#feel free to hit the ask box if you prefer

[anawrites3]

Let's do this!! I can't get anything done today and this is exactly what I need to not go crazy 😂

This will probably (for sure actually) be longer than just three sentences but oh well

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

--

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

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Masterlist

[itsthestutterforme]

Copy That (Jack Reacher x ex!wife!reader)

Summary: Much against his preference, he gave you a call and asked for your help. When a hit was hired to take you out, he deeply regrets getting you involved.

Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, protective Reacher, soft Reacher, reader is black, technically this is a drabble but there will be more drabble with the same characters

—

“Who’s able to hack into a system with this much encryption?” Rocoe asks, linking her arms over her head as she leaned back into her chair.

“Let me see,” Reacher turns the monitor to face him. There’s a black screen with a singular white box that asks for a password.

Obviously it’s more than a password. They probably beefed up their cybersecurity when he noticed someone getting too close to their operation, Reacher thought to himself.

“Finlay, do you have any friends in cybersecurity security that we can trust?” Roscoe asks.

“Negative,” Reacher knew exactly the person for the job. He hadn’t spoken to you in years, and he didn’t want the first time he contacted you to be when he needed something.

But he didn’t have any other choice.

You wanted out of field work two years after your operations team disbanded. In that way, you were opposite of Neagley, your best friend.

You liked being in the comfort of your own office, free to do anything you’d like when waiting for the decryption to crack.

Life with you was domesticated. Life with you was peaceful. A level of peace he wasn’t sure he would feel again, even if he went back to his favorite home town growing up.

“Reacher?” Roscoe asks, touching her forearm to bring him out of his thoughts. “Where’d you go?” “Nowhere, I’m right here. I know someone,” Reacher finally says, pulling out his burner phone.

“Really? You have friends?” Finlay jabs, earning a glare from Reacher. He dialed your number and put the phone on speaker.

You were in the middle of doing a headstand lotus on your yoga mat when you heard your phone vibrate.

It was from an unsaved number. There was two people that would call from unsaved number: Neagley or Reacher.

You answered the phone and moved across your office to close all the blinds. “Y/L/N,” you answer and you were met with silence.

“If this is some ploy to scare me, you really suck at it.” Reacher stared at the phone, his heart pattering wildly in his chest.

You just had that effect on him.

You were about to hang up the phone when you heard a low baritone say your name.

You looked down at the number before bringing the phone back up to your ear. “Reacher? Is everything okay?”

You peeked through the blinds of your office and saw no one suspicious but you can never be too careful.

“I, uh.” Reacher starts, earning confused stares from Finlay and Roscoe. They hadn’t seen him speechless before.

He takes the phone off speaker and goes outside for some privacy. “Y/N, I need your help cracking something. You’re more than welcome to say no-“ “Send it over,” you interrupt.

“I can’t. It’s likely they’ll track the IP address to you and pay you a visit.” “Let them try.” A proud smile makes its way on his face. That’s my girl.

“It’s safer with us. I’ll send you the coordinate incognito.” “Jesus, Reacher. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s something I have to finish,” “How long should I pack for?” His silence told you all you needed to know.

“I’ll be on the next flight out,”

**

You stepped off the metro with your carry on suitcase by your side and a backpack on.

You downed the rest of your coffee and tossed it in the waste bin before advancing towards the escalator. You scanned the area for Reacher with no avail but Reached saw you.

He didn’t want to call attention to you by calling your name so he watched as you waited for the escalator.

“Wow, she’s.. ” Finlay trails off when Reacher’s gaze left you to stare at him. “Really pretty,” Roscoe finishes. “She’s clearly your girlfriend,” Finlay adds.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” “You’re rather protective of her. You care about her.”“That doesn’t make her my girlfriend,”

“Uh guys, where’d she go?” Roscoe starts. The group looks at the empty space where you were previously standing.

“Fuck,” Reacher rushes down the stairs, Finlay and Roscoe not far behind. I should have never took my eyes off of her, Reacher thought to himself. If she dies, I swear to God.

Meanwhile, you stood over the man who had pushed you a few feet into the metro tunnel.

He had pressed a knife to your throat while his teammate searched your belongings. They expected you to be a quick kill.

You had to say you were a bit insulted that they only sent two men after you. They must not see you as a physical threat. That was their mistake.

He laid at your feet, his eyes widen as he looks up at you. He peers over to his teammate who laid dead on the tracks, his neck split wide open.

You slowly approached him and he attempted to crawl away from you. The blood from his chest wound stains the pavement under near him.

You wasted no time as you pressed your boot down on his trachea. He gripped your ankle, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Thrusting your foot down, you crushed his trachea and watched as his chest slowly falls to a stop.

You slung your book bag over your shoulder and rolled your carry on back to the metro docking station.

Reacher had his back toward you, he was talking to two people you didn’t recognize.

A younger woman looked over at you, her mouth fell open at the sight of you. You’re sure you had blood splattered across your neck and face.

She mumbles something to Reacher and spun around so fast, you’re surprised he didn’t crack his neck.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you. He doesn’t say anything at first. You admired the stubble that was forming on his face.

You were always a sweetheart for facial hair. He held your face, turning your head from side to side in search of wounds. His hand gently trailed down your abdomen.

He continued his silent survey until you said, “Reach, I’m fine. The blood isn’t mine.”

His gaze fell behind you before returning to your face. He raised his brow and you nodded at his silent question. They were dead.

“I should have kept my eyes on you. This is my fault. I’m sorry.” “Hey, you taught me well. I handled myself. Besides, it was only two guys.”

“What did they use?” “Knives,” you said with a smirk. “They didn’t stand a chance,” he says, making your smirk widen. “No, they didn’t.”

“Sorry to interrupt but uh,” Finlay hands you a hanker chief, motioning to your face. “We should go. You’re getting stares.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure.” You reached down to grab your luggage but Reacher beats you to it.

You didn’t bother arguing with him, you were occupied with getting all of the blood off of your skin while it was still wet.

“So.. are you Reacher’s girlfriend?” Finlay asks as he opened the trunk and Reacher slide your luggage inside.

Roscoe looked at you expectantly, which tells you that she has a crush on him.

You don’t blame her. He’s Jack Reacher after all.

“No, I’m his ex-wife.” You answer, setting your book bag next to your luggage before closing the trunk. Roscoe’s mouth fell once again, along with Finlay’s.

They stared at you as if they were waiting for you to say just kidding. You slide into the back seat and Reacher joined you.

“Close your mouth, Finlay. You’ll catch flies.” He says before closing the door.

“Care to tell me what happened the last time you were at the metro?” You asked when you all piled into the car.

“What do you mean?” Roscoe asks as Finlay pulls off the curb and descends into exit to go onto the freeway.

“The way you were looking for me was frantic. It makes sense why Reach was worried, but not you two. Something else happened at the metro station. Someone was taken out like they tried to take me out. Who was it?” You explain.

Finlay and Roscoe looked shared a look but didn’t say anything.

“There was a woman. Her name was Molly-“ “Molly? As in Molly Gordon?” “You know her?”

“Joe brought her as his plus one to my sister’s baby shower. God, that’s.. how’s Joe holding up?” You asked, your mouth felt dry at the new information.

Reacher looks at you, his features hard as stone. Your heart sank in your chest the longer you stared at him.

You felt compelled to reach for his hand in comfort but you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t big on public affection.

Nor was he big on being vulnerable in front of people so you kept your hands in your lap.

“How long?” You asked after a pause. “It’s been a few days now,” Finlay confirms. “They got too close,” you said with a sigh.

“How many people have died?” “Five so far,” Roscoe answers. “And that’s just the ones we found,” Finlay adds.

“So they’re dropping people like flies and it’s still a state police matter?”

Bringing in the FBI and the CIA will only push these people into the hiding. We need to lure them out and kill them.” Reacher explains and you nodded in agreement.

“Copy that,”

[a-killer-obsession]

i am here to ask about your kid pirate kink headcanons. SPILL THE BEANS!

Bless you 🙏 like a cursed genie, I have been freed

Now presenting:

☠️Kid Pirates ☠️

Kink Headcannons 😳

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Kid

Pretty even switch, openly acts like a top, but secretly prefers to be a bottom

When he's a top: spanking, hair pulling, deep throating, restraints, knife and bloodplay, spitting, forced orgasm, somnophilia, free use.

He'll convince you to keep a metal egg in your pussy, and he'll use his devil fruit to vibrate it at the worst possible times just to laugh at you. He loves to make you blush.

He has no trouble putting his hand down your pants in the middle of a bar, pulling you out to a alley and fucking you against the cold wall. Someone catches you? He ain't stoppin'

When he's on the recieving end: restrains (specifically seastone), shibari (but its gotta be red cord or he will SCREAM), being a fucking brat, pegging, praise, degradation, pain (but don't be a pussy about it, if you're gonna hit him then fucking hit him). He wants you to spit on him, call him a pig, beat the shit out of him and fuck his ass till hes screaming. Hell, you can even piss on him if you want, whatever you want as long as he feels like a used piece of meat by the end of it

He loves to show off when he's being a top, so he often invites Killer, whether to join or just to watch him fuck, especially if it's Killer's girl

Absolutely has a breeding kink, no cum is wasted with this man, he's putting it inside you raw and if it starts leaking out, he's pushing it back in

Killer

Top, but he doesn't mind being a bottom on occasion. Also enjoys just taking things in equals and going with the flow

Forced orgasm, hair pulling (giving and receiving), restraints, sense deprivation, brat taming (especially Kid). He knows a million different ways to tie beautiful shibari and he'll do it even just to see you wear it casually around the bedroom, or even under your clothes in public. He's got a box under his bed full of toys - blindfolds and cuffs and tools to inflict pleasurable pain

He wants to use tools to smack your ass till the skin breaks, if you can handle it. Your comfort and needs are the most important thing to him. His #1 priority is making you cum over and over till you pass out

He loves to force a orgasm from you in public, to test you, see if you can keep quiet and not get caught

Loves to watch other men fuck you, whether or not you even know he's there, quietly standing in the corner palming himself while you're getting railed. He also loves to play the part of a intruder taking you by force, always prediscussed and consenting of course

I mentioned in my other post that he cums a lot, and its got some spray and distance to it. He takes full advantage of that, you're not leaving his room without a shower unless you wanna walk around absolutely coated in cum

King of aftercare though, he's always gonna end the night bathing you so very softly, laying tender kisses over your body and attending to your every need

Late addition someone reminded me off and I don't know how I forgot cos AGREED, this man absolutely loves to eat pussy, its the most important meal of the day

Heat

Bottom, but he'll top if you reallllly want him to

Please call him a good boy, please call him a good boy, PLEASE CALL HIM A GOOD BOY

Seriously, this man eats up praise, but he does like being treated like a piece of meat on occasion

Facesitting, squirting right on his face or cock, watersports, roleplay, pegging, cock rings, edging (he's been such a good boy please let him cum), wax play, choking

Somnophilia, but he'll always be so apologetic afterwards. He just can't help himself when you're laying there looking so fucking sexy

He's gonna worship every inch of your body till you're absolutely begging him to just fucking put his dick in you already

If he's really, really good maybe you'll let him cum on your feet (yes I am a firm believer in the common headcannon that Heat likes Feet)

Wire

The toppest top to ever top, don't even THINK about making him your bottom. This man is a experienced dom through and through

In fact, he's the most experienced of all the Kid Pirates, so if you want a orgy he's the man to talk to, and he's gonna make sure everyone is safe and comfortable, and everyone knows the safeword or colour system. He's gonna make sure everyone gets the aftercare they need as well (and has absolutely chewed out Kid on more than one occasion about it, for both forgetting to give aftercare and refusing it himself)

He loves to inflict pain, he loves to see you bound and gagged, he loves to see you being thrown around between multiple partners. He won't fuck you though till you've cum at least five times, because as I mentioned in my previous post, the man is BIG, hes not going to inflict pain on you like that, never like that. You'll be too fucked out and gaping to notice any pain by the time he's gracing you with his fat cock

Truly he doesn't care that much about getting off, he prefers to help others get off. He likes being in control of your orgasms, and he'll edge you if you don't behave exactly how he orders you to. You'll cum when and if he allows it

He's willing to give anything a go as long as it's getting you off and everyone consents, but controlling multiple subs at once is his favourite. His go to is usually Heat and a girl, ordering them around like they themselves are tools to make each other cum till they're both a pile of jelly

Killer learned everything he knows about topping from Wire

Please tell me if you have a headcannon I missed, infect me with your sexy sexy brain worms, maybe they'll make it into a fic 👀

[evilminji]

Okay, But, >.> Listen...

So MAYBE, just MAYBE, I am an incureable RoFan Isekai nerd. Shut up about it, maybe. What're you a cop? Mind your business. BUT! And hear me out...

W...What would actually? HAPPEN if Danny went into a Visual Novel? Some Otome game? You know, aside from being vague flustered by and then DEEPLY ALARMED by these walking Red Flag Fruitloops that girls are supposed to find "dreamy" or something?

Like we know how MMOs work for him. And probably OTHER open world games? But a visual novel? Would it be like the Christmas Episode? Would he hear narration? Be stuck in static "scenes"? Or would it be like a cut together "only the interesting parts" movie that he's somehow IN?

Like?? At SOME point his curiosity is gonna get the best of him. He's gonna want to know what different video games are LIKE on the inside? What's Pong like? Tetris? Mario? One of those Mama's cooking games? Etc etc.

He probably hits up a game sale. Buys a box or two. Figures he can always resell um or just give them away for free. Might even use them for parts. Who knows. And?

It's kinda cool!

It's even SCIENCE! See? Tucker's in charge of notes. Sam's in charge of hilarious commentary and pizza. Jazz is keeping them from drinking and doing ghost shit (terrible combination, we never speak of What Happened(tm) again). And the Dr's. Fenton got distracted by making fudge and debating what games should be counted towards which categories.

They've made an afternoon of it.

And NOW? They've reached the bottom of box one. It was "Survive The Villainess! My Rose for You!" Or... judging by Sam's climbing eyebrows and growing scowl? A DEEPLY unpleasant porn game about school girls.

You could not PAY him enough.

Yeah, he DOES realistically kinda want to know what happens.. if.. like? You know... sexy games... like would he? Or does he just WATCH or...? *awkward cough* But! That's NOT for Family Science Night! And DEFINITELY not THAT game, THANKS.

He'll find himself an ETHICALLY SOURCED smutty game full of consensual boning. For PRIVATE TIME. Those test results are gonna show up like MAGIC and we WILL NOT be talking about them! Got it? Good.

Now what the fuck is he look at here?

Jazz is surprisingly knowledgeable. They are not allowed to ask. They respect it. The main character "wakes up" inside the body of a "villainess" and must survive. Turn her terrible reputation around. Avoid "death flags". Preferably romance one of the hot guys?

Uuuuuuuh... you realize Danny's in a committed relationship, right?

Sam and Turker allow it. But they reserve the right to blast his taste in Fantasy Guy's. Chose carefully, for their roasting shall be BRUTAL. Luuuuuv yoooou~♡

He wants a divorce. They're not even MARRIED and he wants a divorce. You see how they mock him, Jazz? The cruelty he suffers? He's taking the Blobs and moving to Frightknight's. They always warned him about you living folks and your fast ways, but he didn't listen! *continued dramatics* *is smacked with a pillow*

But actually going IN? The weirdly, vaguely European over the top EVERYTHING? Giant jewels and ridiculous, fancy dresses? The walking red flag Romantic Archtype Leads? He wants to PUNCH half these guys! This is ABUSE! Are people OKAY!?

Like? I feel like he'd stay way, WAY longer then he needed too? Just out of morbid curiosity? W-where is this plot GOING? It's so dramatic. Why is my dress MORE dramatic now? Why is everything so... Sparkly.

It would be? AMAZING and baffling and I would pay real money to hear their live commentary. "Why not simply judo flip the crown prince off the balcony, then take over the country, sweetie?" "Solid plan, honey! He deserves it!" Beautiful. Flawless. Sage advice really. Too bad Danny can barely walk in his five million bows dress.

It's the BEST Au and I might be a genius. Or deeply sleep deprived. Meh. We'll 50/50 it, six of one, half a dozen of another.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[lilac-witch]

Lassitude - Azriel x Reader

masterlist

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Summary: Between training regiments, court meetings and missions, Y/n has never been so tired, so Azriel does his best to comfort her during this time. Meaning: "suffering from a lack of energy" Word Count: 481 Warnings: None

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Exhaustion was too light a term for what Y/n was feeling.

The past few months had been a whirlwind of training, meetings and missions. The line between work-life blurred with social life, to the point where Y/n felt she was losing her mind.

That day had been no different.

She was out of bed before the sun was up, begrudgingly leaving the warmth and safety of her mate's arms behind for an early morning meeting with the High Lord of Day.

Three hours later, she was dragged into yet another meeting, sitting at Rhysand's right hand in place of Mor, who was busy on the continent.

Following the morning full of meetings, Y/n found herself observing the progress of the female warriors she trained in the Illyrian mountains.

"is it just me or are they doing worse than last week?" her second asked, as they watched lousy strike after lousy strike.

Y/n shook her head, baffled at the step backwards in terms of progress.

After an hour of standing in the snow-capped mountains, she could feel her eyes begin to droop, the lack of sleep catching up to her.

"Go home, you look like you're about to pass out."

Y/n looked to her second. "You sure?"

"Please go, I don't want Azriel hunting me down because I let you hit the ground," she laughed, waving her off.

Y/n smiled through the exhaustion. "I could kiss you right now, but I'm afraid if I take a step I'll crumble. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, she winnowed back to the townhouse.

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Thank the mother Azriel had arrived moments before her, because the moment she landed in the foyer of the townhouse, Y/n's legs folded beneath her. Before she could hit the ground, Azriel's arms were around her, supporting her body and pulling her upright.

"Are you alright?" Azriel asked, concern swirling around in those beautiful hazel eyes.

Y/n mumbled something incoherent, head resting in the crook of Azriel's neck.

"I didn't quite catch that, love."

She lifted her head, eyes barely open. "I said that I'm exhausted."

Y/n watched as Azriel's face sagged in relief and a smile graced his lips. Lips that moments later, made contact with her forehead.

"Well then, let's get you to bed, mate."

"Why'd you have to say it like that?" she mumbled, curling further into his warmth as he lifted her into his arms, beginning the trek to their bedroom.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to initiate something other than sleep, which I would be fully on board with at any other time."

Azriel laughed heartily as they crossed the threshold of their room. He placed her on the bed with utmost care, brushing a strand of her from her face.

"Another time, love. For now, get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

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Well, after a long while... I'm back! I really don't recommend getting sick while studying law... not a fun experience :(

But anyway, this was the idea I had where I couldn't decide between Az and Rhys, but your wish was my command, and Azriel was a clear winner:)

I'm going to be releasing another poll shortly, so please feel free to vote on your preference. A gentle reminder that my inbox, Letter Box, is open for requests. And once again, thank you so much for the love and support:)

[littlemisskookie]

Crocodile Tears: Intro

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!BTS, Sub!Reader, Weed (sorry it’s what helps get me in the mood to write these), Dirty Talk, Kink Shaming?, mentions of the reader being into kind of dark/taboo kinks, Jimin is incredibly mean for no reason, Reader is ridiculously horny and is good at weed Word Count: 2,397 A/N: This has now been edited and finalized which means I can get started on the first segment!

You coughed, smoke erupting from between your lips. You feel Jungkook's large hand offering a comforting (arousing) pat on your back, rubbing gently to comfort you out of your coughing fit.  Damn, why'd you have to get horny when you were smoking weed? It didn't help that you were surrounded by perhaps the hottest guys on campus. Who would've thought that befriending fellow stoner, Hoseok, over a blunt in a party would lead to introducing you to his other stoner friends? Before you knew it, you guys would hang out regularly, bonding over a bong.

Today wasn't supposed to be any different from those days. You had smoked with these seven plenty of times before. Most of the time it was in Yoongi's studio apartment, practically hot boxing the small space. 

Today though you guys were lucky.  Namjoon's rich parents were going to be gone on a cruise for two weeks. You guys could smoke carefree in a nice ass mansion and not have to worry about the smell, as Namjoon assured you the maids would take care of it. (They much preferred Namjoon to his parents despite the weed smell assistances, probably because he's so charming. You didn't blame them. Namjoon had that old money charm, the type that would make you not hesitate to do whatever he asked.)

You guys brought bongs, edible gummies, baked goods, weed, pipes, snacks, water bottles, pens and carts- anything a proper stoner hangout would need.

Part of the reason the guys adored you so much was because you had the highest tolerance of any girl they ever met, which was very contradictory to first glance. You could outsmoke any man you met, and could brag you had never greened out despite the amount of weed you'd smoke once challenged. You could simply keep going, you were a beast, this was your talent. You were proud to say you had outsmoked each and every man in this room, earning their respect and the privilege of joining their smoking group. You weren't going to argue. You've never gotten so much free weed and attention from hot guys in your life.  You were used to the attention it would bring you now for the most part. Cute girl who smokes weed? It's stoner boy kryptonite, basically your super power. 

Except against one. There was one guy that definitely wasn't the most respectful to you, treating you like he barely even liked you, but for some reason you didn't find yourself minding. You don't think you'd mind it from any of these guys, but as it was, your stoner powers gave you a leg up on these guys. Most of them wouldn't dare think about disrespecting a deity like you.

That didn't mean you didn't have your moments of coughing, though. Usually you were better and holding it down nowadays, but it was a bigger hit than you were anticipating. 

Jungkook pulled the bong back, face in front of yours to examine your expression. "You ok?" he asked. You look up at him, eyes locking. He's got that hooded eyes, hazy look in the eye that looked so similar to "fuck me" eyes. You didn't want to assume, though. Too many times guys told you it looked like you were giving them fuck me eyes when in reality out were simply stoned. 

"I'm good," you assured, trying not to think about how good his lip ring looked. Shit, you were probably staring at it right now. You quickly turn away, feeling flushed, reaching for the plate of brownies you had pulled from the kitchen. "God, I'm having insane cravings right now, though!"

"Wait, Y/N, where'd you get those brownies?" Jin inquired, squinting down at your plate. 

"In the kitchen. Namjoon said I could help myself to whatever food's there." You paused after scarfing down another bite. "Oh no, do these have more weed in them? I mean I think I'll be fine, but shit."

Jin's mouth dropped open. "Uh, no... not weed."

Your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. "What is it, then? Did you put fentanyl in brownies, Jin?!"

"God, no! Not fentanyl... aphrodisiacs," Jin sheepishly admitted.

"What the fuck, man, why'd you bring sex brownies to the party?" Yoongi laughed. "Trying to start an orgy or something?"

"No! Me and Y/N were just joking about it last time we hung out and were talking about those chocolates on tik tok that make you horny. She was like what if we all took one and saw what happened? I decided to make some myself and brought them. I didn't know Y/N was going to end up eating half of them herself!" Jin explained hurriedly, eyes glancing to you quickly for help. 

"So you were trying to start an orgy!" Yoongi accused. 

You bursted out laughing. "Well, that explains a lot. At least I can't overdose on aphrodisiacs. Teaches me not to let my munchies get the best of me." You turn to Jungkook, biting your lip at the sight of him. These sex brownies were really doing something to you. You're all giggly, though, from the weed. "Munch. Munchies. Do you think munches get munchies?"

"Y/N definitely seems high enough," Namjoon laughs. "Sorry you're just going to be stuck with the brownies... effects. You sure you'll be ok?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll be fineeee. I'm basically horny most of the time anyways, this will be no different."

"TMI," Hoseok jokes, rolling his eyes.

You were fine.

For all of, like, ten minutes.

Once an hour had passed, you were practically wanting to jump out of your skin. You found your mind wandering off, you were biting your lips far more often than usual, your eyes weren't just blazed stupor, but full on fuck me eyes. You found yourself staring intently at your guy friends. Jimin's thick lips wrapping around a blunt, letting smoke pour out. The way he was staring back at you, almost suspicious. God, he'd probably be disgusted if we knew what sort of thoughts you were having about him. He always acted a bit disgusted by you. You eyes flitted away to his best friend next to him. Taehyung's hands gripping around the bong, elegant fingers wrapping around it, veins tracing along the middle. You wondered if he'd choke you if you asked. Wait stop. You try to keep your high mind from wandering off to dirty places and focus on what's in front of you. Jungkook's tattooed fingers as he rolled up a joint for you, doing so with such delicacy and precision. He was so careful, and was definitely the best at rolling. You sucked at it, and were grateful that Jungkook's attentive personality made him volunteer to be your personal roller. Without thinking, you bring your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your thumbnail as you stare at Jungkook with a certain intensity.

It was Taehyung who spoke to you first.  "Y/N, you good? You looking kinda zoned out, there." 

You snapped out of it, hand flying away from your mouth. "Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."

"Your joint's done," Jungkook said, tatted hand offering it up to you.

"Thank you, Kookie," you grin, tussling his hair in front of you. Fuck, you wanted to grip it while his head was between your legs. You reach back, clearing your throat. "It's kind of hot in here, actually. I think I'll go to the balcony."

You hope they don't read too much into your need of absence, but who were you kidding. You were obvious. 

You leaned against the railing of the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. You lit up the joint and inhale the smoke, opening your phone to distract yourself. With smut. Hey, horny brain has a one track mind? You pull up your fanfiction recommendation blog, mainly used to store your favorites and save for later, for times like these. You scroll past the stories, each depraved tag and recollection of the smut's materials not seeming like enough. 

You clicked on the third story, entrenched in the words as you try to imagine the scene before you. The weed made your mind hazy. You didn't know how much time you had spent out here reading porn. The joint was already halfway finished.

You didn’t even notice the balcony door being open and shut behind you, finding yourself too engrossed in the words on your screen. Perhaps if you were sober, you’d have felt his presence behind you, eyes peering over your shoulder.

"What's sex pollen?"

You practically jumped out of your skin, squealing at the feeling of hot air against your ear. You spun around, lower back soon pressed against the railing as your space was invaded, to see Jimin, his red tinged eyes meeting yours. The one man here not impressed with your surprisingly high tolerance. Maybe because he of all people knew about deceiving appearances. He leaned in closer, far closer to you than he had ever been in the time you’ve spent with him and his friends. His chest was a mere few inches in front of yours, hands clasped against the railing beside yours, trapping you. The aphrodisiacs weren’t helping you, and you were feeling a certain type of way about having a handsome man so close to you.

"Jimin! What're you doing here?" Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anxiety overwhelming you at being caught.

"You've been out here for a while, the guys were getting worried about you," Jimin explained. A devious smirk formed on his lips. "Guess I should explain to them you're fine, just out here basically reading porn."

"I-I'm not-"

"Oh? What's sex pollen, then?" Jimin grabbed your phone, your reflexes too slow to stop him. He wore a shit eating grin as he watched your eyes flit between your phone and his face, unable to even process the beginning of your defeat. You were completely defenseless and stunned, not sure how to understand how he had beaten you so swiftly, or why he was particularly smug about it. You don't think he's ever smiled at you before, whether out of kindness or humor. This smile lacked both. This was a grin of enjoyment at the sight of you fussing and at his mercy. "Explain, Y/N."

You gulped. "I-It's just this like… trope.”

“Trope?” His thumb slides up the screen, the sentences scrolling by. “Seems pretty scandalous compared to your typical romance tropes. I don’t think I’ve heard of this one, before.”

“It’s more of a fanfiction trope than an actual literature trope…” 

“Oh? How’s it work, then? What’s so appealing about it?” Jimin’s amused expression was in stark juxtaposition to your flushed, embarrassed one.

“U-Um… it’s w-when the person gets affected by this pollen or something in general that makes them all... needy. And they need someone to take care of it for them."

“Take care of it how?”

You huffed, irritated with his teasing. “What do you think? You already know. It’s called sex pollen for a reason, quit teasing me.”

"Oh?" Jimin quirked up a brow, obviously pleased with your embarrassment and stammering. His hand came up to your throat, and there was a hitch in your breath. "But it’s so fun.”

“No it’s n-not-“ It was hard to keep your sentences structured well as Jimin tilted your head back, hand sliding further up to your jaw, making you lean back. Adrenaline pumped through you has your anxieties increased, all to aware of you dangling halfway off the railing at this height. 

“This trope of yours sounds very familiar. Taking aphrodisiacs, familiar.” His chuckle was taunting in your ear, his soft breath noticeable in the night air. “Hoping for something to happen, Y/N?”

"No, I-"

"Did you do it on purpose, sweetheart? Wanted one of us to take care of you? Put you out of your mercy and fuck you cause you need it so badly?" 

You gasped at his words, his hand gripping  your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your back was still arched against the railing, and both of your hands clasped around Jimin's arm for support, afraid of both falling back and falling into him. His muscles felt so firm underneath your fingertips , and you tried not to think about how much you had missed the feeling of digits on your throat. Jimin's eyes flit over to your screen, going back to scroll through the stories you saved. He could probably feel your heartbeat against his fingerprints quicken as he delved deeper into your trove of dark and twisted fantasies. "Fuck, this is some really nasty shit, Y/N. You're into some depraved shit. Alpha/Omega? CNC? Step-siblings? Always knew you were a pervert. Bet you've thought about us gang banging you before, huh?"

His canines gleam in the dim light, taunting you. Your wide eyes met his with terror, and you whimpered in his hold.

"Fuck, Jimin, please please please don't tell them-" you pleaded.

"But how can I keep this to myself?" In horror, you watched his devious fingers tap against your phone screen, airdropping your blog of fanfiction collections to the rest of the house. He let you go, allowing you to catch your breath as he backed away from you. Fishing out his own phone, he accepted the request. He waved your own screen in front of your face, taunting you with your own powerlessness. You grab it from him, staring in horror as you see that three people accepted the airdrop. Fuck. It wasn't like you could even pretend it wasn't you, your name was attatched. The worst part is you didn't even know who accepted it, the names only being "iPhone".

You stared up at Jimin in horror, only to see his sadistic grin as he scrolls through your personal porn stash. "Don't worry, I'll make all your dirty fantasies come true," Jimin chuckled. "I’ll be a bit busy for now, though. Have to catch up on some light reading. Besides,” he turned towards the door, looking back to you with devious excitement. “You’re a big girl, I’ll let you take care of this by yourself.”

He left you alone on that balcony, gawking and trembling, wondering just what would happen if you were to step back in that house.

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Hi! can I request a poly misamo (mimo g!p) with vampire mina, werewolf momo, and succubus sana (if you’re not comfy with writing succubus, pls feel free to change or remove it) where they meet at a bar then start flirting until they end up fucking in sana’s house? Momo being turned on at their scents bc of her sensitive nose, mina teasing them both with her fangs, and sana’s dirty talk making mimo even harder. Thank you and happy halloween!

enjoy! here's part one :)

Devil's Night

3.5k words

CW: GP, vampires, werewolves, demons, Sana has some maybe questionable supernatural abilities when it comes to getting her way...

[GP!Vampire!Mina x Succubus!Sana x GP!Werewolf!Momo]

There were, at any given moment, only a handful of safe bars in the city for undiscovered monsters, folkloric creatures and hybrids to congregate for a drink without fearful, judgmental stares from the rest of the human population. 

But in the days leading up to Halloween, it was a little easier to slip undetected among the throngs of people out celebrating. 

It was Devil's Night, the night before Halloween, and Mina felt an invisible, out of character pull toward the dark club she now found herself walking into in the district of the city most known for its vibrant nightlife. The throb of the heavy bass hit her eardrums at the same time her vampiric senses detected the astounding number of beating hearts inside. Once inside, Mina flocked to the bar on the main level and watched the crowd around her with rapt fascination: the shadows of happy, drunken people with sweating drinks in hand, the way lasers and lights hit their faces every so often, the way they erupted in cheers when they recognized the remixed versions of Rezz, Hante and darkwave pop songs that played overhead. 

At the bar, she ordered a glass of ice. The bartender gave her a funny look. “No water?” he’d asked, but complied. Shortly after receiving her cup of ice, Mina headed for the bathroom. 

She ducked into a stall quickly, keeping her face out of view as best she could to avoid the mirrors in front of the sinks as girls nearby touched up their makeup, took selfies and washed their hands. No one noticed her, though. She emerged from the stall shortly after, knowing whoever cleaned up was going to get a real Halloween fright when they found the drained bag of donated blood in the trash receptacle reserved for menstruation products.  

Mina weaved her way back to the bar with her glass in hand. She normally preferred her blood warm and from a willing, living source, but if she wanted to blend in, it needed to look like a dark mixed drink, so she settled for sipping O negative on ice through a straw so it wouldn’t stain her lips and alarm anyone close to her. She wasn’t opposed to drinking alcohol, but alcohol lowered her inhibitions, and right now she needed help to resist the club full of living juice boxes: people full of an array of blood types, some regular and some spiked– those that had all sorts of fun, illicit substances in their systems. 

The vampire licked her lips absentmindedly and staked out a new seat toward the end of the bar, away from the guy who had taken her order. The number of people coming in to dance kept rising. Usually the vampire avoided this kind of environment, but there really was some sort of magnetic attraction to the space she couldn’t shake off. She wanted to stay a little longer.  

She swiveled around on the bar stool, thinking about taking a look at the Halloween drink specials, only to bump into someone next to her. 

“Oh,” she said softly, then found her voice over the blaring club music, “Sorry!”

The woman who she had bumped into turned around. “No worries!” she said, offering Mina a smile. 

Mina, had she still been human, knew her heart rate would’ve spiked after taking in the woman’s appearance. She was stunning. As the woman smiled, the vampire found the corners of her own mouth turning up, too. 

The stranger beside her was everything Mina wasn’t: warm, athletic and rugged. She was dressed as a sexy zookeeper in short khaki shorts, a suggestively unbuttoned khaki shirt with multiple pockets, and a red bandana around her neck. A pair of high heeled Timberland boots finished off her look. Her stylish, shaggy wolf cut framed her face perfectly, and Mina couldn’t help but notice just how well toned the woman’s body was. 

“Wow,” the other woman spoke, giving Mina a not-so-subtle once over. “You must need, like, SPF 500.”

Mina blinked at the other woman. Then she remembered how pale she must’ve looked in comparison. Lacking a reflection (save for when she looked in ponds, lakes, or full bathtubs) made it hard to remember what her features looked like to other people. “Oh,” she said, looking down at her drink. “Uh, yeah, kinda.” 

Momo offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she said. “I just meant, like— you’re really pretty, is what I’m trying to say.” 

Mina perked up a bit at that. “Thank you,” she said, allowing herself to look up into the woman’s golden eyes. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Momo,” the woman said, switching her drink to her left hand and extending her right out to shake. Mina took it and their touch was like fire meeting ice. She knew her hands were cold all the time, but this woman’s hand seemed far warmer than a normal human’s. Mina’s mouth watered a little, detecting Momo’s steady pulse quickly. 

“And you are?”

The vampire shook off her blood-centered thoughts. “I’m Mina,” she said, offering a shy smile.

“Oh wow, your fangs are great!” Momo said, leaning in as Mina spoke. “And your contacts— where did you find red-rimmed ones? I love a good vampire costume.”

Mina blushed. “I um, I have a friend who does special fx makeup,” she said quickly. It was a complete lie, but what other choice did she have? She never revealed herself during fleeting encounters with humans. 

“Yours are really nice, too,” the vampire added, nodding toward Momo’s eyes. “What a pretty golden color.” 

It was Momo’s turn to freeze for a moment. “Oh these– I mean, thank you,” she said, taking a sip of her drink quickly. 

Mina didn’t miss the awkward beat and felt bad. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to make you self conscious.”

Momo leaned in a little closer, brushing her arm against Mina’s. “No! No, not at all,” she said, thinking quickly, “Just– forgot I was wearing them,” she said with a nervous laugh. 

Mina was about to ask if she could buy her a drink when a voice behind them interrupted. 

“Wow, you two have got to be the hottest couple here.” 

Momo and Mina both turned around to find a dizzyingly pretty stranger before them. She was some sort of demon, it appeared, but a slutty version. The two tried their best not to let their eyes linger for too long, but it was hard not to stare. 

The mystery woman wore ripped black thigh high stockings secured with black garters and recognizable red-bottomed black heels. A shiny black bodysuit covered her top half, but left plenty to the imagination with a criss-cross cutout running down from the top to the middle of the suit. She wore a tattered black cape that barely covered her ass, her deep red lipstick matched the back of her heels, and the dark, almost ombré-esque horns on top of her head were the perfect finishing touch. They looked sturdy and quite well made. 

“Oh,” Mina said, recovering first while Momo’s jaw hung slightly slack. “We’re– we’re not a couple.” She noticed that the new woman’s ears were slightly pointed, too, and wondered what kind of prosthetics she was using. 

The demon girl seemed unphased. “Oh, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice as sweet as it was sultry. “Saves me from embarrassing myself and hitting on both of you, then.”

It was then that Momo finally found her voice. “You can hit on us,” she blurted. 

A small smile crossed the demon’s lips as Momo blushed instantly. “I mean, I-I can’t speak for Mina but…” 

The demon’s eyebrows went up. “So you do know each other?”

Mina watched the girl curiously. “Barely,” she piped up. She felt strangely compelled to keep this conversation going. Despite not caring what most people thought of her, she wanted this girl to like her. “We just met.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully. “I see,” she said, a playful smile still present. “Well if either of you are interested…I’m heading to the bar on the upper level,” she said, flicking her eyes up to the more secluded lounge upstairs. 

“Isn’t that VIP?” Momo asked. “I uh, I don’t think I can get in there.”

“Me either,” Mina said, taking a sip of her chilled blood. She gripped her glass a little tighter while she eyed the demon girl’s exposed upper thighs, trying her best not to think about femoral arteries.

“I can get you in,” the woman shrugged. “It’s no trouble,” she said, eyes roaming over the two of them. “Really.”

Momo and Mina looked at each other. Momo had an amused smile on her face now, and Mina noticed the shade of gold her eyes had been a minute ago was now a little darker. Mina’s breath caught. Colored contacts didn’t normally change color. She couldn’t be inhuman too, could she..?

“I’m in,” Momo said, interrupting Mina’s train of thought. “Mina?”

Mina looked at the two women in front of her. She knew she shouldn’t. It was risky and there was no guarantee that even if things went her way, that either of them would be into what she told humans was her “severe blood play kink.” But getting a drink with two women, especially ones this attractive, was too tempting to pass up. Isn’t this the point of Devils’ Night? she asked herself. To take advantage of the lifting of the veil between her world and humans’? 

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself and sliding off of the bar stool.

The horned demon led the way through the crowd of dancing people in costumes of all kinds. Momo followed after, with Mina bringing up the rear. At the top of the stairs, the entrance to the lounge, a burly security guard stopped them. “If you don’t have wristbands already, I’ll need names to confirm you on my list,” he said gruffly.

“Minatozaki Sana,” the demon said sweetly, twirling some of her long, dark hair around her finger. The guard went to check the guest list pulled up on his phone, but she touched his arm lightly, making him look up at her first. “There should be two guests as well,” she said, smiling at him. 

The guard looked at her. He paused for a moment, then blinked. “Two guests,” he repeated monotonously, putting his phone away and allowing them in. He didn’t even check the list. 

Momo and Mina exchanged awe-struck glances before following after her. The second level of the club was much less crowded. The lighting was more dim too, but Mina had no trouble seeing in the dark. It looked like Momo had adjusted just fine, too, as the demon led them to a secluded area around the corner. 

She chose a table that had a long booth on one side and chairs on the other. Momo slid into the booth first, followed by Sana. Mina was going to snag one of the chairs, but was stopped. 

“Sit next to me?” the demon girl asked. It was a suggestion, but Mina’s body reacted as if it were a command and she found herself nodding, abandoning the chair and sliding in next to her so Sana was in the middle. 

Sana beamed. “Are you thirsty?” she asked the two of them. 

“I can get us some drinks,” Momo offered, moving to get up, but Sana shook her head. 

“No, no, you stay here,” she said, and Momo stayed put. 

“Excuse me?” the demon said, catching the attention of a passing staff member. 

Minutes later, two rounds of shots were delivered to their table, on the house, despite the fact that this was very much not one of those clubs with table service or an establishment that gave drinks out for free. 

“Whoa,” Momo said as they each were presented with glasses of water, slotted spoons, two sugar cubes, and two small glasses of curiously green liquor. “Do you like, know the owner or something?”

Sana laughed, wetting the sugar cubes for the three of them so they would start to drip into the green liquid. “Something like that. I’m Sana, by the way,” she said. 

Momo and Mina introduced themselves again, taking in their new environment. Away from the heavier crowds, Momo’s hypersensitive nose wasn’t so overloaded with surrounding scents. She watched as the sugar dissolved through the slotted spoon, disappearing into the drink. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed lightly. It smelled unlike anything she’d ever tasted before. 

The vampire, on the other hand, recognized it almost immediately. 

“Absinthe? Mina asked curiously.

“Very good,” Sana said. “Fitting for Devil's Night, don’t you think?”

Momo hummed, but Mina looked a little anxious. “Devil's Night?” she asked. “You’re…familiar?”

Sana shrugged. “Quite,” she said. “I like to celebrate by window shopping along all of the clubs in the city. If one looks good enough, sometimes I’ll drop in.” 

The vampire picked up her glass and took a sip. She couldn’t believe Sana had ordered two for each of them. The unmistakable anise and fennel flavors took over her tongue immediately. There was no way she was going to finish both given how strong they were. 

Then she frowned. It was like she was only now understanding what Sana had just said. 

“Window shop?” Mina asked, puzzled by the woman’s choice of words. “For what?” 

“A treat, of course,” Sana said, offering no further explanation. She looked between the two of them. “What about you two?” she asked. “Here for Devil's Night or just having a fun Halloweekend?”

Momo’s face reddened a little. “I’m…uh, Devils’ Night,” she said.

Sana’s eyes flicked over to Mina. They seemed to look straight into Mina’s soul, or lack thereof while she waited for her to answer. 

“Same here,” Mina said quickly, hoping the follow up question wasn’t going to be ‘Why?’ 

“I thought you both might be,” Sana said, pausing to drink some of her absinthe. She had long, black acrylic nails that she now tapped thoughtfully on the side of her glass. “Forgive me for asking so soon after meeting, but how do we smell to you, Momo?” she asked with a grin, making the athletic girl nearly choke. 

“S-smell?” Momo asked nervously, tugging at the bandana around her neck a little. She almost reminded Mina a little bit of Scooby Doo in her mannerisms. 

Sana put a hand on Momo’s thigh and leaned in toward her neck. “I’ve always been curious to know what a vampire smells like, if anything, to a werewolf.” 

Mina’s eyes widened at that and she slid out of the booth with lightning speed at the same time Momo was scrambling to get up on the other end. 

Sana just laughed, taking another sip of her drink. “Relax,” she said, checking out her nails casually. “I’m not a threat. And I’m not human, either.”

“Then…?” Mina asked. She couldn’t finish her question. Her vampiric instinct was telling her to flee, but she hadn’t run off like she had planned. Her feet felt glued to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to leave, but she also couldn’t bring herself to sit back down. 

“H-how did you know?” Momo asked. She was sitting at the edge of the booth. Her fight or flight instinct seemed to be stalled, too. 

“I’ll tell you if you drink with me, please?” Sana batted her eyelashes at them. “Just one little drink.” 

Realizing she was probably drawing more attention to herself by standing, Mina begrudgingly obliged and sat back down, sliding back over next to Sana. “Fine,” she said. She reached for her glass, knocking back the first round of absinthe in one go. Her eyes watered and she almost coughed, but she kept it down, clearing her throat once the alcohol was safely traveling down her esophagus. It was over the top, maybe, but now she could at least say she’d had one drink if she needed to hightail it out of there. 

Sana’s eyes seemed to glow. “Wow,” she said. She then turned to the werewolf. “Momo?” 

Momo seemed stiffer than Mina had been, and it took a few seconds before her body relaxed again. Hesitantly, she slid back over next to Sana, too. 

She looked at Mina, who shared her bewildered expression, and then followed the vampire’s lead, downing her first glass of absinthe, too. She grimaced, licking her lips the way a dog would after realizing the treat it had just eaten was stuffed with medicine. 

Sana smirked. “Mm, I love being right,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. “A sexy vampire and a sexy werewolf, what luck.” 

Momo and Mina peered at each other curiously. 

“So– your fangs..?” Momo asked.

“Real,” Mina said. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this so freely, in a public space no less. 

“And your eyes… no full moon, huh?” Mina offered up. 

Momo chuckled. “Not tonight,” she said sheepishly. 

“But it will be in like, two days,” Sana said, bringing their attention back to her. “What are you doing out so close to the start of your rut cycle, little werewolf?” she said, using one of her nails to gently touch just under Momo’s chin. She turned Momo’s head, making the werewolf look at her before resting her hand on Momo’s thigh again. 

Momo blushed.  

Sana’s other hand made its way to Mina’s thigh. “You’re taking a risk too, aren’t you? A little vampire on her very best behavior while surrounded by walking blood-flavored Capri Suns,” she giggled. It wasn’t malicious in any way, but Mina still went red, which really only made her look slightly more human as the hint of color made its way to her pale face. 

“Enough about us,” Momo said, feeling suddenly protective of the pretty vampire. “You said you’re no threat or a human. So what are you?”

“Hmm. An appreciator of gorgeous women, for starters,” Sana said, taking her hand off Momo’s thigh to finish off her first glass of absinthe. “Please,” she said, nudging the second glasses toward them. 

There it was again– that invisible persuading force. Momo brought the second glass up to her lips carefully. The alcohol was already running amok through her system. And even though she was still slightly distressed by the mystery woman’s ability to clock her so easily, she was also starting to become slightly aroused. The demon girl beside her smelled sinfully good, as did the vampire, almost earthy, like late fall leaves. 

And not only did they smell good, Momo thought, they were both incredibly attractive. She found Mina alluring with her sleek, perfectly conditioned long dark hair and sharp fangs tucked behind those pretty lips, and Sana’s entire presence was devastatingly sexy. Her costume didn’t help with the werewolf’s arousal, either.  

Mina found herself drinking from her second glass, too. The buzz was hitting her faster than anything she’d experienced when she was human. Like Momo, she was unsettled, but mildly turned on. Momo’s bangs kept getting in her eyes, making her look slightly doe eyed when she looked up, and Sana, whatever she was, was downright delicious, especially with her know-it-all attitude. And both of them had hearts pumping plenty of warm blood through their bodies. 

They watched as Sana then tapped on one of the curled, thick dark horns on her head. “Not a costume,” she admitted. 

“Y-you’re a demon?” Mina asked, shocked. 

Sana pouted. “Don’t say it like that,” she said, her voice darkening for a millisecond. “I’m not scary.” 

She paused. “Well. Not all the time.” She looked up between the two of them to make sure their eyes were on her. Mina and Momo watched, unsure whether to feel horrified or impressed, as Sana showed more of herself to them. The whites of her eyes vanished for a moment, completely overtaken by empty blackness. 

And then, just as soon as it happened, it was over and Sana’s big, brown irises came back into view among the whites of her eyes. 

Momo’s heart rate spiked and Mina sensed it immediately. She found it strangely sexy of Sana to be able to get Momo’s heart racing with such little effort. Vampirism had really changed her turn-ons over the years. 

“S-so what is this, then? What do you want with us?” Momo asked. She peered down at Sana’s hand on her thigh, suddenly afraid of getting hard in front of her and Mina. 

“Aw, am I making you nervous, Momo?” Sana giggled lightly, bringing a hand up to toy with the werewolf’s bandana. She hooked a finger under it, pulling Momo close as if to kiss her. She waited for a second to see how the werewolf would react, and just as she’d thought, Momo inched closer. 

“I just want to have some fun,” she said, barely brushing her lips against Momo’s. Sana turned away from her then to look at Mina. Her eyes moved down between the vampire’s legs while her hand moved up the vampire’s thigh and squeezed it lightly. “With both of you.” 

The demon smirked, removing her hands from both the other two’s bodies and picked up her second glass of absinthe. “I know you two are already interested in each other based off of the way you were gazing at each other when I first saw you,” she said, making the word sound more like gay-zing. “So…is there room for one more?” 

Mina nodded at the same time Momo stammered a shy “Yes.”

“Well then,” said Sana, picking up her remaining glass for a toast. “Cheers to Devil's Night.” 

[just-an-anon-reader]

Soft Shelled Hug

Hello! After my last submission, I became inspired to write! And, since this turtle lives rent-free in my brain, here is some Rise!Donnie x GN!Reader. I hope you enjoy UwU!

P.S. this became longer than I thought huhu~

"I would like that we take our relationship to the next level." A moment of silence passes as you blink owlishly at your boyfriend. "I beg your pardon?"

An hour ago...

Quarterly exams hit school like a TRUCK. Sure you were confident, but man were you DRAINED. Unlocking the door to your apartment, you kicked your shoes off by the doorway and landed on your couch with a loud oomph. With a week's worth of energy-zapping tests done, all you wanted to do was lay around and maybe get a hug from your not-so-touchy-feely boyfriend who made it clear that he didn't DO hugs. You even remember him saying exactly that while using air quotations to emphasize DO. While usually, you don't mind, he did have a bad boy image to maintain, after all. There were still times when you wished he wouldn't stiffen up like a board just because you brushed your hand against his. Times like now as you tried reaching for your phone, which you just happened to drop on the floor slightly out of your reach a moment ago.

  You were just about to give up when it suddenly pinged. With newfound energy, you lunged at the device and unlocked the screen. It was a text from Donnie. Just the purple-clad turtle to make your day.

  DonTron: <Salutations, my dearest, would you happen to be at your apartment by now?> MyDarlingDearest: <Hey, Dee! Yeah, I just got back a few minutes ago.> DonTron: <Would you be so kind as to grace me with your presence later at the lair for the Jupiter Jim special? I have already informed April. But, judging by her lack of a reply, I believe that she is currently incapacitated.> MyDarlingDEarest: <Not surprised, really. She had it rough this week. Sure, I'll swing by in a bit. Let me get freshened up first.> DonTron: <Excellent. I shall be expecting you soon.>

  With a spring in your step, you head to the bathroom to ready up for movie night. Donning a purple sweater, which you DEFINITELY borrowed from your boyfriend, and a pair of black leggings, you head out for the lair.

Thirty minutes ago...

Of course, you don't forget to grab a box, maybe a couple, of pepperoni and cheese pizza along the way. Turning left, turning right, you watch out for bystanders before lifting the hatch and slipping into the lair. Mikey was the first to greet you. He bounded towards you with arms open and engulfed you in a crushing hug.

  "You bought my favorite~" "How could I ever forget Mikey." "Come on, everyone's already by the projector. Let's go!"

Pizzas in one hand, and yours in the other, Mikey dragged you to the living room where three blue, purple and red turtles sat in their respective seats. Your eyes immediately fall on Donnie. He smiles and excitedly waves you over. Taking the spot next to him, your knees briefly touch. And in typical Dinatello-style, he stiffened up like a wooden board. What was surprising, however, was him relaxing and leaning towards you. Shoulder to shoulder. Before you could call him out on this "Un-Donnie-like" behavior, Leo shushes you as the projector flickers to life and the Jupiter Jim special begins to play.

  It doesn't take long for the turtles to become completely engrossed with the movie. Eyes wide and mouths open as they inhaled every scene. You couldn't find it in yourself to focus. The shock of your boyfriend's sudden physical affection still renders you confused. You suddenly feel someone tap on your shoulder. It was Donnie. Beckoning you with his head towards his room, he stood up. His hand outstretched to you. Eyebrows raised, almost kissing your hairline, you take his hand. Letting him gently pull you up and into his room. Not once letting go, even as you both reach his room.

  "Dee is something wrong?"

  Standing face-to-face, hand-in-hand in the center of Donnie's room, you ask him gently. His eyes glisten as the words that come out of his mouth shake you to your core.

Now... 

"As I've said, I would like for us to take our relationship to the next level." "And what exactly do you mean by next level?" You could feel the sweat prickle on your back. "Look, I know I'm not the most "touchy-feely", as Mikey would say, turtle. And I'd prefer to keep it that way ... with anyone but you."

  Those words were the sweetest things he has ever said to you. The heart that sat in your chest seemed to beat louder than usual. Like it wanted out of your body.

  "So, how do you want to go to the next level?" "I suppose a hug should suffice for now."

  Excitedly, you open up your arms, only to be met with Donnie's hand in your face.

  "Before we do..."

With a loud FWSHHH and a thunk, his combat shell hit the floor. Gently. You gasped. Donnie was rarely without his battle shell. So him taking it off now, for a hug, for you...it did things to your heart.

  "Are you sure?" "Absolutely. And besides, it'd be uncomfortable for you if I didn't."

  Slowly, you two embraced. It was awkward at first with hands unsure and stiff. But soon, you both relaxed into the embrace. You heard him sigh as you gently slid your hand across his shell. The leathery texture is soft and comforting under your touch.

  "Why so suddenly?"

  You whispered to him, afraid that you'd ruin the moment. There was silence, and after a while, he whispered back.

  "I missed you."  

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 8

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: woooh! this part got me excited to write!!! y’all, things are heating up! also, what if i just, idk, post a part early for once. surprise!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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previous part | series masterlist | next part

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He doesn't cry, though. He doesn't scream or hit anything. No, he can't. Not yet. For now he can only hold his sleeping daughter close to him and listen to the gentle breathing of a child who hasn't slept or eaten well in weeks.

It is all he can do to stay strong for his daughter.

The trip back to the States from Siberia was certainly tense, but Bucky is certain that it was preferable to the conference room he is currently sat in. He has been in many a debriefing, but he has never been in one reliant on a toddler.

“Bec, honey,” Natasha says softly to Rebecca, “I know it’s all bad memories, but can you tell me what happened to you and your mom while you were away?”

Rebecca looks at Natasha unsure before looking up at Bucky from where she sits in his lap. She had developed a habit of looking to you for permission to speak while in HYDRA’s custody and the habit has transferred to Bucky. After all, the toddler essentially traded one parent for another.

Bucky smiles encouragingly at his daughter, “Go ahead, love.”

Becca looks back to Natasha and takes in a deep breath.

“Just start from the beginning, yeah?” Natasha encourages.

Becca nods shyly before finally speaking.

“Mommy and I were at the park. I was swinging really high and jumping off. Then, Mommy said we had to leave, and she started walking really fast. Then we were in a box, and it was dark, and I was really hungry. We were there for a long time.”

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek while he rubs his flesh hand comfortingly up and down his daughter’s arm.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” Natasha says. “What happened next?”

Becca nods. “Dr. Frost took us to the room where he hit Mommy. He wanted to know about “The Asset.” Mommy said that was Daddy.”

Bucky visibly tenses in his seat and makes eye contact with Natasha in front of her. She sends him a tense smile in hopes of providing some comfort.

“What did Dr. Frost want to know about your dad?” Steve chimes in. While Natasha sits in the chair directly across the table from Becca, where she sits in Bucky’s lap, Steve sits at the head of the conference table a few feet away.

Bucky had insisted that not too many people were in the room to question Becca when Steve finally convinced him to let the team talk to her.

“Buck, I know you don’t want her to have to think about it anymore, but if we’re going to stop Morozov and avenge Y/N, we need to talk to her. She’s the only one who knows anything, and we’re desperate for a lead here, pal.”

“He kept asking Mommy about words that didn’t work.”

“Do you know why he wanted to know that?” Steve pushes.

“Steve,” Bucky warns as he becomes exceedingly more uncomfortable with the interrogation of his daughter. Steve makes eye contact with Bucky, and the face he sends tells Bucky he has no intent to back down. But he’s sorry about it.

“They wanted to keep me,” Becca says, scrunching her face.

Bucky scrunches his own face in confusion, and anyone observing the pair would be able to note their resemblance on the facial expressions alone.

“What do you mean, honey?” Natasha asks tensely.

“I do not know,” Becca says, confusedly looking back up at her dad. “But Mommy got really angry and pulled the…” she trails off, searching for a word you’d taught her all those weeks before. “Handcuffs?” Becca says, continuing when Bucky nods, assuring that she is making sense. “Mommy pulled her handcuffs off the wall. They wanted her after that.”

The three adults look at each other, trying to make sense of Becca’s story. Nothing was adding up. If they wanted Becca to begin with, why would they stop? Why would they kill you just to return her?

“We were there for a long time after that. They hit Mommy a lot. They asked her to do something for them, but she said they had to give me back to Daddy.

“They took her away. When she came back, they hurt her until she stopped moving.”

Becca finishes her testimony, and the Avengers are nowhere closer to understanding what HYDRA was planning. Bucky, however, begins to think about all his daughter shared, and he thinks maybe—just maybe—they didn’t actually kill you.

—

A month goes by and Bucky Barnes insists his wife isn’t dead. His friends all insist he’s grieving, but he knows better. Something about Rebecca’s story just doesn’t add up, and he is sure there’s more going on than his daughter could possibly know.

He has taken to keeping to himself, only really talking to Becca, who he has diligently kept close to him at all times. So, when he is called in for a meeting for the first time since Rebecca’s rescue mission, he isn’t sure what to do. He settles for letting her sit in the briefing room with her headphones on, turning on a cartoon for her to watch. After she’s settled, he turns to the team.

“What do we got?” He asks, mouth held tensely in a thin line.

Then, with the flourish expected from the director of SHIELD, Nick Fury waltzes into the room, answering Bucky’s question as he goes.

“President Atkins was found dead in the presidential suite of the White House at 9 AM this morning,” he says, taking a seat at the head of the table. He presses his fingers together in a triangle formation, taking on an introspective look of sorts.

A wave of shock passes through the Avengers.

“If we’re all here,” Tony speaks up from his seat at the conference table, “it must not have been a natural death.” He says it as a statement, but it is a question.

“Exactly,” Fury confirms. “We’re not sure who or how, but someone is loose who is capable of breaking through top of the line security without being detected.”

“So, possibly inhuman? Alien?” Bruce muses from Tony’s right.

“Or, it’s a defected SHIELD agent,” a new voice speaks up.

The room’s attention is drawn to a darkened corner of the large conference room. Bucky squints to make out the figure of a man, and he is surprised he hadn’t noticed the stranger before. Then again, one doesn’t have to be on guard at all times when surrounded by Earth’s mightiest.

The faces of the original Avengers team are confused, and Bucky wonders if the stranger is someone they know.

Finally, the man steps forward.

“Sorry to scare you guys. I’ve just always wanted to do that. The light was out in the corner, and I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Coulson?” Steve asks surprised.

“You died in The Battle of New York,” Natasha says, shock evident in her voice.

“Only for a few minutes,” Coulson shrugs with a lighthearted grin.

“Where have you been?” Tony asks tensely.

“Tahiti. It’s a magical place,” Coulson says ominously and with a smile.

Steve, Tony, and Natasha share a look. Coulson makes eye contact with Bucky.

“Sargent Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you! You know, if you have a minute later, I have a trading card of you and,” Coulson rambles only to be cut off by Fury.

“Agent Coulson,” Fury says, quickly ending Coulson’s fanboying and placing the conversation back on track.

Coulson straightens up and nods, clearing his throat.

“Like Director Fury said, President Atkins was found dead in his room this morning. We have reasonable evidence to believe this was an assassination carried out by a former agent.”

“And what evidence is that?” Bucky asks, eyeing Becca in the corner to make sure she’s still occupied with her show.

“Well,” Coulson says, moving to grab the tablet sitting on the conference table. “After the death of the president, two more assassinations took place.

“The Secretary of Defense, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, was found deceased in her home at 11:26 AM, and the Director of Homeland Security, Antonio Smith, was found deceased in his office in the capital building at 12:58 PM.”

“Okay,” Sam speaks up for the first time since Bucky had arrived. “That still doesn’t explain what makes you think a former SHIELD agent is responsible.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Coulson says, turning to a screen on the wall to his right. He taps the tablet and security footage appears.

Bucky and the team—Steve, Tony, Bruce, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Clint—all turn their attention to the screen. Bucky thinks the camera is portraying the backside of the U.S. Capital Building—a camera meant to watch the perimeter.

“SHIELD received this video from a trusted source within the Capital earlier today,” Fury says, nodding for Coulson to play the footage.

The video plays, and seemingly nothing is out of the ordinary at first. The wind gently blows the grass far below the camera, and no one is walking on the pavement directly below the camera. Approximately 30 seconds into the video, though, the camera catches movement in the bottom right corner of the screen. A figure swiftly walks to the edge of the Capital’s platform, quickly looks back over their shoulder, and jumps off the platform.

“Wait, go back,” Tony says.

“Was that?” Wanda asks, looking warily at Natasha who nods to say she saw it, too.

“There’s no way,” Sam says, leaning forward in his seat as if to see the frozen frame better.

“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.

Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.

Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.

“It’s Y/N.”

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ko-fi

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@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

[agentmarvel]

I am absolutely in love with your Nikto Writing. And if you still take prompts (With the emojis) could i ask for one?

Lots of love! -C.

🩷🔪 - "favourite Medic"

oh, i'll be taking prompts for the foreseeable future bc i love these so much! feel free to send more if the desire so strikes!🖤

nikto x fem!reader

cw: none

prompt list here

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

"I'm sorry for the wait," you murmur, pulling the curtain shut behind you. "But you really should've let Hannah stitch you up."

Nikto shakes his head firmly, eyes glued to you. He doesn't trust anyone else. You sigh, taking a pair of pink nitrile gloves from a box on the wall and slipping them on. None of the other medics used the pink ones; they all use blue or black.

"Alright, then. Let's see the damage."

He stands, and you keep an appropriate distance as he shucks his tactical gear and unfastens his belt. You're very polite, averting your gaze as his pants hit the floor. That's one of the things he likes most about you. You're so thoughtful, always conscious of the comfort of company.

Sitting back down, he taps his finger against the frame, alerting you that he's finished. You turn back to him and immediately shake your head, tsking with disapproval at the sight of the lengthy knife wound on his thigh.

"Wanna tell me how you managed this?"

He cracks a smirk beneath his mask, chest jumping with a silent chuckle. You raise an eyebrow, threading your needle with care. It's a challenge, trying to con a few extra words out of him this visit. But he merely shrugs instead. The mirth in his eyes is clarification enough, or so it would seem as you smile up at him before turning your focus to his injury.

"Would you prefer to tell me why you didn't let someone else help you, then?"

"You're my favorite medic," he admits gruffly, tempering the winces that accompany each puncture of your stitches. Briefly, you pause, chancing a glance up at him. You apparently see the sincerity in his reciprocal gaze. The corners of your lips turn up just a little wider, teeth peeking out behind your pretty lips.

"Just don't expect me to kiss this one better, okay?"

[bridgertonbabe]

How would the group chat react if both Francesca and Daphne announce they were hosting Christmas?

It becomes a battle of the hostesses. These Two sisters are as stubborn as they come. (All the sisters are)

How would the Spouses navigate this?

Will there be blood?

BSSG Group Chat

Michael: Hey gang I need to run something by you lot.

Kate: What is it?

Michael: So basically Franny would like to host Christmas this year

Michael: But before she messages the family gc I wanted to give you guys the heads up so we can come up with a way to mitigate the reaction as best we can

Penelope: So when you say mitigate the reaction

Simon: You specifically mean Daph's reaction

Michael: Well yeah

Lucy:

Gareth: the battle of the bridgerton sisters beguneth

Michael: And it's this ↑ exact reaction I'm trying to avoid.

Sophie: I don't see why you and Fran can't be the ones to host Christmas this year. Surely Daphne wouldn't mind having a year off to sit back and relax?

Phillip: Soph it's like you've never met a Bridgerton sister in your entire life.

Kate: Yeah be for real Sophie, what planet are you living on where Daphne wouldn't want to be hostess?

Sophie: Look I know Daph actually enjoys undertaking hosting duties but surely it's a reasonable enough request from Fran of all people to have a go at hosting just this once?

Phillip: Did you just seriously use the word reasonable in conjunction with a Bridgerton?

Gareth: @ Sophie this planet you're living on where bridgertons are reasonable, what's it like?

Gareth: is it utterly free from stress and mayhem?

Gareth: has world peace been achieved there?

Simon: Can I ask why exactly Fran wants to bravely take the helm of hosting Christmas this year?

Michael: Well with it being John's first Christmas she'd just prefer to celebrate it in the comfort of her own home.

Simon: But wouldn't having everyone round make things more stressful?

Michael: To be fair we'd prefer hosting instead of lugging all the baby stuff to someone else's house. It'd just be less hassle plus everyone else will be fussing over John so it's not like we'd be having to juggle him completely alongside hosting.

Simon: So you're playing the baby card?

Lucy:

Penelope:

Gareth:

Kate: Ngl Simon it kind of sounds like you have just as big an issue with them hosting as Daph would.

Simon: Apologies I'm not trying to come across like that. I for one would be more than happy for someone else to host this year. I'm merely preparing Michael for the responses Daph's going to have when you raise this with her.

Michael: No I get you mate.

Simon: And that's not to mention the fact Daph's already started plans to host Christmas.

Penelope: It's August?

Simon: She starts planning on Boxing Day.

Gareth:

Penelope: Yeah can't help but feel like Fran might have to let this one go @ Michael

Kate: It might perhaps be wiser to let sleeping dogs lie on this occasion.

Lucy: and forever more on the subject of hosting christmas

Sophie: Well what if Michael and Fran host at their house but Daphne still plans it all? Wouldn't that work for everyone?

Michael: With all due respect Soph, Fran's not gonna go for that. She wants to host and do things her way. She's about as open for compromise as I very much imagine Daphne is.

Sophie: I suppose. But surely if Fran and Daph sit down and talk things over and Fran explains where she's coming from then Daphne will understand and take a step back this year.

Phillip: Sophie I say this with all the kindness and respect in the world; do we need to get you tested?

Kate: Yeah it's like you're suffering from amnesia or something. Have you hit your head recently?

Gareth: omg what if an alien's switched places with sophie and our sophie is currently living on a planet in an alternate universe where the bridgertons are all actually reasonable and chill??????

Lucy:

Michael: Can we please stick to the matter at hand? Look I get it, Daphne is going to be difficult to talk round to our way of thinking. I know that and am lowkey terrified of her but Franny and I just really want to host everyone for John's first Christmas ok? Is that so difficult a request?

Phillip:

Michael: Really @ Phillip?

Phillip: In my defence El made it ages ago and uses it on the regular.

Penelope: I can vouch for that, that's not the first time I've seen this meme.

Simon: Yeah even I've seen and used it before.

Simon: Just please god don't any of you ever let Daph see it.

Gareth: i feel as though we've all seen/created enough memes about our partners to keep them between ourselves

Simon: Also Daphne's fine with you guys hosting this year.

Kate: Wait what

Phillip: Wtf

Michael: Are you being serious right now?

Simon: I am, she's given it the go ahead and is going to have a year off.

Lucy: omg

Gareth: how the actual fuck did you manage that

Simon: Believe it or not Daph can be open to reason.

Sophie: See, what did I tell you guys!

Gareth: not now alien sophie

Kate: What's the catch?

Simon: No catch. She just agreed it would be easier for Michael and Fran to host Christmas and save them the hassle of towing all of John's stuff to ours this year.

Lucy:

Penelope: And she agreed to it just like that did she?

Simon: Yes.

Michael: ...

Michael: Did she agree to it in a post mindblowing orgasm daze?

Simon: ...

Simon: Perhaps.

Gareth: ayyy lmao nice one 👍

Kate: Yeah that normally does the trick with the Bridgertons.

[thunder-point]

sometimes i think about q and phum’s relationship and how the show could explore more of it if this is a multi seasons kind of show. because q and phum seemingly do not have much in common but they’re also the closest people to peem so assumingly, they are the two people who know peem the best. so like imagine it’s peem’s birthday and phum wants to get peem something a bit more personal and creative and he knows peem loves art and anything related to so he got peem this really expensive wooden paintbrush box and he casually mentions this to toey. and q who sits next to him mumbles out, “if you want it to be personal, how about trying to paint something on it.”

ensue q teaching phum to pain. and this interaction could be so funny, because q could definitely acts like a dick just to fuck around with phum and he’ll show phum those “draw one line then connect the other line” methods and phum would grit it though his teeth, “im not an idiot i know how to draw a rectangular” and they’ll be talking over each other with q going “yeah mr ‘not an idiot’ what the fuck is this shit? that’s supposed to be a cloud why is your cloud circular ?????” and they’ll be fighting and arguing so much and the painting lesson is taking way longer than it should. over the span of the next couple of days, they’ll be leaving together amid group hangouts and peem is just looking at them like what the fuck could those two be doing together because they rarely had a one of one interaction let alone actually hanging out together.

needless to say, this definitely brings phum and q closer together and yeah they still don’t have much in common and they’re both pretty sarcastic and stubborn. bad combinations to be put together. but phum likes to pay for everything and q is just in it for the free food. they also go to each other for relationship advices and q often just tells phum he’s a fucking idiot which isn’t really helpful and phum prefers a much more constructive criticism but he’s no gonna lie, sometime that’s exactly what he needs to hear

this ask has me in me feels star what the fuck I'm so overwhelmed with love for both these boys LISTEN q and phum interacting is actually one of my favorite things. i could actually watch or read hundred of hours of them just talking to each other and you nailed the vibe PERFECTLY

like yes they would jump off each other's asshole-ish tendencies and have a back and-forth that's seemingly never-ending but i also just imagine rare moments where they both just sit in each other's silence, being more far off quiet than other people, and have low-murmured conversations that maybe hit a bit too hard. because they've both made mistakes in the past, and they know how it feels to be hopeless thinking you can't make up for them and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

thank you so much for this ask and for feeding into my q x phum friendship headcanons because i just. i really love them so much.

[yardofangels]

merry christmas gorgeous! how are you doing? hope you get a big ass Austrian under the tree this year! that being said, what does König think of christmas traditions? does he have a favorite? what kinds of gifts does he get?

omg merry christmas and happy holidays!!

im doing okay, so so so tired. working retail this christmas season has me DEAAADDDD

but this idea has me AAAALLLIIIIIVVVEEEEEE

unfortunately, no Austrian under my tree. devastating, really. but hopefully if there's no Austrian here, they must be with you!!

making the executive decision here to add a little smut. maybe its self indulgence, but i know some of ya'll will enjoy it, you little nasties. feel free to skip it if you like, everything non-smut related comes first!!!

---

könig loves christmas. perhaps it's his central european upbringing, but he finds the spirit really comforting and reminisces over all the traditions from his childhood. he's not particularly into the 'white christmas' thing, he much prefers a christmas adorned with a little sense of spooky and will relate aaaalllllll the krampus myths to you by the light of the fire. just to see if he's able to scare you because he's mean

his favourite part of christmas is the food. the warm, home-cooked meals. the spices and seasonings that have you feeling toasty and calm well after the embers die out. he is truly impressed when you make a batch of pfeffernüse, and he surprises you with a bottle of his! own! mulled! wine!

he hands it over looking so proud of himself. a big cheesy grin on his face as he's already grabbing two glasses, so he can get your reaction to a taste test.

and he of course hits the nail on the head. it's delicious. he should be proud of himself!!

as for gift-giving, he struggles a bit when getting you gifts. as per usual, christmas always sneaks up on him far too quickly, and all of a sudden there are five days till he's supposed to give you something and he hasn't thought about it, much less started shopping.

but, he pulls it off!! success!! you watch as the space under the tree slowly gets filled over the course of the week. his gifts for you finally joining your gifts for him.

he pampers you, naturally. how could he not? generally steers to all the things that are going to make you feel pretty or expensive, because he wants you to feel like you look good, too.

buys you expensive-smelling perfume he swears you mentioned in march, skin-care you might have brought up in may, a book or two he thinks you told him about in july, a pair of shoes you raved about in september, a dress he saw in november that reminded him of you, and more.

he really does stun you with how much he remembers, and the fact that he did almost matters more to you than the gifts themselves. he puts so much thought into what he gifts you, and then has the audacity to ask you if it's enough. if you like them.

you pounce on him, knocking his stupid little christmas hat off and sending him backwards, dragging you with him. you giggle and cover him in kisses, mumbling in between them how wonderful he did. that you love it. he lights up, squeezing you tighter.

he stops you for a moment, saying he has one more thing.

pulls out a little box from his pocket, and drops it into your hand. watches with delight as you pop the lid and see a customised necklace, with a little pendant that says "K." on it. you get a bit teary, and ask him why he got this in particular for you.

he tells you it's so nobody mistakes that you belong to him.

alr a bit of smut below!!

GOOOOOOOD does he love sex in december. he loves how sensitive you are to his cold hands trailing your body, he loves how hot you get when you're trapped by his body heat and the thick blankets, he loves you in those skimpy pjs that do nothing to shield you from the freezing air, he loves that you always beg him to warm you up.

but he won't just take you in the bed on the cold nights. nope. he'll have his way with you anywhere. he doesn't know what it is, but he always seems to get more horny in the cold months. he just can't help himself, he'll do it anywhere.

in the kitchen while you're cooking dinner, lifting you onto the countertop so he can bury himself in you.

on the couch in the afternoon, letting his hand slide up between your thighs, then telling you to concentrate on the movie until you cave and crawl into his lap.

in the steamy morning showers you share, claiming that your gingerbread-scented body wash makes you smell too good to resist.

all through the month, his go-to excuses are "you're cold", "i'm cold", or "it's an early present." he's almost relentless, so you come to make a guessing game out of which one it's going to be. you always tease him about it, but it's not his fault! you just keep him so warm and cozy :((

ADOOOOORES cock-warming on the particularly nippy nights, too. he promises it's for sharing body heat and that it isn't uncommon among couples in the winter where he's from. but you know that's a bold-faced lie, you see the glint in his eye. you can feel the way he throbs inside you, and clenches his jaw against the skin on your neck.

nothing confirms that he's lying more, though, than when you are gently awoken by him. you think it must be serious, because he's usually adament on not waking you up.

but you turn your head and his entire face is red, with his puppy dog eyes staring at you.

"i can't concentrate on anything else, meine liebe. you were squeezing me in your sleep. please, let me take you. you'll be even warmer with my cum in you."

[rebouks]

Custom Rig / SimRipper Tutorial

Hi hello, welcome to todays lecture! Nah it's real simple even if it doesn't look it, I promise! I'm gonna go ahead and assume you have some basic knowledge of Blender/pose making for this tutorial, so I won't be going over how to set up your rigs or anything. Feel free to ask me any questions though! My previous pose tutorial is here if that's what you're looking for.

Disclaimer: I use this process to rip sims for posing only, idk if it's different for making renders 'cause that I ain't my jam. Although I assume it's pretty similar.

You're gonna need Blender (I use 2.79b but I'm pretty sure the newer version works okay for posing too) and SimRipper which you can get here...

Blender (2.79b) SimRipper

First things first, you're gonna wanna dress your sims! Just go in game like you usually would and once you're done dressing 'em you can save and exit. Hint: SimRipper will load up your sim wearing the outfit they're dressed in when you exit the game. I usually make sure they're wearing the right outfit before I quit. You can load up other ones later but it can take a while so it just saves some time.

Okay! Once your simmies are dressed and you've downloaded the SimRipper/extracted the file, double click on the .exe to open the application. You'll be greeted with this:

Click "Retry" to set up the correct paths then hit save. (I only needed to set up the first one so I'll assume you do too! If not just let it know where everything's installed)

Once you've hit save the application will open! Hit "Select" on the right and choose the correct save file, like so:

Hint: SimRipper is slow so don't worry if it says Not Responding or seems to take a while, it's pretty normal. The less sims/outfits there are in a save file, the quicker it'll work. You can make a blank save to make it faster but I don't bother; it doesn't take too long and I can't be arsed. You'll be greeted with a long list of all the sims in that save file. Find and click on the sim you wanna rip:

Once your sim has loaded up there's a couple of things we wanna change:

Change the top drop down menu to "Solid and glass meshes and textures" - this'll make it easier to get rid of eyelashes etc later (we don't really need those for posing and they get in the way of the eyes)

Click HQ - it'll look better, trust me!

You can change their outfit here too if they're not wearing the right one - though it'll take a while to load up again.

I like to hit the "Tanned" option, especially for paler sims, since blender seems to really wash them out and it hurts my eyes 😂 - personal preference though!

Once everything's set you'll need to click on "DAE" near the top right, this'll save your sim as a .dae file ready for blender. Again, it might take a while! Once you're done, you should have these files:

Okie doke! Now we're off to Blender. Open up your rig and click the little plus to the left of it to extend the menu. You're gonna right click on each of these body parts like "bottom" "feet" etc etc and hit delete until they're all gone.

Once you've deleted every body part, you'll be left with an empty rig like this:

Now that our rig is empty, we can import our .dae file! Go to "File" -> "Import" -> "Collada (Default) (.dae) like so:

Find your .dae file and double click on it to import it. Hint: I like to make a separate folder for my .dae files and I regularly delete 'em once I've saved my rig. I like tidy files!

Hi Oscar! I'mma go ahead and right click on this extra lamp that was imported and hit delete 'cause I don't need it! You can keep it if your eyes aren't sensitive little babies like mine, it doesn't matter much.

Okay.. so now we should have a "rig" and a "rig.001"! Click the little plus signs to the left again so you can see what's in the hierarchy of each one, and then:

Click the upside down orange triangle of your sim from the "rig.001" rig and drag it up to the first one, then drop it on top of "rig"

A box should come up like the one below and you wanna click on "Object"

All we've done here is move Oscar (or whoever) from the extra imported rig to the original. We don't need that extra rig or the glass textures (the eyelashes etc) anymore so get rid of it by right clicking it and hitting "Delete Hierarchy" like so: Hint: "Delete Hierarchy" is different from "Delete" and gets rid of the whole hierarchy (shocker) at once!

I like to rename my rigs, it can get complicated when you start posing more than one sim so naming them just makes it easier. Double click on where it says "rig" then rename it:

Now we need to attach your sim to the rig, as below!

Left click on the sim (aka "OscarFinch" in this case)

Head to the toolbar just below and click on the little wrench/spanner.

A little further down, click on the box beneath "Object:" and choose your sim/rig

In this case it's called "OSCAR", but if you didn't rename your rig it'll still be called "rig".

And that's it, you now have a custom rig 👍 Just make sure you save it!

You can go ahead and click on the little plus/minus to hide the drop down/extra info of the rig and start posing! \o/

Once you've done this a couple of times you won't even have to think about it anymore! I do it almost everyday and I had to really pay attention to what I was doing for this tutorial 'cause I was like ??? when I tried to think how I do it lmao.

They're so much more fun to work with than the base rigs, no more clipping, better facial expressions, poses with clothes in mind?! Amazing 😌

Extra Hint! If you rip a sim who's dressed with a pose accessory assigned to a stigmata joint, it'll still move as if you imported that accessory via blender. I randomly found this out by accident but it might save you some time!

I hope you found this easy enough to follow, but lmk if you have any questions! I think this is one of those things everyone kinda does a bit differently. Like.. one tut I saw you had to add the textures in separately n' shit? Idk that one confused me so this is how I do it and it works, so I hope it does for you too! ❤

Happy SimRipping! (sounds kinda painful, doesn't it? ouch)

[l0t4n]

CAN THEY DRIVE??

a/n this is my first time posting to this account... Exciting... Please feel free to lmk any of ur thoughts I feel like I kinda exaggerated certain characters teehee

Contains the brothers + dateables. Occasional mentions of gn mc. Truly about their driving skill

LUCIFER

-yes, has his driver's license

-puts on the appearance of someone who is good at driving and well-adjusted

-when he's alone or when things ramp up even a little, however, his road rage is actually insane

-will literally lay on the horn at anyone who slights him, even a little

-when he's not alone and feels the need to protect his pride, will still be an angry driver but in a far more subtle way

-turns on his high beams, rides people's bumpers, cuts people off and break-checks them any time he can't quite make a big scene

-even when he isn't driving, he's an insane backseat driver, but to different degrees depending on who's driving

-occasionally backseat drives for Beel, Asmo or Satan but definitely plays it up just to mess with Mammon in particular

-will backseat drive for mc out of concern rather than jest

-still annoying

-good at driving on the surface but his anger makes him far more prone to accidents than most, third best driver out of the brothers

MAMMON

-Yes, has his license - otherwise the car in his room would be redundant

-surprisingly good at driving, understands and obeys traffic laws, overly cautious at times

-not out of genuine respect for those laws, just out of care for his car

-wouldn't bother being subtle if another driver pulls a maneuver that has the potential to mess up his paint job, will scream out the window or lay on the horn

-immediately stops and speeds off if the other driver tries to reciprocate

-will be SO annoying if anyone tries to eat or drink in his car

-even water he'll demand is thrown out before entry

-his brothers hate it. Isn't as harsh about it towards mc, but will quickly revoke their special privileges if they end up actually spilling something

-constant cycle of those cologne-y tree air fresheners hanging from his rear view mirror

-has a million more unopened ones in the glove box

-car is clean at a glance, but trash is just barely hidden out of sight under car seats and in cup holders

-honestly pretty reliable driver, second best out of all his brothers

LEVIATHAN

-no, doesn't have a driver's license or a car

-says it's because he wouldn't even have anywhere to go, is partially correct in that assertion

-Mammon and Asmo tried to teach him to drive a while ago, he wanted to drive to a convention that was farther away

-couldn't so much as put the car in drive without panicking that he was imminently at threat of hitting something

-any time his foot even grazed the gas, he'd slam the breaks to the floor

-didn't take long to start crying about it

-Mammon stopped the short-lived lessons there, didn't want Levi's tears to ruin the interior of his car

-any time Levi needs a ride now, he'll either walk (very short distances), use public transportation (only if he can secure an isolated seat away from everyone else), or ask one of his brothers for a ride

-prefers when Barbatos drives him places the most and Mammon the least, although probably ends up being driven by Asmo the most

-if he did have a car, it would undoubtedly be painful

-COVERED in anime decals, maybe a custom wrap of Ruri-chan

-would probably be decent at driving if he got over his initial fears, but that's not going to happen

SATAN

-yes, he has his driver's license - it's just frequently suspended

-unlike Lucifer, will not wait until he's alone to exhibit severe road rage

-even worse than Lucifer, isn't above getting out of the car and slamming his fists against the driver's side window of whoever he's mad at

-backseat of his car is piled high with books he doesn't have room for at the HoL

-”sorry, you can just throw those in the back” -Satan, any time mc is trying to get into the front seat of his car

-seats and interior are probably also coated in cat hair, he can't stand to get rid of it

-so anyways back to his horrible road rage

-his repeated verbal (and physical) assaults on other drivers means his license is repeatedly (often) suspended

-when he needs transportation during these times he usually defaults to Beel

-on the few occasions he needs to resort to riding with Lucifer, he intentionally does shit to get him into trouble - diverting his eyes from the road and ruining his focus, reaching over and wiggling the wheel from Lucifer's hands, etc

-doesn't seem to truly question why his license, after being repeatedly suspended, has yet to be permanently revoked from him

-nor why it keeps getting reinstated faster than promised

-hint: it's Lucifer

-not a very good driver at all - being on the road has a way of bringing out anger even in people who are not normally prone to it, and sadly, Satan is nothing if not prone to anger

-when he isn't angry, he's exceptional at following traffic laws and probably has obscure details about them memorized

-jumps out of his car, even on the busiest intersections, whenever he sees a cat on the side of the road

-takes it home every time without fail

-this is actually a more pressing reason to keep him off the road compared to the traffic violations in the mind of Lucifer

-fifth best driver out of the brothers

ASMODEUS

-yes, has his driver's license

-his car is fucking insane

-fluffy pink steering wheel cover and dashboard cover AND seat covers, maybe a little leopard print thrown in, but only a little he's not an animal

-car is more heavily perfumed than Mammon’s, his air freshener hanging right next to the fluffy dice off of his rear view mirror

-backseat windows are tinted and one-directional, for Reasons

-will not drive unless music is blasting at full volume

-you can feel the vibrations from Britney Spears’s (or devildom equivalent) dulcet tones in your seat

-constantly on his phone while driving, taking photos and videos of himself, occasionally livestreaming

-projects the image of someone who does not care about traffic laws

-secretly a very good driver, never gets into accidents

-significantly more forgiving of other cars and much less prone to road rage than his brothers

-the best driver out of all of them

BEELZEBUB

-yes, has his license

-probably the most unremarkable driver out of all of them

-only got his license to take Belphie places, since he was the only one out of the two who could actually stay awake behind the wheel

-his shortcomings do not lie in his sin like Satan or Lucifer, but instead just from being a beefbrain

-not very perceptive, especially when he's driving to a restaurant or something - easily distracted by other goals and forgets the most important goal of driving

-don't hit things

-doesn't ever end up in a major accident, but may need to slam on the breaks from time to time

-apologizes accordingly for these instances

-car is overall not notable, depending on when you enter

-Lucifer makes him clean it weekly, otherwise fast food wrappers accumulate to the point of blocking the windshield

-keeps a pillow and blanket in the car for Belphie to nap with

-not a terrible driver, but not excellent either - fourth best out of the brothers

BELPHEGOR

-no driver's license

-literally no way he's going to stay awake behind the wheel

-tried to learn how to drive first so he could drive Beel places, but fell asleep while driving enough times and ran into enough things that they will not let him anymore

-felt apologetic about it at first, but got used to being driven by Beel everywhere quickly

-the movement of the car lulls him right to sleep anyways

-even if it isn't Beel driving he will fall asleep

-would prefer to sprawl out over the back seats but can fold himself up in the front seat if need be

-if he was capable of staying awake, would probably be a decent driver, if not very passive-aggressive

-would chronically drive under the speed limit like he's elderly

DIAVOLO

-Yes, has a driver's license - Barbatos insisted he got one, yet he hardly ever uses it

-almost always escorted places by designated chauffeurs or, less commonly, Barbatos himself

-thought getting his license would be his ticket to freedom, his teenage girl escape

-was so upset when he found out he wasn't even allowed to go to the DMV, everything was filed from the castle

-felt deprived of yet another commoner experience, still doesn't know why everyone hates the DMV so bad

-(stands for “devildom motor vehicles”)

-driving was fun for him at first, but since he doesn't really get the chance to drive normally it stopped being fun after a while

-even when he does get to drive, Barbatos’s backseat driving is insane

-double whammy if Lucifer is in the car too

-actually a pretty good driver, made sure to be responsible and study laws and techniques in advance

-doesn't even understand the concept of road rage, probably laughs it off every time someone pulls a dangerous maneuver in his proximity

-better driver than Lucifer, yet not on par with Asmo

BARBADOS

-yes, of COURSE he has a driver's license

-he's the one virtually everyone defaults to when they need a ride, anyways

-primarily transports Diavolo, but frequently helps the brothers get around too

-literally the safest possible driver you could ever dream of

-always doing the exact speed limit. Predicts unsafe drivers in his vicinity before they're even in his line of sight. Never slams the breaks or swerves for any reason

-got distracted once while parking, lightly scraped a curb

-the most horrified he's ever been

-dedicated the next few years to improving his driving skill, even though it was already exceptional

-dedicated driving gloves for every time he gets in the car

-very anal retentive about cleanliness in the car, especially

-hates having to crawl in there to clean shit up

-will obviously end up doing it eventually anyways. Sigh

-easily the best driver out of every other character, if not in the entire devildom

SIMEON

-no, he doesn't have a driver's license

-so fucking scared of cars

-he can hardly use a phone properly, still manages to cause problems with that, although understands how it could be worse

-a car is where it gets worse

-if he misclicks something on his phone, he may end up embarrassing himself a little, worst case scenario is a virus or needing to buy a new phone

-operating a car incorrectly could result in injury or death

-nobody bothers teaching him regardless, although he did greatly consider learning for a while, to help Luke get around easier

-just defaults to Barbatos instead

-it's probably a good thing he doesn't drive - without that fear of technology, especially of technology with high capacity to be harmful, he would probably be one of the worst drivers overall

SOLOMON

-yes, has a driver's license. Regrettably

-hardly uses it, only has a human world license, never bothered getting licensed in the devildom

-just teleports everywhere. Wiggles his fingers and does magic and goes where he wants instantly

-he literally predates the invention of cars so massively anyways so that's definitely what he did before cars too

-got a license because he thought it would be fun

-also the human world started actually cracking down on ID, he couldn't get away with the trust-based system that humanity used to operate off of

-human world officials are confused when he presents them with a driver's license twenty whole years out of date, however

-especially when his face is the exact same as the photo on his crazy old, visibly weathered license - as if he mysteriously hadn't aged…

-probably ends up in some kind of “man from Taured” style myth eventually

-might be the man from Taured actually

-fucking sucks at driving also