#character tags are in order from left to right

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's a new week

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 

You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 

"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 

"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 

"You busy, doll?" 

"Reading but... no." 

"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 

He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 

"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 

"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 

"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 

"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 

"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 

You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 

You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 

You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 

"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 

"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 

"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 

"Oh, uh..." 

"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 

You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  

You hug yourself shyly and sway. 

"Let me see ya," he orders. 

You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 

"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 

"I... really?" 

"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  

He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  

"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 

"Bucky," you squeak.  

"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 

You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 

"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 

"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 

"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."

"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."

"No, just a show," you wisp out.

You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 

"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 

"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 

"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 

He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 

"Yes," you answer softly. 

"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 

"Very handsome," you eke out. 

"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 

"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 

"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 

You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" He laughs. 

"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 

"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow," you confirm. 

"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 

🃏

The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 

You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 

Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  

You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 

Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 

Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 

"I know this one," you say. 

"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 

"Good, you, sir?" 

He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 

You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 

As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 

You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 

You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 

He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 

"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 

"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 

You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  

You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 

You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 

You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 

"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 

"Uh, I think? My name is..." 

She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 

You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  

You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 

The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 

You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 

You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 

You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 

There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 

'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 

You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 

"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 

She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 

"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 

"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 

"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 

You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you. 

[festering-bacteria]

hehegege lps human designs except highschool version

[thsc-confessions]

"Every like month or so, a new background THSC character pops into my head and stays there until the next one comes around. For some reason, some characters stay there even if I don't like them. Those ones being Kev Portly, Gene Fredrickson, Gary Mann, and Gadget Gabe (if he even counts)"

"Why? I don't know. Someone please help me, what's wrong with my brain-" submitted by anon

[shigayokagayama]

honest question: is there any reason you tag all posts as both "mp100" and "mob psycho 100"? i rarely see people tag a series with more than 1 name variant, especially on reblogs as opposed to original posts, and it made me curious

its a habit i started in another fandom which had an acronym people use less and just kind of stuck, its like muscle memory now i feel weird if i dont do it

[jiiyawns]

late, but, 3 4 5 6 & 27 for the sonic asks!

it's never too late to send me asks :3c

3. how long have you been a sonic fan?

oh god okay so my sonic origin story is that when i was around 11 or 12 i caught some of satam then ended up binging all of it, then found out that it half continues in the comic series and binged ALL of archie (by that point they were at least 220+ issues in along with the side series like sonic universe, so when i say all i meant ALL of it) ... so by all technicalities it's been a little over a decade now

back then tho i didn't do anything like draw or look for fanart or read fics specifically for sonic (aka like, "fandom consumption" i suppose), so it feels kinda weird to say it's been that long even tho it's true !! i saw a weird little blue guy sayin shit like "way past cool" and "gotta juice" and i was like oh i have to find out what his deal is actually

4. favorite male characters?

sonic characters are forever playing spinball in my brain to determine who's my favorite but im what you call a basic bastard and tend to enjoy main characters/protags/main cast of most media i consume and sonic is no different (ofc there are times where side charas become my favorite but. well. not this series)

runner ups include tails my boy my little guy my buddy pal amigo and goddamn ANTOINE IS ONE OF THE CHARACTERS I MISS THE MOST FROM FREEDOM FIGHTERS

5. favorite female characters?

when i was younger i thought blaze was so fucking cool, i would always pick to play as her for mario and sonic at the olympic games LMAOO she was by far my favorite kinda overall as a child ...

now im a misogynist /j i just tend to like a lot of the male cast over the female cast (which. well. it doesn't help that there's a lot more male characters and a lot more focus on them anyhow) the comics really tend to add a lot more cool female charas to help that out... i fucking Love bunnie and sally still, tangle and whisper from idw have really been getting up there + surge's design is so good

6. favorite games?

shy emoji i already answered this one with my confession i haven't played any sonic games hehe. teehee. tho i suppose if u count the olympic games one that's the only one on my resume for realsies so far </3 my favorites are based on plot and stuff like visuals .... i'm expecting sonic frontiers to become my first sonic game but i've also been meaning to play sa2 on steam whenever i get the video game urge again i've been slacking as a gamer

27. what do you like about the fandom?

sonic fandom is like. notorious. as we all know GJKLDGAS so i like to poke fun and stuff about it pretty often ... especially the more gamerbro side of it (the side that instantly panned frontiers as shit based on the first footage we ever saw of it that only really showed a bit of environment and movement. u know)

but it's genuinely such a passionate fanbase, like the sheer amount of fans and the amount of fanworks is always so astounding to me. it's notorious but that's probably because people care so much yknow ... people feel things A Lot for sonic as a series. if someone told me sonic has the most video game mods and fangames Ever i would fully believe that

+ fanart, fics, WHOLE animations and animated series and like the fucking sonic and tails radio my beloved and stuff ... so much is made every day even during lull periods between games or nothing rlly happening. crazy shit! people LOVE that goddamn hedgehog!!! so many people like it enough to MAKE stuff for him!!!!!! insanity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[satosugusandwich]

His Angel and His Brat

Part 1!!! Part 2

Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader

(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)

Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.

CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((

There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.

Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.

But.

“Suguru!”

Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.

“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.

Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?

“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”

You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.

“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”

Suguru is evil.

“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.

He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”

You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.

“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.

“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.

“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”

Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.

“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.

Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.

As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.

Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.

Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”

“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.

Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.

“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.

Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.

Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”

Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”

Uh oh.

Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.

Suguru waits to see his reaction.

And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”

“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.

Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”

Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”

Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.

“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”

What?

You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.

Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”

[hisui-dreamer]

love will find a way

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 3.6k+

Notes: for cohesiveness sake, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Yoshikazu (義和) with 義 meaning "righteous" and 和 meaning "harmony, peace"

your son had straight strawberry-red hair and greyish-blue eyes that reminded you of the stormy skies

Riddle's strong belief in upholding the rules, as well as his desire for peace and order, made the name perfect for your boy

he strives for perfection in everything he does, and has a strong attention to detail and dislikes anything that falls short of his high standards

he is slightly shy with strangers, but he's always polite and tries to be helpful

he likes to act mature so you won’t have to worry too much about him, but he not so secretly craves your affection and praise

if you don’t give him a goodnight kiss, he’ll stare at you with puppy eyes thinking he did something wrong

under your guidance, he’s actually rather helpful in the kitchen, although he can easily get upset when he thinks he did a poor job or wasn’t precise enough

in those moments, you often show him that not everything has to be absolutely perfect

see? the strawberry tart still tastes delicious, right?

he’s also rather quick at learning, and when you’re unsure about the magic concepts or formulae in your foggy memory, let him work at it for a bit and somehow, boom, he’s solved it

he tries to hide it, but his eyes are sparkling with admiration when you told him about the dedicated and fair man Riddle is, and he really wants to meet him

and through his hard work, he teleports the two of you into a well-lit and organised office, with stacks of papers placed neatly on the desk

Riddle sits at the desk, his face more angular having lost his baby fat, but his gaze remained as intense as it always had

Riddle meticulously reviews a case file, his focus unwavering as he flips through the pages. Suddenly, a swirl of iridescent light materialises in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He pushes himself away from the desk, knocking his chair backwards with a thud as he stands up, watching in disbelief as you emerge from the ethereal portal, a small boy clinging onto you tightly.

"My Rose…is it...is it truly you?" Riddle's voice wavers with a combination of astonishment and longing. His stormy grey eyes lock onto your gaze, searching for confirmation that this was indeed real.

His heart swells with a surge of emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He takes hesitant steps forward, closing the distance between you. As he reaches out a trembling hand, he hesitates for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close.

"I've missed you so much," Riddle whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I've yearned for this moment, to hold you again, to see your face."

after the heartfelt reunion, Riddle leaves work early and takes a holiday, something he has never done before for reasons other than sickness

he takes the two of you back to his house and you spend some time catching up

he’s become a successful lawyer, having deviated from the path his mother had intended for him

that, along with his refusal to be in an arranged marriage by her will, has him basically disowned

but he’s happy with where he is in life, only he wished to find a love as fulfilling as the one he had with you

now that you’re back, Riddle does everything he can to support you in adjusting to life back with him

he’s super expressive and affectionate and savours every moment he has with you

he does get a little jealous of Yoshikazu getting all your affection, and this has resulted in all three of you sleeping together cuddled up

Riddle tries to learn how to cook because he can’t be worse than his son right??

wrong

but the two of them do get along really well, Riddle loves reading bedtime stories to Yoshikazu, and Yoshikazu tries so hard to stay awake till the end

Yoshikazu also loves visiting uncle trey’s bakery!

eventually, he might try to reconcile with his mother and have her meet the two of you, but his priority is on the two of you

Riddle's eyes show a mix of emotions, a kaleidoscope of love, regret, and gratitude. He bends down, his hands trembling, to meet Yoshikazu's gaze. A cascade of emotions surges through him as he realises the precious bond he had unknowingly missed out on.

"My child," Riddle whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "I never imagined..."

Yoshikazu reaches out a tiny hand, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Riddle's heart melts as he gingerly takes his hand, feeling an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness.

"Father?" Yoshikazu's voice was a gentle whisper, filled with innocence and trust.

Riddle's eyes shimmer with tears that threaten to spill over. He carefully extends his hand, allowing his small fingers to intertwine with his own.

"Yes," Riddle replies, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "I am honoured to be your father. I will protect you, guide you, and cherish you always, my precious bud."

Koushi (功志) with 功 meaning "a success, a great achievement" and 志 meaning "purpose, will, determination, aspiration, ambition"

your son had sleek dark hair that reminded you of the night sky, and bright cyan eyes

Deuce placed great importance on personal growth and the pursuit of success, valuing hard work and the satisfaction that comes from achieving one's goals, so you implemented those values into your son's name

he takes his tasks and activities seriously and is motivated to excel in everything he does

but at the same time, he also struggles with being patient and occasionally becomes frustrated when things don't go his way

there are many times you’re trying to console him, and he’s just standing there, fists clenched and trying to hold back tears

when you rub the back of his head though, he melts and starts crying into your chest

he can be impulsive and mischievous, but once the high passes, he’s apologising and he really didn’t mean to hurt anyone or anything

just like his father, his favourite food is egg dishes, so it’s not difficult cooking for him

generally, he’s not picky and gobbles up anything you make him except vegetables

yeahh, the vegetables are going to need some convincing, and he’ll make a big show about how he hates the taste, but still reluctantly swallows his greens

he’s not the brightest, but he strives to be the best he can be, eagerly practising and studying magic concepts, though he faces some challenges in grasping complex concepts quickly

he became so curious when you told him how much his father valued hard work, asking question after question to learn more about him

and through trial and error, somehow, he managed to teleport you to a street of residential buildings, the fresh scent of roses filling your senses

and Deuce stood in shock in front of you, looking more mature and yet still possessing that dorky lovable presence

Deuce, donned in his crisp uniform, patrols the streets with a focused gaze. As he turns a corner, his eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. There, before him, stands the silhouette of a familiar figure, obscured by the shimmering waves of nostalgia, accompanied by a small boy.

"Prefect… I’m not dreaming, am I?" Deuce murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of vulnerability. His pulse quickens, and he takes a tentative step forward, his hands trembling with both trepidation and longing.

Tears well up in his eyes as you nod, a mixture of emotions playing across your face. The weight of your absence suddenly lifts, and without a second thought, Deuce closes the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.

"You're here. You're really here," Deuce whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He presses his forehead against yours, savouring the moment and the warmth of your presence.

once Deuce has calmed down, he takes you back to his house, where he lives with his mom to take care of her more

Deuce has become a successful police officer, and he’s decided to work in his hometown to keep the neighbourhood safe for his mom

after a quick introduction to Mrs. Spade, she’s very happy to meet you and her grandson

though she does glare at Deuce for a bit given you had to raise Koushi alone

she immediately starts gushing over Koushi and how similar he is to Deuce when he was a kid

Koushi is a little confused, but you can tell he loves listening to his grandmother and hearing about his father as an infant

Deuce can’t just leave his job whenever he wants to, but he dedicates all of his free time to the two of you

after work, he’ll take Koushi on runs, and sometimes they’ll pick a bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby field to give to you and Mrs. Spade

on weekends, you often go on family outings, like visiting the aquarium, camping, or visiting old friends!

uncle ace is Koushi’s favourite, teaching him magic tricks and telling him all the embarrassing things Deuce did back in NRC

and though Deuce had never prepared himself for parenting, he’s doing his best and making sure the two of you are happy, just like he is with the family all together

Deuce breaks the embrace and drops to one knee, his eyes meeting the Koushi's. A mixture of awe and tenderness dances in his gaze as he extends a hand toward the small boy. "Hey there, little guy. I'm your dad. My name's Deuce. What’s your name?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Koushi steps forward, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Deuce's hand. "Koushi," he answers meekly. A spark of connection passes between them, a shared understanding and an unspoken bond.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he continues, his voice filled with a mix of joy and remorse. "Koushi, I'm sorry it took me so long, to be the father you deserved. But from this moment on, I promise you, I'll be there for every step of your journey. We'll make up for lost time together, yeah?"

Akuru (渥瑠) with 渥 meaning "kindness, moisten" and 瑠 meaning "lapis lazuli"

your daughter had clear aquamarine eyes that reminded you of the sparkling ocean, and silver locks that curled naturally to frame her face

Azul had always adhered to the spirit of benevolence, so the name seemed perfect

she's quite a shy little girl, when she's in front of strangers, she'll ask you to carry her so she can hide her face in your neck

there's no way you can resist when she's staring at you with such bright eyes, her tiny arms reaching up for you to hold her

she's extremely greedy for affection just like Azul was once he let his guard down around you

she has the squishiest cheeks!!!

she also tends to observe and listen rather than being the centre of attention

but when she's alone with you, it's evident she inherited Azul's sharp intellect and has a natural aptitude for academics

you often told her about the brilliant man her father is, how hard he worked so he could become a version of himself he was proud of

the way her eyes sparkled when she heard about him reminded you of Azul's ambitious looks when he's making deals

incredibly talented at magic, she understood everything so quickly and it wasn't too long until you couldn't be much help to her anymore

but worry not, because she has brought the two of you back to your dearest lover by some accident in her experiments

Azul is sitting in a dimly lit office, his dark eye circles are evident, but he looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him

Azul sits at his desk fully engrossed in work, his quill gliding swiftly across the parchment. A sudden gust of magic sweeps through the air, causing Azul to stand in alarm, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. But as the magical energy settles, his hand freezes mid-air, his eyes widening in disbelief as your figure emerges.

His breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It... can't be... Can it?", he whispers as he manoeuvres himself over to you, his legs trembling as if it was his first time on land.

You reach out to take his hand, your familiar warmth and presence casting away the doubt in him. His eyes well up with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across his face.

"Oh, Angelfish... You're here...", he cries as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

he's so emotional he can't stop crying

it's to the point where his tears are slightly inky

he wishes he was in his merform so he could hug the two of you properly at the same time

it's at this point jade and floyd bust into the room to see the three of you huddled together on the floor

the two of them start teasing Azul for being a crybaby, but you can tell they're genuinely happy for him

Azul, as he had planned back in NRC, had conquered all forms of business, forming an incredibly successful corporation

now that he has the two of you back though, he immediately takes a break from work so he can make up for the time lost

Azul's a bit awkward, and he's so afraid you've found someone new or don't love him anymore

but with time, and plenty of your affection, he's loving and comfortable and completely at ease with you, just like the old days

he uses this break to spend time together with you two as a family, going on family outings, discovering hobbies, etc.

takes the two of you to the coral sea to meet mama ashengrotto

oh she loves you and can't stop spoiling Akuru

he makes a lot of effort to be present in Akuru's life, and he wants nothing more than for her to be happy

and fortunately, Akuru is very comfortable with Azul, though it takes time for her to trust him on the same level as you

but you've got all the time in the world to love and grow with your dear family now

bonus: uncle jade and uncle floyd who always bring out the ambitious side of Akuru!

Azul's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the small girl peeking from behind your legs, his heart swelling with a love he had never thought possible. Akuru's innocent eyes meet his, mirroring his own shades of blue.

"Hello, Akuru," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe. He crouches down to her level, his eyes locked with hers. "I... I'm your father. It’s nice to meet you."

Akuru's small hand reaches out, hesitantly brushing against his cheek. The touch sends shivers down Azul's spine, his heart bursting with overwhelming emotions. Tears spill freely down his cheeks as his arms wrap around her fragile frame.

"I've missed so much... I'm so sorry," Azul says, his voice laced with remorse. Akuru nestles closer, burying her face in the crook of Azul's neck, as if instinctively seeking solace in the embrace of her father. "Oh, I promise you, my dear, I will make up for lost time. I will protect you, love you, and be the father you deserve."

Misaki (望咲) with 望 meaning "ambition, hope, desire" and 咲 meaning "bloom, blossom, flourish"

your daughter had silky blonde, hair and violet eyes reminded you of the lavender plant Vil kept in his room

you knew through Vil's dedication towards beauty and his strictness that he values hard work and effort, and so you named your daughter hoping she would flourish in whatever ambitions she pursued

like her father, she carries herself with a certain regal air that’s beyond her age

she's incredibly strict with herself, though occasionally you'll have to tell her to relax a bit and be more carefree

she listens to you a lot though, she loves making her mommy proud!

and though she might put up a front and act confident with strangers, when she's alone with you, she's surprisingly docile and affectionate

she is enchanted by the media and drawn to acting, always reenacting scenes from movies or shows you watched with her

she asks for bedtime stories every night, but it’s more of the two of you doing a dramatic reading and playing around with character voices

she also loves to play around with different hairstyles and outfits, and even experimenting with your makeup

though she’s rather displeased with her lacklustre makeup skills, she loves it when you do her makeup for her, making her feel like a star

she’s incredibly smart and fast to pick up on the magical concepts, though she’s slower with practical magic

when you told her about the meticulous and dedicated man her father was, she was fascinated by how confident and strong he sounded

and with diligent practice, it isn’t long before she manages to teleport you to a well-lit room with a modern design

Vil is sitting on the couch studying his latest movie, his hair is in a messy bun and he is wearing glasses and he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen

As Vil stares at the television analysing his performance, the tranquillity of the moment is abruptly shattered by a sudden burst of light. His heart skips a beat as he turns towards the source, his eyes widening in disbelief. There, standing before him, is the person who had occupied his thoughts and dreams for the past years, with a sweet-looking child next to them.

"Is it really you, darling?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He takes a hesitant step forward, his polished facade momentarily crumbling as he reaches out to confirm the reality of your presence.

Your eyes meet, and in that instant, a whirlwind of emotions surged through his being, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself.  "It's... it's been so long," Vil's voice cracks with raw emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I've missed you every day, every moment."

Vil is the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, even when you had bid each other farewell at the mirror, he had been more composed

but here he’s completely vulnerable and crying tears of joy

once he’s calmed down a bit, he immediately calls his manager to reschedule whatever plans he had because of ‘family emergencies’

since you left, vil has been completely invested in his acting career and has landed a few roles as the main character, though some of them were still villainous

he’s super affectionate and relaxed with you, always instinctively reaching out for you to confirm you’re really there

and he’s super cute with Misaki!! Misaki always goes to him for makeup and styling her hair, but she likes going to you for brushing her hair when it’s tangled

mini drama sessions at home where it’s the three of you playing out scenes from a fairytale

vil is the ‘only the best for my princess’ type of father

he’s very careful with outings so the paparazzi or the media won't just sabotage your family dates, he’s determined to spend quality time with his two darlings

takes you to meet papa schoenheit, who adores you for making vil so happy, and absolutely spoils Misaki with clothes and accessories

you’ll have to be the strict parent to make sure she’s not too spoiled

not to mention uncle rook who absolutely worships the ground she walks on and cannot resist her requests

Vil's gaze flickers to the child standing beside you, her innocent eyes mirroring his own. A rush of emotions washes over him, as he finally comprehends the magnitude of the moment. His voice trembles with tenderness as he kneels down, extending a hand towards her. "Is this... our child?" His voice holds a hint of awe and wonder, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.

Misaki's eyes widen, taking a tentative step forward to try and comprehend this newfound connection. "Are you like the daddies in the shows that come back to the family?" she asks, her voice tinged with innocence and wonder.

A brief look of confusion flashes by, before a warm smile graces Vil's lips as he reaches out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, darling," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. "I am here now, and I promise I'll never leave you. I will be there for you, guide you, and cherish every moment we share, just like the fathers in the shows."

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

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[celestie0]

I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad

gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]

little miracle. a gojo x reader story

a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k

gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.

fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?

in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.

there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.

the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.

father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.

keeping it, was what you had told him next.

it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.

yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.

oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?

the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.

it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and he looks older. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.

when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.

you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.

gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.

gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.

he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.

and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.

the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.

there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.

but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.

[kykyonthemoon]

Rain On The Way Home

Zayne takes you home after an argument between the two of you.

ಇ. Zayne x Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags & warnings: since there's a bit spicy at the end I shall put 16+, MDNI here, fluff, short and sweet, kiss and make up, making out, argument, hurt/comfort, established relationship, character might be a bit ooc idk.

ಇ. Word count: ~1k9

ಇ. Based on a request by YNhi.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.

Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.

The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.

Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.

The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.

People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure. 

And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.

His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.

Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.

Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:

“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”

“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"

One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure. 

"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."

Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze. 

“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"

“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”

“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"

"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.

"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."

"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"

Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.

“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must  go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”

“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”

“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep. 

"Understood."

Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.

“What are you doing?” 

Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”

“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.

“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”

Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.

The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.  

All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.

You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.

"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"

"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"

That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.

“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.

Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:

“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”

Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.

“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”

You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.

“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."

Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.

"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"

You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.

As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:

"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"

You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.

Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.

[catladyoftheyr]

Muscle Memory

Pt 2

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.

Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.

Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.

Word count: 2.7k

Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼

You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.

“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”

“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”

“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.

“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.

“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita

“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.

“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-

You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.

You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”

Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”

“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.

“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.

“I’m just admiring the view, baby”

If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.

Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”

“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”

“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.

That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.

Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.

“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”

“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.

“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.

Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.

You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.

Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.

“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.

“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.

You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.

“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.

Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.

“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”

“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”

“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.

“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.

“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”

[animentality]

Dude I'm so confused

Why are the redditors refugees here-

Whats up with the tag 196

AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)

The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.

Hence the term reddit blackout.

196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.

As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.

Think of the culture similarities.

Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.

Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.

There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.

The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.

But then they came back.

And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.

But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.

Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.

Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.

Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.

It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.

Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.

It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.

It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.

I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.

Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.

At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.

It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.

But for the most part?

...well.

I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.

Plus they're funny as fuck.

What's not to like, really?

You should welcome them with open arms too.

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |2: Borrowed Scarf|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Another fluffy and flirty installment for this series! Some hurt/comfort coming up next for this series! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala

Stomping your boots on the little entry rug just inside your apartment, you attempted to knock most of the snow from off of them. You didn’t want the water to pool all over the hardwood by your door when the snow inevitably melted. Even though, admittedly, the floor in your place wasn’t in the best condition to begin with. But you always thought it added ‘character’ to the apartment.

With a sigh you leaned to your right, resting a shoulder against the wall while your left hand clutched the two bags of takeout you’d just picked up. Reaching a foot forward, you gently nudged your apartment door shut with a boot before drawing your leg back towards yourself and sluggishly removing them one at a time single-handedly. Once you’d removed both boots, you placed them on the rug to dry before pushing off the wall and taking a moment to lock your front door. 

A strong, delicious scent wafted out of the takeout bags as you made your way over towards your kitchen, your stomach rumbling hungrily in response. You knew you'd gone a little overboard ordering tonight, aware there was no way you could actually eat everything you'd picked up, but you figured whatever was left could end up as lunch tomorrow at work. Everything had just sounded too good because you’d been starving when you ordered it.

Setting both bags down on your kitchen counter, you headed towards your fridge and swung the door open, grabbing a beer from off the top shelf. You twisted the cap off, tossing it into the garbage as you passed it. Taking a drink from the bottle, you opened a cabinet with your left hand and pulled down a plate, closing the cabinet door with your elbow before spinning on the spot. Heading back towards the counter where the bags of takeout resided, you set both your plate and beer bottle onto the surface. With your hands free, you immediately began to tear the bags of food open, rifling around in them and pulling out one of the burritos and setting it onto your plate. Next you dug out the container of rice before grabbing the chips and salsa, setting them on the counter before opening the nearby drawer and pulling out a spoon. In a rush to eat, especially after having made the trek around the corner to pick up your food in all the snow, you began to quickly plate both items hungrily.

Once everything was ready, you grabbed your beer in one hand and your plate of food in the other before making your way out of your kitchen and over towards the living room, leaving the mess on your counter to deal with once you’d eaten. As you began to lower yourself onto the couch, you reached forward and set your beer onto the coffee table. Settling down onto the cushions with a contented sigh, you balanced your plate of food on your lap and picked up the television remote from the arm of the couch. Impatiently you turned the TV on with one hand while beginning to unwrap your burrito with the other, too hungry to wait to eat until you’d started your show. Tearing off a large bite of food, you opened up Netflix while you chewed, fully prepared to continue binging the series you’d been watching. Though the sound of a few loud raps gave you pause before you could push play.

Swallowing down the bite of food you’d had in your mouth, your brows furrowed in confusion. It was late, almost eight o’clock. You’d been held over at the office today, and then the snow-laden sidewalks had slowed your walk home from work afterwards, making your walk take longer than usual. After getting out of your dress clothes, you’d decided you were too tired to cook this evening and ordered food instead. Which was why you were now having such a late dinner on a Tuesday evening. 

But it was Tuesday evening. Which meant you weren’t expecting visitors.

The knock sounded again and your eyes narrowed as you lowered the burrito to the plate in your lap and set the television remote back onto the armrest of the couch. That’s when it hit you. There wasn’t someone knocking at your door, there was someone knocking at your window .

Your head spun to the right instantly. Sure enough, the Devil clad in all black was standing on your fire escape. The moment your eyes landed on him, he raised a single gloved hand and waved, a smile forming beneath his mask. Eyes going wide, your mouth once again fell open at the sight of him standing there so casually on your fire escape in the cold of the night. 

It had been just over a week ago since the snowstorm that had led him to fall onto your fire escape when you’d first met him. The same night where you’d cuddled with him for warmth when the power had gone out in your building before accidentally falling asleep on him. But he’d snuck out of your apartment before you’d even woken, and you hadn’t heard from him since, even if you had seen him in some blurry photos on the news. 

But it wasn’t as if you’d truly ever expected to see him again after that strange night where you recalled staying up and talking with him well past two in the morning. Sure, you’d hoped he’d stop by again–fantasized about it maybe, especially with how good your mind kept recalling him looking in person in all that tight-fitting black. Those blurry cell phone images of him truly didn’t do him justice. But they were just that. Fantasies. The conversation had flowed and you swore you’d thought he was being a little flirtatious, but you figured that was probably his ‘thing.’ It didn’t mean anything. At least, not to him. And you’d scolded yourself repeatedly every time your brain decided to remind you of him over the past few days because that encounter shouldn’t have meant anything to you, either.

So why the hell was he suddenly standing on your fire escape now gesturing for you to open the window?

Still feeling entirely confused, you shifted your plate from off of your lap and onto the coffee table next to your beer. Rising to your feet, you made your way the few steps over to your window. As you moved, your eyes never left the Devil’s face, and you noticed how the smile never left his.

Reaching out, you unlatched the locks on your window and pushed it upwards. A cold rush of air burst into your apartment instantly and you shivered. Your eyes remained focused on the Devil’s face, a rush of questions racing through your mind as you took in the now almost cocky grin on his lips. Eventually your mouth blurted out the first question it could before you could stop it.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked him.

He raised a gloved hand up, clutching at his chest dramatically as he took a partial step back from the window. “Ouch,” he replied. “Certainly not the greeting I expected.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as the bitter chill of the night continued to bite at your skin, “that’s not how I meant it. I meant, why are you here? I didn’t expect to see you again unless I needed saving or something.”

“Maybe I just missed my favorite space heater?” he teased.

Heat immediately flamed at your cheeks. Even if he was joking, his words still had an effect on you. And the way his smile grew into more of a smirk in the brief silence that followed wasn’t helping.

“In all seriousness I came to return this,” he said, holding up his other hand.

Your eyes darted down at the movement, not having noticed he had been holding something in his other hand. It was a bunched up ball of fabric with a bright blue plaid pattern.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, eyes widening as realization dawned on you. “My scarf? You have my scarf?” A laugh bubbled up out of you as you glanced back up at his half-obscured face. “I wondered where that had gotten to! I thought I’d left it at the office somewhere.”

An almost sheepish smile tugged at his mouth now as he shook his head. “I uh, I borrowed it. It was freezing that night when I left your apartment and you’re right, this suit doesn’t offer much protection in general. I figured you wouldn’t mind because I intended to return it the next night, but well, I may have gotten a little…distracted with some things this past week.”

“Yeah, it definitely seems like you’ve been keeping busy from what I’ve heard in the news,” you told him.

The cocky smile easily returned to his face as his head tilted a little to the side. Your heart skittered at the sight and you tried to ignore it.

“Keeping tabs on me?” he asked. “I'm flattered.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your breath was coming in a little faster now, too. Really though, it wasn't fair how that deep gravelly voice of his paired with all those muscles and his charm could get your pulse racing with such little effort. 

“Do you maybe want to come in?” you asked him when another harsh breeze blew into your apartment. “To get warm for a moment? Or do you have some super secret vigilante business that you urgently need to attend to?”

He chuckled in response, the warm sound drawing a little smile onto your own lips. So you could still make him laugh. That shouldn't have made you as pleased as it did.

“It's currently quiet in the city,” he replied. “Which is why I had time to stop by and return your scarf. But if I'm not interrupting your evening, I wouldn't mind getting warm for a moment.”

“You're not interrupting anything,” you assured him, stepping away from the window and waving him inside. “It's not often I get the opportunity to help out Hell’s Kitchen's literal superhero.”

“Well now,” the Devil began as he slipped effortlessly through the window, “that title might be undeserved.”

You gasped dramatically, catching the smile on his face just before he turned around. His gloved hands raised up, grabbing onto the window and closing it after himself, immediately cutting off the harsh wind that had been blowing into your apartment. 

“You? Being humble?” you teased, watching as he turned back towards you still grinning. “Now that’s a surprise.”

“Are you implying I have an ego, Miss…?” he asked, holding your balled up scarf in his hand out towards you.

You reached out, grabbing the scarf from him as you shook your head and waved a finger at him. “Uh uh, no. But nice try,” you told him. “If I can’t know your name, why should I give you mine?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he playfully teased back, “maybe so I could properly thank you for letting me steal your scarf for a week? Especially since you’re not the one going out at night committing countless crimes and actually having a need to keep your identity hidden?”

Turning, you headed back towards your coffee table to set the scarf down onto it. You’d forgotten just how enjoyable the verbal back and forth with him had been the night he’d fallen onto your fire escape. He was funny but he was witty, too. 

“You can thank me just fine without a name, Devil,” you pointed out. “Besides, you just admitted to being a criminal. Probably not a good idea giving my name out to a criminal.”

The Devil shook his head, a smile stretched wide across his face when you glanced back at him. One of your brows rose curiously onto your forehead.

“What?” you asked.

“I mean, what does your name matter when I know where you live?” he questioned. “And if you’re that worried about your safety with me, you should probably stop inviting me into your apartment to get warm as often as you do.”

You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “It’s not like I’m actually worried about my safety around you,” you countered. “Otherwise I would’ve called the police on you that first night, not let you in. And I certainly wouldn’t have invited you in a second time, either.”

The Devil’s masked head cocked to the side, the corner of his smirking lip twitching. It was impossible not to stare at his mouth when everything else was covered up. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“So then why did you let me in a second time?” he asked.

His gravelly voice had somehow pitched to something lower when he’d spoken–something that almost sounded borderline flirtatious. Again. And it only had the hair on your forearms raising, goosebumps prickling along your skin. For a moment you just stood there in your living room, blinking hard a few times as your brain fumbled to come up with a witty retort. In that brief hesitation, you saw his smirk grow.

“Maybe I just have a thing for strays,” you finally shot back.

His lips parted in surprise, the smirk vanishing from his face. A pleased smile made its way onto your own in return because you’d clearly taken him off guard. He didn’t seem like the type to be surprised that easily.

“Are–are you calling me a stray?” he asked in mock-offense.

His surprise had caused that deep, fake voice of his to falter when he spoke, allowing you to catch what you assumed was his real voice for the first time. You liked the sound of it.

“I mean technically I did feed you, give you water, and a place to get warm,” you joked, laughing lightly as you replied. “And well–” you gestured a hand at him standing across your living room, “–you came back.”

“Yeah,” he said, his own hand gesturing to the scarf you’d set down on the coffee table, “to return the scarf I borrowed.”

“Stole,” you corrected him. 

A mental image of him dressed in his entirely black outfit with your blue plaid scarf bundled around his neck as he jumped from roof to roof suddenly surfaced in your mind. You couldn’t help but giggle at the visual of it. The Devil took a few steps towards you at the sound, his boots thudding heavily against your worn wood floors. That easy smile was back on his mouth again.

“What’s so funny?” he asked curiously.

“I was just thinking,” you told him, “that the bad guys on the streets this past week must have thought you were trying something new fashion-wise. Or that you got dressed in the dark with you running around wearing my scarf.”

He nodded his head, a chuckle slipping out of him. “Well maybe I did,” he replied. “Get dressed in the dark, I mean. Or something like that.”

You paused for a moment, laughter subsiding as one brow rose up onto your forehead. What a curious thing to say.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the extra takeout food sitting on your counter. You remembered how he’d admitted previously that he didn’t keep much food in his fridge and you nervously began gnawing on your bottom lip. Would it be weird if you offered him dinner? You did have extra, after all. And you had a sinking feeling that when he finished his night out fighting crime–or whatever the hell he called it–he was probably not about to find something to eat.

For some reason that realization made you a little sad. How often did Hell’s Kitchen’s hero actually take care of himself? Was there even anyone who looked out for him? After everything he did for this city and the people in it, surely he deserved that.

“You know, I was actually sitting down to eat dinner when you showed up,” you began, though you abruptly quieted when he took a few steps back towards the window.

“You’re right, I noticed,” he replied, his tone suddenly serious. “I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“No, no,” you said quickly, taking a step towards him.

He stopped, his head once again tilting to the side. It seemed like he was eyeing you curiously beneath that black mask even though you couldn’t actually see his eyes. His lips were set in a straight line as he waited for you to continue, all joking suddenly gone from him. Had he really thought you were kicking him out?

“I actually was going to ask if you’d like something to eat,” you told him. “Something more than some protein bars this time.”

There was a few seconds of silence before he spoke.

“You’re…asking me to stay and eat with you?” he questioned, surprised.

“Yes,” you answered.

Another few seconds of silence passed and you figured he was pondering the offer. Then gradually, his posture changed and a smirk reappeared on that tempting mouth of his.

“Are you trying to feed me so that I’ll come back again?” he teased. “Like the stray you think I am?”

Heat flamed at your cheeks, your eyes going wide at his accusation. “No!” you answered, shaking your head. “No, I just remembered you saying you didn’t have much food at your place. And I get the feeling you skip dinner most nights because of running around the city as the Devil.”

“Well they do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he countered cheekily.

You rolled your eyes at him yet again, though you couldn’t resist the smile that returned to your face as you made your way around your couch and back towards your kitchen. 

“Okay, well I’d like to make sure you’re not malnourished,” you said, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling down a glass. “Or dehydrated.”

You stepped over to the sink, filling the glass you’d just pulled out with water from the faucet. Vaguely you were aware of the Devil making his way into your kitchen as you did.

“What makes you think I’m malnourished?” he asked curiously.

You shook your head, laughing lightly. “Please, there’s barely any body fat on you,” you answered, turning off the faucet before turning around.

You almost dropped the glass of water onto the floor with how surprisingly close he had been standing behind you. Eyes going wide, you stared up at the masked face of his that was now only a foot away from yours.

“Been observing me that closely, have you?” that deep voice of his rumbled out.

Swallowing hard, both of your hands tightened around the glass of water. Your mouth felt like it had gone dry, your heart picking up its pace inside your chest. A slow, satisfied smirk twisted the corner of his mouth as he reached a hand out, gently grabbing the glass of water from your hands. 

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out.

He turned around, heading back towards your living room while taking a sip of water from the glass. Letting out a quiet exhale, you quickly ran a hand over your forehead and tried to collect yourself. He should not be able to affect you so easily.

“I admittedly don’t have much time,” the Devil called over his shoulder to you. “So I probably shouldn’t stay long.”

“That’s–” you began, shaking your head lightly as you tried to remember how to form a sentence, “–that’s okay. How quickly do you think you can eat a burrito?”

Pushing yourself off the counter you’d apparently fallen back against, you headed over to the bag of takeout where you’d left it. From your living room, you heard the Devil laugh.

“My old college roommate has asked me that far too many times before,” he told you.

“Oh?” you asked, digging through the bag for the second burrito. “So the Devil went to college?”

You glanced up at him as you pulled the neatly wrapped package from out of the brown paper bag. The amused smile was gone from his face, replaced with that serious expression once more. You frowned in response. You'd clearly done something wrong.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you that about me,” he mused quietly.

“It’s alright,” you assured him, making your way back over to him. “The number of people who’ve gone to college and had a roommate is vast. I’m not going to guess your true identity based on that alone. It’s not like you told me where you went to school or what you studied.”

You came to a stop in front of him before slowly holding the wrapped burrito out towards him. He stood there in silence, a muscle jumping in his cheek as if he was grinding his teeth. You almost felt bad for calling out his minor slip up. You hoped it wouldn’t suddenly keep him away, because admittedly you’d found yourself enjoying this second unexpected visit of his, too. You kind of hoped there might be a third one.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said softly.

Hesitantly his black gloved hand rose up, cautiously accepting the food from your outstretched one. Despite you joking earlier, he actually did remind you a bit of a stray. Especially with how guarded he became if you touched on the wrong topic, like he was ready to bolt right back out of your window if you did or said the wrong thing. 

“Why don’t we sit?” you suggested.

Making your way back over to the couch, you heard his heavy footsteps following after you. You returned to the spot on the couch where you’d been initially while the Devil sat further away from you, all the way on the opposite end of it. Trying to hide your disappointment at the obvious space he’d put between the pair of you–one that hadn’t been there last time–you picked your plate back up from off of the coffee table, setting it onto your lap. 

“So why exactly don’t you have long to eat?” you asked him cautiously.

Truthfully you were afraid the answer was because of you. Because he didn’t want to risk giving too much of himself away. Or that maybe now that he had returned your scarf, he had no more reason to be here anymore.

“Because something might be about to happen in the city,” he answered, unwrapping the burrito and drawing it up to his mouth. “And I might be needed.”

You sat there dumbfounded at his response, your hand hovering over the burrito on your plate. Yet again it was another odd thing for him to say. How could he possibly know that while he was sitting here in your apartment talking to you?

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him tear off a large bite of his food and chew it quickly. “Do the criminals around here have a schedule you got a hold of somehow?” you asked, half-joking. “At quarter to nine this evening they’ve penciled in some nefarious activities or something?”

The Devil huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he swallowed down another bite of food. “No, nothing like that,” he answered with a mysterious grin.

He tore another bite from the burrito in his hands, your brows both raising onto your forehead at how quickly he was making his way through it. How often had he downed burritos in college in a rush? You found yourself curious, wanting to know more about him–who he was outside of the Devil–but you knew better than to ask. Surely a single question that was a little too personal would have him running off like a scared cat. 

“Well that’s…an oddly cryptic comment then,” you told him, picking your own burrito up and drawing it towards your mouth. “But I’ll just chalk it up to keeping your identity secret, I guess.”

“Much appreciated,” he replied around a mouthful of food.

Trying to stifle the giggle threatening to slip out of you at how adorably comical he looked stuffing his face with that mask on, you took a bite of your own food and began to chew. A comfortable silence settled between the pair of you for a minute as you both ate, your mind trying to work up a safe topic of discussion. Though before you had a chance to think of one, you noticed him abruptly stiffen on the other end of your couch. Your eyes narrowed curiously at him, watching as his head darted back towards your living room window, shifting around a few times like he'd heard something.

“What?” you asked him cautiously.

Your head darted over your shoulder, looking out the same window he was. Though you couldn’t see anything.

“I have to go,” he said.

You glanced back at him and saw that he’d abruptly risen from your sofa. Brows knitting together, you quickly placed your burrito back onto your plate. The Devil started to swiftly make his way back to your window without another word.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked after him. 

Hurriedly, you set your plate on the coffee table before scrambling up to your feet and following after him. He spun around towards you once he’d reached your window, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth downwards.

“Someone’s in danger, I can’t explain how I know,” he said in a rush. “But I have to go. Thank you for unknowingly letting me borrow your scarf and for feeding me.” He held up the almost finished burrito in his hand, a smile briefly ghosting over his lips before it disappeared. “A second time.”

“Of–of course,” you stammered out, watching in puzzlement as he turned back around and quickly opened the window. “Are you going to be okay?”

With a grace you could never muster, he climbed back through your window, stepping out onto your fire escape. One last cheeky smirk was on his lips as he turned around and eyed you through the opening.

“Are you worried about me, Miss…?” he asked.

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the smile threatening to break out across your face. “Nice try yet again,” you told him off-handedly. “And what if I was?” you shot back. “What if someone in Hell’s Kitchen was actually out there worrying about you? What then?”

“Well,” he answered, that cheeky smirk still on his lips, “then I’d tell them not to worry about me. Because I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself.”

Lips parting in surprise at his response, you watched as he briskly turned around. And then, with a cat-like grace, he flung himself over the edge of your fire escape, burrito and all.

[l0velylecter]

HI IM LITERALLY OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING <333

Anyways- could I possibly request headcannons of how ghost, soap, alejandro and köng would react to someone like a random dude getting aggressive (physically or verbally is your choice) with their partner bc I love my protective boys ☆☆

Love you and your writing remember to stay healthy and take care of yourself!!! <333

— the cod : mw men + being protective ! characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, könig fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons, drabble rating : t for teen and up audiences , minor descriptions of violence, sfw!

01| You heard it from the distance, the sharp noise of the wooden stool dragging against the floor. You could feel the heat of Ghost's body behind you as he glowered at the man behind the counter. The bartender immediately shrunk back, the insult dying in the back of his throat while he scurried. He didn't need to ask you what happened: you could feel his eyes on you the whole time — watching, staring, keeping an eye out for you. You smile into your drink. So he does care. Even after you've moved to a different bar, Simon still followed you everywhere. At some point into the night, Simon leaned forward to drape himself somewhat awkwardly behind you, his frame caging yours ( he could easily rest his chin atop your head in this position, but you know he'd rather choke ). You closed the gap between your arms in a quiet act of gratitude, pinky lightly tapping his thumb. Simon didn't pull away, lifting his head to continue brooding ( and scaring everyone away.) 02| When he saw you shoved against the table by one of the recruits, Soap had run, practically sprinted over tables to insert himself between you and the aggressor. You know Soap doesn't care much about the rules, in the sense that he prefers making his own judgment of what's right to do at the moment, and now he's proving himself right by swinging his right fist against the poor soldier's jaw. With one swing, he immediately fell onto the ground with a loud thud. You placed a hand across your mouth, jaw hanging at the unexpected blow. He turned to ask if you were okay before being pulled into a brawl. In the end, he was sent on cleaning duty for half a year, sporting a small scratch against his lip. It was worth it, he told you, grinning at the fact that he won. You kissed him 'thank you' on the cheek, patting his chest before leaving him to mop the floor. ( careful on the way out bonnie, it's slippery!) 03| Everyone was staring at the man berating you, a few curses slipping past his lips as he pointed a finger toward you. It was one of those rare moments at work where a customer gets out of hand, and when no one in the line behind him did anything, you were ready to leave — barely able to tolerate the abuse when out of the blue, a voice called out from the entrance. Alejandro stood there with his jaw clenched, eyes flared, and fists curled, clenching the bouquet in his grip. in the face of the leader of the Los Vaqueros, the man wavered and started profusely apologizing, practically shaking in fear at the mere sight of the city's hero. Alejandro ordered the man to leave, voice stern and laced with anger. Once he left, everyone in the store thanked him, and he was automatically by your side with a hug. Are you hurt? He asked, kissing your forehead and patting your head comfortingly. Alejandro told you he'd make sure to pick you up from work whenever he can now, his anger forgotten as he's thankful he was there to intervene (even if he knows you can take care of yourself.) 04| You always appreciated König's presence. Even if you've never said it out loud, having him on the team gives you a sense of comfort. With his size and strength, you feel assured — safe even. Yet you never really see him lose his composure. Sure, he gets a little too excited during missions here and then, and the rush of adrenaline sometimes makes him more jittery. But you've never seen König as dangerous. Until the enemy had you under their knife. In a blur, König had slammed himself against the attacker and away from you. As if the enemy weighed nothing, König had lifted him in the air and slammed his body against the knee. The sharp and brutal crack was enough to make you look away. Alles gut, Maus? You nodded silently, heart racing in a strange mixture of admiration and fear. He gave you a hand up, trailing behind you until the mission was over. And even then, you began to notice that he was always within arm's reach: your very own shadow, watching you from underneath the hood.

a/n : thank you for this request anon ! i had fun doing it <3 thank you for the sweet reminder to take care of myself, i really needed that 🥺 and this little request is definitely a form of self care hehe so thank you again, i hope you enjoy it ! smoochesx additional hc : → i always envision ghost as more of a silent angry kind of guy. he won't get violent unless it's extremely necessary, i mean he is probably careful enough to not cause a scene in public and draw attention to himself and his team. but he is very, very protective, just in his own way because he probably doesn't know how to outwardly show affection. → poor alejandro probably just wanted to surprise you at work with flowers but had to deal with some asshole picking on his partner → soap whistles when he mops the floor ( yes, like spongebob ) + in case you're interested in visual help, the part where he comes running to your rescue with a punch is a reference to this iconic kdrama scene ! → könig is the type of guy to tell people he flirts with his crush and said flirting is just staring at them for more than 3 seconds. but i'm sure he's more than just a 'shy, introverted, wallflower' ( let's not lie here i'm sure big boy has a lot to say and show when his crush is being disrespected ! )

[chuuyasheaven]

Hiii! (This is my first time requesting so sorry if I did it wrong. )

A threesome dom!character with chuuya and dazai prompts 1 and 4 with a afab!reader that was purposely trying to piss them off in public (like sitting away from them in a restaurant, running off into a crowd without them, giving them the cold shoulder, etc) so once they get home they decide to put her in her place.

♡ Two in one ♡ (Chuuya Nakahara & Dazai Osamu)

1. "You wanted this, didn't you?" 4. "What happened to your bratty attitude, huh?"

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader / Dazai O., she/they for Reader, they're in a poly relationship, jealousy?, jealous sex maybe?, orgasm denial (once), does this count as dirty talk?, degrading and praising, rough sex, threesome, overstimulation, pet names ("baby, sweetheart" from both, "doll" from Chuuya, "pretty" from Dazai), teasing, fingering, creampie, blow jobs, might contain grammar errors, rushed, probably doesn't make sense, etc.

Notes. nghhh.. I wanna take them both so baddd (in the same hole too)

It all started with a day out planned by them, just to spend time with you because none of you was busy that day. Chuuya wanted to take you somewhere to eat, Dazai wanted to just walk around the city. In the end, they settled doing both, going somewhere to eat and then enjoying the city in the evening. At the restaurant, you guys had a great time, that was until you met an old friend. They invited you to their table and you went over, Dazai and Chuuya didn't notice at first because of some stupid shit they argued over, but when they finished they saw you talking to your friend.

Even when you guys left the restaurant, you still didn't pay attention to them. I mean, they planned all of this for you but now you didn't even pay attention to them! Was this to rile them up or what? Because you didn't even say thank you for the food. It literally felt like they interrupted you right now, but luck has it that your friend had to go soon. As you waved them goodbye, Dazai and Chuuya already planned what to do with you. At home, they set their plan in motion. .

"Ngh— Dazai, please. .", you whimpered as Dazai let his fingers curl inside you. "Please what? I'm making you feel good, aren't I, pretty?", Dazai asked, feeling his fingers do god's work while you laid in Chuuya's lap. He was stroking your hair, your moans turning him on. "Are you close, baby?",, Chuuya asked, you nodded as you shut your eyes at the feeling. Before you could get even closer, Dazai's fingers just stopped and were pulled out, you whined at the loss. "Trust me, you'll be cumming soon enough, sweetheart.", Dazai said before licking his fingers clean in front of you, which made you wetter. "Come on, get on your fours, doll. The real thing is about to start,", Chuuya ordered you, you obediently obliged and got into the position he asked you for. Now being on your fours, Chuuya kneeled on the bed, unbuckled his belt, and looked down on you. When his dick was finally unclothed, he held it in front if your face basically telling you to suck, and he didn't have to tell you twice. You opened your mouth and Chuuya pushed as much of his dick could fit past your lips.

Starting to suck on his dick while looking at him, you suddenly felt Dazai thrust into you, which made you moan out of surprise sending vibrating moans around Chuuya's cock. Dazai only waited a few seconds before continuing to thrust inside your wet cunt, and he wasn't particularly going soft either. His hips slammed against your ass making obscene slapping noises, you almost could've choked on Chuuya's cock with the pace Dazai chose. You tried to not let yourself get distracted, trying to please Chuuya as well. "Pay full attention to this, how good am I making you feel?", Dazai grunted as he slid in and out of your cunt, with the way Chuuya also groaned as you sucked him off. But Dazai waited for a answer from you, even though you mouth was stuffed. "Damn slut— you wanted this didn't you? We made plans for you and you didn't even say thank you, it's like you're asking for punishment. .", Dazai sped up as he spoke to you, the amount of pleasure overwhelming you a little. Chuuya then grabbed your hair and made you focus on him again. "Nuh uh, keep suckin' me off, you can handle this, sweetheart. We've fucked you like this once,", Chuuya told you, just then your tongue ghosted over his tip. He groaned through gritted teeth as a quick rush of pleasure rushed over him. "Good girl, just like that.", the ginger praised you, shoving an inch more past your lips.

"You want me to cum inside you, hm? Want me to fill up your slutty little cunt, baby?", Dazai huffed as he bent down to your ear, letting you hear every grunt and low moan, he let you hear how good you felt. "Oh, you'll like that? 'Cause you clenched down on me.", before he could say anything else, you clenched down harder and eventually came, this was also the reason Dazai got sent over the edge like five minutes later. Chuuya wasn't very far either, it took only five more minutes for him to empty his load inside your mouth. He released you from his cock and you took in some deep and heavy breaths. You closed your eyes to calm down from your first orgasm. As soon as you opened them again you saw that Dazai and Chuuya switched places, which meant that it was probably Chuuya's turn— "You're still wet? Wasn't it already enough?", Chuuya teased, his tip now being dragged along your folds to tease you, slick already dripping down his tip. "Fuck, do you want us to continue until you become cockdrunk? Until our cum is dripping down down your thighs? Fuckin' slut.", he teased you further, his tip now slowly going in. "Go on and suck 'Samu off, just like the good girl you are,", Chuuya cooed as his cock was halfway in.

You opened your mouth for Dazai so he could place his dick inside your mouth, just like you did with Chuuya earlier. You start sucking him off and Dazai was already grunting and cursing to himself, precum already leaking out. Meanwhile Chuuya just let you get adjusted to his size and started to move, like Dazai, not particularly gentle. Not only did his hips slap against your ass, but his hands found themselves spanking you right now. Now you had Dazai in your mouth, Chuuya in your cunt and barely any power in your arms left to hold your upper body. You focused on Dazai a little more than on Chuuya, which resulted in him thrusting up hard to gain your attention. "Hm, arch that back for me, sweetheart.", Chuuya groaned into your ear, Dazai was getting closer by each suck, if you licked his tip then he'll—

"Ah— shit! J–just like that, you fucking whore. .", the brunette moaned while cumming inside your mouth, this time a little more than earlier. You struggled slightly with swallowing but made it, just some cum rolling down from the corner of your mouth. Dazai held your face, looking into your eyes and cleaning up the drop from your chin. Suddenly Chuuya's thrusts got deeper, as if that wasn't enough, his finger was circling your clit! "Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it, doll? What happened with your bratty attitude, huh? I didn't fuck you dumb now, have I?", you started to tighten around his cock, giving signs of your upcoming orgasm. Chuuya kept going faster, his thrusting got sloppier meaning he was reaching the edge soon. Minutes before cumming around him, Dazai started to rub your nipples, helping your release come quicker. "Ch–chuuya— fuck. .", you breathed out heavily, all the pleasure overwhelming you. "F–fuck, I'm gonna fill this cunt up, gonna make you leak our juices.", this was the moment you knot snapped, you just squirted. This was all Chuuya needed to cum inside you, all the cum inside you slowly gushing out of you.

"You did so good. . think you could give us one more, baby?"

GUYS MY AIRPODS ARE SUFFERING THEY'RE ONLY ON 5 PROCENT RN.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 4

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Mentions of Cannibalism, Choking

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Ok, so clearly I'm a big fat liar. I'm sorry this chapter also took ages. I think I'm just a slow writer lmao. Anyway, it was fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, thanks for all the lovely comments I appreciate them a lot. Take care and have a good one!

"Where is he?" you snarl as you march through the halls gripping Iassa's choker. "Where is the na-Baron?" Your voice a threat.

"He is doing his morning drills, my lady," Zora, your new servant chases after you, growing increasingly panicked, "he trains with the Warmaster."

You pick up your pace, "Take me to him." When Zora hesitates, you yell, "Now!"

When you arrive, Feyd-Rautha is sparring with who you assume to be the Harkonnen Warmaster in a shallow recessed pit in the center of the training room.

"Where is she?" you call from the doorway, your voice filled with vitriol.

Your unexpected presence catches Feyd-Rautha off-guard and his sparring partner manages to cut his right abdomen through his shield. He growls at the Warmaster and snaps his head to you, "I am preoccupied at the moment, my lady."

"Where is Iassa?" your glare pierces through him.

"Who?" he asks genuinely confused.

Your grip on the choker tightens, "Don't pretend. The servant girl assigned to me. You left this in my room, didn't you?" The realization he had snuck into your quarters while you were asleep quietly creeps on you. "What have you done with her."

"Ah," he tilts his head, ignoring his bleeding wound, "I thought about just cutting her tongue out." A smirk grows on his lips, "but my darlings were hungry."

It was only then you noticed his concubines in the room, lounging in a corner of pillows. Their sharp-toothed grins only stoked your fury.

You scoff in anger, "because she revealed your farce? Are you so insecure?"

Is cocky expression evolves into a glare. "Leave us," he orders, eyes staying on yours. Servants flood out of the room asking with the Warmaster but it seems his pets were exempt from this command. "Why do you cry for a girl you knew less than two days?"

He was right. Why do you care so much? You were hardly 'close' with Iassa. You've had servants on Caladan and you were never particular with any of them. Would you anger for them the same way? Why must you suddenly be a paragon of justice? And at the risk of the Harkonnens' contempt?

When you remain speechless, the na-Baron continues, "You may not be familiar with slaves but here, their death is inconsequential—save for the economics of it all."

"Is that so?" You look at his pets then back at him. Your breath is dragon-like and your tone hardens, "then relieve your concubines."

"What?" Feyd-Rautha's low voice echoes through the room. His concubines hiss at you from their raised platform.

You stand taller, shoulders back, still clutching Iassa's choker in your hand, "If I am to be your wife, I demand you take no other women."

He takes a moment to determine how serious you are being, then decides it doesn't matter. He walks up the steps surrounding the pit and you aren't given time to react before he has your neck in his grip. "You are in no place to demand such things, Atreides." His black gritted teeth at the last word match the darkness of his voice.

Your hands fly to claw at his wrist, "How dare you lay a hand on me." You struggle against his unrelenting grip, "Let go of me!"

He leans down to your ear, "You're a feisty one, aren't you, little hawk?" You feel his hold continue to tighten and panic rises in your chest. Before you can be rendered speechless, you make a decision.

"UNHAND ME."

The Voice echos from your mouth seizing Feyd-Rautha's mind and his hand releases your throat. As you gasp desperately for air, he attempts to recover from the haze of the mental intrusion. When he finds his bearings, you see the thrill in his dark eyes. Witch, you can almost hear him say.

"Aren't you just full of surprises," he smirks.

"And I will have many more," you say bitterly. Straightening your dress, you regain your self-assured stance and meet his eyes with a cold stare, "Be rid of your harpies before we are wed or I will kill them myself."

You don't spare his concubines a glance as you turn to leave. You don't see the way Feyd-Rautha looks at you, head tilted, as you storm off.

You dismiss Zora and lock yourself in your chambers. Sprawled out on your bed, you stare up at the dark gray ceiling and question what could have possibly possessed you to challenge Feyd-Rautha the way you did. You go back and forth on whether or not it was an overreaction but eventually chalk it up to the Atreides' fiery defiance. Certainly, it wasn't the brightest decision but you sense that your father and brother would not have condemned it. Your heart is still pounding from the encounter. And the flicker in Fey-Rautha's eyes—you dismiss the idea that he might have enjoyed it.

You had hoped to hide your mother's training for longer. She had trained you and Paul in The Voice and Prana-Bindu. As a high-born lady, you could have been sent to a Bene Gesserit School in your formative years, but it was decided against due to Baron Vladimir's thinly veiled aversion to The Sisterhood. So, Lady Jessica resolved to teach you in secret. You were grateful for it anyway as you didn't have to be separated from your family. You think about how your mother would be able to continue to train Paul without you. You had always been more adept at The Voice than him. Now, he has the opportunity to surpass you. The thought triggers your competitiveness against your sibling but the feeling quickly melts into melancholy. You miss him. You miss all of them.

Is this to be your life? Married to a twisted psycho who feeds his concubines human flesh and kills people you care about? You sit up and place Iassa's choker carefully in the drawer of your nightstand. You hoped she didn't fear you as she did the Harkonnens.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. You had really hoped no one would bother you for the rest of the day but then you feel the emptiness in your stomach. You had skipped breakfast that day to confront the na-Baron. When you open the door, Zora is holding a covered tray which you assumed, and hoped, to be lunch.

"Would my lady like to eat in solitude?" she asks after she sets your meal at the small table in your quarters. Your heart sinks. She is so young.

"Ah no, I would like you to stay if that's alright." You sit at your table and cut into your food while Zora stands politely to the side. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. The na-Baron—my fiancé—he has caused me some aggravation."

"It is quite alright, my lady," she says, her head bowed low.

After your meal, you ask Zora to fetch you various projections on the planet of Giedi Prime from the Harkonnen archives. You were hesitant to make the request considering the fate of your last servant but you hoped you managed to convince Feyd-Rautha you were not to be trifled with. Besides, what harm could you do by learning about flora and fauna.

You spent the rest of the day watching informative holograms about your new home's ecology and biodiversity. Apparently, one of the planet's greatest exports is wood from the Pilingitam tree which is prized for its pliability when freshly cut but sturdy hardness once aged and dried. It was also anti-fungal and naturally fire-resistant. It was a surprise you didn't see much of it. Everything in the fortress was cold stone and concrete. You wonder how beautiful furniture made out of Pilingitam must be when carved by a skilled artist.

That night, you make sure to lock your door and fall asleep to images of sprawling landscapes.

The following day was similarly spent, watching projections about Giedi Prime's geographical features. You were left undisturbed save for Zora's quiet knocks on your door to serve your meals. Your life as a baroness is days away so you might as well educate yourself. Although, you suppose you should probably focus on politics and history more than the planet's Obsidian Planes but you weren't really in the mood to learn of the Harkonnens' gruesome past right now. You would cross that bridge when you got there.

Come evening, you hear an unfamiliar knock at your door. Zora had already brought you dinner earlier so you are wary as you crack open the door.

"Hello, little hawk." Feyd-Rautha's tall figure looms past the doorway.

You stare him down, making no move to let him in.

He tilts his head slightly, "Would you really kill my darlings?"

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove

[fanaticsnail]

Is this a bullet, Captain?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 840+

Synopsis: Your captain ventures below deck to your office with a grimace on his face and a slight hobble in his step. You wait patiently for him to explain himself, and hope he has learnt a lesson from this experience.

Warnings: surgical talk, mention of a gun, exhausted Doctor, grumpy captain. gn!reader x platonic!Kid, suggestive talk, swearing.

Notes: Thank you to @feral-artistry for sending another video for inspiration for this little character exchange. I love these so much.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23

“Hey, Doc?” the booming voice of your captain calls to you from the other side of the door. There is a small quiver in his tone, and an almost desperate twitch in his cadence, “Need ya’, Open up.” 

From your reclined position on the bed enjoying a few moments peace and listening to the music coming from the transponder snail beside you. The lyrics come to a screeching halt as you switch the small device off and walk your way to the door. 

Truthfully, you were shocked it took him this long to make it to your office after the commotion you heard above deck. The large explosive sound, followed by the string of barked explicit dialogue immediately thereafter, had you relaxing yourself and awaiting your captain to sheepishly enter your office. 

As you open the door, you ask him monotonously without an air of humor or teasing in your tone.

“Anything to do with: ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck. It’s in my ass, it’s right in the meat of my ass’, by any chance, Captain?” You usher him inside, watching him hobble over to your surgical table. He passes you with a grumbling grimace and nodding his admission to you. 

Huffing out a soft sigh, you motion him over to the bet and ask him to drop his pants with a small gesture to his belt with your index finger. He growls, using his right hand to loosen his belt and hook his waistband over his hip, scurrying out of his patterned pants. 

“Lay face-down on the bench and tell me what happened,” you order him softly, shaking your head at him as he pouts and huffs his disdain for taking your orders, “What’s in ‘the meat of your ass’?” You place latex gloves over your hands and snap them at the wrists. 

Giving him a once over, you notice there is a fair amount of bleeding and an angry looking indent in his left ass-cheek. Placing your hand on his lower back between the dimples, you reach down and gingerly touch the marking before you huff out your disbelief.

“Is this a bullet, Captain?” you ask him, moving over to the side and readying your surgical pliers and placing it in your hands, “It still in there?”

Kid offers you a soft, mumbled conformational hum in response, burying his forehead in his right forearm to hide his flushing embarrassment over his face. You shake your head at him, applying a numbing cream to the circular hole and beginning to dig around in the entrance wound. 

“And what did we learn?” you ask him in a soft, reflectional tone with a slight tinge of condescension. He growled at you, bringing his furrowed brows and pouting lips away from his forearm and scowling at you. 

“Learnt not to place a marine’s fucking pistol in the back of my pants after disarming them,” he spat before offering you a soft smirk, “At least without checking to see if the thing is loaded.” You shook your head at your captain, huffing out a sigh of absolute exasperation. 

After fishing out the bullet, you placed it down onto the surgical tray with a soft ‘clink’ and began stitching up the hole. Kid hissed through the pain, his grimace morphing into a pout once you informed him you stitched up the incision. 

“All done, Cap,” you inform him, prompting him to look up over his forearm at you with gratuity. He glances over his shoulder and sneers at the exposed stitches. 

“What the fuck you call this?” Kid’s barked breath called over at you as you took off your latex gloves and discarded them. You furrow your brows and look over at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Five stitches in your left ass-cheek,” you nod to him, cocking your head to the side and glaring at him. He deepened his frown, looking over his shoulder and back at you again. He growls out at you, pouting like a petulant child. 

“Yeah, I see that, Doc,” he mocks you before sheepishly grasping the back of his neck with a small smile, “I just wanna know where my fuckin’ cool punk-band aid is, is all.” You roll your eyes at him, stalking over to your draw and growling under your breath.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” you huff, fishing out the box of patterned band aids with Kid’s Jolly Roger printed on the exterior. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder, watching as his lips curl into a smirk.

“No, this is a pain in the ass,” Kid gestures to the incision with his giant metal arm, “Now gimme my punk-band aid.” He laid back onto the surgical table and waited to be granted the prize he so desperately sought. 

“Fine,” you relent, unfolding the packaging and reaching down to plaster it over the stitches, “Happy now, Captain?” you scoff, looking down at the red and black pattern over his ass cheek. 

He took one look at it and released a breathy snort through his nose with his laughter. 

“Ecstatic, Doc.”