#hes just sooooooo * clenches fist*

[timeforsomethrillingheroicsblog]

live reaction to me realizing i've become every fan i hate and gone full into babygirlification of a morally complex character

[orcelito]

Anytime I think about how much Vash loves to play with kids, I go a little bit insane

And then I think about how soft Wolfwood is towards kids & how protective he is of them. And I go even more insane.

These two really go so well together...

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining

I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~

Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one

TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out

🪽The King of Pining🪽

This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.

“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”

Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.

“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.

Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.

“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.

When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.

“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.

“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.

“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”

As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?

“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.

~night of the party~

You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…

A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.

Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.

Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.

From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.

With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.

“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.

“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”

Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.

Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.

“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”

Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.

The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.

Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.

“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“

You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.

Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.

Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.

With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.

“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.

“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.

[hom3landr]

Homelander has a very merry Christmas

18+

Homelander shakes his head in disbelief as he lounges in his chair at the head of the Seven table. It’s been a year…a whole year since the day you entered his life. He still has the ribbon from that first package, tucked discreetly into his waistband. It’s frayed now and soft from running it through his fingers. He’ll touch his hip softly sometimes, right where he knows it rests, when his ears ring and his eyes begin to burn. Countless lives have been saved just from a little piece of fabric. It was the first gift he’d ever truly been given that didn’t have dozens of corporate strings attached. He wonders if you’ll bring him more candy, now that Christmas is right around the corner. He can still perfectly remember the taste a year later.

But your hands are empty when he sees you, and there’s a nervous stiffness to your shoulders that he’s not sure he enjoys. You’re fiddling with your fingers as you approach. He’s disappointed, he really was looking forward to some candy. But you give him a shy smile and he pushes down the sullenness rising in his chest. You hop up on the table in front of him, a bad habit you’ve picked up ever since that day you brought him the cake. He supposes that’s on him for encouraging you. He ignores the urge to tug you into his lap instead.

“Sooooooo…I don’t have anything for you today but I did want to ask you something.” You look down at your hands before pausing, trying to spark the courage to continue. He tilts his head and waits, somewhat impatient and still annoyed at being denied. He doesn’t like the way you don’t meet his eyes. Surely your fingers can’t be more interesting than him. You take a deep breath.

“IwaswonderingifmaybeyouwantedtocometomyplaceforChristmas?” The words come spilling out uncontrollably and you stiffen up a bit once they’re out, bracing yourself for a denial.

Homelander’s heart stops.

“I know you’re probably really busy and you have plans and other people you’d rather be with.” He doesn’t. “But I was going to make gingerbread and watch some Christmas movies. I don’t have any family close by or…or friends really, so I usually spend Christmas on my own. It won’t be anything fancy but I’ll let you lick the spoon.” You let out an awkward laugh, obviously insecure about the simplicity of your plans. After all, how can your humble apartment compare to Vought’s glitz and finery? How could Homelander be content spending Christmas with a nobody like you?

If you only knew how much the offer wiped away any of the disappointment he felt about the candy. If only you knew how much he’s been longing to join you in the sugar-sweetness of your kitchen. He wants to leap up and take you in his arms. He wants to agree and whisk you away to start the holidays early…and privately. He’s never had a proper Christmas before. Just Vought’s pretty, sterile, fake, holiday bullshit. He found it cruel the way they’d let him watch movies on Christmas when he was in the lab. He still can’t watch A Christmas Story without feeling sick with want. But maybe…maybe this year will finally be different.

But reality sets in. He has the Vought Christmas party. He can’t skip it, as much as he’d love to. He’s been dreading it honestly. She’d always been there before, guiding him, leading him, making sure he got through the event with his shiny grin firmly in place. But that was gone, ended by his own hand. The last fucking bit of Christmas cheer he could have possibly had. He clenches his fist and he watches you shrink back, mistaking his grief for anger at your boldness. He wants to say yes…but he can’t

“We have the company Christmas party, remember? Surely you wouldn’t want to miss that. I get the honor of lighting up the tree” He beams, hoping it assures you that you are not the target of his ire. Sure he’d prefer to be tucked away with you but the party won’t be too bad if you’re there. If you’re there then her absence won’t matter.

But his hopes are quickly dashed.

“Oh I’m not high enough up on the totem pole to be invited, for business or pleasure.” You shrug, clearly not bothered by the corporate snub.

Oh

“Well…I can’t exactly miss it.” Your face falls at his reply and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“But if you don’t mind staying up a little later, then maybe I can swing by real quick after to grab a cookie or two.” He reaches out to lay a hand warmly on your knee

You return his grin despite the disappointment in your eyes.

“I’ll wait up for you then”

~~~~~~~

It’s late by the time he’s finally released from his shiny decorated prison. He’s sick to death of Frank Sinatra and mistletoe. He barely resisted crushing the hand of every asshole who felt entitled to his attention purely due to the holiday festivities. He gritted his teeth while he was forced to kiss the asses of board members and politicians. He barely avoided lasering A-Train’s head clean off his body when he wrapped his arm around him for a photo op. He’s so overloaded that he’s halfway to his penthouse for some much needed rest when he remembers your offer.

He pulls aside some tipsy asshole for the time, annoyed that no one seems to have remained sober. It’s not long until midnight and he worries that maybe you’ll already have given up waiting. He worries that he’ll get to your apartment to find you already snug and sleeping in your bed. He reminds himself that he can always wake you up. After all, he’s seen you bake until the wee hours of the morning. He remembers when he’d watch you bake till not long before you’d be needing to rise for work. Surely…surely, you haven’t forgotten to wait for him.

The night is frigid as he flies towards your apartment. The cold doesn’t hinder him but it isn’t exactly pleasant as the sharp wind stings his cheeks. He’d always wave away Maeve’s complaints but he reluctantly admits to himself that she had a point about freezing over the Atlantic. Luckily it’s a far shorter path to your apartment building. So he ignores it. The thought of you keeps him warm anyway.

What he can’t ignore is the distinctly human shaped figure waiting on the roof. He knows your form intimately and he’s clocked you the moment he sees you. You’re shivering, wrapped only in an old threadbare bathrobe over some red pajamas. It’s far too cold to be loitering without winter wear and an exasperated concern grows in his chest. Couldn’t you at least have grabbed a jacket? It wouldn’t do for you to catch hyperthermia before he even gets to celebrate Christmas with you. You haven’t seen him yet and he makes sure to land behind you as quietly as he can, lip twitching mischievously.

“Are you cold? You look like you’re freezing” He calls out from the other side of the roof. You leap into the air and stumble a bit too close to the edge for his liking so he rushes to steady you. Even through his gloves he can feel how chilled you are. You look back at him, disbelief on your face but surprised delight in your eyes. You shake in his arms and before his brain consciously makes the decision to, he swiftly detaches his cape to wrap it warmly around your shoulders. Your cheeks heat despite the chill and he’s deeply pleased by the way you look and the way his scent mixes with yours.

“I’m alright. I was waiting for you! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to make it.” You clasp his cape tighter around you, teeth chattering. He pulls you closer so some of his heat can seep into you. He realizes that you may have been too focused watching for him to realize how chilled you are. He tuts at you, both flattered by your devotion and annoyed that you were so careless with your health.

“Would it have killed you to grab a coat?” He rubs your frozen hands between his gloved ones. Your answering smile is sweet and he’d blush if he could (He can. He did.)

“Are you worried about me?” You tease him lightly, eyes soft.

“I was promised gingerbread. If I’m promised something then I expect it to be delivered” He gives you a stern glare that’s tempered by the slight twitch of his lip as he fights a smile.

“Well, I can’t possibly deny you, can I?” Your lips quirk into a cheeky smirk. Your lighthearted words settle warm and heavy in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you feel so beautifully fragile in his grip, a small precious light that he keeps warm between his palms. You’re his. You’re so wonderfully his in this moment and deep within him, so deep he doesn’t even realize it yet, he’s become inescapably, completely, ineffably, yours.

You gesture for him to follow you down the fire escape to your floor. He follows behind as though he doesn’t have the way to your apartment imprinted in his mind. But your legs are stiff from the cold and after you slip slightly on the slick metal of the fire escape, he scoops you into his arms. You cling to him, stunned at the quickness and ease at which he gathered you up against his chest. You’re disoriented and wrap an arm around his neck to steady yourself.

“Don’t drop me!” you squeak and he laughs in response. You’re light as a feather to him and he’s not hindered by you at all. He would never, could never drop you.

“I won’t let you go, ever.” He reassures you and you relax against him, trusting him. You tuck yourself into the crook of his neck, and all of a sudden he has a sharp regret that his collar rises so high on his neck. He longs to feel your softness and your eyelashes brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat. He can’t resist leaning his head against yours as he climbs effortlessly down the thin and rickety steps.

When he reaches your apartment, he assists you in finding your footing and guides you inside. You don’t question how he’s able to navigate your apartment with ease. Stepping into your kitchen is like getting reborn into another life, a life that he had been cruelly denied. You’ve decorated every inch. False snow lines the top of your cabinets and it charms him to see tiny figures and miniature buildings tucked into the fuzzy winter wonderland. Mismatched bowls of ingredients line the counter, and deep red liquid smelling strongly of spice is steaming on the stove. It smells heavenly. It’s the same scent he normally loathes, the artificial scent burning his nose and giving him headaches, one of the few pains that he can experience. But there is nothing faked or imitated here and the rich smell makes his head swim pleasantly. His mouth waters and his jaw aches at the sweet spicy deliciousness in the air. It’s lovely and warm and you immediately shake off the shiver as you enter.

He blinks back sudden tears at the sight of a brightly lit tree twinkling merrily in the corner of the living room, a yule log crackling on the television. It’s perfect. Your tiny crumbling apartment that he would have scoffed at in any other time, is suddenly finer than any palace. His chest tightens almost painfully.

“It’s not much but I did my best to make it festive! The cookie dough is chilling in the fridge and there is as much eggnog and mulled wine as you could want. Help yourself.” You nod at the pot on the stove, hands on your hips, looking as confident as he’s ever seen you now that you’re in your domain. It’s not normally the response he gets when someone sees him in their home. He takes a brief scan of your fridge.

“Just milk for me, thank you.” He responds and you shrug and take a glass out of the cabinet. You fill it up full and hand it over. He takes a big chug. 2%

Perfect

“Well, I’m gonna have myself some mulled wine.” You grab another glass and fill yourself up a healthy serving. A tiny sip has you sighing deeply in pleasure and he wants nothing more than to lick the remnants off your lips. Your temperature is rising by the second and when he’s satisfied that you’re sufficiently warmed he relaxes a bit, wandering around your kitchen to look at everything.

You busy yourself taking a large bowl of dough out of the fridge and lining the counter and a baking sheet with parchment paper and a light dusting of flour. He’s distracted looking through all your cabinets. Nothing of yours is very fancy and it’s all a bit mismatched which he finds charming in a quaint kind of way. He rifles through your dish towels, smelling them to see if your scent still lingers. Then you tap him on the shoulder. He turns to find you with your head cocked and your arms wrapped around a large bowl, eyes shining and bright

“I promised gingerbread but first you have to help.” You wink at his baffled expression before turning around to begin scooping out the dough onto the parchment paper. “And take off your gloves! This stuff can get sticky.”

He’s still standing there frozen when you hand him a rolling pin. He frowns at it disdainfully before raising a skeptical eyebrow. This is so…beneath him.

“C’mon, let your inner kid out a little. I promise it tastes better when you’ve helped make it.” You shake the rolling pin at him.

Inner kid

You don’t have a single fucking clue.

He grumpily removes his gloves. He feels naked without them. He feels so raw, the Christmas cheer welcome but also a painful reminder of everything he was denied. He wants to be here but he feels unsure how to exist in a space when there are no expectations, no predetermined role he can play. Shedding the gloves feels like shedding a layer of skin but he can’t deny you when you look at him like that. You’re still wearing his cape around his shoulders and a sharp possessive pang runs through him.

His

He reaches out to grab the rolling pin.

“Normally people avoid giving me heavy blunt objects” He remarks dryly, although he quickly regrets it. It doesn’t seem to phase you though. You’ve heard the stories.

“You are a heavy blunt object capable of plenty of damage so I don’t think handing you a rolling pin is going to make much difference. Now get to work while I preheat the oven” You reach out to gently push him towards the dough.

He stares at it, frozen.

The dings from the oven ring in his ears.

It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do. The mechanics of a rolling pin are not difficult to fucking grasp. It’s just…none of this feels real. It feels like he’s still back in this lab and this is some cruel dream that will fade away into empty white. It’s like making one wrong move will shatter everything

He can’t lose this.

“Here! The recipe says ⅛ of an inch so you’ll need to roll it like this.” Your breath is hot on his ear as you lean in behind him.

Your hands rest tenderly on top of his as you gently guide him.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Your touch burns and a ravenous monster wakes in his chest. It howls and wails against the prison of his ribcage. He can smell you, hear your heart racing, practically taste the heavy scent of your soaking cunt into the air. The wood creaks under his grip as your thumb brushes against his. His cock is hard and leaking into the tight spandex of his pants. The ribbon on his hip is like a brand; like your hands are on him there too.

Fuck the cookies

The throb of his cock urges him to devour your brown sugar pussy instead.

But as strong as the sudden rush of his arousal, it pales in comparison to the prickling sting of tears at such a kind touch. The last person to touch him like this was…

Fake

Just like everything else

Except you

Except this.

A quiet sob escapes him but if you notice then you don’t acknowledge it. You just keep pushing your palms against his hands in a steady rhythm, the dough easily giving way. Your body rocks against his and the softness of you warms him to the core. He sees the flutter of his own cape out of the corner of his eye.

His

You’re his.

The whole world narrows down to only the two of you.

He could stay here forever with you. Life with you could be like Christmas for eternity. He’d never be alone. You’d never be alone. Just gingerbread scented air and mulled wine, and your body pressed to his forever.

“Alrighty! That just about does it. We just need to get out the cookie cutters and we’ll be good to go.” You pull back.

Something inside him snaps and he turns and grabs your shoulder, tugging you into him. You blink owlishly at him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He reaches out to caress your cheek, relishing the warmth against his bare hand. You lay your hand over his although you make no move to pull away.

“I…” His breath catches.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask breathlessly

You don’t wait for an answer before shyly pressing your lips to his. It lasts barely a second before you're pulling back with a smug little smile. You point up and he barks out an incredulous laugh.

Mistletoe

A sprig of fucking mistletoe is attached to the ceiling.

“I thought you always spent Christmas alone.” He remarks, lips still burning. He’s dreaming. He’s…this can’t be real.

You chuckle.

“I’m not alone this year.” You respond before giving him another sweet kiss that he eagerly returns.

You taste exactly like brown sugar.

He giggles into the press of your lips

Merry fucking Christmas.

[mamani-bento]

what you're willing to give (satoru gojo)

satoru gojo x reader, 1.3k, gender not mentioned

fwb!gojo + 'if we get caught kissing in a small, dark, kind of shady alleyway, it's on you.' from this prompt list, highly suggestive making out + fluff + humour (?)

summary - gojo wants more. you want more. the only difference is that he can admit it, but he likes you enough to wait until you can too.

minors do not interact!

i wrote this and i'm sooooooo at his characterisation here, this goes under fics-that-are-SO-well-set-up-for-a-sequel i'm a genius sometimes, fwb!gojo has not left my head since i read this incredible fic by @staryukis

mamani-bento's masterlist!

gojo doesn't understand why you're complaining, honestly.

okay, he sort of does, but he doesn't understand why you're still complaining.

"do you want to stop?"

your answer takes a bit longer to emerge, and gojo can't help the smug grin against the side of your neck. he continues to nip and lave at your skin, paying special attention to a slowly-forming bruise near your jugular as he waits for your response.

"stop–ah!–stop fucking smiling."

gojo does not stop smiling, but he does lay off your neck, moving his lips upwards and catching your swollen ones with a low chuckle instead.

"so mouthy," he mumbles into shared breath, delighting in the reactionary tightening of your clenched fists in his hair. he can't help the groan he lets out at the feeling, and his large palm grips harder at the plump flesh of your thigh hooked over his hip. his body presses further into your front, pushing you against the wall. his long fingers curl at your scalp and he can feel the scrape of uneven stone against the back of his hand.

sighing pants and moaned kissing fill the dark alley behind the pub. gojo loves his friends, he really does, but he can't possibly be expected to pay attention to them inside when you're wearing that.

"i didn't think this would do it for you," you airily breathe out as gojo lets your leg down, groping at the flesh of your ass instead.

he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, revelling in the gasp he's rewarded with. "liar," he mutters, no real heat behind his words. "you absolutely knew that this would do it for me."

he could die with the sound of your giggle in his ear and he'd be happy as a clam. he's been feeling like he could die a lot this evening, ever since you entered in that outfit and made him nearly choke on air at the sight.

you trace kisses down the long column of his neck, and his eyes flutter shut at the pleasure. he gives your ass one last squeeze, large palms smoothing over the thin fabric of your panties, before he finally moves his hand out of your tiny skirt.

you had come to the halloween party dressed as him and it makes his head spin every time he thinks about it. the only modification you've made is the pants, traded in for a similarly navy skirt that shows off the plush of your thighs, and sheer stockings that end just below the hemline. he's very thankful for that skirt, very grateful for the access it's giving him to feel you up as he pleases.

and maybe, maybe, he should be a little concerned at what this means for his narcissism, that the sight of you like this, like him, is having such a profound effect. but all he can really think about is your teeth scraping against the underside of his jaw, your hands now tugging at the collar of his blue button-up, your skin moulding under the greedy kneading of his palms as he moves to your hips.

"where's your tie?" you manage to ask as you pull away, as if just realising that he's missing an integral part of his outfit.

"at home," he says, opening his eyes to look at you looking at him. your costume blindfold rests on your forehead, messily bunched up from all the movement, giving him the full effect of your partly disappointed expression.

your fingers fiddle with his undone top button. "would've liked if you had a tie," you mumble, almost complainingly.

he knows you're lying, fully certain that this halfway nanami-cosplay he's got going on is also doing it for you if your enthusiastic participation is anything to go by. and maybe, maybe, he left the tie out just so he could have a reason to get you in his house. he likes to pretend sometimes that he still has to convince you to spend nights with him. likes to act as though he's perpetually on a quest to win your affections, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"come over. help me put it on."

the streetlight from the main road filters into the alley and the music from the building you're both leaning against is muffled and you look so thoroughly debauched with your lips swollen and your face flushed and your chest heaving, and all gojo can really register is the feeling of your body against his.

this is the only way he can have you. too risky to be in a relationship but not to fall into bed with each other at every social gathering, to ignore your colleagues and make out in the alleyway like teenagers. he knows, he knows, that something will give. he's largely stopped trying to hide how much he cares for you behind this dance of 'come over' and 'are you awake?', but your walls are so high, every brick laid by the fear of both being with somebody and being somebody who might not make it back home after a mission. until he can break them down, he'll take what he can get, what you're willing to give him.

"you planned that line?" you scoff with a shocking perceptiveness. or not that shocking. for somebody who claims to not care, you pay an awful lot of attention to his mannerisms outside bed. he'll wait for you to admit it to yourself.

he moves closer, thick arm familiarly winding around your waist until he can feel the ghost of your deep breaths fanning over his already lonely lips. "don't tell me you wore that and expected this to not happen tonight."

the silence is deafening in the wake of his low accusation. you can't deny it, of course you can't deny it. you know that your cherry lip gloss drives him crazy, that the sight of your thighs moving in those translucent silky stockings is enough to wind him up, that he's got an ego for days and seeing you dressed like him is basically heaven. you could've gone as anybody. shoko's only rule was to dress up as another teacher, she didn't specify anything about your-fuckbuddy-that-you're-pretending-to-not-have-a-thing-for.

his gaze shoots to your mouth as your teeth worry your lower lip, and he'd really like you to say something now. preferably along the lines of 'you're absolutely right, i'm in this outfit because i want to sleep with you, let's go' , but he knows it'll never be that easy with you.

even as your body presses against his, even as your hands move to play with the hair on the nape of his neck, you ask, "what about the others?"

gojo laughs, a bright thing that pierces the heavy silence of the dark alley. "they should be used to it by now, no? we'll send shoko an apology card in the morning for bailing."

he doesn't mean to push, but you never do anything you don't want to, and past experience tells him that you really want to do him. despite your initial reluctance, you always end up in his bed at the end of the day. despite your stubborn insistence that 'this is the last time' and 'this isn't a thing', it's never the last time and it's definitely a thing. and predictably, he can see your resolve wavering now, like it always does.

"she also deserves flowers, i think."

"sure, we'll send some flowers too," gojo easily acquiesces with a shrug. he'll send shoko a damn car if you ask him to. but he can't say that yet, won't say that until you admit that whatever ineffable instinct keeps pulling you two together runs deeper than back alley make outs and sweaty nights that feel inevitable.

"this is–"

"the last time?" gojo interrupts, unable to stop himself.

he ignores your unimpressed expression in favour of pressing into your hips with his, satisfied with the way wide eyes and a small gasp replaces your flat look. he makes no attempt to hide what you've done to him, what you always seem to be doing to him. he's affected at the best of times, but in this outfit? he never stood a chance. "is that a yes?"

you seem equal parts annoyed and aroused.

just how he likes you.

"shut up," you grouse, tugging at his collar until you're fiercely kissing him again, everything becoming a frenzy that promises to end with your clothes on his floor and your nails running down his back.

if this is what you’re willing to give him for now, he’ll gladly take it. but he wants more, and he knows that you want more, and it’s only a matter of time before something finally gives.

[lovely-lying-loveable-liar]

Request: I can sooooooo see Hasan having a breeding kink. Like he’s so possessive and a show off, loved pointing out that Austin was wearing his jewelry at the Streamies, I can just imagine how proud and possessive he is knowing he got you pregnant.

Plus you’d look so gorgeous carrying his baby, he’s LOVING all the body changes you’re going through and would literally just worship you.

So something soft and smutty, even just foreplay and being intimate and close together.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

OBVIOUSLY!!! HAVE U SEEN HIM?!

Ugh…

TO BEGIN

He definitely makes u wear his rings during sex

And they’re too big for your fingers because he’s MASSIVE

But he’s like

“Keep them safe for me, yeah? They mean a lot to me.”

In the sweetest voice

So how could you not? Having to clench your fists so they don’t fall off…

ik we all probably think of Hasan being on the rougher side

Which is definitely true for when you guys are having your regular sex

But when he’s solely set on knocking you up he’s so gentle and romantic about it…

He tracks your cycle, obviously

Plans around the day you’re most fertile

He’s streaming as usual, before one day of each month, he’s just GONE.

No internet presence, no texts, no calls, nothing.

He disappears so completely even the FBI would struggle to get in contact with him.

Just so he can be completely focused on you!!! <3

Missionary all fucking day

Like…

Literally…

All fucking day

Fucking all day

Puts a pillow under your hips

Has a plug ready to go

Gets really sensual with it

Lights tons of candles

Pink lights

Will tie your hands together with ribbon above your head

FIXATED on BOOBA

He can’t not touch, tug, pull, suck, pinch, kiss…

Especially with the aim of the day

There’s just something about your boobs that make him FUCKING fall in love all over again <3

To the main course,

He works on a schedule

Wake up - 6:00am (early, but he has to)

Wake you up with breakfast in bed - 6:30am

Fuck - 7:00 to 8:00

Relax - 8:00 to 8:30

Fuck - 8:30 to 9:30

Relax, etc., etc.

Makes sure to fill you up at least twice every hour!

If you guys have to go out after fucking, he’ll be smiling like a fucking idiot knowing that his cum is nestled in you, doing its job.

And that nobody even knows! But they will know soon!!!

Gets even more sad than you when all the tests come back negative

Until

FINALLY

It happens!

And he’s over the moon about it!

He gets so fucking excited, immediately planning what the nursery will look like and buying you CUTE maternal clothes (none of those basic maternal clothes, no no no, you’re gonna be fashionable while pregnant, that’s for fucking sure!!!)

Completely stocks up on your favourite food!

One day, during your fourth month, you wake up to his head on your chest and his hand rubbing your tummy

You say “I’m not even showing yet, what you’re rubbing is my food baby.”

And he gets SO huffy with you

That’s HIS BABY right there ma’am!!!

Oh god…

Thinking of going to the fucking streamies with him like this…

In your sixth month, he’s already SO PROTECTIVE

Literally follows you around like a bodyguard, making sure people stay AT LEAST two feet away from you, no touching the belly without permission, throwing even his BEST FRIENDS stink eyes if they look at you for too long…

But also

You take a pic before going to the venue…

It’s a full length mirror pic…

Your dress is FUCKING AMAZING, with two slits in it…

But…

Kneeling at your feet is Hasan, in his suit, hugging your leg while you play with his hair and he looks up at you like you quite literally MADE the universe.

People go feral for that pic <3 <3 <3

Oh and you thought he loved your tits before?

Now they’ve grown and gotten heavy with milk?

LITERALLY DEVOTED TO BOOBA

He can NOT get enough!!!

Staring at them all the time

Sometimes will just get you to flash him so he can get that little boost of serotonin he needs <3

You get so round <3

And he’s like

So curvy, he wants to EAT YOU

If you keep the weight after giving birth

God

Fucking

Save

You

He’s SO fucking feral for it

Ugh

Anyways

I’ve got work to do

Buh BYE!!! <3

[beels-burger-babe]

Beautifully Wrong

***I have decided that I like these little short fics for in between my full length fics as they allow me to play with poetics. Sooooooo, I hope you all enjoy. -B***

Summary: You feel that you're ugly. Asmodeus believes that you are beautifully wrong. Ft. Chubby MC

CW: Body Insecurities/Dysmorphia, Intimate body descriptions/SFW body worship, and suggestive/sensual content(as per usual with Asmo)

It's half past midnight, and you came walking into Asmodeus's room. Normally he'd scold you for ruining his beauty sleep, but there was something in the way that you shifted nervously from foot to foot that kept his mouth shut.

"Asmo," his name so typically sweet from your lips now tainted with uncertainty. "How do you ... How do you do it?"

"Do what, love?" He asked as gently as he could.

His caution seemed to have been warranted as your bottom lip trembled as your fists clenched by your sides. "How do you love yourself?" Your breath caught as you weakly gestured to your body. "How ... How do you love me? This. All of this."

Asmodeus froze, his mind screeching to a halt.

To him the answer was simple and yet so deeply complex. How could he not love you?

Forget your stunningly brilliant personality, or the way your kindness changed the spirits of every single person you met.

You asked about your body. Your radiant, glorious body that even now was glowing in the dim candlelight of his room like the ethereal celestial deity that you were to him — regardless of the sweatpants that hid those tantalizing thighs and the stained, oversized shirt that gently caressed the peaks of each of your curves.

He was so distracted by the mere thought of you that words failed him, and in his silence you assumed the worst.

"I know, it's a strange question. And I swear, I promise Asmo, that I'm not fishing for compliments. But you and the boys are all so ... gorgeous! And you all somehow have abs and perfect teeth and perfect jaws to go with your perfect bodies and I just- I'm all rolls and stretch marks and lumps and it's disgusting!" Guilt swelled in his chest as tears glistened in your eyes like fireflies skimming the tops of lakes. "I don't understand why you'd choose me. S-Someone who's ugly a-a-and fat a-and-"

Those toxic words were suffocated under Asmo's pillow-soft kiss as he carefully took your face into his hands.

"None of that, dear." He whispered as his amber eyes searched deeply into your own for some semblance of an explanation for what could've brought this on. "Do not speak about yourself like that."

"But-"

He hushed you immediately with another paralyzing kiss as he gently set you on the edge of his bed. Your words were pulled from your tongue and stolen by his as he leaned away and left you breathless.

He tangled your fingers together and inspected each your hands as he tilted his head. "When I first laid eyes on you, I was instantly intrigued. You were frightened and new and so horribly confused, but you were also devastatingly beautiful."

You cocked an eyebrow as a frown dug at the corners of your lips. "You're just saying that. I'm fat-"

"You say that like that has to be a bad thing." He quickly counters with a peck to your knuckles. . "Yes, you have fat on your body." His expression softens as you wince at his words. "And I am so sorry your society has taught you that's a bad thing. Fat and Beautiful are not antonyms."

"I don't understand" you said, and how it hurt to see that you genuinely meant that.

"Allow me to put it this way," his fingers began to trace up your arm. "Humans have never once been able to agree on what they find, truly beautiful. Even today, in some cultures a full-bodied person is a symbol of a healthy, fortuitous person and is thus found deeply attractive. All throughout history, the image of the perfect body has changed more times than you can count on your lovely hands. So saying one body type is more attractive than the other is frankly ridiculous."

He pressed firm kisses up the length of your arm — as though murmuring his words against your skin could seal them there forever. "Putting all your worth into what a single indecisive society run by humans of all species thinks is a terrible waste of time and horrible for your skin," he couldn't help but smirk as a small laugh escaped your lips. The laughter quickly ceased as he took your chin into his grasp. "But it's clear that poisonous teaching has already gotten to you and that you truly believe what they have taught you. The issue isn't just their words anymore," he leaned forward and pecked the top of your head. "It's what's in here. Though it will take time to completely undo all you've been taught, let tonight be the first step towards proving that you are beautifully wrong about yourself."

And he did exactly that. He spent the next few hours spilling words of poetry about the body that he oh-so-loved to worship.

He painted the rolls and curves of your body as the very hills that compose of the natural wonder that you are. The acne you had, and the scars that remained, were your stars and he would spend the evening turning them into constellations if you would give him the chance.

You said that you're ugly, and the ravine-like marks that snake down ever-so-soft curves were terrible and he genuinely didn't understand how you could say such things about something that looks so fucking delicious. Each line was a teasing path that his tongue begged to trace, and if that was something you would never allow he would simply help you find love for the lightning bolts on your thighs, that you so disdainfully called thunder, through his words.

His thumb stroked the delicate curve of your jaw and neck as he thanked it for being the perfect accent to your gorgeous face and rounded cheeks.

With every word he planted a carefully placed kiss in hopes that a garden of love would grow just as strongly and beautifully as you.

And most importantly, he thanked each and every part of you for composing the timeless masterpiece that was his partner, and he prayed to whoever was listening that he could spend the rest of his days studying your artistry and committing every detail of you to memory.

***This is the closest thing to smut I have ever written, why does Asmo always bring this out? I so sincerely hope you guys enjoyed it and are liking these little snippet fics. Thanks for the love and support! -B***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21

[heich0e]

Liv! Your archive of WIPs sounds so fascinating :3

Do you have anything for Levi, Oikawa, or Bakugo?

[omg i have SOOOOOOO many wips for Levi that i don't think will ever be written :( but i also have some for toto so it was hard to choose!! i ended up going w levi just bc the sheer volume was overwhelming lmaooo. this is a canon universe fic that i started writing when i was like 1 or 2 (???) seasons into AOT with a world of hurt left ahead of me. i will never ever post it anywhere because it's cringey and bad but this scene has a bit of flavour]

Levi steps towards the doorway, the last to depart save for the blonde still seated at the head of the table. 

“Levi,” the commander calls to him before he can properly take his leave. 

The slighter man pauses, shoulders tense, before slumping down sullenly into a seat near the end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“You knew.”

Levi tosses the words out accusatorially once the room has emptied, the door creaking closed behind the last departing officer. Erwin says nothing in response, staring down the visibly irate man on the other side of the table with a characteristically unaffected gaze. 

“She could have had her pick of placements within the military. If she graduated in the top of the cohort, she would have had to make that choice on her own and then explain it to the family who was waiting for her back at home. The family who had every expectation that she would take a comfortable position with the MPs. But she threw the exam so she'd have no choice, or rather no excuse, but to come here.” 

“So, you knew,” Levi repeats his earlier indictment, his aggravation only more pronounced the second time around.

“I had my suspicions,” the commander agrees, nodding sagely. “She’s an exceedingly proficient soldier, after all.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Levi asks him, reaching out to thumb idly through the exam report still left out on the table before him—but every glance at the adulterated results only makes the anger churning in his gut boil hotter.

“What difference would it have made, Levi?” Erwin asks, still keeping him fixed in his gaze. The commander's tone remains level, but Levi has known him long enough to tell when he's getting irritated, even in spite of his carefully-held composure.

Levi turns his head away, his jaw tensing.

“The military police had their eye on her from the moment she enlisted,” Erwin explains, sighing as if it pains him to spare the effort. “A skilled, well-educated cadet from a highly respected noble family would be a powerful negotiating tool in any branch. Imagine what they would have had planned for her if she’d fallen into their grip.”

Levi's grip tightens, crumpling a piece of paper angrily in his clenched fist. “Well, we’ve used her in the exact same way they would have. So what does that make us?”

“Levi, don’t do anything rash.” Erwin's known Levi long enough to read him and his body language a plainly as any map.

“Like whoring out a cadet for financial gain?” Levi’s response is sharp as he stands from his seat, the chair scraping against the floor. It's an ugly, unpleasant sound—wholly befitting of the situation.

“She knew what she was doing, she isn’t a child,” Erwin’s tone slips slightly, finally giving away his own vexation.

Levi's lip curls as he looks at him, his disgust as plain as day.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[nadacwriter]

On the greater Cosmogony of the Boiling Isles; Or, King Plays the Owl House.

An entirely self indulgent and pointless what if that will not occur. Please take this for what it is; an AU. Nothing more.

...When King woke up, he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

He had seen Luz go through the portal, and while he had been launched back, he must have hit his head on a rock or something. He could feel another crack on his skull, a small one. As he went to run his finger over it, he felt something...plasticky over the crack?

Like a bandaid of some sort. King pulled it off and looked at it. It had little stars and moons on it, clearly meant for younger kids with scraped knees and burnt knuckles.

As King looked around, he noticed that there wasn’t anything. No outstanding features. Just grass at his feet, sky above his head. he looked around for anything, until he finally saw a figure off in the distance.

The Collector. Ohhhh, King was glad he could finally see the little bastard, as he ran over to the figure.

“COLLECTOR!” King screeched, as he finally got up close with the entity. “You’re playing the GAME wrong, y’know-”

“I’m. Not. Playing.” The collector said. Like a scorned child, little sobs of frustration poking through their voice. The collector had their knees pulled up tight to their chest, their face resting between them.

“...huh?”

“I DON’T wanna PLAY!” The Collector yelled, looking back at king...bright orange streaks had formed under the entity’s eyes. King wondered, had the collector been crying?”

“Woah, hey, take it easy.” King said, putting up his hands and slowly inching forward. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to play.”

The collector sniffed and grunted, looking dead ahead and plopping their chin between their knees. “We can’t play Owl House. Orbis said so.”

“Orbis?”

“They’re always so mean!” They said, letting their head lean back and groaning. Like they were talking about a bad teacher or a bully. “They don’t want me to have ANY fun! I HATE them!” They rose to their feet and stomped on the ground, causing the earth to rumble and shake.

“HATETHEMHATETHEMHATETHEEEEEEEEEEM!” They threw their hands down to their sides, and a MASSIVE clap of thunder BOOMED and shook the air around them. King jumped and hid under his hands, before looking around at the earth and realizing nothing had shifted. No clouds, no rain, just grass and sky.

“Well...” King sat next to the Collector, and looked up, “Why do they not want you to play the owl house?”

The collector sat back down and huffed, “Because they’re MEAN and DUMB.” They said. Before King could ask for a real answer, the collector began on a rant. “First they make this biiiig ball, in the outside! The place above the sky! It was SOOOOO boring, so when he made the big ball, I kicked it! But they got mad at me.” They said, rising to their feet.

It became clear to King, quickly, that he wasn’t just hearing about a mean teacher...he was learning about the creation of the Universe itself...

“So they made it so that the big planet moves soooooo fast that I can’t kick it anymore! So I go to the planet, and I try to make a big, biiiiig pool, the size of the whoooole ball!” They said, excitedly clenching and unclenching their fists, “A-A-And i was gonna swim from the top all the way to the bottom, and I was gonna swim around it, and it was gonna be so cool! But then, Orbis gets MAD again.” They said, rolling their eyes, “and makes the water too hot to swim in.” They began to float, laying on their stomach and kicking their legs back and forth in the air.

“Then Orbis made the titans, and I thought they were so so so sooooooo cool! These big, hulking MONSTERS that were HUUUUGE!” They made the visage of a titan, massive, taking up all of king’s view as he sat and watched the collector go on and on. “but they were so big they didn’t wanna play with me! So I made some smaller people, hehehahahahaha! WITCHES!” They proclaimed, “They were so fun, and I gave them magic, and they’d play games with me!” The collector flipped and turned in the air, giggling and flailing all the way as they were flooded with memories of the games they used to play. 

“...” All movement ceased. Even the slight breeze King had felt. “...Orbis got mad at me for trapping their owl beast in some paper...I-I was gonna put it back, I was!” They said. “But...they locked me away. For THOUSANDS of YEARS.” They laid back on the ground, looking up.

“...Now they won’t even let me play Owl House.” They said.

King blinked, and slowly stood up, facing the collector. “...What’s got Orbis mad at you now?”

The Collector crossed their arms. “Orbis says that I don’t get to bring people back to life. That if they’re dead, they have to stay dead.” The collector sat up, “It’s not fair! They didn’t even MAKE the witches, I did!” They said, “All Orbis wants is for everything to be super boring and dumb and BORING forever.” they said.

“...So you...flattened all the land?” King asked, looking around. Still no features. Still no sound. Not even a breeze. Just plain, flat grassland. As far as the eye could see.

The collector nodded slowly. “...If I was just able to revive a few witches it’d be fine.” They said. “But...but Orbis doesn’t want me to.”

King walked over to the collector, and once again plopped down next to him. “...Maybe...I could try talking to them?” he asked. “I’m a titan after all, you said Orbis made those up, right?”

“mhm.” They said. “but it’s no use...They don’t wanna talk to anyone. And they don’t listen anyways.”

King looked around. “...Well, you can still play the game, right? You just have to not get caught!” King said, “And if you DO get caught, then it’ll give ME a chance to talk to this Orbis guy and tell them not to punish you!”

The collector looked over, “how do I know you’re not fibbing?”

King extended a hand. “Collector. I PINKY promise to stand up for you if this Orbis weirdo shows up, if YOU. PINKY. PROMISE.” King emphasized, leaning forward, “That you play the Owl House with me.”

The Collector tilted their head, then smiled. “Okay!” They extended their pinkie finger and wrapped it around King’s, shaking his hand and slowly standing.

King felt the earth begin to rumble beneath him, as the ground began to swell and shift. A massive gust of wind blew past the pair, and King heard the crashing of waves and the sounds of breathing and gripping all over. He could even feel the humidity returning to normal, as he saw the world rebuild itself around them...

and the pair were in a forest clearing. In front of a large, two story house. behind the house sat a tall stone tower, and in the house’s front door, a sleeping face of an owl. A house demon.

Hooty.

“Okay!” The Collector giggled, “Here it is!” They rubbed their hands together, “What do we need to play?” They asked, looking around.

King, gulping nervously, and staring with wide eyes, nodded softly.

“Let me tell you how to play the game...here’s what we’ll need.”

[sagemoderocklee]

sooooooo technically it's now thursday on the east coast, but we don't need to bore ourselves with the details. since i've been tempted to start posting Return to Sender before it's fully written, i decided to combat this i would share a WIP Wednesday which i haven't done in a hot minute so... here you go! hope y'all enjoy!

---

“Congratulations, Lee-kun,” Kakashi said, a benign smile behind his mask.

It was official: Lee was a Jōnin.

Or almost official—there was still one last, final hurdle.

Excitement and anticipation warred with Lee's determination to maintain decorum. Though Jōnin promotion lacked the fanfare of promotion from Genin to Chūnin, he was still being presented before the Hi Daimyo, the council, and the Hokage. He could not afford to break character now.

Beside Lee, another shinobi accepted the official promotion scroll and Kakashi's mild congratulations, while Lee fidgeted. He couldn't wait to find out what his first official mission as a Jōnin—and the final test—would be. Any minute now, they would be given their assignments, he just had to be patient.

Thankfully, the pile of promotion scrolls was small, but nevertheless, the they dwindled slowly as Kakashi recited the Jōnin Code to each person and read out each individual promotional scroll. It was a long process, even with only three promotions, but Lee at least had something to keep his mind occupied.

After all, it wasn't every shinobi who's promotional scroll contained a recommendation from the Kazekage.

“—perform my duties unwaveringly and without question,” the third and final shinobi being promoted repeated. Kakashi handed her the scroll in his hand, smiling just as he'd done for Lee.

Lee watched him return to his seat beside the Hi Daimyo, who was staring at the three newly made Jōnin thoughtfully. He was a waif of a man, but his eyes held the hint of threat in their gleam. From what Lee knew, he was younger than most daimyo having recently taken over after his grandfather's untimely passing. According to rumor, he'd proven formidable despite his youth and inexperience.

“Thank you, Hokage,” the Hi Daimyo said, in a voice that did not suit his appearance. “Congratulations. You have all proven yourselves to be skilled and trustworthy ninja, willing to serve your village and your nation. As Jōnin, you are an example to your peers and to the other nations, and I hope you will not disappoint us.

“Each of you will be given a solo A-rank mission, which you will be expected to complete within a set period of time. Each mission has its own parameters, but if you fail this mission, you will be demoted swiftly—possibly even to Genin. Let me remind you, there are no second chances. You are a Jonin now, but should you fail you will never be given this honor again.”

Lee's heart pounded in his chest and he resisted the urge to clench his fists.

He'd known beforehand the promotion process for Jōnin was not straightforward. First, one had to be nominated by someone who'd already achieved Jōnin (or, on incredibly rare occasions, someone higher); then they needed to undergo a series of intense interrogations to test not only their loyalties but also their ability to withstand psychological torment; after that, they needed three more recommendations from someone other than the person who'd nominated them, which played out not as written recommendations but intensive interviews; following that was a written test. The final trial of Jōnin promotion was the temporary ascension and their first solo mission.

The solo missions required Jōnin level clearance, which justified the cruel and nerve-wrecking back-and-forth, but it did not ease the anxiety now spreading through Lee. He could not mess this up, especially not after Gaara's glowing recommendation.

Kakashi rose to his feet, clearing his throat. “The details of your missions will be given to you at the time of your departure. As part of this final test, you will be expected to demonstrate a variety of skills. The first: planning and preparation. Without any knowledge of what awaits you, pack your bags and ready yourselves for whatever may lie ahead.

“You have twenty-four hours. Dismissed.”

With that, the ceremony was over.

Lee was a Jōnin, at least for now.

[purplelordscp035j]

Start of observation room recording:

Dr. Purple V. Lord stand at the control panel to scp-035-j-c’s containment chamber, or better known as “Terquisa Lord”.

Terquisa lord is right at the glass staring Dr. Purple V. Lord down.

Terquisa: could you possibly let me out? Please? Just for a little bit? I promise to behave

Dr. Purple: I trust you as much as I trust 999 so that’s a hard no.

Terquisa: come on, just a little peek outside my cell? I’ve been sooooooo lonely in here!

Dr. Purple: you sound just like 035, still, no.

Arancia Lord walks into the observation room with his hood up.

Arancia: we need to talk about your p-r-o-b-l-e-m

Arancia lord points to Dr. Purple V. Lords arm.

Dr. Purple V. Lord has her arms crossed and is death glaring Terquisa lord: in a bit, does this guy even sleep? I suppose we don’t really need to, but didn’t you say this guy has the same physical strength as a wet twig?

Arancia: yes, yes I did, because it’s true, but we should really get that looked at, didn’t you say this hasn’t happened before in like 500 years? Maybe more, and if it hasn’t happened before, why is it growing back now?

Dr. Purple: Arancia, look, I’m kinda in the middle of something’s right now, can this please wait?

Terquisa lord grins: what’s growing back?

Dr. Purple V. Lord gets noticeably angry and clenches her fists: you stay out of this, this has nothing to do with you and your pathetic [Redacted]

Arancia: calm down, you know he can’t fight for the life of him right? All bark no bite as you would put it.

Dr. Purple V. Lord calms down: yeah, all bark, no bite.

Both masked personnel leave the observation room, Terquisa lord pressing his delicate face against the window.

Terquisa: awwwwwwww fun’s over already? I was getting warmed up for the big fight!

End of recording.

[princessfbi]

'Don't go. Stay'

+

'Be honest with me. Do you want this?'

Sound like it could be sooooooo angst and good if you wanna give it a go..love your writing btw x

The kiss was over before it had even really begun. But in the time frame it had taken for Eddie's lips to touch his own, Buck's life had been ruined. Ruined by Eddie's kiss. Ruined by Eddie's taste. Ruined by the knowledge of what it was like to have Eddie's fingertips bruising into the nape of his neck as his soft lips pressed into Buck's own.

Buck had gasped in surprised, had opened his mouth in a sigh, had let Eddie in.

Then Eddie had ripped away and now it was like Eddie was a million miles away.

“Don’t go.” He pleaded before he could really recognize what it was he was saying; begging. “Stay.”

Eddie stopped and Buck could only track the tension rippling across the rigid line of his shoulders. Buck didn’t think he could remember how to breathe let alone speak but he knew Eddie was waiting for him. Waiting for him to say something even though Buck was just as tongue tied as before; just as petrified of ruining everything between them.

“Eddie—” Buck pushed out because even if he forgot how to speak, he would always know Eddie’s name. He would always know the way to curl his tongue to say it. It was branded on his heart in case it was ever lost and needed to be found. “Please. Please stay. Please don’t go.”

Eddie’s shoulders went impossibly tighter before he turned to Buck and looked at him. Really looked at him. Stared deep inside him where Buck couldn’t hide and blasted down his defenses with a single glance.

Buck knew what it was like to have someone see through him as if he wasn’t there. But it wasn’t until Eddie that Buck learned what it was like to have someone see him as if he was the only thing in the room.

As if he was the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

Eddie’s look had been searing into Buck since day one and it was doing it then. And Eddie was looking at him then. Guarded and neutral with a flicker of something that took Buck’s breath away, fluttering across Eddie’s brown eyes before Buck could capture it to see.

“Be a honest with me, Buck.” Eddie said and Buck stiffened under the demand. Eddie could’ve asked for the moon and Buck would’ve found a way to give it to him if he could. “Do you want this?

Buck’s brain screeched to a halt.

“What?”

Eddie’s face scrunched up in frustration before he could catch it and he shoved up a hand to rub across his eyes like he always did when his tight grasp of control he usually wielded with an iron fist was slipping. He punched out a sound from between clenched teeth and threw his arm out between them.

“Do you want this?” Eddie asked again, his shoulders bunching up to his ears. “Do you want this? Do you want us? Do you want—”

Me.

Buck heard it even if Eddie didn’t say it.

And Buck must have been silent for too long because Eddie had barely given Buck a moment to process what he had said let alone realize that what was happening was real before he started spiraling right there in Buck’s kitchen.

“I want you and I think… I think you want me to but I don’t know these signals, Buck. I don’t know what you want from me. You’re amazing and you make me feel amazing but you flirt and I never know if it’s real. If I’m real or if that—”

Buck didn’t let Eddie finish. He was crossing the space between them in three easy glides before he was capturing Eddie’s cheeks in his palms and smashing their lips together. Eddie’s hands came up in surprise as he huffed against Buck’s mouth but those hands slipped into hair and held on for dear life as Buck tried to kiss all the doubt and insecurities from Eddie.

Did he want him?

Eddie had been all Buck wanted for years and the fact that he didn’t know that gutted Buck up inside.

“Yes,” Buck said when they had to pull apart to gasp air into their heaving lungs. “Yes.”

He kissed Eddie’s lips, the side of his mouth, his cheek, his nose. Anywhere he could reach. Now that they had started Buck never wanted to stop.

“Yes, I want you. You have no idea how much I want you.”

Eddie rumpled something as he yanked on Buck’s hair until Buck’s lips were easy to access so he could kiss him again. Buck’s knees buckled beneath the weight of Eddie’s kiss and Eddie spun them to press up into the island until there was nothing but that marble and Eddie holding him up.

The panic of Eddie leaving, running away, burned into something hotter and brighter beneath Buck’s skin and it was then that he understood what that flutter had been that he’d tried to catch.

Hope.

Unbridled, raw hope that always managed to send Eddie running the moment he got a taste of it.

Buck chased after that hope so that maybe he could show just how serious he was that there wasn’t a second that he would want to spend without Eddie.

Did he want Eddie?

Buck couldn’t imagine a world without him.

[angelic-dew]

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕪𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

A/N: hello simps. I'm back but not for long :) I haven't updated in like 2 months? Yall thought I was dead or something.. school is just tough so sorry at least once a month I'll post or try to,, anyways, enjoy. SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES DYSLEXIA IS A BITCH

Gender: G/N

Writing type: fluff & VERY slight lime.

Pairing: BEN DROWNED, Eyeless Jack, Slenderman, Toby, Laughing Jack, Jeff the killer × Reader // part. 1 ??

Tw: none but the creepypastas being jealous ok maybe some killing

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Ben

(🎮) doesn't wanna admit he's jealous of the person. Don't get him wrong he wants to kill him/her ,but just can't. You might yell at him and doesn't want his baby to be mad

(🎮)hides his jealous eyes under his hair like that's gonna help and with the veins popping out on his forehead as well as clenched fists, no way that's gonna help him

(🎮)You can always tell when he's jealous

(🎮) he could say he's busy ,but when you're talking to the next person he's suddenly not busy and is ready to do anything,, strange

(🎮) if things get too out of hand BEN would come up and put his hand around your waist, and straight up start to place soft kisses on your neck. Is doing this with the cocky-ist smirk on his face btw

(🎮) tries way too hard to make himself look better than the other person. "Well uhmm... their like with me sooooooo I'm better than you." Or something like that.

(🎮) pick me girl boy vibes

(🎮) tells you that slender or Sally need you, and then proceeds to hurry you away so he can kill the person :) he is a serial killer what do you expect?

(🎮) either way, he wants your attention now and only on him.

(🎮)Clings to your arm like a koala afterwards just singing your praises to the top of his lungs,, repay him in some cuddles please.

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Eyeless jack

(✉) doesn't get jealous the majority of the time,, has some level of trust. sike bitch he been had trust issues,, no jealous for him it goes straight to envy

(✉) but just stays in the corner where he can keep an eye out making sure they aren't doing any funny business with you,, he's contemplating whether you might leave him for the other person or not.

(✉) is glares daggers at him/her

(✉) If that shit were to make him very uncomfortable and overstepping your boundaries he'll start to get violent.

(✉) beats the dog shit out of the person,, you had to call slender to pull him off; Slenderman wasn't mad tho he was actually proud, weird.

(✉) hickeys. May I add more?

(✉) after just hug him and tell EJ that he's your one and only & you'll never leave him.. and all shit is sweet for him. Still wish he had the chance to kill the douchebag tho

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Slenderman

(✒) absolutely HATES this feeling more than Jeff's shit. Although, he isn't really the type to get jealous since this isn't practical of him -- and he's a very busy man and that comes with not having enough time (sometimes)

(✒) don't get him wrong he loves you it's just it's a bit overwhelming sometimes ya know? ANYWAYS

(✒) Slender ain't the one to get his suit dirty nor his pale inhuman skin (unless this person is making his blood boil + that's what he has proxies for) so he might just hurry you away so he can deal with him/her in private or let Toby and his hatchet have some fun.

(✒) If this said person is a proxy/ creepypasta or one of your relatives he'll just give em some warning gestures and/or looks if they are overstepping his boundaries or you look uncomfortable.

(✒) one of the shortest and most awkward conversations you will ever have.

(✒) one of the few times slender has voluntarily wanted to cuddle with you. I'll leave the rest up to you

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Toby

(🪓) Toby is always being childish so don't be surprised when he's jealous,, you would lowkey would be shocked to see how many times he has been envious of the others talking to you. BEN could be talking about a new game he just bought to you and this manz is super jelly.

(🪓) So this becomes an everyday thing without you just not knowing so.

(🪓) As I just mentioned he gets jealous several times a day he's excellent at hiding it bc he's more worried about the fact that you're gonna leave him

(🪓) But if they were actually flirting with you that's where he draws the fucking line. You ain't taking his bitch on this beautiful Tuesday. So he does what any lovesick boyfriend will do....

(🪓) beat that weirdo to a pulp and play it off like nothing,, he's just insecure please tell him he's wonderful that'll make him smile :)

(🪓) Kisses, kisses, kisses; for ownership ofc.

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The clown weirdo/LJ

(🎪) Is unphased, in fact, he doesn't give a fuck.

(🎪) cuz he knows, either way, they're gonna die from flirting with you so it is no use being envious when it's gonna end both ways *cough* killing them and then cuddling with you * cough*

(🎪) no one shall touch my sweetheart >:)

(yandere much.)

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Jeff the fucking killer/ Jeff

(🔪) He chooses violence so a bitch got stabbed at least 1-17 times as an estimate. And that would be an excellent thing to tease him on in the near future.

(🔪) In addition, he just gets envious easily similar to Toby's situation except he's a tad bit more verbal with the person. Even if he doesn't resort to physical violence he'll just stare at the person like this across the room (a mixture of EJ and Toby)

(🔪) is glaring daggers at that person.

(🔪) Even though he's staring at this person like this ->🙂 he'll come up to and start to make small talk w/ you trying to drag your attention to him (its like him being annoyingly clingy) + still making eye contact with the person

(🔪) Eventually, he'll make a lame excuse for you to leave so he can just murder this azzhole already.

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[bitchassbucky]

Ｍｅ/Ｙｏｕ

📎Word Count: 1.9k

📎Warning/s: smut! MINORS DNI. toxic relationship dynamics <3 facefucking, sloppy blowjob, facial (not the skincare one), spitting in mouth, biting?, name calling, cheating/affair (bucky cheats), mean!bucky ig, toxic & manipulative!reader (she coerces bucky into cheating... so), alcohol mention, very very very brief sam x reader was mentioned

📎A/N: this was supposed to be a quick drabble but the fic practically wrote itself sooooooo @babyboibucky @sarge-barnes-sir @borikenlove this one’s for my hoes 💛✨

📎reblogs & comments are always welcomed!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The stage lit up as the band finished with a flourish. A roar of cheers and applause vibrates through the entire room, breaking the sweaty and the smoky atmosphere of the bar.

Patrons milled around with their drinks in hand. Drunk people leaning over walls and stools, waiting for their friends to come find them.

Your black-rimmed eyes scanned the room for a viable option. You slowly gaze upon the sea of bar-goers, picking out the best of the bunch.

The girl in a pleated skirt? Still giggling with her friends.

What about the man who’s been eye-fucking you since you got here? Too desperate.

There’s someone leaning over at the edge of the room, but they’re too tall for your liking.

You finished your drink with a sharp gulp, already walking towards the bar for a refill when someone caught your eye.

He looked like a sore thumb sticking out of the crowd. His hair was cropped short, a bit frazzled. A fair shade of stubble showered his sharp jaw, lining over his pink lips.

A smirk played on your painted lips, signaling the bartender for two drinks.

“Hey Sam,” you practically purred. A handsome man tending the bar leans closer to you, bringing forth a couple of shot glasses.

“It’s on the house,” Sam said, sliding a neat square of napkins over your side before placing the drink.

You tilt your head that way and smiled in lieu of thanking. A clink—half a second later, you put the empty glass facing downwards.

“Who’s the new guy?” A genuine question. The subject of the conversation sits patiently behind you, checking his phone periodically.

“A friend,” Sam carefully approaches your question, “he’s dating another friend of mine.” Sam already knows what your game is and how... unstoppable you are, for the lack of a better word.

“Well, that didn’t stop us before, did it?”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet his gaze, beckoning him to join you and Sam by the bar.

“Hey man, what can I get ‘ya?” Sam asked his friend, laying another napkin on his end.

“Just a beer, thanks.” He’s short with words. His steely eyes darting everywhere but you.

“What’s your name?” Now you’re scooting closer, even playing up a stumble when the man behind you roared a boisterous laughter.

He then looks at you, finally, albeit hesitant, “I’m Bucky—are you okay?”

You let a small giggle out, playing coy, “Yes, Bucky, I’m okay.” You stick your hand out, a couple of silver and tungsten rings adorning your fingers.

“Nice to meet you...” Bucky prompted, his large hand engulfing yours.

“Sam’s...friend.”

“Right,” he said, letting go of your hand after a firm shake, “‘m just waiting for my girlfriend.”

Sam already moved away from your area, serving a group of girls by the far end of the bar.

“He always does that,” you pointed out. A shared tidbit of mutual interest. Bucky was close enough to get a whiff of his musky cologne. A sliver of necklace hiding beneath his black shirt.

“Yeah, that’s how I actually met him.” It was unprovoked, what he said, but you kept the conversation going.

“You were with a group of drunk girls?” Your quip made him look at you with a playfully defeated smirk, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. An act that made your thighs clench from under you.

“No, no. Well—he thought that I was some girl’s boyfriend and he gave me a free drink to ‘apologize.’”

You bring up your best laugh, flicking your hair off your shoulder. Exposing your jewelry-adorned neck to him. He gazed down to your chest before clearing his throat.

He was nervous, you—hell, anyone—could tell. His hands were stuffed in his pants, he fidgets by shifting his weight back and forth on his left foot.

“Are you okay?” You looked up at him through your lashes, you were already a mere half a-foot away from him.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair impatiently, checking his phone again. Still no texts. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. My girlfriend’s just taking too long.”

You shot Sam a look before putting your hand on Bucky’s chest, “I know a place where you could wait. It’s quieter in there, you could call her.” Your tone was hopeful—a mutual acquaintance helping out a friend.

Before he knows it, Bucky’s hand was in yours as you guide him through the crowd and into a dimly lit hallway.

The wall was decorated with posters and stickers; pictures of patrons and banned people too.

“In here.” You opened a door, flicking a light switch before fully opening the way to let Bucky through. “This is a rehearsal room, the walls are lined with foam so any noise is filtered—can’t really go in and out.”

The old couch on the back was surprisingly clean and comfy, Bucky settled there as you rummaged around the mini-fridge for another drink.

“Beer?” That wasn’t really a question as you pass him a cold can, sitting down beside him.

He huffed, deft fingers dancing over the screen as he composed a longer text, “she always does this. It’s fucking annoying.”

Like the good friend you are, you scooted over to him, laying a soft hand over his shoulder for comfort.

“Hey, it’s fine. She’s just probably held up right now,” you cooed, a sweet little thing. You take a sip of a drink as he does so.

You give his broad shoulder a brief squeeze and made a face, “you’re really tense, man.”

Comically, he relaxes, letting out a breathless chuckle that sent your core fluttering. “‘m sorry. It’s just—this is our first night out in a long while.”

You hum inquisitively, propping up an arm on the backrest, “have you guys been together long?”

A beat passes before you backtracked.

“Sorry, I haven’t been in a long relationship...” You trailed off, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your pierced ear. You tentatively took another gulp of your drink, your cheeks heating up.

“No, it’s okay. We’ve been together for like, maybe three years, or so?” Bucky looks at you. God, it’s like he’s trying to read you before curating his answers. “Been a long time too.”

“Anything adventurous happening?” You teased him, Bucky’s visibly more relaxed now.

“No, nothing adventurous.” He confessed - an unknown reaction washes over his face as he says it.

“I may or may not know a thing or two on how to make your relationship more exciting.”

“Really? Is that so?” Bucky’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, sending shivers down your spine. He leans over then, getting closer to your face until his face is merely inches away from you.

“Bucky,” you breathe out. Your hands flat against his chest.

He blinks—once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry—shit, I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t be here. I’m gonna go—“ His whole demeanor changed. Bucky stands up, straightening his pants and shirt before looking down at you, still seated on the couch.

He was just three steps away from the door when you slot yourself between him and his way, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside. Outside, I’m gonna wait for my girlfriend outside.” He’s rambling, his ears are going red. A thin sheet of sweat glistening over his forehead.

Closing the gap between you and him, you lay a hand against his chest, over his heart. “Do I make you nervous?”

Bucky stammers out a broken ‘no.’

“No? Why’s your heart beating so fast, then?”

You reached up to his nape, pushing him down to your height to kiss him hard. He didn’t push you away yet, his hands are gripping your arms for purchase. His fingers digging in the flesh of your shoulders. It’s sure to be bruised come morning.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed out as you pull away. His lips shining and swollen, “what did you do?”

“Something thrilling, really.”

Bucky didn’t know how you got on your knees, tugging his black jeans down along with his boxer briefs in a desperate manner.

“God, I knew you were packing.”

His cheeks heat up even more as you palm him, his length hot and heavy against your hand. You lean in and nipped his thigh, your sharp teeth digging into his skin.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but to hiss and slap you across the face, “don’t fucking bite me.”

He expected you to look up at him with tears in your eyes, what he wasn’t expecting is you looking up with mischief and joy glinting in your eyes as you bite him again—harder this time, “God, fuck—you slut!”

Bucky saw red and grabbed you roughly by your jaw, squeezing your mouth open, “you want me so fuckin’ bad, you’re marking me, aren’t you, huh? Such a fucking slut, look at you.”

He squeezes harder, prying your mouth open as he missed your mouth with his spit, “open your mouth—fucking open!”

You obliged, your knees scraping raw as you kneel before Bucky. You feel his spit drip down your chin, the first time he missed. The second one slid down your tongue, prompting him to forcefully tap your cheek close as you swallow.

His angry cock stood dripping with precum; prominent veins making themselves known. You scoot closer, licking his balls up to the crown of his head which earns you a grunt.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky orders. He wastes no time in bunching your hair up in his fist, slapping your swollen lips and cheek with his cock. “This better than your gloss, yeah? Hmm, yeah, ‘course it is.”

Bucky squeezes your mouth again, pushing his thick cock past your lips, your warmth engulfing all of him at once. “No reflex? My god, you’ve been here before, haven’t ‘ya?”

His presumptions were proven wrong when he started to pump in and out of your mouth. You gagged and choked, your throat constricting around his head every time he hits the back. “In and out through the nose, hmm? Yeah, c’mon. You can do it, bitch.”

Once you got past your reflex and relaxing your throat, Bucky took advantage and sped up. His balls slapping your chin when he thrusts in. The neckline of your shirt wet with spit and drool as he continues to fuck your mouth like he owns it.

You hum as you feel Bucky’s cock throb in your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Another set of rough thrusts, Bucky pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He strokes his girth with his hand, with you licking the angry crown of his length. Ropes of cum spurt out, painting a good portion of your face milky white. You managed to swallow it, catching some in your abused mouth.

He stands tall above you, catching his breath as he tucks himself into his pants once more. “The fuck did I just do?”

“Something adventurous.” You smirk, standing up on your own, wiping your face with the inside of your shirt.

Bucky pats down his pocket for his phone, landing his gaze on the couch to look for it. He saunters over, looking for any texts from his girlfriend.

“You know, I’m doubting you even have a girlfriend,” You let out a sharp quip as you smooth your hair down, drinking the rest of your beer.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky retorts, stuffing his phone down his back pocket. Before strutting over a desk and scribbling something.

“What? You came on my face and I can’t say shit?”

He tosses you a piece of paper, catching it on your hand. Bucky gives you a reluctant look before turning the doorknob, leaving you alone in the room.

You unfold the paper then, ‘call me when you’re feeling adventurous’ it says, along with his phone number.

[magalidragon]

#4 or #5 for romantic one liners please and thank you 🤗

HOW ABOUT BOTH!? 🥰😭🤗 And even better how about both in the silent shadows universe!? AND WHAT IF I MAKE IT ANGSTY!?!?! (Moodboard to follow)

Sooooooo sorry it took me an age. 😭 I hope you like it even if if gave me perverse pleasure to torture the beans a bit.

Romantic One Liner Prompts

4. “Not to sound cheesy but your smile really lights up the room.”

5. “I cannot find the words to describe how I feel about you.”

Shadow watched her warily from his position on her bed, head on his paws, and his tail shoved underneath his back legs, eyes darting occasionally between her pacing form and Drogon sitting atop her dresser, hissing at him every few minutes.  He was vibrating, nervous and keying in on her emotions, which were pouring off of her with every second.

Her frustration levels had exploded in one godsawful fight and she'd hightailed it out of Jon's house and to her apartment, not wanting to deal with him for another second longer.  It wasn't her fault, she kept telling herself, speeding away from his house, skidding snow and melt, and exploding into her apartment at full steam, shouting how annoying he was, how much she was sick of his behaviors.

"I owe it to myself," she said to Shadow, passing by him again.  Her fingers clenched into her palms, nails digging deep.  "I mean, I'm the one who is going through all this stuff physically, right?  The least he could do is just..." She growled.  He was still holding back.  He was still refusing to speak to her, keeping his emotions close to the vest, but they had moved beyond that.  Or so she thought.

Instead of talking to her, instead of at the very least telling her he wasn't thinking the same, he'd shut down, he'd withdrawn into himself, and he had been spending most of his nights on "observation calls" with the wolves, deep in the forest, and not in their bed.  "He has to stop doing that," she told Shadow.

She scrubbed her fingers over her face, exhausted, and sank into a chair in the corner.  Her stomach hurt, her head hurt, and she ached every which way.  It was the bloody hormones.  The little notebook at her side, resting innocently on the end table, mocked her with its check marks and color-coding.  Next week was their first egg retrieval and he'd give his sample.  They were flying out to Essos in a couple days.

Or rather, they were planning on it.

Right now she had no bloody idea what was happening.

Leaning over her knees, she pressed her face into her palms, thinking back over the argument.  It was so stupid.  It was just over dinner.  Dinner, of all bloody things!

He'd come home, to find her making them grilled cheese sandwiches, because there was nothing in the fridge and she thought he was getting something.  He had texted her before leaving the sanctuary that he thought she was getting stuff.  Annoyed, she snapped she'd just make something.

He tapped her shoulder when he came into the kitchen, even though she heard him and had ignored him.  He picked up one of the slices of grilled cheese and smirked at her, biting into it and then signing.  "Not to sound cheesy, but your smile really lights up the room."

She had been smiling, but not at him.  More so at Ghost ,who was in the other room with Shadow, wisely sensing the tension.  Jon laughed at his own joke, but she was not amused.  She signed, angry.  "You were supposed to get dinner."

"I thought that was you, I was busy."

"Busy?  You're the busy one?  You've been sleeping in the forest for the last week!"

He shrugged, continuing to eat.  "Aye, it's breeding season, lots to observe."

"Breeding season?"  She shouted now, slamming her hands on her stomach, which had puffed out because of the hormones.  He flinched, not looking at her.  She grabbed his face, jerking his eyes towards her lips so he could read them-- he wasn't getting out of it that easy.  "Yeah it's breeding season Jon!  We're going to Essos next week for the IVF and you've been hiding from me, not listening to me, and now you're making jokes like it's all fun and games?"

They hadn't even talked about the IVF.

That would require them to be in the same house at the same time.

So basically, he was avoiding her.

And she had been avoiding him, because he had been avoiding her.

His lips twitched, his eyes shuttering, and she lunged for him, but he was already turning away.  "Don't you do that!" she shouted, although it was pointless, because he was already walking away from her.  She grabbed his arm, jerking him around, furiously signing.  "Don't you run away from me Jon!"  Tears stung the corners of her eyes.  "We have to talk about this!  I decided to do this with you because...because I was ready but if you are changing your mind..."  It had been three months since he ran into that hospital corridor, proclaiming his love and throwing himself at the mercy of her love, saying he wanted to be with her, he wanted a baby with her too, he was ready.

And now he was changing his mind, basically, or that's what it seemed to her.

He shook his arm free.  "I'm not changing my mind!  I've been busy!"

"Oh you're busy?  Well so am I!  Busy trying to figure out if I even want this baby with you now!"  It came out before she realized it and she saw his face, the ashen color, and she hesitated.  "Jon I didn't..."

He shook his head, sneering, and spoke, voice thick.  "You feel that?  You...I told you....I'm not..."  He scrambled for the words and signed, his face a twist of pain and anger.  "I told you!"

Told me what?  She was so mad at him, she signed again.  "I'm not staying here tonight."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Shadow was out the door with her before she knew what was happening, and now here she was, lost and confused, and frustrated.  Upset.  Hurt.  She blinked away tears, tucking her feet under her in the chair, sniffling back sobs.  It was too late in Essos to call Missandei or Rhaegar.  There was always Arya, but when it came to matters of Jon Snow vs. Daenerys Targaryen, as close as she was to Arya, she did tend towards siding with Jon.  Since it was about...whatever it was about, she probably would stay out of it entirely.

There was Shadow, but as he was deaf, he couldn't' even hear her voice.  He hopped off the bed, however and rested his chin on her knee, dolefully staring up at her.  She scratched his head, whispering.  "You're a good boy."

This was supposed to be different now.

Jon and her had different priorities in life, they'd realigned those.  He'd gone to therapy-- was still going actually-- resulting in him being more open with her, more accepting.  He still struggled, she understood that, she sympathized and she felt it deeply, but gods....he had to realize at this point in their relationship, she was there for him!

"He can talk to me," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

But what if he couldn't?

Her eyes opened and she blinked a few times, her heart hurting so badly it was bleeding everywhere.  She missed him.

If he couldn't talk to her, then why?  Was it about the baby?  Was she pressuring ihm?  She frowned, looking over her behavior, but then she shook her head, growling.  No!  It wasn't her!  She had been more than open with him, more than understanding, and sometimes that was what drove her so crazy with the man.  She had bent over backwards for him.

But she'd been passive aggressive the last week.

She'd been ignoring him too.

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone from the end table, staring at the screen.  There were several texts from him.

Can we talk?

I'm sorry.

I don't want to do this over the phone.

I'm coming over.

You don't get to ignore me.

You've been ignoring me too.

Dany?

What the fuck.  talk to me.

Fine.

Whatever that last one meant, she wasn't going to try to figure it out.  She opened up the messages and sent him back a response.

I'm here.  I'm not ignoring you.

She paused and took a deep breath, typing fast:  I don't understand what is going on.  Talk to me Jon.  If you don't then I guess I know where I stand in the scheme of things.  She closed her eyes and hit send, following up quickly with:  I love you.

The instant she pressed send, her door rattled, keys jangling in the lock.  Shadow didn't react, obviously, but the dragons did, Drogon and Rhaegal springing up and running to the door to see who had arrived.  At their departure, Shadow turned and barked, taking a sniff and eyes widening when he caught Ghost and Jon's scents, rutning and greeting them.

She remained in her chair, waiting for him to enter.  He did, a few seconds later, and he looked miserable.  His eyes were sunken, his hands shoved in his pockets.  He wasn't wearing a coat, the flannel shirt hanging off his shoulders loosely, his frame appearing thin to her.  She hadn't noticed, but he did look like he'd lost some weight recently.  He stared over at her and she waited, continuing to keep her hands still, although they itched to begin speaking.

"I cannot find the words to describe how I feel about you," he spoke.

Each time he spoke, stretching his vocal cords to their limits, his heart racing nervously because he could not tell what he was actually saying, the pitch and the volume, her pulse quickened, because it was his true voice, and he was vulnerable when he did it, his heart out in the open, offered for the trampling.

It made her melt, it was her favorite sound in the world, expect maybe his laugh.

It meant things were important, when he spoke to her like that.

She didn't move, her muscles locked, gaze intense on him.  He continued, stuttering.  "I...you make me..." He clenched his fist and pressed to his chest.  "Hurt.  Here."  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  "I...scared.  Scared of it...so real now.  All real.  I...forget.  Forget because I feel so much."

The vision of him before her wavered, tears filling her eyes, unshed.  She knew what he was talking about.  He loved her so much it overwhelmed him, it scared him, and he reverted back to the easy thing.  To the forest, to his wolves.  She lifted her fingers, folding them into the words.  "You cannot do that anymore  You cannot run from me."

He nodded.  "I know."

"I love you so much Jon Snow.  We are in this together.  Both of us.  it has to be both of us."

He pushed from the door and walked over to her, kneeling in front of her and covered her hand with his.  She could see the pain etched in the lines therading from his eyes and around his lips.  "I want a baby.  With you.  Only you."  He hesitated and she struggled to understand, the emotion so thick in his words he was almost unintelligible.  "I am scared.  No going back.  I forget you...you want me."

Her hands went to his face, cupping it in her palms, and she spoke, crystal clear so he could read her lips.  "I want you more than anything in this world Jon Snow.  I love you and I want this baby with you."  She hesitated and continued.  "I am sorry I ran off tonight, but you make me...I can't read your mind and I don't deserve it when you push me away.  Again."  And again and again.

He nodded quickly.  "I know.  I'm so sorry.  I just..."  He shrugged, helpless.  "My whole life.  NO one...wanted...me."

It killed her, that he had been so locked away after his accident.  No one saw him as anything but that deaf boy, shuttered in the attic, locked in his silent world, just his wolves.  And her.

"I want you," she signed.  She smiled.  "All of you."

"i know."

"Then stop closing me away Jon."  She bit her lower lip, shrugging sadly.  "Because I cannot risk the pain of what is going to happen to us if we aren't in it together."

He nodded, but she didn't think he quite understood.  He seemed so certain that this would work.  They would fly to Essos, they'd go through the procedure, and a few weeks later they would have a baby, but she knew better than to be so hopeful, so certain.  She was cautious about it.  It was the only way to protect herself.

Just like running away was his.

She brushed his hair back behind his ear, curling it around her finger, speaking out loud again.  "I'm sorry I ran away too.  We can't do that."

"No, we can't," he signed, agreeing.

They would figure it out.  She fell into his arms, both of htem sinking to the floor, embracing tight.  He kissed her neck, face buried in her hair and she did the same to him, swaying lightly in his arms.  She loved him so much it hurt.  It would always hurt.  The good kind, she thought.  She pulled her face away and stared at him, his pain and fear still evident in the furrow of his brow and the pressed line of his lips.  She touched her fingertip to them, shaking her head.  "You will be a good father Jon.  I want this with you.  Only you."

It had been easy in the beginning, to say that she would do the donor sperm, because she wanted this baby.  Now she couldn't think of anyone else as the father of her child.  Not some nameless entity in a test tube.  It had to be Jon and only Jon.

He kissed her gently.  His hand came up, signing.  "I only want this with you too."

They kissed, deeper this time, the emotions surging inside of them, the hormones raging in her.  It had been weeks; she'd been so scared of potentially messing something up and they had a stopping point.  Mel told her they needed to refrain from anything a week before, part of the protocols.  She hadn't had to worry about it the last time, since she'd been doing it on her own, but now she needed him desperately, especially if it was going to be the last time for a week.

He lifted her up from the floor, easily carrying her over to the bed and depositing her on it, breaking away from their furious kisses long enough to shut the door on a nosy Shadow and Viserion, who were trying to sneak back in.  She giggled, reaching up for him and leaning back, head lightly hitting her pillows and traced his cheek, scratching at his bristly beard.  He smiled gently.  "I love you so much," she said.

"I love you."  He rose over her, touching his nose against hers, breathing deep.  His hands found hers and squeezed, stretching them up over her head, his lips brushing down her cheeks, to her chin and began tracking down, letting go of her to begin plucking at her clothing, while she remained in place, hands up over her head, eyes fluttering shut.

A few hours later, she tapped his heart, lifting up to rest her chin on his chest, peering up at his face, which was tilted up to the ceiling, watching the moonlight play shadows through the open window.  She took a deep breath and sighed.  "Jon," she said.

He didn't move and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, speaking out loud, to nothing really.  "Jon I need you to do this with me.  I can't do it alone.  We're in this together.  You and me.  No more running away and I won't either.  We're making a baby together.  We're going to be parents.  I love you more than anything, but if this keeps up, I can't do this.  It isn't fair to either of us.  I know you can't hear me, but I want you to know, and I hope you can understand."

There, she said it.

She lifted up a little farther, looking down at him.  His eyes flicked open, a smile lazily pulling over his lips. He turned a little closer to her, and his voice was raspy, breaking when he spoke. "You are awake?"

She smiled and nodded.  He smiled again and fumbled some signs.  "Do you want to go see some pups?"

Eyebrows lifting, she shrugged and let him pull her from the bed.  They dressed and he drove her, Shadow, and Ghost out to the sanctuary and they rumbled through, coming to a stop before one of the gates.  He opened it and they started walking in the darkness.  He was oblivious to the creepy crunching of their feet on dry leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl, and even fainter, howling from a wolf in the distance.

Ghost and Shadow moved with the darkness, flashing here and there in the trees, like their namesakes, and she held Jon's hand as he led her through the brush, until they came upon a huge oak tree with a marker on it.  He crouched and picked up a flashlight, flicking it on and handing it to her.  He crept a little closer and got down on his stomach, waiting a few moments.  The brush rustled and she held her breath, a massive gray wolf appearing, focusing on him.

He stared at the wolf and after a moment, the wolf's tail wagged and he approached, licking Jon's hand and bowing his head in deference.  Jon stood and went with the wolf and a few others from the pack who came out.  He disappeared and a few moments later, he emerged holding a wiggling bundle.  She stood and carefully approached.  The wolves stared at her, obviously nervous at the interloper, but not moving because their alpha was trusting her.

Jon passed the bundle to her and she smiled, holding the warm creature, squeaking and wiggling in her arms.  It was still so small, these majestic creatures large enough to take down grown men and jaws as strong as steel, and yet here in her arms was this helpless little creation, fine downy fur a thin layer over its short limbs, ears barely flipped over, and eyes still shut.  She took a quick glance and noted the pup was female, wiggling into her, nuzzling and searching for her mother, crying out and eventually settling when she grew tired.

She stroked the little pup, eyes closed, and Jon took her back a few seconds later, returning her to her mother.  A few minutes of checking on them, bringing out another-- this one a little brown and gray one with a curled tail and one eye half open-- to nuzzle against her, they said their goodbyes to the pack, who appeared relieved to see them go.

It was magical, she thought, walking back with Jon to the car.

She stopped in her tracks at one point, letting go of his hand.

He turned, frowning.  "Okay?" he asked.

She took a deep breath, signing, the moonlight bright enough for him to see.  "I told you earlier, but you...I didn't want you to hear me."  He stiffened, knowing that meant she was talking to him.  She hated doing it, but she wanted him to know.  "We have to be strong Jon.  We can't run away.  I'm serious.  If this keeps up...." She trailed off and sobbed, letting it linger.  SHe didn't want to say it.

He tilted her face up to his, thumb brushing her chin.  He nodded.  "I know."

"I love you," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, squeezing, and said nothing, but she knew.  She exhaled, relieved.  It was just a bump, she told herself, just their constant struggling.  They had to work on it.  It wasn't supposed to be easy.

They had the rest of their lives to look forward to, she thought, letting go of him so they could walk back to the car.  She squeezed his hand tight.  They were going to be parents.  That would be the hardest thing, this was just a blip.  Just a little shadow.

They would be fine.  They were having a baby after all.

Just another month and they'd know.

Jon lifted her hand to his, kissing her knuckles, and she smiled, leaning against him and closed her eyes, walking back towards the car, feeling hopeful.

[zorcskhakis]

Ooooh can you do Ryou for the character ask thing?

YES YES bby boy

Sexuality Headcanon: SOOOOOOO incredibly gay

Gender Headcanon: I rly like him as either like, "gender is *shrug*" or as transmasc!

A ship I have with said character: HEARTSHIPPING HEARTSHIPPING I love those two soft weird little nerds 🥺💕

A BROTP I have with said character: Bakura!! I want them to be friends, I want them to be bros, I want them both to find the family they've been missing in eachother and just *clenches fist*

Also I think he and Marik would be friends! Marik loves getting to treat him like a little brother skfjsjfjdj

A NOTP I have with said character: I have tried but I just truly don't understand deathshipping at all 😭 Possibly because I don't really view YM as a full person in his own right, he feels very ill defined to me

A random headcanon: Ryou has a twitch channel where he talks occult stuff and plays bloodborne and random occult-based horror games for a huge legion of adoring fans. Sometimes Bakura hijacks the streams to talk about tabletop games and committing crimes

General Opinion over said character: BABY BOY BABY I love him SO much