#while feeling like a nuisance for requesting
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husbandograveyard · 2 years ago
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Me when someone comes back to always request the same character: omgg so happy to provide your favorite, yess here, have some content UwU ♡
Me, when i see open requests: I cant possibly be asking for the same character again, I'm gonna be such a burden and people are gonna be so annoyed about it.
AND I KNOW THEY WONT. and yet.
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imaginedisish · 10 months ago
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I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.
Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.
Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?
Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away
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He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him. 
You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction. 
You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett. 
His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—
“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”
You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him. 
He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands. 
He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more. 
God, you are so fucked. 
You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed. 
You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you. 
“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room. 
The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean. 
“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag. 
The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack. 
“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to. 
You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile. 
“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip. 
“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now. 
“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself. 
You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 
“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt. 
Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.
He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. 
“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink. 
You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open. 
You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now. 
 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you. 
You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”
“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”
You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means. 
His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself. 
“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.” 
He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in. 
“It’s more than that,” you admit. 
He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence. 
“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out. 
But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”
Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.  
“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.” 
Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours. 
And then finally, it comes out.
“I want you, Lo.”
You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him. 
So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.” 
He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.” 
And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head. 
He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly. 
“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say. 
He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side. 
“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”
He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.” 
“Fuck me, please.”  
He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.” 
You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you. 
Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.
“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine. 
He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.
“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again. 
He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.
“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 
He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”
“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”
“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 
“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for. 
He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out. 
“This what you wanted?” He teases.
“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak. 
“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge. 
“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. 
“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 
You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue. 
“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm. 
He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. 
“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”
There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”
“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.
He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”
“P-please,” you stutter. 
He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest. 
Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles. 
His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire. 
“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses. 
His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster. 
He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.” 
Always. 
It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more. 
“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you. 
He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too. 
“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. 
You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.” 
The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter. 
“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”
You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up. 
“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”
His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them. 
Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then. 
He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—
“I meant it.”
You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing. 
“I meant it, too.” 
tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung
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ratatoastwrites · 2 months ago
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Ok ok smut. I keep thinking about how the BAU is often gone on longer cases and a Spencer who missed his girlfriend on a long case and just wants to be really close to her so like clingy...maybe some cockwarming...umm yeah imma see myself out byyyeeeee
-🌞
a/n: i’m literally so sorry that this took me six months to post 😭 i literally have no words omg. but i totally loved!!!! this request and it was so much fun to write and i really hope that i did it justice 💕🧚‍♀️ (even though i feel like the ending might be a teensy bit rushed 😭) also also also: today is mgg’s birthday! omg! i love me a pisces man 🧎‍♀️‍➡️
well, without further ado
You feel like Home
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
nsfw, 18+ MDNI
cw: no use of y/n, Spencer calls reader Angel, smut, cockwarming, dry humping (barely though), words to describe the female genitalia, unprotected p in v sex, mentioned rough sex, Spencer is described as “pussy-whipped” (he is), kissing, some light making out ig, and umm maybe softdom!Spence (?) idrk tho, also english is not my first language so im sorry if this isn’t grammatically pristine
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• Before he met you, Spencer had no real qualms about his work schedule
• Sure, it was a bit of a hassle to travel for work so much, but let’s face it, he didn’t really have anything better to do
• While the rest of the team complained when they had little to no free time between cases, he was secretly happy for the distraction from his mostly uneventful life
• After he met you, though…
• To put it simply, Spencer was obsessed with you
• He fell fast and he fell hard, and now every second thought in that big brain of his was about you
• He most definitely would’ve spent every waking moment with you if that was possible
• Or inside you
• Pussy-whipped was one of the best ways to describe him
• But could you really blame him? You were beautiful, and alluring, and your skin was so soft under his touch, and you always smelled and tasted divine…
• Yeah, it was safe to say that you had him completely wrapped around your finger
• And now he suddenly understood why it was such a nuisance to have to travel across the country on a random thursday afternoon, for an unforeseeable amount of days
• He tried to call you as often as possible, but most of the time he was either too busy or your schedules just simply didn’t align
• It was no different on this case, and to make matters even worse, this time he had to go five whole days without seeing you, and three without getting to hear your voice
• So when he finally arrived home to your shared apartment, seeing you in one of his oversized sweaters, looking so inviting and cozy on the couch, smiling at him so sweetly as you greeted him…
 
“Spence,” you giggled softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him easier access, as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. You were seated in his lap, your arms around his neck, and his hands on your thighs on either sides of his hips. He has refused to let go of you ever since he came home almost an hour ago, his hands and lips not leaving your skin for even a second, as if he was afraid that you would disappear like a mirage.
“Hm?” He hummed against your neck, his lips focusing on your pulse point. He nipped and sucked on your pristine skin, covering it with small love bites. They would fade by the morning, but for now, he relished in getting to decorate you with his marks, like a physical reminder that you were his.
Your breath hitched, only letting out the shuddering breath that you sucked in, when his hands finally moved under your –his– sweater. You very quickly forgot what you were about to say, your hips rolling against his with a small, needy sound.
“Angel.” Spencer’s voice was soft, if a bit choked, his hands quickly sliding down to hold your hips. “I want to take my time with you tonight. Will you let me?”
You bit down on your lower lip, feeling your lower regions ache with desire from how he wound you up with his casual, gentle kisses and touches. At the same time though, you were feeling just as clingy as he was. You didn’t want this to end for a long time, didn’t want to rush into an orgasm.
So you just nodded, cupping Spencer’s cheeks as you leaned in to kiss him languidly. Your lips moved in sync, in a familiar, well-practiced dance, while you raised your hips to allow him to pull off your shorts and panties.
You reached down to the hem of your sweater, but he caught your wrists, stopping you from taking it off.
“Leave it on. Please,” he said, adding the adverb almost as an afterthought. “I like making you mine in my own clothes.”
And oh, that just simply wasn’t fair. He couldn’t seriously say stuff like that and expect you not to drag you needy, wet cunt against the noticeable bulge in his pants. You both moaned at the same time from the friction, and this time he didn’t have it in him to tell you to stop.
You kissed him deeply, moving your hands to unbuckle his belt, while he unzipped his pants –a combined effort, to get his poor, aching hardness out of the confines of his slacks as fast as possible.
There were very little words exchanged, lips parting as you both sighed into eachother’s mouths, once you finally sank down on his length.
“Jesus Christ, Angel. I missed you so much,” he whispered hotly against your lips, before dipping his head down, to press his lips to your throat.
It was hard to stay still at first. As much as you wanted to drag this out, his tip was nudging your cervix so deliciously that you couldn’t help but clench around him tightly. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him twitch inside you in response, while he whined against your skin.
But after a few minutes, you finally settled. It felt incredible, being connected with him so intimately, bodies and souls entwined on your couch. You kissed him lazily, before asking him about his day, his time away, letting him talk to you about the case –well, as much as he was allowed to tell you about it.
You talked and cuddled and just stayed in eachother’s embrace. Because after so long, you were finally reunited, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it.
And if a while later, after you’ve already discussed everything and caught up with eachother, he finally pounded you into the couch, well… You definitely weren’t one to complain about that either.
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temis-de-leon · 11 months ago
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He has a nightmare where he rejected you
Characters: Lucifer and Mammon (x gn!reader, separately)
Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5
Main Masterlist
CW: very OOC since they'd never reject you to begin with, but hey, that's why it's a nightmare
A/N: the rest of the brothers, as well as the dateables, will have their own part too, but I'm writing the requests and the fics for the 500 followers event at the same time, so everything will take some time <3
.
Lucifer – You weren’t his first choice
Under the fear and the mistrust, you showed a clear interest in him since the beginning.
He couldn’t blame you; he was handsome, after all, and he knew his attitude was attractive to most.
And while he found you beautiful as well, you meddled too much in his family’s business and your defiance to him only felt irritable.
You were a nuisance. A threat to his Lord’s wishes.
He made sure to keep you at arms’ length except the few times he felt the need to threaten you.
Surprisingly, the more you forced him to know you, the more he couldn’t say no.
Your shared time turned enjoyable and you soon started to hang out in his office late at night or, if you were an early riser like him, in the morning during breakfast.
He should’ve expected your romantic feelings towards him, something he saw before you had the chance to tell him. The way you looked at him or blushed when he paid you attention, how you searched for his presence more and more.
He rejected you before you could even talk to him about it.
It was brutal, in a way, cold and straight to the point. He didn’t bother to pour his heart into his apology.
He had his duties to Lord Diavolo, to his family and the kingdom.
The attraction he felt for you, the love that could’ve been, wasn’t enough for him to stay.
There were two types of pain in his chest when he woke up: the pressure in his sternum caused by the sharp edge of the desk and the sting in his heart from the hurt in your eyes.
He didn’t do that, did he?
He accepted you, he accepted your love with open arms, gave his in return. Lucifer could remember the smile in your first kiss just as much as the sincerity in your voice each time you reminded him the depth of your feelings. He always opened his ribcage like you would with a book to show his reciprocation.
Staring at his paperwork in horror, the pool of saliva slowly drying under his distress, Lucifer searched for memories that could prove the existence of your relationship. Your weight on his lap, your scent in his clothes, the last message you sent him, the last time he treated you on a date.
When was that?
How many days ago?
Weeks? Months??
His fingers trembled when he pushed his hair back and he knew the sting in his eyes wasn’t due to fatigue. Now gasping, eyes wide open in panic, he got up and paced around the room, the false reality of his dreams thankfully fading away and letting him see himself pouring two drinks while you stared at him in adoration, setting you on top of the table to kiss you carelessly or letting you drag him out of the office for a good night sleep.
 “Dear Diavolo” he mustered to himself, taking his coat off and letting it fall to the ground before breathing deeply. “How stupid… Stupid…”
Although not entirely, the embarrassment of suffering such despair for a nightmare washed the panic away, making him thank everything that would listen that none of his brothers were there to witness his fear and desperation.
It was the last thing he needed.
However, still hating the oneiric sight of your heartbreak, Lucifer refused to stay in the office. Reading official documents and signing them with his beautifully practised handwriting seemed like proper torture now and he knew that going back to his work would only give him more suffering dreams.
Would you hug him for the rest of the night if he asked or would you rather have the roles reversed, as it usually was? Oh, what he would do to feel your fingers through his hair and your heartbeat under his cheek. He’d stay awake forever if that meant never letting you go the way he did in his dream.
.
Mammon – He wouldn’t admit the truth
He thought so lowly of you during your first week in the Devildom that once he caught feelings, admitting them was simply mortifying.
The second born, Avatar of Greed, falling in love with a human? It was embarrassing at best and pathetic at worst.
Yet, he followed you every step of the way. Going to classes, to the cafeteria, back to the house once the day was over...
As days went by, he even spent more time in your room than his; watching a movie, taking a nap, studying or just hanging out.
And when he wanted to do something else? Something more… illegal and underground?
Oh, you followed. You followed him just as blindly as he followed you.
It was painful, yet wonderful.
How full his chest felt whenever you smiled or even looked at him, the complicity in your conversations, the comfortable silence you shared.
The quiet sobs that closed his throat each time he insulted you because he accidentally showed too much of himself, the horrifying emptiness of his room that engulfed him when you finally had enough and wouldn’t let him visit you out of the blue anymore.
Your feelings for him were as clear as the ones he had for you, but none of them were spoken about.
Yours came and went, first hopeful and then neglected.
His stayed.
He still followed, you just didn’t look back anymore.
He woke up crying, body hyperventilating and sweating and mind still in the horror that his dream had created.
He recognized the sheets as the ones from his bed, but everything else looked blurry and too dark to pay attention to. However, Mammon could feel the spot next to him still warm and the silhouette of your figure was visible on the mattress. A quick glance at the door and the lights of the bathroom shining through helped set his heart in a steady pace.
You were there with him, unavailable for just a couple of minutes, but soon to return to the comfort of his arms. Your clothes were mixed with his on the sofa, he was charging his DDD with your charger because his was in your room.
Even if it was hard to say out loud, Mammon loved you too much to ever let you go, as did you.
There was no possibility of that nightmare ever being real.
“Did I wake you up?”
There you stood, above him, hair completely dishevelled, eyes half closed, either from grogginess or the temporary blindness from light exposure, and hands reaching out for him. Your fingers intertwined with his as soon as they found each other and your lips slowly came down to clumsily kiss the corner of his mouth.
“What was that?” he softly laughed, quickly forgetting about the nightmare.
“Shut up, I can’t even see you”
He could only observe in tenderness and relief as you climbed over him, ignoring your side of the bed in favour of his entire torso, but, just when you were settling in, you licked your lips and stared at him, even if you weren’t entirely able to see.
“Baby, are you crying?”
“No, I’m not” he immediately answered in a defensive stance, blushing in embarrassment.
How could you know being blind as a mole?? Did you taste his tears when you kissed him?
“Mammon”
You tried to look serious, but the exhaustion betrayed you, turning your glare into a pout. He could’ve laughed at you, and he would’ve in any other situation, but the feeling of being too late to freely love you still crushed his heart and the only thing he wanted to do was to keep you close and hope you were still there by morning.
“I’m not crying” he insisted, this time in a softer tone.
That seemed to reach whatever was left of your consciousness, so you finally let your head fall on top of his chest to continue your slumber, talking one last time only to say what he needed to hear the most.
“I love you, Mams”
“I love you too” he sighed.
He’d tell you again once you were awake. And once more after that, just to make sure.
.
.
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valentine-cafe · 4 months ago
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1 caramel cheesecake pls! [bottom male reader]
filthy rich spoiled reader who gets himself taught a lesson by alessio in his room while also being scared about getting caught by anyone at the estate. (alessio does NOT give a fuck)
if its too specific you can ignore this ask <3
˖⁺. “ fuck yourself, rich boy ! ” :
﹙ top outlaw male x bttm richboy male ﹚.𖹭 ݁
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. . . verse 9819 alessio x male reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ outlaw ˖ serial killer ˖ illusionist character ﹚
you grew up in the comfort parts of society. high class in comparison to the rest. but what happens when you start finding yourself messing with the leader of a rebel group? well, your bratty nature lands you in a bit of a predicament. bent over in your bedroom while the outlaw himself rails you dumb. 
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﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ risky sex ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ degradation ˖ handjob ˖ prone bone ˖ marathon sex ˖ brat taming ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ cum-eating | wc : 1.8k 
﹙ receipts ﹚: the way I gasped when I saw this request GID I had so much fun writing it ! 
꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱
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“Talk to me, tesoro. Thought that’s all you’re good for?”
Your tie mocks the strain of your wrists, wrapped tight in a bound to your arching spine. The painful curve induced by an even tighter hand locked in your hair. Tugging every time you hang your head to let your tears of overwhelm hit the floor.
You’ll be clad in long sleeves and turtlenecks for the rest of the week with the bruises, hickies and plethora of bites all over your skin. None of that compared to the constant, hammering feel of his hips. Snapping into the backs of your thighs. Once, twice, thrice.
What is air? A luxury at this point. None of your riches could compare. Not when his swollen tip slams into that devastating bundle of nerves. Your lower lip falls from your teeth. Much like your erect dick bouncing aimlessly with every jerk of a thrust.
“Oh, but - I suppose I’m wrong, right?” Damn that deep croon to your ear. And the tickle of his dark curls on your cheekbone while you’re at it. But how could any of him crawl to the pits with the heaven that he sends you to?
Bent over in your own room. Feet between his shoes. Held like you weigh a feather as he chases bruises on your soft thighs. The claps of wet skin bounce off the walls. Merged with moans. Whines. Strangled gasps.
“You’re also good at taking cock.”
Punctuated with a harsh spank to your ass. Emerald eyes catch the ripple across your skin. He mimics it further by slamming all the way. Grinding. Humping. Any shallow slam to rub on your weak spot and huff struggled breathe from drooling lips.
But that’s not all from the wave of heated breath. A quivered: “Sh-Shut - shut uuppp -” carries in your pants. Tongue once confidently in spits of insult and disrespect now slobbers saliva all over your pristine floor. “Y-You’re a nuisance. An eyesore - a - f-fuchk-!”
Your dick twitches in the large hand squeezed around the base. His fingers are just as skilled as his hips. Cruel pumps and jerks that squirt your cum to the floor with a strangled noise bobbed from your Adam’s apple. All Alessio can do is flash a grin you catch a glimpse of in the mirror at your side. Before both palms snatch your waist and shove you back on his cock that he tames great pleasure in fucking into you faster. Harder. So that the slapping of skin rings through your ears like a sinful, broken record.
“P-Please - please o-oh god - fuckfuckfuck -”
What more can you do but arch? The lift of your spine shoves your ass into his pelvis. He takes it as an invitation to hold you firm against it since you clearly offered. Slam up into you until his balls greet your supple flesh with taps and smacks.
“P-People. . . ‘re gonna hear. Y-You jer- ah!” Another squeeze round your dick for your big mouth. Have you learnt nothing? Not that this is much of a learning experience if you can barely think.
The only thought running through your mind is the stretch of his big cock. The kiss of his veins on all your sweet spots. Their thrum. Your nerves on clear overdrive when he digs a calloused thumb into your tip and strokes until you’re teary.
You’ll squirt his palm all over again if he continues. No that he cares with the rough bucks that he fucks against your quivering hips. The deep chuckle from his throat would have have itched your palms to smack him. Alas, all you could do was wish to cling at his shoulders. Scrape down his back as he pounded you so full.
The creaking of floorboards constantly snapped your fucked-out mind from the depths of overstimulation. Were servants stepping closer. Or worse - your family?
You’d have no time to care when Alessio would withdraw to the tip then slam forward and hit your sweetspot dead on. Brimming tears to your eyes and a groan from the depths of his throat. Those emerald hues flicker to the ring of cream round his cock and he grins through sweat-drenched tresses. “What, they’ll hear? Hear you gettin’ pounded by an outlaw?”
He snaps his hips forward at that. With a power that jerks your poor body. The gasp fleeing your lips melts into a whimper when his fingers choose cruelty to your hair again. Twisting you to face the mirror as his free hand drops to your hip. A smack. A squeeze. Before he’s fucking you back into him like a ragdoll. Shoes planted firmly to the floor as he effortlessly uses your body like a sleeve.
“See what a whore you are? Cummin’ all over your fuckin’ floor and messing up this ‘expensive fabric’?”
His teeth tear into the collar of your shirt. If it weren’t for your tongue hanging out you’d cuss at him. Alas you are too preoccupied with being his little cumdump as he pumps you full once more.
You’d think he’d slow down after his second time spraying your gummy walls white. If anything it rejuvenates his punishing thrusts and turns your thighs to putty as he hammers at a sinful rhythm. Squeezing cum from the both of you and running it down your wobbly legs.
Alessio’s laugh is almost as callous as his hand that snaps around your jaw. “Look at yourself baby. First time taking cock like this? Yeah? Spoilt lil’ rich boy doesn’t know shit ‘bout the real world.”
Softness encases your front. The first in several minutes of being his tight toy. It fades with his heavy weight crushing you into the mattress after the outlaw shoved you into your sheets. Knees knocking yours apart to make way for the barrage of his mercilessly thrusts.
“A-Ah - ah-ah-ah!” Your eyes cross at the centre. He shoves your head to the linen. Another spank. Another grab at your poor, jiggling ass. He spreads you open for his imagination to picture it. Picture his veiny cock splitting you into two. Your tight rim struggling and crying around every inch. Not to mention his cum fucking out of you with every rabid hump.
“Tha’s it, yeah pretty boy. Yeah take it. Fucking whore.” His grunts drip with mockery that pours to your neck with his rough kisses. Your dick grinds and rubs into the linen. Great. Another mess to worry about later. When you come down from the high. Stuffed full of his cum and unable to stop the tremble of your thighs. “Imagine it. ‘magine them coming in - hah - seeing this - seeing you -”
The only thing to stop Alessio’s malicious laugh is the clench of your walls. He smacks your ass again in reprimand. A grunt soon follows. “Now that your ass ‘s nice ‘n full. . . apologise.” Another slam to your sweetspot.
And still, despite your eyes rolling back. Ass getting pounded for all your worth. Who knows how many concerned servants covering their ears through the halls — you wheeze.
“F-Fuck - angh - f-fuck you - fuck you, a-and - and every - god - ‘m n-not sorry-”
Your dick gets a break from the rough rubs of linen when the warm of his fingers encase it after a hand squeezes past your front flushed to the mattress. His thumb goes back to what it does best. Swirling around your tip. Squeezing the slit.
But this time he samples your sticky slick. Savors the feel of it between his fingers. Before he’s shoving your sweetness into your mouth. The pads of his index and middle press on your tongue, just as he’s pressing into the spot that makes you gurgle a sob.
“You taste that, you fuckin’ brat?” The hiss to your ear follows a thrust of his fingers. He hits the back of your throat with no care for how much you slobber all over his hand. “That’s you. Cumming like a fucking whore for me. Now lest you don’t wanna be dumped off in your foyer all creamed up and shaky. Apologise.”
The harsh ram of his cock at an angle tells you he’s not above humiliating you. After all, what’s it to him if a spoilt rich boy gets humiliated by his servants?
You’re the one constantly seeking him out. You’re the one who engages the flirts and mockeries flung across the bar of the Contraire. You’re the one who sneaks out every other day to suck off a serial killer when your parents aren’t looking.
Once he’s done finger-fucking your mouth, he withdraws with a trail of drool attached to his nail beds. Long digits grip your jaw and force your head up. So that he can hear your pretty, pitiful gasps as he shallowly pounds you sore.
“I-I - ‘m - s-sorry -”
“What was that?”
A squeeze to your throat. You gurgle on your spit and limp your head in his hold. Submit to the endless ramming of his hips into yours. Your tummy twisting and insides flaring as you cum a fourth - fifth - sixth time. “I’m - iii’mm so- s’rry - sorry-! Alessio-!”
He’s creaming you again. Stuffing you full and squirting some out to your rippling thighs and bedsheets. If only to chase after another release with the way he starts ploughing you into the sheets. His chuckle hoarse and rough like his teeth clamping on your ear.
“There we go. Finally acting like a good - mnn - fucking slut. Proud of you baby.”
Get ready to be flipped and pounded into the mattress with strong arms hooking your knees. Folding you in half. Making you his pretty boy toy to take his cock. A rich boy so full of cum from an outlaw. A man you should disgust.
One you can’t stop squeezing round the cock of.
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monstersholygrail · 7 months ago
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Request/idea for Monstober/Kinktober:
~Being free use for a pack of werewolves~
Maybe the reader is like a moon witch or something that makes the werewolves just go feral
Maybe they all live in a house together and they love the reader but also fuck her brains out daily
Sometimes it’s one on one, sometimes it’s a gangbang
But she’s so happy with her pack of werewolves that make her feel so good
Trying to combine these was a workout lmao.
Having to share the forest with a Werewolf Pack was far more of a hassle than you ever expected. Being a Moon Witch it was only natural for you to live in a forest in a cute little cottage. You loved your home but the nearby Werewolf pack was the only downside. Their wolves were insatiable.
When on runs they couldn’t help but follow the alluring scent of your cunt. They’d end up at your door and you could barely blink before they’re bending you over the closest available surface and fucking your brains out. Sometimes it would be one going on a solo run. He’d ravish you for hours, pounding into your fat cunt till you saw stars. Other times it was a whole pack of them. Taking you one right after the other till you couldn’t even keep track of how many times you explode around their knot. But by the end you’re left with a belly full of hot cum.
You were happy to help but it made getting things done very difficult.
So for a bit of payback, the next full moon you strengthen its powers. You don’t exactly know what it’ll do but you hope the wolves go mad. Their howls explode through the night sky and you grin. But it falls from your face as you notice their growls growing closer.
They’re breaking through the tree-line and pouncing on you in moments. Their claws digging into your flesh, all of them marking you as they wish. Using their hold on you they pull you left and right, trying to get you to swallow their cock, pump their shafts, clench around their cocks, and split open your ass.
After a night lost in a pleasure you’ve never known, they suggest you moving into their pack house. You’re too fucked out to disagree, your body aching and your heart fluttering with the realization they’ll be able to take you like this whenever you want. And take you they do. Over and over again. They can’t get enough of you, their perfect mate. And they made you feel so damn good. Not only in the rough and loving way they fucked you senseless but in the way they cared for you and cherished you beyond reason or sanity.
While you once thought of them as a nuisance, an issue you had to deal with in your forest, that had all changed now. You wouldn’t give up your pack of werewolves for anything in the world. They were your mates and you were theirs and you couldn’t imagine ever being happier.
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itheunknown · 3 months ago
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odi et amo - (02) none for me
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negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam
masterlist / prev / next
(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...
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alfred fears he's failed you.
you always were a quiet child, swallowing all the hurt you felt and buried it within your soul. he fears the hurt has consumed you.
he can't confidently say that he's done all he could for you, trying to manage the manor along with the other dysfunctional residents amd their nightly activities, which rendered him unable in giving you his undivided attention.
if he could to back, he would change it all in a heartbeat.
he vividly remembers the day commissioner gordon had phoned him about you, and was briefed about your background and the “accident” through the call, feeling a sense of relief that you had a somewhat normal background. when he saw you, he took that back. the chair you were on looked too big for your malnourished frame, the bandages swallowing your entire body and a couple bruises here and there. but what struck him were your eyes. they were so distant, bags heavy, with no light in them. the eyes that wordlessly show the hidden horrors you’ve been through.
you reminded him of bruce.
you were understandably skittish, settling into a completely new environment and seeing unfamiliar faces that you just had to accept were your now family. he assumed that with time you'd be able to overcome it after mourning the loss of your aunt, along with the help of everyone welcoming you with open arms and getting you accustomed to your new life as part of their family.
yet, that never happened.
he sees them dismiss you.
he’s seen you stand politely outside bruce’s office until he’s done with his tasks before requesting something (the bare necessities), all because previously, the first time (and only time) you had mistakenly interrupted his meeting in order to hand him the papers that alfred had asked you to, bruce had raised his voice at you for being a nuisance.
he’s seen the way you stare at dick when he interacts with the other members, showering them in brotherly love, yet walking past you like you were a piece of furniture, not noticing you.
he’s seen the way you had recommended jason books based on what he had read, only for him to scoff into your face and undermine your intellect, purposely limiting his interactions with you.
he’s seen the way you curiously looked through tim’s door that was left ajar, only for him to give you a scornful look and slamming it in your face, calling you annoying.
he’s seen the way you had agreed to every one of damian’s snide and hateful comments about how you were never good enough for the last name you do not hold, just because he was the only person who paid you any mind.
he's seen the way cassandra could easily read people, but never seemed to think you were worthy enough to give you the time of day, even while your eyes would try to find hers.
he's seen how easy it was for you to cry yet you never allowed yourself to do so, you'd curl your hands into tight fists until it pales and bleeds.
he’s seen the emptiness in your gaze when they’re locked on everyone during dinner, talking and engrossed in each other’s conversation, taking part of each other's lives while leaving you in the sidelines, standing at the doorway before you'd leave to your room, never joining them.
do they not see you?
a few months after you'd settled in, you had requested alfred that he would only really need to come clean your room once a week if at all, claiming that cleaning gives you a sense of control and there's a particular way it needed to be done. you rarely asked anything of him, you were self-sufficient to a fault, never allowing yourself to rely on anyone but yourself. he had offered to learn how you liked the cleaning to be done, but you remained unconvinced. so as to not overstep, he obliged.
he wished he didn’t. he sees you retreat further into yourself. he sees you spiral. he sees it all, yet was unable to stop it. he sees, but does nothing.
alfred cared. but that didn’t mean he could save you.
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the weather was gloomy, the grey sky stretched on above you as you watched the soft puffs of smoke escaped from your lips floated up to join the clouds. the familiar comfort that a cigarette brings you feels like a blessing these days. smoking helps lift the weight that weighs heavy on your skull, you try to soothe it even more by pressing harshly against your eye with your other hand void of the burning cigarette. you know it's a bad habit that you should ideally kick, especially worse if you were caught by anyone, but do you actually care?
“thought i'd find you here.”
you don't even need to turn around, recognizing the voice too well.
“what is it this time?”
another voice chippers, the peaceful atmosphere you were surrounded in was interrupted. you sigh and put out the cigarette, waving your hand around to fan the smoke away from your only two friends. they both giggle and extend their arms towards you to pull you up.
“you know, with the amount you've smoked lately, alfred might find out. like, i can smell you before i see you.” they tut at you half-heartedly, watching you brush the dirt off your uniform.
it has become a routine for you, to linger behind after school ends at the more secluded areas, where you hide your bike inside the overgrown bushes (in fear of it being stolen yet again) and smoke away your troubles before making your way back. it's not a habit you started recently, you first smoked when you were working that shitty job to keep you and your aunt afloat, and having mental breakdowns behind the restaurant during break on every shift started to become too much of a nuisance, which was when a coworker had offered you theirs; but you can tell your friends could see that you've been turning to it more often.
with the chatter following behind, you start walking your bicycle towards the main gates of the school, ready to take your usual route home. occasionally joining in their conversations, you're about to bid your friends goodbye until you catch the weird looks the other students throw at you while trying to increase their distance. your hands tighten around the handlebars, trying to remain unfazed as you stood there.
you couldn't even consider yourself a complete social reject, you had tried to remain on everyone's good side to ensure a smooth educational experience: you were helpful and nice, you had good grades and were consistently the top 5 students in your year, and taking parts in various clubs and after school activities. however, no amount of effort could erase the somewhat unsettled look your classmates throw your way and the worried look you teachers would cast at you.
for once, you hoped to not be seen.
does the disdain come from how they never saw your family show up to anything that involved you? or was it because you were a tryhard? it's not like you did it to prove yourself to your family or classmates, but it was a good distraction from the numbness that's eating you whole. you don’t understand what you’ve done. you were clearly not lacking in terms of academic achievements and extracurriculars, so it only left your social life to be judged. your social circle, which only really included your 2 friends, are the sweetest and most supporting characters you’ve known despite being constantly ignored by others, so you come to conclude that you must be the problem. the duo gave you a worried glance, patting your shoulder as you stood there. “hey, don't mind them, you can't please everyone you know.” “yeah, you can't control everything! just let it go.” your other friend chimes in, pushing the back of your bike, prompting you all to walk again.
you smiled, your friends have always been your source of comfort, it was a bond you’ve built on trust and wordless understanding, they had been so compassionate about what you’ve been through even if you rarely opened up - they might be the only people keeping you sane. they understood you more than you did yourself.
you compose yourself and hop on your bicycle, turning back to wave at them. with a sigh, you pushed off, their silhouette fades into into the distance as the wind caresses your face while you pedal. you try not dread having to go back to the manor, enjoying the few short moments you feel at peace within your daily routine, you cycle on the familiar path you've taken countless times before - it's just another day to return to the house that was not your home.
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damian was rummaging through your room. mostly out of boredom from roaming the countless empty halls within the manor absent-mindedly, walking past countless doors before he noticed yours. he really didn't have any malicious intentions, despite his distaste of your existence, he was not one to seek you out to make your life harder, he was above that - at least, that's what he believes.
there's not much to see in your room, a couple band posters peeling at the edges, books scattered next to the table lamp on the carpet, bed tidy but not neatly, opened notebooks on your desk. it fills him with contempt. you are less than: no prophecy to fulfil, no legacy to uphold - but also, no trauma to drag you down, your past a clean slate. sharing the same father, but not cut from the same cloth.
unlike him, you were ridiculously normal. unlike him, you were free.
maybe he resents you more than he initially thought.
his eyes lands on a small shirt hung on the wall, it might as well be baby attire.
it was a ragged looking thing, really. the colours worn off, the edges a little frayed but not from use, but rather the quality. curiously, he steps on your bed reaching for it to investigate further.
"what are you doing."
embarrassingly, damian did not care enough to get caught being nosy in your room in the first place. so when you opened your door that was oddly left ajar to see damian standing on your bed with his shoes on after a long day of school, he feels compromised. before he stumbles off your bed, his hand manages to snag the edge of the shirt, pulling it off the walls. your eyes finally catches on to what he was reaching for and your heart rate quickens.
despite how increasingly difficult it was for you to remain calm, you try to smile, "please give that back, damian" you're so nervous your hands almost shake trying to urge him to return it. damian feels humiliated being forced to confront the person whose room he was snooping through, so he fists the article tighter in his hand and snarls at you. seeing as he is not intending to return it, you take a cautious step forward, raising both of your arms.
like a threatened dog, he pushes you harshly with his entire body weight to make way for the door. you stumble back in shock, but grab onto his shoulder before he manages to leave your room. "damian, please, that's very important to me" you plead, trying to pry his fingers off it.
in damian's mind, this was no longer about what's yours, this was his power being questioned.
"you don't even need this rag anymore" he slaps your hand away. your patience wearing thin, frustration bubbling to the surface of your composure, you start forcefully trying to snatch it back. soon, you both were fighting for it, pulling back and forth. you were obviously at a disadvantage, but in your desperation, it didn't matter. you scream at him to let go.
and damian? he's starting to get entertained, having never seen you this emotional before. this was like a game to him, it's too easy to overpower you, so he drags the fight on despite you landing a few hits on him yourself - he's mocking you. the brawl continues, until the sound of fabric ripping stills you.
in your hand was nearly half of your shirt, the other half still firmly held in damian's grasp.
colour leaves your face, you stare in horror at the torn up shirt, not being able to utter a sound.
meanwhile, the fun was over for damian, so he saw no purpose in remaining in your room as he wordlessly let go of the fabric and walked out, stepping on it on the way as if for good measure.
you grabbed him by the shirt, eyes holding back tears. "that was the only thing left from my mother."
the revelation stills him, he feels bad, and he hates that he feels anything for you besides hatred.
"so? that's not my problem. it's not my fault your peasant of a mother couldn't afford anything else to leave you with" he taunts, "in fact, she couldn't even afford to raise you, so now you're here leeching off while haunting the manor with your unnecessary presence."
"what do you know about my mom" damian's eyes widen, taken aback by the seriousness in your tone, contrasting all the times defaulted into being a pushover when with him. you're so upset, your grip on his shirt tightens as you glare through the tears streaming down your face, "i didn't even get to know my mom!"
it's no surprise that with the ruckus that you both caused, it wouldn't have gone unheard. so when alfred came to check and inquire what all the noise was about, he witnessed you yell and push damian to the floor harshly. before you could even register alfred's presence, a force had struck you - your head snapped to the side while the sting starts to burn on your cheek.
alfred had slapped you. alfred. slapped. you.
you and damian stare at him in shock, alfred himself is in disbelief. what had he done? he tries to justify his actions to you, trying to make himself believe he did the right thing.
"damian is younger than you, as the older child you must understand. this is, in no way, an acceptable display as the older sibling."
surely you understand, you always do! he just feared things would have spiraled out of control. right? you're almost catatonic, eyes wide staring at him in disbelief, not believing your ears.
"you must understand."
he stares into your eyes, almost pleading that you'd forgive him. but all that was reflected in your gaze was a look filled with horror and betrayal.
you pushed through both of them, the call of your name falling on deaf ears, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door, locking it.
alfred cared, but not enough.
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heyyyyyyyyyy 👋☺️... i uh.. may or may not have used actual events that happened to me in here #projecting am i right :heh: thank you for all your lovely comments 🫶 you're all so skibbidi it really helped motivate me (not to abandon my writing)! as always interactions are very appreciated ⊹ ࣪ ˖ (TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :yowaimo: @confused-they @hoeinthehouse @strwberryglass @heartjwonie @glitchmshade @bat1212 @buddee @eyeless-kun @thereeallink @icantcryicantstopcrying @bunbunboysworld @gh0str00m @wizzerreblogs @lazy-kari202 @dotomuses @gwyneveire @gh6st24 @roseapov @kore-of-the-underworld @kingshitonly @plsfckmedxddy @unknownloner1345 @moon-2232 @lilithquillete @v3vina @froggy-voidd @angrybuttooshorttofightyou @sami0169 @m3vlOvesu @pix-stuff @bunbunbread @agent-nobody-knows @cxcilla @horror-lover-69 @redkarmakai @mariadvorak @shirp-collector-of-fixations @batboygirlie @diejager @noclue-0 @sick2mystmch @novs9011 @kitkatkitmeow @crazycaoticsimp @majonla @hebaoffside
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theobservatory · 1 month ago
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i love the way you write about jason, especially in the confession post- can i request jason with a very very talkative SO??
Thank you pookie !! Hopefully I didn't make reader annoying, I kinda based her off myself when I start feeling manic lmaoo, it's the only time I really get talkative IRL so it was kinda all I had to base it on
。⁠.゚✧ ˎˊ˗
Talkative。⁠.゚★ ˎˊ˗
。⁠☆Synopsis: a few snapshots of you talking Jason's ear off
。⁠☆Cw: mention of harassment, inane conversation topics, mention of body horror
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You're sitting on the couch. One of Jason's large hands is rubbing little circles on your thigh, the other is holding his phone as he gets as much work done as he can without his computer. He would go get it, but you've already gotten comfortable laying your head on his shoulder.
"So then Alyssa- you remember Alyssa, don't you?" No, he does not. "So Alyssa tells Jackson to go file the rest of the reports, right?"
"Mhm."
"Right, only for him to quit, right on the fucking spot. Like I don't like this job either, but I'm still giving my two weeks because some of us still have courtesy! It's not about the business, it's about our coworkers, our kinda friends who we'd rather not inconvenience because they're pleasant enough, but would never hangout with outside of work. God, he was an asshole anyway."
"I believe it."
"And then- wait oh my God, Jason! I completely forgot to tell you about Anna! The new girl! Turns out she's sleeping with our boss's son!" Oh, that guy he remembers.
"The guy who slapped your ass?" The same one who you said isn't bothering you anymore, and he's trying to trust you, but he doesn't really believe it.
"The one and only." You groan. "Must've moved onto fresh meat, poor Anna. She's a sweet girl y'know?"
"Mhm."
。⁠.゚✧ ˎˊ˗
"Jay."
He grunts, turning over in bed to look at you. Your eyes are wide in the moonlight, not a speck of the sleepiness that was there just a few minutes ago. Jason wishes he could share the sentiment. Frankly, he's exhausted, and he's been looking forward to sleeping all day.
"Do you ever think about the fact that we're all brains puppeting fleshy meat suits? How crazy is that?!"
Jason sighs. Half of his job in your life is to protect you from the horrors of the world, but sometimes he believes you are the horrors in question. Not that he minds. You can be a worm and he would love you all the same.
"Baby, go to sleep."
"But Jay, I can't stop thinking about it! We're just a bunch of nerves disguised by a vaguely animal flesh bag and-"
He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling you into his chest.
"Sleep." He grunts again.
You laugh. "Okay."
The blissful silence doesn't last long.
"Jay?"
"Yes, nuisance who won't go to sleep?"
"Rude. I just wanted to tell you that you're my favorite meat puppet in the world, but maybe I take it back now."
"I'm okay with that."
"Jason!" You pinch his arm.
"If I tell you you're my favorite puppet will you go to sleep?"
"Yes."
"Then you're my favorite." Quieter he mumbles, "for some fucking reason."
。⁠.゚✧ ˎˊ˗
"Okay, now the recipe requires two eggs, a cup of water, and vegetable oil. Can you grab the eggs out the fridge for me."
"I got it."
"Thanks. Did you know my mom wanted to raise chickens when we were kids, even though I've never lived on a farm? Plus, I don't even like chickens, they're like tiny predators! If I had to-"
"Sweetheart, mix the eggs."
"Oh, right. If I had to choose between fighting one chicken sized horse, or one horse sized chicken, I would choose the horse every time!"
"Mhm."
"Well, I'm still biased because I like horses, but still! I don't know, maybe I should use the analogy with a wolf, because I'm still choosing the wolf every time."
"The next step?"
"Mix wet and dry ingredients together. Actually, while we're on the topic-"
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New blog theme new me, y'all. Do we like it ? I made almost all the dividers myself (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)
Not proofread as usual, posting this right before bed so I'll see y'all in the morning. I have a post about baby names ready for tomorrow, so look forward to that, and PLEASE give me your input I don't wanna give them dumb names 😔💔
。⁠☆Requests Open...?
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kxsagi · 2 months ago
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Hiiii!! I like your account very much and the way you write is great. I thought something like, sae x fem reader, reader is cheerful, understanding, playful and talkative. She's always the one who initiates the conversation, the contact with Sae. But one day, she's worried that Sae is uncomfortable, so she doesn't talk to him or hug him, so what if Sae noticed?
“𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐃 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬”
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a/n: thank you so much!!! this was kinda easy to write bc i am definitely this type of person lol
also, guys i swear i see requests in my inbox, i write them down for future reference, and when i’m about to write them, they’re like gone??? 😭
like i was gonna write it, i just need a couple days because i have other things going on, and i will respond if i am not comfortable writing it lol
(art credits go to immmso_ko on X)
sae itoshi isn’t used to being the one who reaches out first. 
he doesn’t need to. 
not when you’re around. 
you, with your sunshine grin and warm hands. you, who waltz into his life every morning like you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever with a caffeine addiction. 
you, who hum off-key to whatever song’s been rotting in your brain all week. who pops into the kitchen just to press a surprise kiss to his cheek and dramatically declare, “that was your daily serotonin dose. you’re welcome.” 
you, who casually slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt when you hug him just to be a little nuisance about it. “oh wow, your back is so warm. you’re like a human heater. lucky me.” 
sae rolls his eyes every time. pretends to be annoyed. but he never stops you. 
and maybe that’s the problem. 
because now, he’s starting to think he’s been too good at pretending. 
it takes him a while to figure out what feels off. 
at first, he thinks maybe he’s just in a fouler mood than usual. his teammates were particularly slow during training. his coach was nagging more than necessary. the post-practice traffic was a nightmare. 
but then he walks into the apartment. 
and it hits him. 
the space is… quiet. too quiet. 
no overenthusiastic “sae!! you’re home!!” followed by you practically launching yourself at him like a feral cat on catnip. no sudden, unsolicited dance breaks in the kitchen while you wait for the water to boil. not even a playful jab about how he never texts you when he’s on his way home. 
just… silence. 
he finds you on the couch, scrolling through your phone. when you glance up and smile, it’s small. polite. the kind you’d give to a coworker you barely tolerate. 
okay. weird. 
he figures maybe you’re just tired. long day or whatever. but no, even when he sits next to you, you don’t do… anything. 
you don’t tuck your legs over his lap. you don’t lean against him or comb your fingers through his hair like you usually do when he’s within a five-foot radius. 
you’re not touching him. 
the realization makes his eye twitch. 
he’s not even being subtle about his staring at this point. he’s glaring at you like you’ve personally wronged him. and you, being the self-aware ray of sunshine that you are, notice immediately. 
"what’s wrong?" you ask softly. 
he narrows his eyes. "you tell me." 
you blink. "huh?" 
"you’re acting weird," he says bluntly, and you blink again, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice. 
"what? no, i’m not," you say with a too-quick shake of your head. 
he squints at you. unimpressed. he’s not letting this go. 
"you are," he deadpans, voice low and flat. 
and that’s when you start to sweat. 
you glance away, suddenly very interested in the coffee table. "i’m not," you mutter under your breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. 
but he’s not buying it. 
"yes, you are." 
"no, i’m not." 
"you are." 
"i’m not." 
he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes narrow further. "you are." 
"i’m not!!" 
a brief, heated staring contest ensues. 
… you lose. obviously. 
you sigh, slumping back against the couch. your shoulders sink slightly, and for the first time tonight, you look… sheepish. almost guilty. 
"i just…" you exhale softly, voice quieter than before. "i didn’t want to be… too much." 
his eyes flicker. "what?" he mutters. 
your fingers pick at a loose thread in your sleeve, suddenly avoiding his gaze again. 
"i wasn’t sure if you liked it when i… y’know, talk so much. or cling to you all the time. you never… complain or anything, but you never really initiate either, so…" you trail off, your voice growing smaller. "i thought maybe you were just putting up with it. so i didn’t want to, like… overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable." 
sae stares at you. 
and suddenly, he feels like a massive fucking idiot. 
because here you are, walking on eggshells around him – him – when all you’ve ever done is make his life warmer. brighter. easier. 
and what did he do? 
he let you think he didn’t want it. 
he presses his lips into a thin line. swallows down the brief twinge of self-loathing and quietly reaches for your hand. 
the moment his fingers brush against yours, you freeze slightly. but when he intertwines them with deliberate slowness, you blink, clearly caught off guard. 
"don’t do that again," he mutters, voice low but steady. "don’t pull away." 
your brows furrow slightly, confused. "but i thought –" 
"don’t," he cuts you off, and you immediately fall silent. he squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, gaze unwavering. 
"i like it," he mutters, voice a little strained, almost like the words are foreign to him. "when you talk. when you touch me. i…" he inhales sharply, eyes narrowing slightly, almost annoyed at himself for being so bad at this. "i like it. alright?" 
you blink at him, wide-eyed. 
he waits for you to say something. anything. 
but then you just… burst into laughter. 
his eyes narrow slightly, but before he can ask what the hell is so funny, you’re suddenly climbing into his lap. 
and for once, he doesn’t flinch. 
he exhales sharply when your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him like you’re trying to fuse your body with his. your fingers immediately find their way under his shirt, cool palms pressing against his bare skin like they belong there. 
"you’re such a grump," you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled but clearly teasing. "but you’re my grump." 
he rolls his eyes, exasperated. but his arms tighten around you anyway. 
"don’t push your luck," he mutters. 
but he makes no effort to let you go. 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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7ndipity · 1 year ago
Text
Every Little Thing
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.
Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)
Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread
A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?
Masterlist
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As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.
Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.
As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.
“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.
“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.
“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.
“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”
You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?
“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”
Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”
“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”
You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.
Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.
“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.
No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.
“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”
“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.
You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?
Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.
You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.
Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…
Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.
It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.
So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?
You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.
‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.
Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.
‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.
For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.
One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.
“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.
“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.
Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.
“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.
“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.
You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.
It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.
Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.
Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.
“It’s Yoongi.”
You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.
Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.
Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.
“What are you doing here?” You asked.
“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.
“I-, I haven’t-”
“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.
Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.
“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.
He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”
“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”
“You haven’t been-”
“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”
“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.
You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”
“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.
“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”
“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!
“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”
He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.
“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”
You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.
“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.
You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.
“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.
“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”
“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.
“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.
“You wanna try again?” You offered.
He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”
You nodded. “If you want to.”
He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.
“I love you, Y/n.”
He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.
When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.
“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.
“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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ruesol · 3 months ago
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Can I make a request for a pregnant y/n? Like jjk men and y/n get to the hospital when she goes into labor and they’re only expecting one baby but she ends up having twins? I’d love to know their reactions 😭🩷
Girl, realistically, I don’t think that’s possible with ultrasounds and stuff.
BUT, for the sake of the fic, let’s just say that you’re in a time period where ultrasounds don’t exist and physicians rely on taking your pulse or something to see if you’re pregnant or not.
cw: pregnancy, small descriptions of birth
Nanami is always a level headed and cool man. So when you popped out two kids instead of one, he had the most calm expression ever, only stroking your cheek and cooing in your ears about how well you did. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying his best not to rip his own hair out. The house was only ready for one baby—one nursery, one nanny, one chest of clothes. Now he was going to have work just as hard to set up the same for another baby in a very short time. You don’t notice his hand trembling when the midwife tells him that there’s another kid in the equation, his main focus would probably be on making sure you’re feeling better considering that you’re in the most overwhelming phase of being a new mom. All in all, I think he’d be very scared, but he’d face this change head on and would try his best to be a good dad to both his kids (all while freaking out on the inside.)
Gojo would be elated! Double the trouble. While you’re in pain, moaning and crying while pushing out the afterbirth, Gojo is already giggling over his new children, both annoyingly being the spitting images of their father. The nurse would probably yell at him to settle down because he’s being a nuisance and send him out for being annoying, not gonna lie. But who can blame him? He’s just so excited to take both his babies home and shower them with all the love and attention in the world. There’s no doubt that you’re nervous and scared after birthing twins, you aren’t even sure how you’ll nurse them or give them attention at the same time, and seeing this, Gojo vows to make your life easier with the babies. The nannies would often complain that Gojo leaves them no work because he’s always enthusiastic to look after his little ones.
Out of all the JJK men, I think Toji would have the worst reaction. He would be freaking the fuck out and would not be shy about it. He’d be clutching on to your hand to prevent himself from fainting after the midwife yells that there’s another one coming. It’s not that he exhibits weaponized incompetency, he’s just genuinely scared of messing up twice the amount now. He’d definitely be insecure throughout the first month though, wondering if he’s even blessed enough to deserve two little angels and a lovely wife. But that doesn’t stop him from trying his best. He makes a LOT of mistakes, but he’s always ready to learn, albeit, he’s a sloppy student, but he tries and that’s what matters. The kids also say dad first so he feels like he did something right after all.
Geto is a certified twin dad. It was on his resume when he started dating you. He is not scared, and is in dad mode the second you both find that you’re carrying. So imagine his delight when there’s two babies instead of one in the cradle, both looking like they’re the most precious things on Earth. Very overprotective, especially two times as much since his babies are so beautiful, he would not let anyone in a three feet radius of his children during the first month and it took a lot of convincing to let him loose and decrease the requirement to two feet. They’re the apples of his eye and so are you. He’s surprisingly good at dividing his attention well so nobody feels excluded. He made you feel safe and secure since the beginning, constantly reassuring you that raising twins is light work. You wouldn’t know if you’d still have your sanity if he was not the father of your children.
Sukuna makes you want to smack his face while giving birth. While you’re there, having the most uncomfortable and painful time, Sukuna is laughing to himself while holding both his babies to his chest, all four arms supporting them. He begins to yell about how he has two heirs now and the midwife smacks the back of his head so he’ll quiet down. Too bad he can’t kill her because she helped deliver his tiny demons. He had already started imagining what he’d teach the kid when he found out that you were pregnant, but now that there’s two kids there’s going to be twice the fun. He imagines teaching both his kiddos how to fight, maybe if they have too much energy and are annoying him then he’ll make them spar with each other. He laughs to himself menacingly and you try not to worry about what the man is planning. He also does not clean dirty diapers and does not make you do any of that either. Will probably force you away from the kids if he has to because the poor servants can handle it. He just wants to you to remember the fun parts of parenthood.
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fandoms-x-reader · 3 months ago
Text
Apologize
Requested Anonymously
Headcannons
Summary: The brothers say something too harsh to MC so MC refuses to talk to them or interact with them. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 8,242
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It wasn’t unusual for Lucifer to get snappy with others.
He was constantly overworked and over exhausted and his brothers liked to cause as much trouble for him as possible.
But, no matter how tired he was, Lucifer always did his best to keep his composure around you.
He had been working really hard on a specific project for Lord Diavolo recently and you could see how tired he was.
You made frequent trips to his study, bringing him his favorite drink and massaging his shoulders whenever you could to try to help.
But, now Lucifer was barely able to keep his eyes open anymore and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.
You carefully approached him and gently rubbed his arm, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even look up from his papers.
“Lucifer, I think you should take a break,” you told him honestly.
“I don’t have time for that Y/N,” he replied, continuing to work.
“At least for a little bit? A break would do you some good,” you tried again, and he let out an irritated sigh.
“I already told you, I don’t have time for that,” he reiterated, more annoyed this time. 
But, you were really worried about him, so you didn���t want to give up so easily.
“Lucifer,” you began again and he slammed his hand down on his desk making you let out a small gasp.
“What I’m doing is important and I need to concentrate, so if you’re just going to keep pestering me then just leave because, at this point, all you are is a nuisance,” he stated coldly.
You looked at him for a moment, feeling the sting of his words but not knowing how to react. He didn’t even care enough to see that his words had hurt you.
“Fine,” you muttered before getting up and leaving his study.
 Lucifer was really in the thick of it with work so he didn’t even realize the words that he had said and how they must have hurt you until later.
He was still in his study and he sat back in his chair, rolling shoulders as he let out a small groan of pain. They were sore from spending so much time in the same position. Usually, you would try and massage them to help prevent them from getting to this point.
He then looked down at his teacup and noticed that it was completely empty and had been for a while. But, you always made sure to bring him his favorite drink so that he could continue to work.
That’s when Lucifer began thinking back to the last time he saw you enter his study and what happened the last time. 
He let out a deep sigh as he replayed the words he had said to you in his head. Surely, you knew that he didn’t mean them, right? He loved you and you had to know that.
He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to you but he had to keep working. It was his responsibility.
Meanwhile, you avoided Lucifer’s study at all costs. You were just trying to help Lucifer and if he couldn’t see that then you didn’t have anything else to say to him.
Lucifer only lasted one day without seeing you when he started to grow concerned. He tried sending you a couple of text messages, not wanting to leave his study, but he was met with crickets and he couldn’t stand it any longer.
He had reached a point in the project where, perhaps, he could take a small break and he immediately went to your bedroom, knocking on your door.
There was no answer and while he was tempted to break it down to make sure you weren’t in there ignoring him, he kept his composure.
You had just come back from the kitchen, a drink in hand when you saw Lucifer standing in front of your bedroom door.
You stopped in your tracks as the two of you made eye contact and you took in his appearance.
He looked even more miserable than he did the last time you saw him.
Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just staring at each other.
After another moment, you spun on your heels, trying to retreat back to the kitchen.
Lucifer was in front of you in an instant, inches away from you and the close proximity itself was enough to start revitalizing him.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his deep voice wanting to make you swoon after not hearing it for an entire day. But, you stood your ground.
“Why shouldn’t I be? Since I’m just a nuisance to you and all,” you replied, your eyes filled with noticeable seriousness and hurt.
It took a lot to make Lucifer falter, but when you threw his words to you back at him, he nearly winced as if you slapped him.
He took a step closer to you before telling you, “You know that I don’t really think that.”
You let out a small sigh as you looked down to the ground and Lucifer realized that maybe he had really messed up this time. Maybe you really didn’t know how he truly felt about you. 
He gently raised your chin with one of his gloved hands so that you were looking at him before gently pressing his lips on yours in an intimate kiss.
When he pulled away, his eyes locked with you as he told you, “You could never be a nuisance to me, because I love you.”
And those were the words you were waiting to hear - the ones that always made you swoon even if you were mad at him.
“Please, come back and join me in my study,” he asked, his hand dropping down to interlace his fingers with yours.
Under his intense gaze, you couldn’t help but feel your resolve cracking as you allowed him to lead you to his study.
Once there, you told Lucifer, “You still have some making up to do.” Lucifer smirked slightly at your words before sitting down on his chair and pulling you into his lap.
You nearly spilled your drink at his actions and his smirk only grew. “I still have some work to do, but this way, I can pay attention to you as well,” he told you, one arm wrapping around you to keep you in place while the other continued to write on the document in front of him.
You opened your mouth to reply, but Lucifer continued to speak before you could, his lips inches from your ear as he told you, “Then, when I’m done with this, you can have my full attention.”
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Mammon had just completed a long photoshoot for a magazine that wanted him to be his model.
It was a lot of work, but the paycheck was worth it and he already knew what he wanted to do with it. Take you on a date!
Mammon was so excited to take you out that you couldn’t help but say yes.
He was always in a good mood whenever he came into money, no matter how that may be, but it was even better when he got to spend time with you because of it.
He had a whole plan to take you to a traveling carnival that was passing through the Devildom and the two of you left almost immediately.
The carnival was a lot bigger than you were expecting, filled with rides, food stalls, thrill acts and so much more.
You had been enjoying your time with Mammon there and it was one of the rare times that you got to see him drop his act and just be himself around you without the worry of one of his brothers being around.
He was even holding your hand the entire time, a small blush coating his cheeks as he tried to play the action off like it was no big deal.
After going on one of the more thrilling rides, the two of you decided to take a break and you sat down on a nearby bench as you watched one of the acts that was performing.
Your head rested against Mammon’s shoulder and this thumb traced circles on the back of your hand.
Suddenly, a random demon appeared sitting right next to Mammon and looking at the two of you. 
You raised your head to pay attention, confused as to what he wanted and the demon leaned in closer, talking in a quiet voice. Mammon was about to tell him to get lost when the demon spoke. 
“You’re Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, right?” the demon asked with hope in his eyes.
You and Mammon shared a look, questioning how this demon knew Mammon and that was all the confirmation he needed.
“I knew it!” he said with a smile before adding, “Please, sir, follow me and I’ll lead you to the undercover casino.”
Mammon’s eyes widened at his words. “Undercover casino?” Mammon asked. He didn’t know there would be one at this carnival.
“Yes, you’re one of our best patrons. If you come with me, we can treat you to the full service,” the demon replied and you could practically see Mammon’s eyes light up with gold.
“Mammon, I don’t think we should-,” you tried to say but you were cut off by him jumping up, a large smile on his face.
“Lead the way!” Mammon said and the demon lit up as he began showing the two of you the way.
“Mammon, I think this is a bad idea,” you told him and he gave your hand a small squeeze.
“Don’t worry! We’ll only stay for a few minutes,” he replied, and you let out a small sigh. It was never a few minutes.
And you were right, just like you knew you would be. The two of you were there for at least an hour as Mammon’s train of thought was completely taken over by his greed.
“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want to keep playing, you’ll have to put up more money,” the dealer stated and Mammon searched his wallet for more. Empty. 
“Y/N, loan me some money, will ya’?” Mammon asked and you could feel yourself start to get annoyed. 
“Mammon, you already lost all of the money you earned from that job. Let’s just call it a night,” you tried to reason with him, but his lips turned into a frown.
“C’mon, don’t be such a killjoy. I’m gonna win big this time, I know it!” Mammon tried to convince you, but you were done with the casino.
“Mammon, we should go home,” you stated more firmly.
“I spent the whole night doin’ what you wanted, so the least you could do is spend some time doin’ what I want!” Mammon argued.
His words cut you, but you tried to gain control of the situation. “Mammon-,” you tried once again but he cut you off with a loud groan of frustration.
“If I wanted someone to ruin my fun then I would have taken Lucifer,” Mammon stated before muttering, “Jeez, I don’t even know why I took ya’ out in the first place.”
Your heart dropped at his words as you felt tears sting your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him see them fall. Fine.
You searched through your things to find your money and handed it to Mammon who had a large smile on his face at the sight of it. “Bet as much as you want. I’m going home,” you stated before walking away and back to the House of Lamentation.
Just as you knew, once again, Mammon lost all of the money you had given him and now he had nothing left.
He looked around the casino for you and when he couldn’t find you, he started calling you and texting you. Did you really leave?
As the money-hungry fog started to lift from his mind, Mammon was able to start thinking clearly and he realized just how badly he had messed up. 
He continued to try to call you as he made his way back to the House of Lamentation, but you refused to answer his calls.
When he got to the house, he immediately went to your room and knocked on your bedroom door, but he was met with more silence.
He tried to get you to open the door the entire night but when he realized you weren’t going to, he sulked back to his room. How was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him?
Your silent treatment continued for the next few days. You wouldn’t talk to him at RAD and you would lock him out of your room before he had a chance to talk to you back at the House of Lamentation.
Mammon was growing more and more depressed about it too. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.
You had purposefully been only leaving your room at times when you thought Mammon would be out of the house or asleep.
It was too painful to see after the things he said to you when you were just trying to keep him from getting further into debt.
It was a little after midnight when you decided to go to the kitchen to get some food. You managed to make it to the fridge with no problem, but right as you grabbed the item you wanted, Mammon suddenly entered.
The two of you looked at each other in shock, neither one of you expecting the other to be there.
You wanted nothing more than to go back to your room, but he was blocking the exit.
“Uh…hi,” Mammon said, looking down at the ground. He was nervous and under any other circumstance, you would feel a little bad for him.
He didn’t say anything else, so you decided to try to push past him to get back to your room.
But as you passed him, Mammon gently grabbed your arm. “Wait,” he said, finally bringing himself to look at you and you paused to listen to what he had to say.
He was bad at speeches so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I miss ya’.”
And his puppy dog eyes and those words that sounded so sad were enough to almost make you cave. Almost.
Mammon could tell it wasn’t enough so he continued to say, “I’m sorry about what I said. You’re the only one I want to go out with and I don’t know why ya’ even agreed to go out with me,” he told you honestly and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, shattering the walls that you had put up.
You gently reached up and cupped his cheek with one of your hands and he immediately leaned into your touch. 
You pulled away after a moment and began walking to your room, leaving a very confused Mammon standing there.
You turned back to face him when you realized he wasn’t following you and you motioned towards your room before asking, “Are you coming?”
He got a big smile at your words and he nodded his head, letting you lead him to your room.
As soon as you shut the door, Mammon engulfed you in his arms, pulling you onto the bed and refusing to let go.
You let yourself melt in his embrace before telling him, “No more gambling on dates.”
He gently pressed his lips to yours before replying, “Promise.”
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There were a few things that Levi was uptight about and those things usually had something to do with either his anime, manga, or videogames.
Other than those things, Levi was usually pretty nonchalant. He didn’t care what others did or didn’t do and he didn’t complain if they didn’t spend time with him.
He just usually did his own thing and you admired him for that.
It didn’t take long for you and Levi to start hanging out, common interests bringing the two of you together.
And Levi soon found that he was going against all of his beliefs as a shut-in. He was starting to actually care about what others did. Well, about what one person did in particular.
Things that Levi used to love to do by himself didn’t seem as fun when you weren’t around, so he tried to invite you over as much as he possibly could.
You didn’t mind at all because Levi usually invited you to do something you liked doing anyway.
Levi never had someone that liked the same things he liked as much as you did, which is probably what added to his infatuation of spending time with you.
And it was like a secret that only the two of you shared, or a language that only the two of you knew how to speak.
Or, that’s how Levi thought of it until he caught you and Solomon talking at RAD.
You had mentioned one of your and Levi’s favorite games to Solomon and he had, surprisingly, known about it.
So the two of you started talking about all your favorite characters and mechanics of the game. 
In your defense, it was a completely innocent conversation between friends, but Levi didn’t see it that way.
What he saw is the way you smiled at Solomon as he spoke, in a way that Levi only wanted you to look at him.
And what he heard was the way you sweetly laughed at Solomon’s jokes, with a laugh that was supposed to be reserved for his ears.
And then, you invited Solomon to come over to the House of Lamentation and play the game with you and Levi.
His sin had taken over him faster than he could process what was happening and he stood in between you and Solomon in his demon form, a very unhappy look on his place.
“Levi? Are you okay?” you asked him, worried when you saw the form he was in.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, sending a glance to Solomon.
“We were just talking,” you replied, confused as to what he was getting at.
“You invited him to play our game!” Levi snapped back and you and Solomon shared a look as you realized why he might be upset.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you replied honestly. Solomon and Levi were friends and Solomon had come over lots of time to play games with Levi, so why should this time be any different?
But your words seemed to only set Levi off more as his insecurities got the better of him.
“Well, it might not seem like a big deal to you but it’s a big deal to me,” he replied and you could hear the hurt in his voice. The conversation was spiraling and you didn’t know how to stop it.
“Levi, I didn’t mean anything by that,” you tried to reason but he was too far in his head down.
“This is what I get I guess,” he stated and you looked at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned. 
“It means I never should have tried to be friends with some lame normie who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves,” Levi snapped back and this time it was your turn to be hurt.
“Let’s all calm down,” Solomon interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation and Levi’s demon form caught the attention of Lucifer. Levi knew furthering the fight would only get him involved, so he backed down.
“Whatever,” Levi muttered before walking away and Solomon turned to you. 
“Are you okay?” Solomon asked you and you replied with a short, “I’m fine.”
You went back to the House of Lamentation with the full intention of avoiding Levi and giving him the silent treatment, which was all too easy to do because he didn’t leave his room after the fight.
You were both getting more and more miserable as you spent time apart, but Levi was upset because he thought you liked Solomon and you were upset because of what he said to you so neither of you were ready to apologize.
After about a week of the two of you not speaking, it was starting to affect everyone else as well.
Solomon decided to do something about it since he was technically involved.
He came to Levi’s room, fully expecting Levi to not answer the door; but, he had.
Truth be told, Levi had only opened it in the hopes that you would be on the other side but he was largely disappointed when he saw Solomon standing there.
“What are you doing here?” Levi asked and Solomon gave him an innocent smile.
“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” Solomon replied. 
“About what?” Levi asked and Solomon’s expression turned to a serious one.
“About Y/N,” he replied and at the mention of your name, a blush rose to Levi’s cheeks.
“I don’t want to talk about them,” Levi replied, attempting to shut the door to his room but Solomon stopped him.
“Please, just listen,” Solomon said and Levi, having no choice, let him continue.
“The only reason that Y/N and I were talking about the game was because they were telling me how much they’ve been enjoying playing it with you,” Solomon told Levi. 
“So?” Levi asked and Solomon wanted to roll his eyes at the oblivious demon.
“They were telling me about how much they’ve been enjoying spending time with you,” Solomon tried to further clarify.
Something clicked in Levi’s mind this time and his cheeks burned a furious red as he understood what Solomon was trying to say. 
He quickly slammed the door on Solomon’s face to process the new information on his own and then he felt like a total idiot for snapping at you.
It only took him a few more minutes to show up at your door, nervously knocking on it. 
You opened it a few moments later and Levi saw his own miserableness reflected on you. 
“I…I know I messed everything up a-and you’ll probably never forgive me. But, I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you wanted to play some games,” Levi said practically in one breath before he could chicken out of it. 
He held your favorite game in his hands along with some snacks, hoping that you would let him in.
“Why would you want to spend time with a lame normie like me?” you asked and Levi winced at your words. He deserved that.
He let out a defeated sigh, casting his gaze down at the floor before telling you, “Because I don’t think you're lame. You’re the most amazing person I know. But, if you don’t want to play that’s fine, I’ll just leave you alone.”
His dejected look pulled at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but stop him by gently grabbing his arms.
He looked back at you with hopeful eyes and you told him, “Maybe we can play for a little bit.”
Levi immediately rushed into your room, a bright smile on his face that was contagious as he set everything up.
This was only the beginning of his apology and he was going to make sure he made up for what he said.
And maybe, just maybe, along with an apology he could also confess his feelings for you.
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Out of all the demon brothers, Satan was the best at holding a grudge.
After all, he had been holding once against Lucifer for his entire life. 
Satan was a classy demon but he was equally stubborn and if he didn’t want to back down from a fight, there was no making him do so.
So, when the two of you got into a fight, you knew that it was going to be one with lasting consequences.
Satan had invited you on a day trip that involved a long train ride both to and from the destination. 
He didn’t want you to be bored so he offered to lend you one of his books.
Everything was going so perfectly and it was a very romantic outing filled with sweet nothings and intimate moments.
But, then the time to go back home came and that’s when it all started falling apart.
You were frantically trying to search your bag for the book that Satan had lent you while you waited for the train to arrive, but you couldn’t find it anywhere.
 Satan noticed your frantic movements beside him and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. 
“What are you looking for?” he asked you as you continued to search.
“Your book,” you replied, and the content expression that was on his face moments before dropped as he felt a flicker of anger inside of him.
“The book I let you borrow?” Satan asked as you closed your bag with a frustrated sigh.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Satan, I must have left it on the train when we got off it,” you told him, a contrite expression on your face. You felt awful.
“How could you be so careless?” Satan asked and you were taken aback by his words.
“I didn’t mean to,” you argued but Satan’s wrath was only growing further and once he went down this road, it was almost impossible to stop.
“That was one of my favorite books! I only let you borrow it as a gesture of kindness,” he stated.
“Satan, I told you I was sorry. I’ll buy you another copy when we get back,” you responded.
“It won’t be the same,” he snapped back, refusing to look at you now.
“I think you’re overreacting,” you replied and you knew those words were a mistake because if he wasn’t angry before, that definitely set him off.
The two of you engaged in a very heated exchange as others looked on and the only thing that stopped you was the arrival of the train.
You and Satan refused to talk to each other the whole way back and you sat in anger and embarrassment for causing such a big scene.
You immediately went to your separate rooms as soon as you got back to the House of Lamentation and you were left to wonder how such a simple thing could ruin not only the way back but the entire trip when the two of you had been so happy together moments before that.
Satan could admit to himself that he may have overreacted a bit, but admitting it to you was a completely different story. And, you believed that you already apologized so what else was there to say?
Which left the two of you at an impasse. You wouldn’t speak to each other or even look at each other despite the ache you had for each other.
The others had heard about what happened and tried to get the two of you to talk. After all, they all agreed that you were fighting over something trivial, but neither you nor Satan gave in.
It wasn’t until the two of you got stuck in a situation a couple of weeks later that he realized how stupid the argument was.
Satan was reading in the library at the House of Lamentation and you walked in to grab your own book, not expecting him to be there.
As soon as you saw him, you averted your gaze, focusing on finding the book you were looking for.
Satan kept occasionally glancing at you while you searched, but he didn’t say anything.
Finally, you found the book you were looking for, but it was in a stack of books on top of one of the bookshelves.
You were struggling to reach it and could use some help. Specifically from a demon who was already there.
Satan kept his eyes on his book, a smug smile threatening to form as he knew you needed help and would have to talk to him to ask him for it.
But, you refused to give him the satisfaction, so you tried to grasp it yourself, causing them all to tumble.
You let out a gasp of pain as they fell on top of you, one of the larger ones hitting you in the head and knocking you out.
Satan was on his feet the instant he saw what happened and he quickly approached you with worry in his eyes.
You had a small cut on your forehead that was bleeding and when he saw that you were knocked out, the guilt instantly flooded him. He should’ve just helped you.
He carried you to his bedroom and treated the small cut on your forehead before sitting next to you, watching you sleep.
He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for a fact that you were okay.
A little while later, you began to stir and when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with concerned, green ones.
“How are you feeling?” he asked you immediately and you slowly began to remember what happened. 
“My head hurts,” you admitted and he nodded his head, handing you some pain medicine.
You took it gratefully and as it fell silent, you realized Satan had just talked to you.
Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him again. He must have known what you were thinking because he let out a small sigh before climbing into the bed with you and pulling you into him.
You moved your head back just a bit so that you could look at him.
“I’m sorry for overreacting and for calling you careless,” he told you as he lovingly looked into your eyes, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before leaving his fingers tangled in it.
“I’m sorry for losing your book,” you replied, savoring every moment of the touch you had craved.
“I can always get another copy,” he reassured you, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you, “You’re what I’m afraid of losing more than anything. I can’t ever get another copy of you and I wouldn’t want it.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Satan smiled at you before pulling you onto his chest so that he could hold you.  
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Asmo was quick and witty when he wanted to be.
His greatest fighting tactic was his words and everyone knew that.
He could be mean to those who deserved it - but you would never deserve it.
You would never be on the opposite end of Asmo’s repartee because he simply loved you too much.
So, when Asmo said something to you that had crossed the line, he didn’t even realize it until after he said the words.
You had been having a particularly rough day and you sought Asmo out for some comfort.
He immediately suggested that the two of you have a spa day. It was the perfect way to relax!
Of course, Asmo was already fully prepared for a last-minute spa day.
He told you to just sit back and relax while he got everything ready. He knew that you would need extra pampering that day so he wanted to give you the full treatment.
And Asmo was the best at pampering you - but because of the rough day you had, you were on edge.
While doing different things, Asmo would make small comments about how you could improve certain aspects of your hair and skin routine.
Things like - your hair feels a little dry, you should try using a better conditioner. Or, your skin’s starting to look wrinkly, you need to start a better skincare routine.
To him, these comments were all coming from a place of love. He was just trying to give you advice since he had tried almost every beauty product known to the world.
But with you already being frustrated, the comments started to sound more like nagging; and, they began making you feel a bit self-conscious.
Wanting to avoid an argument, you suggested stopping the spa for now, but when Asmo kept pressing you for the reason, you snapped slightly. 
The small argument quickly blew up into a bigger one and Asmo resorted to using his quick wit as a defense mechanism.
By the end of it, you had both said things you didn’t mean and you had left his room quickly, seeking solidarity in your own.
Asmo was the biggest attention seeker in the entire house, so he doesn’t take being ignored or avoided by anyone very well.
But he especially doesn’t take it well when it’s coming from you - the person he loves the most.
The day after the two of you fought, he expected you to be mad, but he had already prepared an apology for that.
The thing about Asmo is that he’s not afraid to apologize for something he did if he feels like he was in the wrong, unlike some of the other brothers.
Besides, the sooner he apologized, the sooner the two of you could make up. And that was his favorite part of any argument.
But, with you not speaking to him and avoiding him at all costs, how was he supposed to apologize?
Asmo only lasted one day of you ignoring him before he was at your door, tears in his eyes begging you to talk to him.
He was very dramatic with his begging, but with how dramatic Asmo usually was, it was par for the course.
If you let him in, he’ll immediately hug you, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he rests his head in the crook of your neck, crying as he apologizes as many times as it takes for you to forgive him.
He didn’t mean to say those things - he would never hurt you on purpose. It was just in the heat of the moment. He’s a very passionate guy after all.
Those are things he’ll tell you, his lips brushing against your skin as he says it, his hands sliding down just a little past what would be considered proper.
All things he knew would chip away at your walls.
He knew everything about you, especially when it came to things you liked. Things that made you cave no matter the situation.
Your resolve was shaky now and Asmo knew it, gently placing kisses on your neck and you subconsciously leaned into his touch, ever so slightly exposing more of your skin to him.
“Asmo,” you warned as he continued his kisses. You wanted to be mad at him, and you wanted to sound mad. But, your walls were crumbling under his touch and when his name left your lips, it was filled with love instead of anger.
A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he heard his name and he looked into your eyes, his eyes drawing you in even more.
“You’ll forgive me, won’t you Y/N?” he asked innocently - far too innocently for the thoughts currently running through his mind.
His lips were inches from yours and you let out a small sigh before closing the gap between the two of you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. 
You supposed you could let him off with a warning this time. After all, you were the one who snapped first.
Asmo wouldn’t hold it against you though. All that mattered was that the two of you made up.
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Beel was absolutely panicking when he realized that you weren’t speaking to him and were avoiding him at all costs.
Mostly because he had no idea what he had done wrong and since you weren’t talking to him, he couldn’t even ask you.
It must have been something bad given the silent treatment. But, he couldn’t even think of something small he might have done - let alone something big enough for you to give him the silent treatment.
He thought about the last time the two of you interacted.
You were in his room with him, and he had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.
Your head was pressed against his chest as he held you close, a peaceful smile resting on his face.
He felt content and slowly but surely drifted off. 
The next thing he knew, you had moved off him in a rush, exiting his bedroom before he could get a word out and you had been avoiding him ever since.
But, you had a very different recollection of what had happened.
You were cuddling against Beel as previously stated, and you were feeling content as well. Everything just felt right when you were in his arms.
But, only a few minutes into cuddling Beel told you, “I don’t know why we’re still doing this.”
Your eyes immediately snapped open as you tried to process what Beel had just said.
“What?” you asked softly.
His hand was tangled in your hair, holding your head in place, so you couldn’t look up at him to see if he was being serious or not.
“I think this pointless,” he murmured again and your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t really mean that, right?
“Beel,” you tried to say, but you were cut off by him continuing to speak.
“I think you should go,” he added and you decided to listen to him, pushing yourself off of him and going to your room, locking the door.
You hated that he could hold you so lovingly while he simultaneously broke up with you.
Seeing him was painful so you avoided him at all costs and you didn’t want to hear any excuse he might have so you refused to speak to him.
Beel had been doing everything he could to get your attention, but he failed at every attempt.
The lack of your presence had taken a toll on him. He had been feeling sad and lonely and he missed you more than anything.
Not to mention, he had seen you looking upset and he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why you were sad because he hated seeing it.
He would do anything to make you happy, he just wished you would let him help. Whatever it was - he could fix it.
He only lasted a couple of weeks without you before he decided he had to do something.
So one day when you had just gotten home from RAD, he picked you up and carried you to his room, shutting the door and blocking it with his body, despite your many protests.
He knew that his strength overpowered yours so you wouldn’t be able to push past him.
You could use the pact against him to get him to move, but he was hoping you wouldn’t resort to that - he just wanted to talk.
When you realized that Beel had you trapped you let out a sigh, sitting down on his bed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.
“What do you want, Beel?” you asked him, looking anywhere but him. And the way you said his name angrily instead of the affectionate way you used to say it hurt.
But just hearing your voice, even if you sounded mad, was like a breath of fresh air.
He moved closer to you, his big puppy dog eyes, staring at you with so much love as he tried to figure out what to say.
“You seem sad,” he told you, carefully sitting down on the bed next to you and you let out a scoff.
“Of course I’m sad,” you replied and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.
“Why?” he asked innocently and you looked at him incredulously.
When he saw the look you were giving him, he asked, “Did I do something? Is that why you won’t talk to me?”
And now your eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he wasn’t making any sense.
“You broke up with me,” you stated simply and his eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief. He would never.
Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you decided to recount the details of that day, telling him everything he said to you.
And his expression went from one of confusion to understanding as he realized what had happened.
Beel had a dream after he fell asleep cuddling you. The usual suspect - Mammon - was trying to get Beel to do something he didn’t want to do. He remembered saying all of those things to his brother in his dream - but he didn’t have any recollection of saying them out loud.
“What?” you asked as he finished talking. He was asleep?! 
A small blush coated your cheeks as you realized that you never looked at him. He kept you in place at first and then you were so upset that you walked out without sparing another glance towards him.
Beel pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did that day, holding you close to him.
“I love you so much. I would never break up with you,” he told you quietly, hoping that you would accept what he was saying as the truth.
You immediately melted into his touch as you realized it was all a big misunderstanding and your skin felt hot wherever his met yours.
Beel let out a deep breath of relief when you began to relax and he was determined to never let you go again.
The last couple of weeks had been hard on both of you and if nothing else, it was only proof as to how much you loved each other.
He just hoped that his dreams never interfered with your relationship again.
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Like Satan, Belphie is one of the most stubborn when it comes to apologizing or admitting he was wrong about something.
He handles issues with the silent treatment in the hopes that they’ll either resolve themselves or simply go away.
He’s never been one for taking the initiative and he’s even less motivated to do so when it comes to an argument.
The two of you had been bickering more than usual thanks to the eldest brother.
Belphie had been slacking off a little too much at RAD in favor of napping and it was starting to affect Lucifer.
He had tried to ask Beel to help his twin brother keep up with his studies, but there was only so much that he could do.
If Belphie didn’t want to do something, then, simply put, he wasn’t going to do it - no matter who Lucifer sicced on him.
But, still, Lucifer asked you to try since you had a bond that was both very different yet equally as important as Beel’s bond to Belphie.
You didn’t want to do it - plain and simple. You knew that it would put you in a hard place with Belphie.
But, as the human exchange student, you couldn’t help but feel like part of your responsibility was to help the demon brothers.
And whether Belphie believed it or not, you were just trying to help him. You knew that if he didn’t get caught up with his studies, the punishment from Lucifer would be much worse than your nagging.
But, after a few days' worth of you waking Belphie up to beg him to do his homework, both of you were getting fed up with it.
Belphie kept complaining about how you sounded like Lucifer and you kept telling him he was acting like a brat.
It didn’t get much further than that though until one night when Belphie decided to be particularly stubborn.
You came into his room just like you had been doing, but it didn’t matter what you did, Belphie refused to get up.
You tried to reason with him, you tried to remind him of what Lucifer would do if he didn’t get up, you even tried to bribe him, but nothing worked.
You sat next to the bed for a while as you tried to figure out your last step, and then an idea popped into your head.
You hated it because you knew that Belphie would hate it, but he left you no choice.
After preparing yourself and running through your plan multiple times, you got up and looked at Belphie who was sleeping peacefully.
You let out a small sigh before leaning closer and grabbing his favorite pillow that he was lying on as well as his favorite blanket.
In an instant, you had snatched them and ran off with them, seeking refuge in your room.
You had barely gotten your door locked when you heard Belphie trying to get into your room.
“Y/N, open the door,” Belphie said, as calmly as he could, but he was already mad.
“You need to do your homework, Belphie,” you replied.
“Just give me my blanket and pillow back,” he responded.
“After you finish your homework,” you reiterated, internally sighing at the situation. You didn’t want to act like his parent and you silently cursed Lucifer for asking you to do this in the first place.
“Ugh, you’re being so annoying!” Belphie snapped, but you were expecting some backlash about this situation.
“You’ll be thanking me later when you don’t have to deal with Lucifer,” you stated and you heard him let out another frustrated sigh.
“This is exactly why I hate humans,” Belphie stated, more to himself than anything, but you heard it loud and clear.
His eyes widened slightly when you opened the door to your bedroom, a look of hurt on your face.
He opened his mouth to take it back but he was cut off by you roughly shoving the blanket and pillow into him before slamming the door in his face and locking it again.
Belphie knew that he went too far so he decided to give you some time to cool off.
The next time he saw you he promised himself he would make it up to you.
But when he saw you next, you refused to look at Belphie, let alone talk to him. And that made Belpie annoyed all over again.
“You’re being childish,” he told you, only furthering your anger towards him.
“Says the one who can’t even be responsible and do their homework without someone breathing down their neck!” you snapped back.
The two of you didn’t talk after that for a long time - too long in the brothers’ opinions.
They knew that you and Belphie were too stubborn to talk to each other on your accord, so they decided to take things into their own hands.
You were sitting on your bed reading when suddenly the door to your bedroom burst open.
You looked up to see Belphie being shoved inside against his will by Beel before he shut the door, making sure to stand guard so Belphie couldn’t leave.
Belphie had a small pout on his face that, despite still being mad at him, you thought looked adorable.
He let out a small sigh, avoiding all eye contact as he did his best to come up with a way to get out of this situation.
The two of you sat in silence for a while, but you both knew it was pointless. Neither of you were leaving until you talked to each other.
Belphie was the master at winning arguments, but just this once, he asked himself what the point of it was. He cared about you way more than winning the argument.
“You know I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but on you as he spoke.
Your eyes immediately went to him. Was that his version of an apology?
“I was only trying to help you, Belphie,” you explained and he gave you a defeated look.
“I know,” he replied. That’s why this whole argument is pointless.
Belphie moved over to your bed now and sat down next to you, the two of you making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever.
“I caught up on all my studies,” he added and you let out a breath of relief. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.
You were the first to reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. You stared at your intertwined fingers before softly saying, “I missed you.”
His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, all feelings of the fight disappearing. He was just happy to be in your presence again.
Belphie moved quickly, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you down into the bed.
“Bel-!” you shouted in surprise but you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips.
You were laying chest to chest, his face only inches from yours, his arms keeping you there.
“If they hear us talking, they’ll come in; and, I’d rather not be interrupted for a while,” Belphie told you with a sly smirk before placing his lips on yours.
You immediately returned the kiss, a smile forming at the feeling.
No matter what you or Belphie said in the heat of the moment, you knew that your love for each other would never change.
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daisynik7 · 2 years ago
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Nanami is so used to treasuring you, treating you delicately like the sweet, precious gem that you are. It catches him completely off guard when one night, after he vents about work, you ask for him to be very rough with you. “Take it out on me, honey. Be as rough as you like. I can take it.”
He’s speechless at first, taken aback by the unusual request in the middle of him undressing from his office attire. He doesn’t notice that his signature tie is coiled tightly around his fist, button-up undone, revealing his brawny figure beneath his fitted undershirt. He has no clue how sexy he is right now, veins bulging from his beefy fingers, brows furrowed in a scowl, still frustrated from today’s nuisance at work. It’s a different side of him you usually don’t see, and maybe that’s why you’re so intrigued by it. You want to test him, see how hard he can give it you. 
It takes a while for him to agree to it; he can’t imagine being even the slightest bit mean to his darling angel. But the further and further you badger him about it, tugging on his cuff, begging please, please, please, the more convinced he is to just do it. So, per your request, he pins your wrists together against your back, knotting his tie around them, locking you in a compromising position. You nestle your head into the pillow, knees digging into the mattress, ass sticking up, completely vulnerable. The anticipation already has your pussy fluttering. 
He lies beneath you, eating you out first, slurping and sucking on your clit until your cunt is wet with your first orgasm, sleek enough for him to enter you smoothly. He kneels behind you, teasing your entrance with his fingers, feeling how juicy you are for him. He hums, satisfied, guiding his cock slowly inside you until he bottoms outs, groin pressed firmly to your ass. His thrusts are slow at first, easing into it to allow you to adjust to his size. But when you provoke him with a Is that the best you got? I know you can do better than that, he doesn’t hold back any longer. He grabs your wrists, pinning your shoulders back while he pumps himself deep inside you, bullying your sweet spot until you’re flooded with his cum. “You like it rough, don’t you, sweetheart? You like having this sloppy cunt filled with my seed. I’m gonna keep giving it to you until I’m milked dry and there’s nothing left. Understand?”
You can only nod, gasping when he starts fucking you again, still just as hard inside you, drilling into you until he gives you a second and third creamy load, relishing your unabashed moans echoing off the bedroom walls. When he finally pulls out of you, he watches his cum leak out of you, dripping onto the sheets. You collapse onto the bed, arms sore from being stretched out, wrists raw from the grip of his tie, pussy ragged by his intense pummeling. And the biggest fucking smile on your face, already looking forward to the next time he has a bad day at work. 
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hayatheauthor · 1 month ago
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hello! i'm trying to write a manipulative/cunning character that uses his charm to get what he wants, but i'm unsure how to go about it without being too overt. he basically acts all polite and uses peoples' inherent biases (like how they are more likely to listen to or trust someone who's conventionally attractive)
i'm also struggling to come up with instances where he'd use those skills. surely he can't just walk up to somebody and say something out of nowhere haha
thank you for your time!
That’s such a fun character to write! For subtle manipulation, focus on how he frames things—he never demands, just suggests. He compliments before slipping in a request, or pretends to confide in someone to earn their trust.
Manipulation has three core tactics:
Mirroring – He subtly copies people's tone, body language, or opinions to build fast rapport. People feel more at ease when they see themselves in someone else.
Framing choices – He never gives direct orders. Instead, he offers two options—both benefiting him—but makes one seem like the “better” or more moral choice.
Playing the victim or the hero – Depending on what the situation calls for, he knows when to act vulnerable to gain sympathy, or when to seem competent and generous to earn loyalty.
As for scenes: think small but calculated moments—like offering help so he can later call in a favor, or using flattery to get into private conversations. His charm should feel effortless, like everything he does just naturally benefits him. Let people want to say yes to him, because why wouldn't they? He'd never do anything wrong!
Use foreshadowing and drop hints through your scenes too, like:
He helps a powerful person in public (small act, big praise), later using that goodwill to get access somewhere.
He praises someone’s intelligence just before suggesting a risky plan—making them feel clever for agreeing.
He eavesdrops, then later "guesses" something personal about someone to seem insightful and trustworthy.
Basically, his charm is a tool, not a mask—it’s always used with purpose.
One character that comes to mind for inspo is Tom Riddle. I wrote a Tom Riddle fanfic series for like 2 years and crafting scenes where everyone thinks he's perfect while internally he's looking down on all of them was so so fun! Some personal tips from that experience:
Have someone who knows the truth! The one person who doesn't fall for his charm no matter what he tries, make his eye twitch and smile strain as he tries to maintain the farce of perfection whenever this person calls him out in public.
Internal monologue. It's important to make sure your readers get that this guy doesn't actually like the random girl he flirted with to get access to the professor's records. Or that the group of friends that constantly swarm him are really just nuisances in his eyes.
Make things easy, but not too easy. Have people who easily fall for the physical charm, and others whose trust he gains by making them let their guard down. The sceptic trusts him because he's apparently part of the same tiny dog club as them, the girl who falls for no one feels her heart flutter by how 'real and kind' he was during the moment they 'accidentally' met outside school.
I hope this helps!
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tinyyoruichi · 1 year ago
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ?
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featuring : gn!reader + Zoro, Mihawk and Ace
warning : none
masterlist
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Roronoa Zoro
His heart suddenly beats more rapidly whenever he sees you smiling, laughing, or even doing the most random thing. On top of that, Sanji's overly complimentary remarks towards you make him want to reach for his swords. No, this can't be. He's stared death down a thousand times, cut through countless enemies. Yet, this new feeling blooming for you – it's terrifying.
Zoro coming to terms with his feelings for you? Buckle up, because it's going to be a hilarious journey. Denial will be his middle name for a while, trust me. This dense swordsman will be in for a wild ride before he finally connects the dots.
Thanks to Nami's interrogation skills (and a little sake), the whole crew knows Zoro has a thing for you. Now, expect endless teasing from Luffy and Usopp, who'll probably try to spill the beans before a certain mosshead gives them his best glare.
Zoro finally figuring out his feelings for you? Great! Now comes the real test: talking to you about them. Because let's be honest, under that tough-guy act, he is probably a nervous wreck, sweating bullets at the thought of rejection.
Zoro's not exactly the Romeo type. So expect a confession that's straightforward, maybe a bit awkward – but heartfelt nonetheless. If you feel the same, a weight will lift from his shoulders. But if not, he'll respect your decision and try to keep things smooth between you.
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Dracule Mihawk
Don't be fooled by Mihawk's stoic facade – because he is quite aware of his feelings for you. Years have honed his instincts, and unlike his pupil, he has no time (and he is too old) for childish denial. His emotions are clear, even if unspoken.
That man has a very calculating mind. He'll dissect every interaction, every glance, searching for a sign that you love him as mush as he loves you. Despite his solitary nature, his mind might already be constructing a future by your side – a future dependent on your response.
Mihawk is probably one of the few men in One Piece who are very romantic (Oda told me so). His brand of romance is subtle yet charming. Imagine leisurely strolls through his gardens or watching the sunset with a glass of wine by his side. A subtle offer of his arm, a hint of a blush from you – that might be all the encouragement he needs to take things a step further.
Once confident your feelings mirror his own, Mihawk will approach things in an (VERY) old-fashioned way. Be prepared for a carefully crafted dinner invitation, where he can formally request the honor of courting you. His pride lies in being a gentleman, and rushing into things is simply not his style. He prefers to court you slowly and respectfully, allowing your relationship to develop naturally.
After a series of thoughtful dates, Mihawk will finally take the next step and ask you to be his partner (Perona and Zoro might have placed a bet on the timeline, of course). Like everything he does, Mihawk will approach this new chapter with utmost seriousness. Your well-being will always be his top priority.
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Portgas D. Ace
Ace isn't the denial type. The ache when you're gone, the quiet competition with Marco and Izo for your laughter – these are the clues that tip him off. Ace falling for you? It's written all over his flustered face. He stutters and turns red like a tomato when speaking to you unexpectedly.
The entire crew is a nuisance and teases him constantly about his love for you. They have grilled him mercilessly – “When will you confess?” they ask, convinced you feel the same.
Denial ? Once again, not Ace's style. But baring his heart, admitting his love for you ? That's a terrifying vulnerability he fears more than anything. On top of that, I believe he is also afraid of losing your friendship by making things awkward if you don't feel the same about him.
Thankfully, Marco, ever the voice of reason, is there to guide this lovestruck dummy. And honestly, this old man is tired of watching you two pining from afar. A stern talk from Marco might be just what Ace needs to understand that silence could lead to a missed opportunity for a great relationship.
Ace's confession? A masterpiece in the making, at least in his head. Daily mirror pep talks and a meticulously planned romantic gesture – that's how he plans to declare his love. Just imagine the blushing, the stammering, the potential for minor explosions (caused by Ace's nervousness, of course).
Dinner over, Ace reaches for something hidden in his pocket. His nervousness is palpable, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he throws caution (and the letter) to the wind, ready to confess his true feelings directly from the heart.
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honey-milk-depresso · 1 year ago
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could i request stardust, licorice, and shadow milk cookie with a reader that's smaller than them?,, thank you,,,
Take note that Shadow Milk Cookie just appeared recently as a cutscene, so for him it might be a little OOC.
CRK with an s/o smaller than them
Stardust Cookie
I think there’s plenty of cookies smaller than him, but you make it even more so. Like you’re just tiny around him.
And then he floats??? Sometimes you have to puff up your cheeks a little to tell him how unfair he’s being right now to which he blushes slightly and chuckled quietly, slowly descending down on his two crispy feet again.
He likes how small you are, that he can wrap his cape around you and bring you into a hug from behind. He just has this urge to protect you from all the harms of the Galaxy. Literally.
Stardust likes to hug you often, your small size allowing him to do so easily and he feels like he can love you properly while you’re in this size. He genuinely thinks your short stature is adorable and what makes you beautiful in his eyes.
Overall, Stardust is a simp for you- <3
Licorice Cookie
Shorter than him you say? He has an above average height for a cookie, so there’s plenty of cookies shorter than him. But you make the greatest armrest for him.
He teased you incessantly to no end about your height, always putting stuff off the top shelf on purpose like the little shit he is so you would come running for his help to grab it for you, or pretending he can’t see you while you’re literally right next to him.
Although, the moment YOU get teased by someone else for being short, he’s after them with his Licorice servants coming after them and make them regret ever teasing you about your height! Only HE can do that (hypocrite-)!
Licorice is pretty protective of you since your so short, usually having at least one or two of his Licorice servants around to stay on guard for you, like your tiny chewy bodyguards.
That’s your protective, hypocritical cookie for you. <3
Shadow Milk Cookie
You thought Licorice was a nuisance in teasing you about your short height? Well Shadow Milk Cookie is a complete BASTARD, LITTLE SHIT OF THE CENTURY.
He will tease you relentlessly with every nickname related to your short stature: shortcake, shortbread, little muffin, mustard seed, he is a menace. Puts things on the high shelf WHILE you’re trying to reach for your things and his lanky and tall ass height makes you become his armrest tenfold.
But like Licorice, if anyone else teases your height… oh boy, oh boy will they get it. He will reign overly unnecessary chaos to them that you kinda have to stop him. This cookie has the audacity to then get all whiney and sulky about how that cookie was mean when he does the same thing, making him an even bigger hypocrite.
Overall, he’s the biggest hypocrite you’ve ever met but he’s your hypocrite. <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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