was a lot but if you want more info send me another ask with more questions for me to answer

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

-

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

[yandere-wishes]

✮⋆˙Red Hood and The Big Bad Wolf ˙⋆✮

⭒⌒★ Yandere! Jason Todd x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓤 ♡ ｡ ゜

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

*ੈ✩‧₊ Thinking about how similar Red Hood is to Little Red Riding Hood, not just in name but also in practice. At their core, they are both things, red things, that survive. Reborn from the lugubre maws of death, forced to live another day, carrying baskets weaved of anguish and instability.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason keeps the old picture book tucked in his jacket pocket. He can't quite remember where he found the fickle thing. Can't remember why he chose such an evanescent tale to cling to.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly why he runs his fingers over his inside pocket after every fight, just to make sure the eccentric fable is still in place. Maybe it's because he understands Red Riding Hood. Knows what she's been through, what it feels like to have your innocence stripped like skin being torn from bones. To be killed and revived all in the same breath. Maybe it's because he wants to know what happens next. What happens when Little Red learns to breathe again? He wants to ask her, beg her to tell him. To be the solution to all his problems.

*ੈ✩‧₊ "How do you swallow the trauma? What do you do with the phantom pain of your heart's reanimation? How do you make the darkness go away? Did you come back the same?

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is only one thing that makes them differ. One fundamental little thing...

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason doesn't mind the wolf. Pretty pup prowling about. He blames it on his upbringing. He'd been taught to fall in love with such wicked things. From as early as he can remember he's watched bats chase cats across gargoyle-littered rooftops. Watched pretty girls throw themselves at bleached killers. That's why he's quick to be enarmed with the new villain terrorizing the Gotham streets. The girl in a wolf mask, planting bombs in jewelry stores and biting off her victim's ears.

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is nothing scary about the big bad wolf, Red Hood thinks, as he re-reads the page where the wolf and girl meet. Why fear pain when you've been to the end of the road? Why fear something when you're acquainted with its ending?

*ੈ✩‧₊ "Shouldn't wolves only come out when there's a full moon?" He swings in from the skyline, ironclad military boots lodging into your stomach pushing you back into a glass display case. "That's werewolves you idiot" you mumble out of breath, glass shards pocking at your spine. The ticking of your newest explosive rings melodically through the air. He's quick to cut the wires, to defuse your toy without a second thought. Professional you think bitterly as you pounce on his back looking for an opening of flesh to sink your teeth into.

*ੈ✩‧₊ The thing they don't tell you about dying is that you always come back wrong. Primordially, spiritually, the person who closes their eyes, is never the same one who opens them again.

But Red Riding Hood was lucky, her story ended before she realized that dreadful thing. Jason has to deal with it every day, the reverberating scars, the colorless world that fractures and breaks should he let his mind wander astray. The fact that his heart only ever truly beats when he sees the fluffy ears of your cowl and that damn bloodthirsty smirk.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason Todd who's only brave enough to call it love after you stake a knife through his heart. The bulletproof vest and armor keep the damage away, but he can see the murderous intent shimmering in your eyes. It's only then that he pulls you down by the back of your neck. Lips to lips, a messy clash of anathema and apprehension. Your teeth gnaw at his lips while his tongue composes ballads on the roof of your mouth.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He wonders if Little Red ever went back for the wolf. If she ever dares kiss him with all the pain and anguish she has left in her body. Nicking her tongue on his razor-sharp teeth. Guiding his claws to ghost over her frail body. He wonders if the wolf can even hurt her. There's so little left that can hurt you when you've already felt the end.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He knows you stalk him, follow him even during the day. Sometimes he pulls you into the back alleyway. Knife at your throat as he soaks up your ethereal face. Mask on, mask off. In the end, you'd have found out anyway. His hands squeeze at your hips, needing the flesh, leaving his essence over your body. His lips danced over the back of your neck, biting tenderly at the apex of your shoulder.

*ੈ✩‧₊ You seem to like it when his knife cuts deep. When his punches crack bone. When his boots crush you into the pavement. You throw your head back and laugh, witty little threats spilling from your mouth. So this is love he thinks as your claws rake over his biceps ripping the muscle like ribbons, rummaging through the blood and tissue in search of bone. "Poor little puppy" he mocks "looking for a bone to chew on". "Shut up you tomato-looking freak" you scream as his teeth sink into your jaw, crunching of bone.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He thinks you look gorgeous when you're irritated, he thinks you're beautiful when your bloodthirst seeps through the anger. He bites back a moan as your knee nests into his gut.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Did Little Red ever talk to her mother again? Or did she hold a grudge, haunted by her betrayal of sending her into the woods unarmed, heartbroken that she never came looking for her? Jason's thoughts pound inside his head, picture-book illustrations flash before him of Little Red pushing her mother away, of tears streaming down her face, screaming, screaming, screaming. He hisses as his lacerations burn. Hand suspended, pushing down the urge to knock on his father's door. Bruce would know what to do...he always knows what to do. It's such a childish notion, he clings to. Even now, even after he was killed and left un-avenged Jason still wholeheartedly believes in the notion that Daddy will fix everything...He's halfway to the entrance gate when Bruce alls after him, cadence thick with grief and ache. Jason doesn't turn back, he runs and runs and runs.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who crashes through your apartment window. Pushes you back onto the bed and lies next to you as you squirm and scream. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist and nuzzles into the crux of your neck. Mumbling Little Red Riding Hood's tale until you fall asleep. "How did You know I love the story?" you ask, the next morning to the empty half of your bed. Last night's tremulous dread still laying heavy on your corpse.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who lays on his window seal, watching as the sun pokes through Granny Red's face. It's funny isn't it, in such a twisted way didn't he also die in his grandfather's house? Only to be reborn while he watched? Didn't the same thing happen to Little Red?

*ੈ✩‧₊ That night Jason dream he's was walking through the grass, headed for the forest behind Wayne manner. He's trapped inside his jejune body, the body of a boy wonder. Clutching a basket with a crowbar inside as dread dances in his stomach. His old red cape taut around his neck, suffocating, skin-tight. He's forgotten how to breathe, puerile fear of those ghoulish old trees clawing at his body. Through the dimness, through lose rays that escape the moon's greed he's able to spot you. Weaving through the bushes and trees, stalking closer and closer. He doesn't know whether to meet you halfway or retreat. Frozen like a robin being pounced on by a sickly smiling cat. His eyes meet yours, right before you attack.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who misses you, when he doesn't catch you on patrol, of course, he misses you, it's hard not to miss a broken bone. Hard to feel the sting of your wounds and forget who put them there.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason finally realizes that he just can't bear to be away from you. This love, this mania, it's all for you. He needs you. He's got you corned, the end of a chase. You smile, all teeth and games, "You're pretty when sulk" you whisper, tracing claws up his chest, digging into the space between each ridge. "Oh really? How can you tell when I got this helmet on?" You laugh, coy and flirtish "I just do" you shrug. Pulling his helmet up, lips ghosting over his in a mockery of a kiss. Jason pushes forward, entraping your lips against his. Lost in intimacy he's quick to grab you, to drag you back to his apartment, to lock the doors and throw away the key. To keep the big bad wolf where she belongs, right next to Little Red Riding Hood.

   

🎀I feel like every Batson deserves a villainess to fall in love with. Let's call this one WolfWoman. TBH I feel like I want to write more for her in the future.