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dreamcatcher-ranger · 2 years

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Queued

This is a fictional story, I apologize because I didn't realize how the first paragraphs sounded without context. I am perfectly fine. Please reblog this version and enjoy!

Let me preface this by clarifying a thing. If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I'll queue this for tomorrow morning, and if nothing happens I'll take this down. If you're seeing this on your dash, it means I'm gone. If I can return... Idk, maybe I'll write a more detailed post with the answers to all of this, maybe y'all could just carry on like nothing happened. Maybe this post will not exist anymore and there is no need to tell you what I would do.

That being said, if I will have to say goodbye, the least I could do is doing it with style.

My name is Norman. All of you will already know me by my url, or maybe the pfp. "Look, it's trans Charizard again. What will he have to say this time". Mostly shitpost, alright? I didn't log in expecting to become a great artist. Sometimes, however, I liked to cut out a little scrap from my life and show it to you.

I started when my new life started. When I finally managed to get away from the horrible claws of my family and I settled in this little apartment. It was a small place, tucked away between the trees, where birds were more loud than traffic.

All things considered, it has been nice to get it without having to pluck out my eye to pay rent. It was crammed, yes, but at the time I didn't even have a bed. It was enough.

So, as my loyal followers may already know, life here was... peculiar.

It wasn't anything outright weird, more like little unsettling details, details on which the eye glided until they got caught, and once the eye caught them it couldn't let them go.

Typing them on here, in hindsight, makes me feel dumb, like if I was some horror movie dipshit that wouldn't move out of a clearly haunted house, trapped in his certainty that "GhOsTs ArEn'T rEaL" despite the furniture floating past him.

In my defense, my furniture didn't float. At least, I never saw it doing so.

There have been misplaced objects, though. A glass that got knocked over, a book I was sure I had put a bookmark in, my Waddles (yes, the Gravity Falls pig. Sue me) plushie popping up from the strangest places, like when I found it in the pantry, behind the pasta.

It was the least tbh.

Misplaced objects... they could be attributed to my ADHD. I came to terms with the fact that my things never seemed to stay where I put them when I was, like, six. After a while it sort of became a bit, in our family. So it wasn't exactly news. Even if Waddles in the pantry was a bit too much even for me. But hey, everyone lost track of their stuff sometimes, if they weren’t paying attention.

And, as I said before, it was the least. I mean, you saw my posts. At first I joked a bit about these teleportations, along the lines of "haha, look, my plushie loves pasta sooo much!". But, like, everyone who owns a cat knows that teleport is not impossible. "Yeah yeah, things that change places when they shouldn't, we've all seen it". Issues started coming after a few weeks.

At first, it was the golden leaves. I already said that my house was in the middle of the woods, right?

Well, it was around last April when they started making their appearance. I challenge everybody, everybody, to see a threat in a shiny, little golden leaf placed on the window sill.

They were really cool, by the way. Not even a little bit scary. Annoying, for sure. But not scary.

They made me curse every ancient god that watched over this Earth, though. I wouldn't get surprised if Cthulhu came knocking at my door asking why I was calling for them. For it was enough to leave the door a tiny tiny bit ajar for a freaking MOUNTAIN of leaves to make their entrance.

They defied physics. How the hell a metric fuck you of leaves could have come inside through an opening of an inch (measured) in less than half a minute is beyond me. But at least, broom and patience, and I swatted them away.

Now, I admit that maybe it was my fault, because if a normal person gets ATTACKED by leaves their first reaction is to find the tree those leaves come from.

It never crossed my mind, I swear. Not even when they started exploding.

Okay, maybe exploding is a bit of an overstatement. It's not like they went KABOOM and set things on fire.

It was just that as soon as I grazed them, even by blowing on them, puf! They turned into a little cloud of golden dust. And that mother-effing dust stuck! It didn't go away! Soon all my belongings were golden-leaf-dust-coated. I had a glittering house.

And if your first reaction is "Norman, normal leaves don't act that way" well, whoever you are, you may be an amateur botanist, but I know jack shit about trees. I wasn't gonna bother my landlord for a couple of leaves. It was my very first place of my own, I wasn't gonna act like a whiny baby. I think it would have solved a lot of problems, though.

Because then, around the middle of this January, it was the stains' turn. The streaks, the markings.

They started appearing in little spots, like little droplets of something. I didn't thought much of them, it was an old house in the middle of the woods, of course there would have been dirt here and there.

I found the first concerning one on the couch. It was a big, rough brown stain vaguely resembling a heart. Not a "❤" sort of heart, an anatomically correct heart with atriums and all. It had even the veins on it. It was a bit disturbing, I admit it. Maybe, a flying chair would have been a less noticeable warning.

However, it probably was just a Rorschach-like effect. Y'know, the test with the stains. It was just a puddle, but I thought it looked a bit like a heart and therefore was an anatomically-correct-heart-shaped puddle.

It was not the only rough brown stain I found. They didn't really bothered me, because, unlike that goddamned dust, they went away on their own. I had to clean off only the most visible ones. They just. Appeared. On the windows, the ceiling, at the bottom of the walls and on the floor, in the kitchen, on the mirrors, on my blankets, my clothes, even on the back of my binder. I felt a bit sorry when those disappeared, because they resembled two little bat wings.

If you followed me at the time, I'm sure you remember those pictures. How could you not? Some of them went viral, my notifications never recovered. I think that the rose on my bedsheets got reblogged by a heritage posts blog, like the "is this dress blue and black or white and gold?" meme.

By this point you are probably thinking "But Norman, at this point you must have noticed that something was wrong. Dirt doesn't appear and disappear, and it doesn't come in elaborate shapes." And you're right. I noticed that it was not right. I may be a skeptic, but until a certain point. But I'm not a moron. Except I was. Because it was just dirt. Dirt that came in beautiful patterns and went away on its own and it didn't bother me. So I pretended that everything was fine, it was normal, nothing was going on.

I am really, really a moron.

Because what happened next made me realize it was not dirt.

It was blood.

I... don't think I've ever posted the handprints on here. The heart, the rose, those little spots that looked like a constellation were all meant to get a laugh out of who saw them. Somebody even accused me of creating them myself, which, dear rando, thank you. It wasn't me. I can’t draw shit.

Handprints smeared on my kitchen were NOT, I repeat, NOT my doing. Why the fuck should I do such a thing? They were creepy as fuck, and I immediately got a hold of soap and sponge. The point is, they reappeared every time. I cleaned the glass panel, and the next morning I found two, if not more, different handprints.

Once there was one that had nothing better to do than flipping me off.

Very funny.

At a certain point I just gave up. The patterns always went away by themselves, I could suck it up and endure a "fuck you" by a stain on my window for a while.

Wrong. The second evening after my last attempt, at the start of September, they chose to up their game. Under my eyes, the substance they were made of slowly became dark crimson and wet and started dripping. I yelled and fell backwards, crashing over the table.

Quivering, I slowly crawled away from the window. I felt something wet on my fingertips, I must have hit my elbow in the fall. Instead of any kind of pain, it was disgust that clawed at my stomach. As I watched the trickle of blood on my forearm the memory of all the shapes came to mind and realization hit.

I've slept between those blankets, dammit!

I reached the sink and said goodbye to my breakfast. When my head stopped spinning, I grabbed soap and a rag and, in record time, cleaned off that nightmare from my glass.

Too bad that the nightmare just started.

This was the only place I had. I couldn't pack and just go. I should've done it, but I couldn't.

However, it was now time to bother my landlord. The sweet old lady that I talked to over the phone assured me she would come as soon as she could.

As soon as she could was a week later. That week was a nightmare. I tried to stay away from the house as long as I could. But I always had to sleep somewhere. And those nights... I don't want to talk about those nights. I was curled under my blankets, trembling and sobbing. Apparently, the 'dirt' stains now always came in liquid form. And I always woke up covered in golden glitter and red trickles, despite having a sheet all over me. Use your imagination.

When I finally greeted the sweet granny, I was in tatters. And glittering. As I said, the dried blood went away, the dust stuck.

For her, a single glance around was enough. She pursed her lips, and nodded solemnly. And told me that to solve this I had to leave something sweet as an offering, in the woods. Something like a cake, bread, cream, sugar, milk and honey.

Milk. And honey.

Are you FUCKING kidding me.

Apparently not, she was not kidding me. She looked extremely serious. And so I though, why not give it a shot? And after she left me I took a bowl, I filled it with milk and honey, and walked until I could find a good spot between the trees, where I left it.

The next morning I woke up unscathered. And when I went checking, the bowl was just shiny clean. Not even a drop.

So, a bowl of milk and honey in exchange for a night of peaceful sleep. And a clean house.

Poor fool that I was, I thought it could work.

This was three weeks ago. And, of those three weeks, just the first few days the milk worked. Because then, They wanted more.

Milk and honey, but with a spoonful of sugar. Slices of white, soft bread with butter and sugar. Mugs of coffee creamer and honey. Little cakes, like tarties and plumcakes. Sweets. Peppermints and toffee. And so forth.

Always more, always more.

And if the quota wasn't met, the blood returned. And the dust. And the misplaced stuff. And, between the trunks and branches, I could see lights dancing and hear soft laughter and singing, asking for more. More, more. More.

They just don't want to leave me alone. I can’t keep on living like this. I made my decision. I typed on here all of this story. So, now you all know. I have a kitchen knife shining next to me. Must sound more gutsy that it really is, but tonight I'm gonna march in the woods and make Them leave me alone.

It sounds so brave. But I'm not. I'm crying and shaking. My fingers can't stay still. There are tears on my laptop. I'm gonna die.

But anger is stronger. I-I will try to make Them stop. To make Them let me live my life. If it won't work, at the top of this story I left all you need to know. If things work out... I dunno. An update, maybe? A whole different story, maybe.

But now the story queued is this.

So, thank you, to all of my mutuals, for the time spent on this blue hell. I love all of you.

Goodbye

Norman

#if you saw the unfinished thing i posted by accident and left it there cuz i didn't notice haha no you didn't #i've spent a lot of time writing this; so i truly hope it will be good #and i hope there won't be any typos; i triple checked #there will be; i just know #but this story... i am kinda proud of how it turned out; ya know?#and; just as an experiment; i want to try to get out of my shell and tag it properly. just to see what happens.#my writing #please tell me what you think; because i had this in the making for a very long time #if you read until here; thank you; so much #bye :)#my little scrapbook collection #fey

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 year

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waow.. found a Beautiful Orb at the store today (giant ferrero rocher). I don't even want to crack into it and eat it.. I just want to hold it.. rotate it in my palm thoughtfully like I am an evil wizard who has just been delivered a Very Plot Significant magical gem and is scheming how to use it

#I'm pretty sure it's hollow inside so I also have a compulsion to break it like I could crush it in my palm #also like a cool evil wizard lol #but I just want to admire it mostly #A chronic personality trait of mine is that I love things that are too small or too large ESPECIALLY food items..#like a miniature version of a candy is cool. a large version of a candy is cool. normal sided version? who cares #BUT thats why I always loved like dolls and things like that. I wouldnt give a shrimp about the dolls I would just get them for the small #stuff. Like miniature food and clothes . love tiny representations of things and little strinkets #I like giant things less but they're still cool. I have a comically large wine glass even though I don't drink alcohol and have never drank #in my life but someitmes I have like.. coffee or orange juice or something out of it and it looks very funny. I also have a few of those gia #nt holiday themed pencils. and I had a giant apple once that was like the size of a football #This fererro rocher is not actually very big compared to a normal one but it's mostly special because it's dark chocolate #NOT Rond Noir though which are the best ones (out of normal fererro rocher. rafaellos. and rone noirs. the Typical Three)#So I was very disappointed that it's just a giant dark chocolate ferero rocher shell instead of a legit giant rondnoir :c #BUT at least it's dark chocolate lol #OH currently playing catch with it because it's like the size of a baseball and this is great #I think everyone should get a giant fererro rocher and unwrap the foil outside and then just throw the raw chocolate orb around #by 'catch' i mean more like... juggling but with one ball. I love to throw things up in the air and try to catch them #like maybe throw them across the room a little and see if I can run to the other end of the room in time to also catch the thing that I thre #w lol.. playing solo catch instead of two people thworing objects back and forth #THIS IS WHAT I MEAN!!! how do people experience boredom???? i do not understand. it's one of the Base Human Emotions that I seem to be #lacking like.. I genuine have never felt ''bored'' the way that people describe it. I can always entertain myself. I could throw a chocolate #ball back and forth with myself for 2 hours I bet if I didn't have other stuff to do . when I was a kid I would sit in my room laying on my #back kicking pillows and laundry baskets up in the air and catching them for like an hour straight. no tv in the background #no nothing. just getting lost in a repetitive physical task. i still LOOOOVE peeling carrots like if I just had a big pile of carrots I coul #d peel. or cutting candle wax into little balls or something. I am entertained by the smallest things. and even if I can't physically #do something and was locked in a blank white room for hours like.. doesn't everyone have a mental landscape they could entertain #themselves with? I spend legit half the day talking to myself and making commentary to myself for fun. there is ALWAYS something #interesting to do or think about like.. I just love everything a lot lol. I think thats part of why I'm also so detail oriented I just pay #attention to everything. I can spend 15 minutes admiring the way a piece of fabric folds at the corner of my sleeve or whatever #ANYWAY.. genuinely overjoyed throwing chocolate around. I wish I didn't have other stuff to get done so I could just Do This for 45 min lol

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byanyan · 1 year

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tfw you have severe social anxiety but your dog has to be excited to see people and will just run up to them to sniff & meet them...

#don't get me wrong. I love the boy. I love him sfm.#and I really really love how much he's come out of his shell #when we adopted him he was afraid of everyone & everything. he hid from people and wouldn't go down narrow hallways or upstairs.#now he's!! incredibly social (still afraid of other dogs but he loves people)!!!#I love that for him. so much.#but like... dude pleASE I just wanted to quickly let you do your business please don't drag me over to those people #I want to scream every time I get back inside lmao.......#fortunately I've only had one actually BAD experience of him just running up to sniff people but like. please dude ur killing me here #anyway. I'm in a weird & lowkey awful spot mentally so idk if I'll be able to write tonight #but I may try later idk idk my brain is nothing but 'idk' on repeat please forgive me #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ OOC ⋮ DON’T @ ME.

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astraystayyh · 9 months

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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

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Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

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"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.

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"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

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"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

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Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.

Bonus

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

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honeykaes · 1 year

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—𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲

✦ feat. albedo, childe, scaramouche, alhaitham

✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, reader is implied to wear lipstick (scara), lipgloss (alhaitham) and chapstick (childe) some lipstick kink, fingering (albedo), exhibitionism (albedo, childe), oral giving (childe), blowjob (childe), toys (alhaitham), alcohol use, slight dacryphilia (alhaitham), overstimulation (alhaitham), unedited

Ball season has begun in Mondstadt as the spring weather finally greeted the land. Typically, Albedo passed these opportunities up, not finding a reason to descend down the mountain and mingle when he could work on various experiments and work. This year, was different; he had you.

As the two of you attended, enjoying all the festivities gifted by the Knight of Favonius and their sponsors, Albedo was in complete awe seeing you dress up for the event. The Chalk Prince swore you were glowing as the orchestra played sweet melodies. As he grabbed your hand guiding you outside where the two of you could be secluded so he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed with the number of people inside dancing, chatting, and drinking—he leaned over, pressing his lips against your own; an overside he didn’t see coming.

A small moan left his lips as he pulled your hips closer, nibbling your soft bottom lip as he deepened the kiss. You didn’t notice his hand beginning to trail up, pushing past the layers of your bottom to cup your cunt. You gasped into his kiss, breaking it as a string of saliva connected his glossy ones with your own.

“A-Albedo someone will see!” you stammered out. A mischievous look glinted in the alchemist's large cyan eyes before sinking two fingers inside your sobbing cunt. Another gasp escaped your lips feeling his digits slowly move inside of you, curling and brushing against your velvety walls. He leaned his lips towards the shell of your ear nibbling at the earlobe feelings your walls flutter down at his thrusting fingers.

“Then let them. You’ve completely intoxicated me tonight, I just can’t help myself,” he groaned out, deep in your ear feeling his cock uncomfortably press against his tight pants. You threw your head back, as his thumb brushed against your throbbing clit.

“A-Albedo, more…” you whispered out. You felt his lips curl into a smile that was firmly planted on the nape of your neck.

“Whatever you desire, my love…”

With his connections within the Fatui and the harbinger’s constant travels, Childe seemed to always know where underground parties were in the various nations of Teyvat. Hearing about the next event in Inazuma, Childe asked you if you wanted to join him to witness these crazy gatherings for yourself and you agreed.

Watching you get ready, his dull sapphire eyes focused in on the chapstick you glided along your lips, leaving a nice shine on them. As you turned to him, he merely smiled trying to ignore his lustful desires knocking in the back of his head.

When the two of you finally get there, it seemed already wild. People were drunk, some were dancing with bottles of sake in their hands. You offer a timid smile to Childe who guided you to the dance floor to try to ease your nerves. The two of you danced with a smile on your face, and it was fairly easy to forget about the rest of the world around you as you enjoyed one another’s presence.

You soon found yourself turned around, feeling his hands sway with your hips—something beginning to harden pressed on the plush of your ass. It didn’t take long before Childe leaned over and grabbed your chin, pressing his lips on your own as he continued to grind on you with soft groans drowned out by the sea of noise around you.

Wanting to continue this, you grabbed his hand—to his shock—leading the two of you away from the crowd and into the bathrooms. As you locked the door, you were shocked as Childe came over to claim your lips once more. He was fumbling with his belt, soon shimming his pant's down and lifting his shirt up before his cock sprang up and hitting against his lower stomach. The slightly curved appendage twitched, precum budding at it’s flushed tip as Childe’s whole body shivered as you grabbed onto his cock.

“Ah ah ah, sweetheart. I don’t think a handy is going to suffice this time,” he groaned before flashing you a smirk. “I’ve been thinking about those lips all night. Can you indulge me?” You shyly agree, getting onto your knees and pressing your lips at the base of his cock as he sucked a breath in. You flattened your tongue against it, hitting one of his prominent veins—causing him to shiver again—and moved all the way up his tip before you finally took him into his mouth.

Bobbing your head and sucking as much as you could, you tried not to gag feeling his cock hitting the back of your throat. His hips bucked a few times as he tried to control himself, soon placing his hand on your hair watching you go down on his cock. He could see the shimmer from your chapstick beginning to shine on his cock as he began to grin.

“Good. Just like that. J-Just like…” he groaned out, sucking another breath in. You could feel his cock twitch in his mouth as a loud moan of your name echoed out—ropes of his cum shooting into your mouth. You closed your eyes swallowing as much as you could before you finally took his softening cock out of your mouth. Childe grabbed your chin once more, looking down at you.

“Heh, now…why don’t you reapply that chapstick. I think you accidentally smeared it,” he cooed, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip.

As begrudgingly Scaramouche did not want to see his fellow Harbingers, he knew that he had to show face at the Fatui banquet tonight before he could leave the Tsarista’s icy domain and head back to Inazuma.

He glared at the bathroom door, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. This suit was already irritating him, he hated the tie clinging onto his neck and the heavy coat covering most of his body. He was ready, he has been so for the last half hour so why weren’t you ready yet?

“We need to leave now. I want to get there early and leave early!” Scaramouche barked at the door. He heard you snort, before opening the door. He felt his chest flutter seeing you adorn such exquisite attire—the tailors he employed to create whatever formal attire you wanted seemed to earn their keep for now.

“I just need to do my makeup and we can leave. Since you seem so lonely, you can keep me company while I do it,” you sarcastically reply. Scaramouche grunted walking up and leaning in the doorframe, glaring at your image in the mirror. He hated that his how frantic his body felt watching you do your makeup. As you finally picked out a suitable lip color, you popped the lipstick open—applying it to your plush lips before he snapped his eyes shut.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

“W-We’ll arrive late and just leave later,” Scaramouche suddenly explained. As you were about to turn to inquire why he suddenly changed his mind, he hugged you from behind, you could feel his cock eagerly pressed behind you as he shielded his face away from your gaze, frustratingly embarrassed at himself. Your eyes softened as you sighed.

“Okay, but we have to be quick—” Just as you said that you felt him shift around to reveal your underwear, bending you down on the counter of the bathroom. His finger pressed against your clothed slit watching the fabric soon dampen, from sliding it up and down before it settled on your clit. Your body quivered in delight, feeling his finger swipe the fabric so he could directly play with your clit and watch as your cunt began to drool for him.

He quickly unzipped his pants swiping his tip along your slit with a hiss before sliding the tip inside of you. He did this movement for a while, trying to quickly get you more arousal until he felt you were properly prepped. Once satisfied by your slick beginning to coat his cock and sliding along your thighs, he fully sank his length inside of you—fingernails digging themselves into your side.

As he thrust inside of you, he watched the globe of your ass ripple to the pace of his thrusts. Heavy moans escaped his lips as he reached over and pinched your clit before pressing his thumb on it and flicking quick, tight circles on it. Your falls clamped down on his cock, as you grabbed onto the counter, feeling his spread your legs wider so he could get deeper inside of you.

You muttered his name countlessly as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, finally reaching your high before Scaramouche quickly followed suit. Thick globs of his cum spurted inside of you as he bucked his hips, trying to milk himself down from his high. With a sigh, he left your warm insides. He quickly pulled your underwear back up before his cum leaked down and adjusted your bottom self as he zipped his pants back up.

“When you calmed down a bit we’ll go,” he hummed, now satisfied walking back towards the front door as your legs shivered still trying to recover. That man is going to be the death of you.

Alhaitham was a lot more sadistic than he liked to let on. When you two first started dating and got comfortable sexually with one another, he would spring random questions about various kinks to see if you would like them. Some were great, others uncomfortable, and others a turnoff. You had suspicions he was doing research or utilizing a knowledge capsule to learn more about various and popular kinks of Teyvat and this aspect of him still continues in your relationship now.

Earlier this afternoon, Alhaitham revealed to you a new sexual device one of the Kshahrewar students had created and trademarked. Although it was just a prototype, he thought it would be interesting to try to test it out…on you, with your permission. Curious about it too, you agreed to participate in his study.

You felt your heart flutter watching him walk up to you, he glided your pants down slightly along with your underwear—cupping your cunt as he placed the device on your underwear and pulled everything back up as normal.

“How will this work anyway,” you ask. Alhaitham didn’t respond, at first before revealing to you a small remote device in his hand.

“This will control it. Why don’t we try something small at first” he stated. Just as he flicked the button on, your eyes widened and a moan erupted from your lips—intense vibrations were firmly pressed against your clit as your body shivered at the intense waves of pleasure flushing throughout your body.

“F-Fuck! A-Alhaitham…A-Ah!” you croaked out, stumbling to his chest. A small smirk curled onto Alhaitham’s lips watching you look up at him, lust completely clouding your eyes now tearing up from the intense pleasure.

“This bad? This is the lowest setting too…” he mumbled. Your eyes widened at that statement; how would you even be able to handle the rest of the settings if it was already this intense? Just as you were about to croak out a reply, you cried out body giving out as the vibrations began to highen even more as Alhaitham turned it on its medium setting. He held you steady before his eyes narrowed down seeing the smear of your lipgloss now on his shirt you didn’t notice you did.

“Now you’ve done it…Well, it’s an excuse to try this now,” Alhaitham mumbled, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, not even knowing what he said as the vibrations got even faster and harder, nudging firmly on your clit. Your vision turned white, finally cumming loudly in his arms—your clit burning from overstimulation. He quickly turned it off watching you shiver, silently in his arms completely tired and drool running down your lips.

Alhaitham silently wiped it off, feeling his cock twitching desperately to plunge itself inside of you. With a sigh, Alhaitham silently guided you to the couch, letting you recover from the toy.

“I’ll tell them they need to adjust the settings as they’re too intense. Usually, I alone like to see you like this on my cock, oh well, I guess…” Alhaitham hummed brushing your hair away from your closed eye.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #albedo x reader #albedo smut #childe x reader #childe smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 7 months

Text

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

clone - a - willy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Gojo Satoru x Chubby Fem Reader ɞ

❥ Summary: You've been paired up with Gojo Satoru for a class and you've developed a crush on him. After his fraternity holds a "Clone-a-Willy" fundraiser, and your friend buys you a dildo of his dick, your feelings grow stronger. You just hope he never finds out...

❥ Word Count: 4.2k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, female masturbation, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex (penis in vagina), petnames (princess, pretty), biting

───────────────

Smart. Handsome. Rich. Gojo Satoru was all these things, and now he was your lab partner.

You were shocked when you were given the assigned seat next to him and told that you would be partners for the semester. He was so polite too, nothing like the usual frat boys you met in your other classes.

“I’m Gojo Satoru! Nice to meet you! Let’s work hard this semester!”

God, his cheerfulness was intoxicating. No wonder you developed a crush on him during your first meeting.

It was just a little crush, nothing to sneeze over, but your roommate noticed how your disposition changed in just a couple weeks. She teased you endlessly, asking for details about the infamous Gojo Satoru of Alpha Phi. She’d heard rumors, just like you, of how he was a playboy and a huge flirt, but you hadn’t experienced that in class yet, much to your roommate’s disappointment.

“Damn, I was really hoping he was an ass like everyone said, you know, just so you could say the rumors are true about frat boys.”

You shrugged it off, just grateful that Gojo was kind to you and helpful during your labs together.

But things changed when Alpha Phi held a fundraiser.

You didn’t hear much about it until you got back to your dorm after the day’s classes and had to listen to your roommate gush about the event.

“You would not believe what they did this year!” You sighed, taking off your shoes by the door.

“What did they do?”

Your roommate didn’t reply. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out… a dildo?

“What—”

“They did a Clone-A-Willy fundraiser!”

You stared, shocked at the tan silicone toy, blinking rapidly.

“They… sold dildos?”

“That are copies of their own dicks!”

You kept staring, shocked, unsure of what to say.

“This is Geto Suguru’s dick. Isn’t it big? God, I can’t wait to use it.”

“I—”

“But don’t worry!” she interrupted, going back into her bag and pulling out yet another large dildo. “I got one for you too! Guess whose it is.”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“No—”

“Yes! It’s the Gojo Satoru’s dick in dildo form! Surprise! Happy birthday, happy New Year’s, happy whatever holiday you wanna celebrate!”

Your hand went to your mouth, trying to cover your expression.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I totally did. Gojo was out there selling em too, flirting with all the girls who bought his toy. And there were a lot of them too, I actually got one of the last ones just for you!”

“Ashley… This is insane. I can’t accept this.”

“What? Why not? I got it just for you. You don’t have to worry about the cost, I’m not gonna make you pay me back—”

“No! No, I… Ashley, he’s my lab partner. This is so inappropriate.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s nothing to worry about. You have a crush on him, we both know that, but unless you’re gonna start coming out of your shell and actively flirt with him, you’re never gonna get that dick. This will give you the chance to experience his dick without committing to the guy.” You rubbed your hand over your face.

“Ashley… This is so wrong…”

“Oh, Y/N, please calm down. Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just some harmless fun. If Gojo didn’t want people to use these dildos, he wouldn’t have made them in the first place. He’s okay with it.”

“But—”

“Look,” she started, opening your nightstand drawer, “you don’t have to use it if it really makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t take it back so you might as well keep it just in case.”

You couldn’t fight her on this, not when she gave those pathetic puppy dog eyes, pleading for forgiveness.

“Alright, fine. But I’m not going to use it!”

That’s what you told her. That’s what you told yourself. But you found yourself drawn to the girthy toy in your nightstand. The next time you had the dorm to yourself, you took it out and examined it in detail. It was thick, your hand barely able to wrap around it, and it was long too, long enough to reach deep inside you, hit all those spots that your stubby fingers would never be able to reach…

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you used the toy that same day, fucking yourself vigorously with it, making yourself whine. It felt so fucking good, filling you up so nicely, making you cum over and over again.

You cleaned and hid the toy before your roommate came back, and you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

You were very good at lying to yourself. Every chance you got alone, you were grabbing that toy, fucking yourself nice and deep in between your classes. You’d started imagining Gojo there with you, fucking you good, praising you all the while for taking his fat cock. You felt guilty for it, but you couldn’t help but moan his name quietly, wishing he was there to treat you right. Would he be slow and sweet? Or hard and fast? Would he call you a good girl or his precious little slut? Would he make you cream or squirt? Your thoughts swirled endlessly as you came on the toy once again, pulling it out and panting hard.

This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t be developing feelings for your lab partner like this. He even began to notice a change in you.

“Is something wrong?” he asked one day in the library while you were working on your project together. You cleared your throat, shying away when he leaned in closer towards you. God, his cologne smelled so good—

“I’m fine,” you lied, swallowing hard. You couldn’t look at him after what you had done the day before, after you had ridden his dildo for close to half an hour, cumming almost a dozen times. You couldn’t stop wondering if he would ever try to make you feel that good.

“You sure? You’ve been acting off the last few classes, and you’re not talking as much as usual.” He leaned forward into your line of sight, smiling softly, speaking quietly. “Look, if something’s wrong, we can reschedule. Maybe we could go someplace less stressful and not as packed? Maybe the lobby of the physics building? Or we can go to your dorm if that makes you comfortable?”

Here he was, being so sweet and considerate, and all the while you were masturbating to the thought of him using a dildo that was a literal copy of his dick. You felt so ashamed, and yet the thought alone was currently turning you on, making your legs clench.

“It’s okay. I can keep working.” He gave an unsure frown but nodded.

“Alright, if you say so, but I’m serious about working somewhere quieter next time. Maybe it’d be easier to finish this at your dorm. That way you’re comfortable and not as stressed about finishing this.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“Thank you, Gojo. We can go to my place tomorrow. My roommate has classes till five, so maybe we could meet right after lunch? That should give us enough time to finish what we don’t get done today.” Gojo smiled back at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.

“Sounds good. We could meet up for lunch if you want. I have a class at ten but then I’m free the rest of the day.”

You felt your heart pound, and you nodded a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

So, that’s what you did. You met at your chemistry building before walking to an on-campus cafe. You had a quick lunch, mostly talking about your project and your respective classes before you made your way to your dorm.

“Here it is,” you said after you unlocked the door, opening it wide and walking inside. You both discarded your shoes by the door before locking it and heading farther into your room.

“Nice place,” Gojo stated, looking around at the posters you had on the wall. “You like this band too?”

“Oh, them? Yeah, I’ve been a fan for a few years.”

“Really? That’s crazy. I haven’t met anyone on campus yet who likes em. What a coincidence,” he said with a toothy grin. You felt your heart flutter, but you shook your head and took out your laptop, plugging it in and sitting at your desk.

“Yeah, what a coincidence…”

The two of you started working quickly, you at your desk, Gojo on your bed with his own laptop. You were pretty quiet, making the occasional comment about your work before going back to silence. It was about an hour later when Gojo pushed his laptop to the side, lying back and stretching.

“Man, I’m beat! Thank God this project is pretty much done. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You hummed, glancing over at him, just to find him on his phone.

“Damn, I’m at 20%. Do you have a charger I could borrow?”

“Uh, yeah. Check the drawer on my nightstand.”

You didn’t realize what you said until the nightstand drawer opened.

“W-Wait—”

It was too late. Gojo had already pulled out the toy and proceeded to stare at it. You could feel your face burn as you stood up.

“I-It’s not what you think! My roommate got it for me as a joke!” He kept staring as he sat up, making you panic. “I-I haven’t even used it! It’s just been sitting in there collecting dust, ha ha!” Gojo hummed, scraping his nail along the toy.

“Something weird is dried on it…”

Fuck, you must not have cleaned it well. You rushed to his side, pulling the dildo away from him and hiding it behind your back.

“Look, I know this is weird, and I’m super sorry, but I promise it’s just a joke! Nothing’s happened, we can just go back to studying and—”

“Y/N,” he said low, standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “Be honest with me. Have you used that toy before?”

You felt like you were backed into a corner. Your stomach was flipping like crazy, making you sweat. You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t do anything but look down at the floor.

“Have you… thought about me while you did it?”

You still couldn’t answer, but you felt yourself shrink in on yourself. You could see his fists clench and unclench in your line of sight. Fuck, he was mad, he must’ve been. Why else would he be so quiet? Maybe he was disgusted with you. Maybe he would yell at you and stomp out. Shit, what if he told your secret to all his friends? What if you became the laughing stock of your university?

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You hesitantly looked up, meeting his icy blue gaze. You were about to apologize, beg him not to say anything to anyone, promise to do all the work the rest of the semester if he would just keep quiet. But you didn’t have the chance to.

Before you could blink, Gojo leaned forward and kissed you.

Your eyes widened, hands dropping the dildo behind you as his lips moved against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his chest—you could feel his muscles through his shirt—nails digging into the fabric. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, hips pressed together. You pulled away when he licked at your lip, staring up at him, cheeks burning.

“I… I don’t understand,” you whispered, eyes searching his face. He was blushing, glowing when he smiled down at you.

“I got a confession to make, Y/N.” His arms circled your waist, keeping you flush to him. “I’ve kinda been crushing on you all semester.”

Your eyes widened, jaw going slack.

“You… what?”

“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “You’re just so sweet and nice and smart and pretty! I’m sorry for throwing this on you, really I am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You shook your head, taking a step back.

“This isn’t funny, Gojo. Don’t play with my feelings.”

“I’m not, I swear! Here, look at me,” he said, taking your hands and looking deep into your eyes. “I really like you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t say it till now, but I’m telling the truth.”

“You… you mean it? You’re not joking around?”

“No, Y/N. I would never joke about this. I swear to God, I like you so much that it’s keeping me up at night.”

You couldn’t believe it. The Gojo Satoru was confessing to you. Not even in your best dreams did you think this would be happening to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you closer, leaning towards you. “Is it okay if I prove how much I like you?”

“P-Prove?” you stuttered, picking up on his flirting. He nodded, pulling you to his chest again, arms flying around your waist.

“Wanna show you how much I like you.”

You hesitated, feeling your skin burn, your cunt clenching in anticipation.

“O-Okay… you can sh-show me.”

“Yeah? Pretty girl wants me to show her how crazy she makes me?” You stifled a whine, nodding quickly, only making his smirk grow. “Good. How about you get on the bed for me?”

You found yourself complying with his demands, inching towards the bed and sitting on top, waiting for his next move. He stood between your legs, staring down at you for a good long while before his hands went down to your hips.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded, letting him unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so he could slide them off. Your jeans and panties were discarded onto the floor, and Gojo fell to his knees.

“Your thighs are so warm and soft,” he muttered, kneading your legs, making you leak. “I love seeing how they squish when you sit down. I’ve thought about laying my head on them way too much.”

With that, he rest his forehead against your thighs, nuzzling into you, humming to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, making you inhale sharply, squeezing your legs shut tighter. He clicked his tongue, weaving his hand between your legs.

“Don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna show you how I feel.”

He pulled apart your thighs, spreading them wide, revealing your chubby pussy to him. He sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your upper pussy, nosing his way down between your legs. He kissed your pudgy pussy lips, flicking his tongue against them, making you tremble. His slender hands trailed up your thighs, peeling apart your pussy lips, revealing yourself to him.

“Oh God… your pussy… it’s so pretty,” he spoke in disbelief, staring at you. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, squirming under his gaze.

“Please… don’t—hah!”

His tongue darted out, flicking your clit with the tip. His blue eyes stared up at you, watching your expression contort as his tongue flattened against your clit, licking it fully. He moved it up and down languidly, blinking slowly as he gained a rhythm. After a minute, he began drawing patterns—circles and figure eights. At one point you wondered if he was spelling his name because you could’ve sworn he was writing in cursive with his tongue.

You soon became a moaning mess, resting back on your elbows, hips twitching into his mouth. You gasped when you felt his finger prod at your entrance, circling it, dipping in just the tip before pushing in down to the knuckle.

“God, you’re so tight, too. How in the world did you fit my dildo inside? Fuck, just thinking about you masturbating with it turns me on like crazy.”

“I-I’m sorry f-for using the t-toy!” you whined, voice pitching when he curled his finger, hitting your g-spot.

“Don’t apologize, princess. I think it’s so fucking hot. I was hoping you would show up that day to get one, but I must’ve missed you.”

“It-It was from my f-friend.”

“Ahh, nice friend, getting you such a nice toy to play with. Shit, if I had known you were using my dildo, I would’ve confessed a lot fucking sooner. So much time wasted.”

He added a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out at a steady pace. You could hear how wet you were, your cunt clenching around his fingers as he thrust them into you. You fell back on the bed, back arching as you felt pressure build inside you.

“Oh my God… you’re pulsing around me. You gonna cum? Ya gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, I want you to, please, I want it so bad.”

His mouth went back to your clit, forming an ‘O’ shape around it, sucking harshly. The action made you squeal, hands finding his hair, tugging at the white strands. You only made him moan against you, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. His combined efforts were putting you through a whirlwind of sensations, hurtling you towards your peak.

“G-Gojo, please, I-I-I—”

“Go on, pretty. Let go for me. Wanna see you cum on my fingers.”

That was it. That was enough to send you over the edge. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open as you came. You gushed around his fingers, back hurting from how hard it was arching off the bed, thighs clenching next to his cheeks. The moment passed, and you could feel yourself coming down from your high.

But he didn’t stop.

You cried out, begging him to let up, to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. He kept sucking at your clit, fingers pumping quickly, making you climb towards another climax far too quickly.

“Gojo, Gojo! Please, stop, I-I can’t! Please, I—ah!”

It was too late. You were cumming again, trembling under his hold. His mouth and fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak, guiding you back to Earth. He released your clit, pulling away, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.

“Holy shit. That was good. Do you always cum like that or was it because of me? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t know if my ego can take it.”

You giggled, breathless, eyes traveling from the ceiling to between your legs where Gojo was sucking your slick off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.

“God, and you taste good too. Not fair!”

You both laughed. You sat up, reaching for him. He got up, complaining for a moment about his knees hurting before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his tongue prodding into your mouth. You opened up for him, deepening the kiss, moaning into him. You felt good, really good, and you wanted to keep things going.

You pulled away, staring up at him lustfully.

“Do you wanna keep going?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He blushed, huffing out a laugh.

“God, I do, I really fucking do, but…” He sighed, hanging his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“That’s okay,” you replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”

His head whipped up, almost busting your lip in the process.

“Really?! And you’re okay with having sex without a condom?” You nodded, making him smile. “Jeez, and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect.”

He stood up, pulling his shirt off, revealing his chiseled physique. He undid his belt, eyeing you the whole time he pulled down his zipper and pushed his pants down. It was all very sexy until he tried to kick off his pants, tripping over them and stumbling to the side, catching himself on your nightstand. You covered your mouth, stifling your laughter. He chuckled as well, brushing himself off even though he was blushing hard.

Gojo joined you on the bed, helping you out of your shirt and bra, letting you lie down and relax against your pillow. He massaged your thighs as he spread them open.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You nodded, humming in confirmation. He nodded back at you, holding the base of his cock and directing it towards your cunt. “Okay… I’m gonna put it in.”

He pushed the head of his cock into you, hissing quietly at the tight fit. He stopped once the head was in, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. When you nodded at him, he pushed in further, moving slow, steadily, purposefully. Once he bottomed out, he let out a shaky sigh, laughing lightly.

“You’re… you’re tighter than I thought,” he huffed, already out of breath as he met your gaze. “I-I’m gonna move now.”

He pulled back, leaving in just the tip before pushing back in slow, savoring every ribbed inch of your cunt. He pulled out again, pushing in faster, beginning a steady pace.

“Oh… Oh wow. You feel… so much better than I thought you would.”

“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, voice small and sweet.

“Mm-hm. Never thought I’d get to do this, ya know. I thought you’d reject me if I confessed to you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. He nodded, moving a little faster, making you moan. “I… I had a crush on you from the first moment we met…”

“You did?” You nodded, making him huff. “No way… no fucking way. You liked me all this time? You didn’t just wanna fuck me?”

“N-No… You’re so sweet and nice… I thought you were so cool, Gojo, too cool for me.”

“What? No way… If anything, you’re too cool for me.” He moved faster, making you bounce along the bed. “You’re so fucking smart. I don’t have a clue what’s happening in class half the time, but you do. And you’re so pretty too. You’re way out of my league.”

Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, moving from his hands down to his forearms, leaning closer towards you. You moved forward and kissed him gently, making him moan in your mouth, tongues dancing as he slowed his pace just a bit. He savored feeling your lips against his, petting your hair, marveling at its texture. He pulled away to stare down at you as he started moving faster again, pumping his cock in and out of you, making you gasp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, glancing over your figure. “I love your body. I love your curves. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”

“G-Gojo—”

“Please, call me Satoru. Wanna hear you say my name.” You swallowed, cupping his cheeks.

“S-Satoru… It f-feels good!”

“Yeah? Feels good? What feels good, baby?”

“Your cock… It feels so good inside me…”

“Yeah? Better than that silly dildo, right? Do I fuck you better than that little toy?”

“Mm-hm! So much better!”

His eyes rolled back and he thrust faster, hands traveling over your form. He palmed at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple, making you whine. His mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, making you perk up in his mouth. His tongue rolled around your nipple, mouth slobbering on it. He moved his mouth to your other nipple next, his hands moving to your belly, squeezing and molding it.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispered in disbelief. “How are you so fucking soft?”

“I mean… I-I moisturize…”

“But still… I’ve never felt skin as soft as yours. I kind of envy you,” he said with a laugh, making you laugh as well. “God, and your giggle. It’s so fucking cute. I just wanna bite you.” You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently.

“You… you can bite me… if you want…” His eyes widened.

“Fuck, say less.”

He dipped down towards your neck, kissing and licking at it before digging his teeth into you, biting down. You moaned at the feeling, his cock pumping even faster now that he was latched onto your neck. He sucked hard, hands rubbing your plush tummy as he fucked you harder. He pulled back with a loud ‘pop’, admiring the mark he left behind.

“Fuck, I… shit, I think I’m gonna cum. Can I cum in you, pretty thing? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t fucking stand it.” You nodded quickly, moving your hand between your legs to rub your clit.

“Y-Yeah… you can cum in me.”

Satoru groaned, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, moving his fingers quickly to get you to the edge. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, hips bucking up to meet his. You rocked against each other, moaning each other’s names, begging and pleading for God knows what as you simultaneously reached your highs. His hips lost their rhythm, moving faster, more erratically. The unpredictable rhythm made you climax, nails digging into Satoru’s pale back as you came. He followed right after, groaning low as he released inside you. He almost collapsed on top of you as he came, bracing himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you. His hips twitched, the last bit of cum spilling from his cock and filling you up.

The two of you were panting, rubbing your noses against each other as you came down from your highs. He eventually pulled out, watching his cum leak from your abused cunt, smiling softly. He fell to your side, sighing, pulling you towards him and kissing your cheek.

“So,” he started, smiling at you, “guess you won’t be needing that dildo anymore, huh?”

───────────────

#smut #☀️ fics #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fem reader #chubby reader #chubby fem reader

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Hey! I know you wanted more requests for people besides the marauders so you can do this for anyone you like but maybe reader who is just soooo in love with them that anytime they do something nice for her she starts crying? Like happy tears because she's just so in love and she doesn't know how to express that. If you don't want to that's fine!

Hi, thank you! I decided to go with Sirius anyway because I felt like he'd be the most fun. (This is gonna be me btw, the first time I experience romantic love there's no way I'm gonna be able to handle it)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to show off my tattoos on the first day?”

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, looking longingly at the way Sirius’ inked-up forearms pair with his black dress shirt. “I feel like after the interview it won’t matter, but today you probably want to present your straightest-laced self.”

“Gross,” he grunts, but starts rolling down his sleeves.

It’s a rare sight, Sirius up before noon, but his job interview is scheduled for ten and he doesn’t feel in a position to negotiate. The frail morning light bounces off the full length mirror he’s standing in front of and illuminates the room as he purses his lips and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You’re lying on the bed watching him get ready, trying your very best not to look enthralled and wanton (it is a constant effort).

“My most gorgeous, radiant angel, could I ask you for a favor?”

You grin, warmth flooding your chest. “You don’t have to butter me up. What is it?”

“Grab the bigger version of this shirt? I think I may want a baggier tuck.”

You hum and get up, padding into the closet. Sirius’ clothes are all strewn over the floor and dresser, but miraculously the shirt you’re looking for is on a hanger. As you reach for it, you nearly trip over a small box on the floor. It looks like the shell of something Sirius was sent in the mail, plain cardboard with the shipping label torn off. You bring it back out with you.

“Thanks, lovely,” Sirius says as he takes the hanger from you.

“No problem,” you reply. “Want me to recycle this for you?”

He turns to look, blinks, then looks harder. “No. Where’d you find that?”

“On the floor.”

“Must have fallen off its shelf.” He discards the smaller shirt on the bed and starts doing up the buttons of this new one, smirking when your eyes track the deft movements of his fingers. “Don’t throw it out, it’s got important stuff in it.”

You weigh the box in your hand. “It feels empty.”

“It’s got important, lightweight stuff in it.”

You eye the barely-open flap of the box, intrigued. “Can I look inside?”

You think you catch a flicker of hesitation across Sirius’ features, but it’s quickly schooled into insouciance. A vine of nervousness winds around your gut. “Sure,” he says, “go ahead.”

You look at him a bit longer before slowly peeling back the cardboard flap. Inside is a mishmash of things. Paper, mostly, but you recognize one item immediately. It’s a flimsy, neon orange paper wristband, a venue’s name stamped haphazardly onto one side. At the first concert you’d gone to together, Sirius had griped endlessly about how the orange contrasted with his outfit horribly and brought out all the ugliest hues of his skin (there aren’t any, but you were too timid to tell him that at the time). He’d seemed desperate to be rid of it. But here it is, carefully clipped off instead of torn and preserved like something special. Something warm and weighty blooms in your chest.

You take out one of the pieces of paper, unfolding it. It’s your handwriting, thoughtless scribbling you’d left for him to find on the fridge one day after you’d left for work. Have a great day, love you.

Another is a bar napkin, containing a whole back-and-forth exchange between you and Sirius from the first time you’d met his friends. You’d kept passing it to him under the table, asking Do they like me? Are they just being nice? Is Remus always so frowny? and he’d passed it back saying Yes. Yes, they love you. James is this nice to everyone, but I can tell he likes you. Remus is being a sourpuss because he hasn’t eaten yet. You’re perfect.

By the time you come upon a polaroid you’d forgotten he’d taken of you in his kitchen, you’re pressing your lips together to keep them from wobbling and your entire being feels warmed by incandescent, aching fondness. Your heart feels so big you can’t breathe around it. You’re not sure you have room for this much love, but you’ll happily carry it around like a weight in your chest for the rest of your life.

You’re all too aware that Sirius is watching you now, so you try to keep it together for his sake, but when you blink a tear slides down the side of your nose.

“Hey,” he chides lightly, amusement inlaid with a bit of panic. “Don’t.”

You sniffle, then laugh wetly. “Can I hug you?”

Normally he might make a joke (Not if you’re going to get snot all over my interview shirt) but something in your expression must sway him, because Sirius’ eyes go soft. “Yeah, baby. Of course.”

He doesn’t make you get up, crossing the distance to the bed and wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a little sob at the contact.

“I’m gonna clean off your shirt once we’re done,” you promise, gripping his shoulders.

“Okay.” He sounds amused.

“I just—I didn’t know you kept this stuff.”

“It’s cheesy.”

“It’s not,” you insist, hugging him tighter. It makes you happy beyond words, to know you’re bringing this out in him. To see, with your own eyes, how much he loves you back. You can check in with yourself at any time and know you’re happy in your relationship with Sirius, but you never could have imagined how spectacular it would feel to know that you make him this happy in return. “It’s special, Sirius. You’re special.”

“James’ mum used to tell me the same thing.”

“Oh, shut up.” You smack his arm, pulling back with a huff. You’re smiling, though, and he sees, taking your wet, blotchy face between his palms and grinning at you. Honestly, if he weren’t Sirius Black, he’d be such a dork.

“I love you,” he says, a significance in his tone that contradicts the playfulness in his expression. “Do I let you forget it?”

“No,” you tell him. “You don’t, it’s just…I just really love you too, you know?”

His smile spreads, flashing canines the second before he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s firm and spirited, and Sirius holds you there until you’re laughing into his mouth.

“I know,” he says, pecking you once more on the lips before letting you go with a swipe of his thumbs across your cheeks. “Alright, gorgeous, clean me up, would you? I’ve got other people to go impress.”

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improbable-outset · 2 months

Text

📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

I think it’s about time I post the SFW version of this HC collection. Just like the NSFW version, I’m going to try and make this as accurate to his character as possible while putting my own input too. I wrote the NSFW back in September so there might be some HC that will be slightly different. My interpretation on Miguel’s character will evolve.

Also since the NSFW alphabet was written with a gn Reader, it’s only fair I do the same here too. Fair warning, going through these head cannons is NOT going to be a walk in the park 😭 just a heads up

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

📄 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

There’s a lot to cover here but I’m going to try my best to summarise this headcanon. Given the fact that Miguel has experienced a complex family dynamic in the comic books, especially from his mother ridiculing him, I think he’ll have a hard time expressing affection

And on top of that, he’s been isolating himself to keep the multiverse in balance. So having receiving affection like that will be foreign to him since it’s not something he grew up with

I mean you could point out that he showed Gabriella devotion and affection as a father because he didn’t want her to experience the same shitty childhood he did growing up

After the dimension collapse, he’s more closed off and reserved. It’ll take a lot of effort to build that trust in someone again and openly express his emotions

Going back to his background now, even after Miguel tried to fix his relationship with his mother, he was always brushed off and was seen as self-centered. This would definitely reflect in his relationship having grown up being misunderstood

📄 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think this depends heavily on the timeline on when you actually meet him. We’ve all seen the post credit scene in the first movie when he was testing out the gizmo for the first time

I know we've only seen a glimpse of his character but I can’t imagine him being as cold and bleak back then as he is now, after he broke the canon

That being said, I think it would’ve been easier to be friends with him back then. Sure, he would’ve been a sarcastic asshole sometimes (affectionate) but at least he wasn’t closed off and easily irritated as he is now during ATSV

But if you’ve met him after the incident of Gabriellas’s dimensions collapse, let’s just say it’ll be a rocky road. It’ll take a while for him to break that outer shell (do not underestimate when I say a while). I think Jess is probably the only person that could get through to him, possibly Peter too.

It’ll take time. It’ll always take time… you can understand why he’s angry and stressed

📄 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

We can collectively agree that this man is touch starved and I don’t just mean sexually. As much as he hates to admit it

Once you both made your relationship official, it’ll be you that would rest on his chest first whenever you would need comforting. He’s used to being relied on— whether it’s serving his partner or when leading the Spider Society— not the other way around. He can’t bring himself to be dependable on someone just yet

But later on, when he does break down that barrier and swallow his pride for once, you’ll get him to rest on you. Initially he does deny that he needs such comfort but if you coax him enough, he’ll give in

He’ll be stiff at first with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him, but with each passing second he slowly relaxes his muscles under your embrace

Sooner or later, he’s melted under you and if you're lucky, he’ll fall asleep. Poor guy needs a break

📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Deep down, underneath that hard exterior he secretly desires to settle down with someone. He yearns to come home to someone that will be excited to see him and just be present in his life. I haven’t read the comics yet so I’m basing this off ATSV Miguel but, he hasn’t experienced anything like that. I feel like he has fantasised to be in Peter B Parker’s shoes a few times where he can go home to a family

He’s grown accustomed to coming home to an empty apartment with nothing but his AI assistant to keep him company. But just because he’s used to it, doesn’t mean he likes it that way

After he lost Gabriella, the gravity of his loneliness really hit him. Especially given the fact that it wasn’t his official family, it was his variant’s and he was just replacing him

The grief still stayed though. He knows he’s never going to have that family again and now he’s back to everything being hollow

Once he does finally get to settle down I can imagine him struggling to adjust to his new lifestyle, now that he’s living with his partner

At first he’s barely home, always in HQ and busting his ass keeping everything in order because that’s what he’s used to

But after he realises his old habits, he tries to amend himself. He’ll try and put more effort in domestic tasks just to be around you more. Sure, he still has that underlying stress and he’s still getting used to not being cooped up in his office. But that feeling will subside once his habits change

📄 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think this depends on who’s at fault here, the reason why your relationship has ended. But it’ll highly likely be because of Miguel’s overworking habits and not putting priority on the people he cares about

Sure the multiverse is important but he can get another Spider Person like Jess or Peter to take care of it while he takes a break. But he doesn’t

Throughout your relationship, you try to help him change his habits and his routine so he can live a healthy and more fulfilling life. Even grow a family together if that’s what you want. Unfortunately there’s only so much you can do and everything just feels like one step forward, two steps back— even after you communicate that with him and give him so many chances

He’s probably too blinded by his stress to even realise the harm he’s causing in your relationship. He finally gets that wake up call when he comes home to see you pack your bags

It’s up to you where you want to go from there…

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I know in the comics, he did propose to Dana and as much as I’d love to see him as a husband and be his pretty little housewife, he can’t make that sort of commitment unless he heals from his past

If he wants something solid with a healthy and long lasting marriage, he needs to sort himself out otherwise there will be consequences later on down the line. Unresolved emotional baggage can lead to him being emotionally distant and unexpected outbursts

Even if he doesn’t mean to hurt you, there’s still a part of him that’s still wounded and he’ll bleed onto people that don’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his heated outlet. He needs to be able to be open with his partner if he wants to commit to them

Didn’t expect this sort of turn lol. It will take time but I think Miguel might want to settle down and if he truly wants it to happen, he’ll put in the effort

📄 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Miguel knows that he is a big man and he’s aware of his strength which is why he’s always careful with you. Obviously the last thing he wants is to hurt you physically

However, when it comes to emotional, I think he’s the one that needs to be handled with care. Like I mentioned before, he’s living a post tragedy so it will be hard for him to be vulnerable at first

There are times where he’ll have outbursts but he’ll never in a million years resort to hurting you. He’ll regret even reaching his tipping point afterward though. You don’t deserve that when all you’ve been doing was looking out for him

📄 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I wouldn’t say he’s much of a hugger. Not openly anyways. He’s not good with PDA and would rather show his affection, both physical and emotional, privately

But if you do initiate the hug, he wouldn’t refuse. He probably needs it anyways. He would slowly wrap his arms around you and gently embrace you. I think he does squeeze a little after

With his big broad arms, he can easily wrap around your body. His hugs are warm and they always make you feel secure in his arms. His height makes it easy to envelope you too

📄 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Oh boy….I could see this go either two ways.

One: he’ll either have a barrier around himself that will prevent himself from being emotionally vulnerable to avoid getting hurt. So he would have a hard time expressing his love vocally but will show you through other ways like act of service or being protective over you. He won’t directly say I love you unless you initiate it first.

Or two: he’s so distraught from his grief that the fear of loss still lingers. So he’ll take every chance he can get to remind you that he loves you with all his heart

“Te amo mucho.” “Te quiero.” “Eres el amor de mi vida.”

There’s that underlying fear that he’ll lose you, either by being snatched away from him like Gabriella or you’ll leave him one day. But at least you’ll know how much you mean to him while you were together. That will give him a sense of ease

Either way, both situations are driven by his tragic past. Though personally, I’d prefer the latter

📄 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think Miguel’s jealousy will stem from the fear of loss again and the desire for stability in the relationship. Sure, he has support from his colleagues from the Society but that’s not the same as receiving devotion and love from a romantic partner

And because of that, he’ll be more vigilant about perceived threats to your relationship, driven by the fear of losing you. The vigilance could exhibit as jealousy if it means preserving that special emotional connection you both share and a tinge possessive over you too. It’s possible that this could be a defence mechanism for him after everything he’s been through

Not saying that he doesn’t trust you or anything, but I know that he will give anybody a death glare if they even look at you the wrong way. He knows his height and physique can be intimidating. This does go hand in hand with security that we will cover more on later

📄 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Awhh my absolute favourite prompt. I know Miguel loves kissing his partner on the forehead, giving his height and all. It’s just so sweet and tender and he’ll probably do it throughout the day when he can’t vocally express his love

He loves watching you try kiss his cheek especially if you’re shorter and stuggling to reach. He just finds it so endearing. He’ll bend a little so you could reach his face and peck his cheek of course. He loves your kisses too

The first time you both shared your first kiss was after the third or forth date. He bent over to reach your eye level while you lifted your head up

He held your face gently and titled his head before he leaned in. God bless Kris Anka for giving this man such smoochable lips by the way

📄 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

You would think that after he lost his daughter, Miguel would be eager to be a father again. He would love to have children of his own.

Yeah…think again. I don’t think he’ll agree that easily. You can’t tell me that the idea of having children again wouldn’t trigger some sort of relapse. He’ll either think he wouldn’t be a good father or he wouldn’t want to replace Gabriella.

Call me bleak, but he just watched his daughter disappear in his arms (and committed omnicide) and is left emotionally traumatised.

Even if we all know he’s not at fault and he was unaware of the consequences at the time, that’s not going to stop him from blaming himself.

Initially he would probably abstain from having children until you came into his life. Seeing your character, not only as a partner but your personality in general, will probably shift his perspective a little

The thought of being the father to your children will probably motivate him into being better for your sake. He can’t imagine having children with anyone else now especially seeing the way you interact with other babies like Mayday

An added bonus if you’re carrying his child. He will place his hand on your bump to feel the baby kick and I think that momentary bond with his unborn baby will resonate with him.

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Morning routines can be pretty peaceful, especially with you around now. Waking up next to you makes everything better for him ten folds

He’s usually the first to wake up (no surprise) and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day

By the time you’re up he’s already in the kitchen. Unless you’re an early riser too. Before you got together, he’s breakfast would consist of instant coffee and maybe a toast if he’s lucky

But now with you around, you make sure he has a proper meal before he starts his day. And he has noticed that he’s more alert and aware after a nutritional breakfast. He’ll always be grateful for that

📄 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Night routines aren’t as blissful though. There are some nights where he wouldn’t be home, probably in another dimension tackling an anomaly again. It comes to no surprise being in a relationship with a superhero

But that doesn’t make it any less lonely for you. Your heart does ache for him and you’re always worried about his safety. Some missions take days and it’s hard to predict when he’ll be back home

But when you finally do get to share a night together, things are more content. You would either spend the evening cooking together or watching a movie. Either way, you’re grateful that he’s safe at home

📄 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Initially, Miguel was reluctant on expressing himself with you. He doesn’t want to put his burden on you even though he constantly remind him that you’re his partner. You’re there to support him, yet he still insists that he’s fine

And because he bottles everything in, his behaviour is effected whenever you’re together. Easily irritated, uncharacteristically quiet and only giving one word answers

He quickly realises that keeping everything in is doing your relationship more harm than good and you’re only getting hurt in the process

Slowly but surely, he eventually opens up, revealing layers of himself to you overtime. This could include sharing his past, his fears and his dreams which builds a deeper connection between the two of you

📄 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

You know, the first time I was introduced to Miguel, I saw him as a ticking time bomb. Ready to burst any second. But it didn’t take long to realise his perspective on things

The only reason he was pissed off in the movie was because he was challenged. Imagine busting your ass trying to keep the multiverse in order so you wouldn’t have to repeat one of the biggest mistakes you’ve done and then someone comes in and puts it at risk

Sure, the way he acted out was uncalled for but like I mentioned before, unresolved emotional baggage

However, when if comes to his partner, he’ll put more effort into being more patient with things. Building that trust and intimacy will take time but it’ll be worth it. When it comes to your relationship, he’ll avoid rushing into expectations and let things happen organically

I know he’ll be good when it comes to respecting boundaries, especially the fact that there will be moments where he would want to be alone to collect himself. He will know you would follow through and it’s only fair that he would respect any of your wishes too

📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think he’s pretty good when it comes to remembering what you like. I know that later on in the relationship, he’d love to learn more, what makes you tick, the good and the bad, and what will instantly boost your mood. I wouldn’t say he would remember the nitty gritty details about you but he will remember the important things.

It’s the least he can do after everything you’ve done for him and giving him the safe space he needs

However, he’s not very good when it comes to keeping up to date with special events. I’ll get into more details later on so you can understand where I’m coming from

📄 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

This is going to sound a little corny but Miguel’s favourite memory with you is when he finally built the courage to be emotionally vulnerable with you for the first time

You can imagine how this was a massive step since it’s all foreign to him. He was hesitant when he was venting to you for the first time, with his head resting on your lap and your hands running through his hair

That was when he felt the weight being lifted from his shoulder. Being a leader and having people rely on him for everything was draining but you saw past all of that. You managed to see the man inside him after unravelling the hard exterior. A momentary bliss in his blaring background noise of his life

That was the first time he realised he had found his person. Someone who saw the gray instead of seeing things as black and white

📄 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Being a superhero and a leader of an elite force, Miguel will naturally be protective over you. His commitment to you also means keeping you safe from any danger not just as a civilian but as a devoted lover too

This also ties in to his fear of loss just as I mentioned earlier about his jealousy. Except this extends beyond mere jealousy with a genuine desire to shield you from harm

There are different ways he will express his protective nature such as creating a safe space for you or anticipating potential threats that could put you at risk before it could even happen

📄 𝐓𝐫𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Does this man put effort into your relationship…

You guys might hate me for making him look like a terrible partner. I’m just trying to be realistic here… but I think he won’t be best when it comes to remembering special events like anniversaries, birthdays and whatnot. It’s not that he doesn’t try

This guy is literally dimension hopping throughout his daily routine at work as well as keeping the Spider Society together.

I know that going to different dimensions is probably gonna fuck up with his internal clock and he’ll lose track of the days very easily

I’m not trying to make excuses for him or anything. He’s a busy man and overworked (like I didn’t reiterate that enough). But if it really upsets you, I think you should really communicate with him. Remind him of those special days because I know it’ll probably slip his mind. If he cares about you he should try to make time for you, right?

But on the other hand, he might even surprise you when you least expect it. You’ll probably assume that he’ll be in another dimension that special day and you come home to see him surprise you with gifts and such. I can imagine that happening too

📄 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Wouldn’t really call this ugly but this is a huge flaw that isn’t talked about enough

After the broken canon incident we already know he’s left traumatised but I think he has some untreated PTSD too and he refuses to get the help he needs

He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘broken leader’ (his words maybe) when he has so many people from the Society relying on him (toxic perfectionism?)

Unfortunately for him, if he doesn’t tackle these issues now, it will affect his relationship in the long run

📄 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I think we can all agree that Miguel naturally does put effort in his look, whether he’s single or not. He’s clean shaven and his hair is slick back everyday. So I can imagine a morning routine with him making himself look good. And I think he knows he looks good too

But when it comes to going out on dates and stuff, he will definitely put more effort in his appearance

I can see him asking Lyla for advice on what to do on the first date and how to make himself look more presentable, especially if you’re someone he wants to take seriously. He’s a little rusty with these things but he’s a quick learner too

📄 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I can’t see Miguel having the whole “my partner is my other half” belief. I think it’s an overstatement to him.

But if you’re both compatible enough, he will be aware that you bring out the best in him. Whenever he’s on the verge of overworking or overly stressed out, you’re always there to keep him grounded and give him the pep talk he needs to hear. He’s never been supported and loved while simultaneously reprimanded for his bad habits like this

Without you he realises that he’s a mess but now that you’re here, he has that drive to be better not just for the sake of your relationship, but for himself too. He has somebody special to look forward to seeing after work now

So sure, his partner doesn’t make him ‘whole’ but you do make him a better man and that’s all he needs

📄 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Finally, I can say something wholesome about this man. So I know that he has a personal gym near HQ where he would train and keep in shape.

I have a strong feeling that he enjoys it when his partner watches him work out. It’s a serious ego booster for him. At first he was a little weirded out that you would just stare, it wasn’t something he wasnt used to, but now he loves it when you admire him from afar.

It gives him that extra motivational boost to do better. He loves it when you steal quick kisses between each sets too.

Speaking of which, you can’t tell me that one scene in the movie when he flawlessly destroyed those grenades from the vulture that he didn’t do it with a smirk under his mask. He knew he ate that.

📄 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Something that he wouldn’t like in his partner. I can’t lie, it was pretty hard to pinpoint with this one but after brainstorming, I think I know what he wouldn’t like

This might be controversial since this trope is pretty popular but I don’t think the whole sunshine x grumpy trope will work with him

Maybe in a different universe where he’s not responsible for the stability of the multiverse, something that is a life and death situation, while leading the Spider Society and already has a lot on his plate. But unfortunately that’s his life now. He’s given up too much to stop now

The last thing he needs is a partner who’s overly optimistic and doesn’t see from his perspective. The fate of the multiverse is in his hands after all

He’s been misunderstood his whole life. He needs his partner to just be present and listen to him and not tell him to keep his chin up when he’s not in the right state of mind for it. He needs someone who understands the gravity of his responsibilities

📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I’ve mentioned this before but I’ll say it again. Miguel suffers from insomnia and gets repetitive nightmares of the multiverse collapsing one day. Sometimes his mind constantly relives the moment of his daughter fading away in his arms.

He just can’t get a rest from that.

But after being with you, they do eventually calm down. Listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, nestling in his arms or on his chest really helps calm his nerves.

Call me Miguel’s psychologist the way I yap about his fucked up mental state. I wanna write Miguel having some sort of melt down while reader comforts him but I know no one wants to read that 💀 properly will post it on ao3

Here’s the NSFW version if you’re interested

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @patchesofwork @monarchberrysblog @miguelbaby @swiftyangx12 @tarjapearce @smokeywhalee @lazyjellyfish300 @ghost-lantern @jadeloverxd @scaleniusrm @wandasfifthwife @ultravioletrayz @theorphicangel

Anyways, I’m logging off and going to bed

- Ayrus xox

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nhlclover · 2 months

Text

battlefield | matthew knies

word count: 1.02k

summary: you and matthew get into an argument, testing the strength of your relationship.

warnings: angst, arguing

notes: finally getting around to old requests…

The air in your apartment was thick and heavy, tension hanging in the air like an oppressive fog. Each breath felt like a burden. A simple disagreement that started an hour ago now had you and Matthew caught in a heated argument, ensnared in a tangled web of emotions that refused to dissipate.

The fiery argument was fueled by the pent-up frustrations and grievances the pair of you held. You took turns shooting your words across the room, each sentiment increasingly more bitter than the last. Each accusation is aimed at the heart, both of you letting your anger get the best of the situation and just wanting to cause pain. It was a standoff with neither of you wanting to concede.

As the argument reached its crescendo, a sense of fragility now hung in the air. You sighed, exasperated. Your cheeks stained with tears and your lungs tight with anxiety.

“I can’t argue anymore, Matt.” You say softly.

You were curled up on the couch, knees pulled into your chest, while Matthew stood at a considerable distance across the room. He leaned on the island, the granite was cool against the clammy skin of his palms. The sound of you sniffling softly caused a crack to go through his chest.

“I…” You breathed, your voice trailing off. You struggled to find the right words to convey the turmoil churning in your stomach. “I think I need some space.”

He looked up at you, your frame squeezed into a tight ball. “What does that mean, y/n?” Matthew asks.

His face was so delicate like your next words could shatter him if you weren’t too careful. “I mean I think I need to some space for a bit. Just to sort through my thoughts.”

Matthew pushes off the counter, heading to the front hall. You spring up from the couch, following him. In the foyer, Matt shoves his feet into a pair of sneakers, yanking his coat off the rack.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he grabs his car keys of the key rack.

“Giving you space.” He replies.

The door slams behind him as he heads for the parking garage. Getting in his car, he had no destination in mind. He let his internal GPS take him wherever. Soon enough, he was pulling into the driveway of a familiar home. Matthew parked his car in the driveway, the engine clicking as it cooled down. He sat for a moment, staring blankly through the windshield before getting out and going to the front door.

Upon opening the door, John was met with a sad shell of his teammate. He opened the door wider, allowing Matthew to enter. He followed John into the familiar living room, sinking onto the couch. John’s gaze was fixed on Matthew.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” He asked.

With a sigh, Matthew poured out his heart, retelling the last few days in which the tensions rose between the two of you, before finally boiling over into the argument from this morning. John listened intently, offering some words of wisdom once Matthew was finished.

“Sounds like it’s been a rough couple of days for you guys,” John said, Matthew nodding in agreement. “But disagreements are just opportunities for growth. You know how the two of you navigate these rough patches are just going to make you guys stronger.”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What if we don’t figure it out though?” Matthew asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

John couldn’t help but chuckle softly, recognizing the anxiety of going through an argument in a young relationship.

“It might not be easy, but you’ll get there. You’ve got to be patient with each other, try and see her point of view. Remember you’re a team. You’re in this together.” John said.

A sense of clarity washed over Matthew, John’s words aiding Matthew in navigating this. John’s sage advice was born from years of experience and Matthew took comfort in knowing that John knew what he was talking about.

Before long, the familiar sound of boisterous laughter and shrieks filled the home. John’s kids enter the room, having just returned from school. Matthew found himself drawn into their world, the simple joy of their company offering a welcome distraction.

As the evening wore on, Matthew lost track of time, the hours slipping away as he played hide and seek with the Tavares children, as well as being invited to stay for dinner.

Back at your apartment, you were still sitting on the sofa, nerves wracking your body. Matthew hadn't called or texted. You believed he was safe, that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. But your heart was still in your stomach as you watched the time tick by.

When you heard the front door clicking open, you sprang up from the couch, meeting your boyfriend in the front hall where he was removing his shoes.

“Where were you?” You ask, your voice a little louder than you intended. “You didn’t call, you didn’t text…Nothing! I was so worried Matt!”

You launched into a tirade, your words sharp with frustration as you spewed out every single anxious thought you’d imagined since he left. Matthew let you vent your frustrations, upset with the fact that he had been gone for the last 6 hours. When you finally fell silent, Matthew spoke.

“I’m fine.” He said softly. “I just went somewhere to clear my head.”

You fell quiet, not quite knowing what to say next. The pair of you stood there, looking at one another as the tension slowly seemed to dissipate.

“I’m sorry…” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay, y/n.” He reassured, stepping towards you. “We both needed time to breathe.”

There’s another beat of silence before you speak again. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. And for what I said, I’m sorry Matt.”

“Me too. We both said things we shouldn’t have.” Matthew replies. Matthew reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

His touch sends a wave of warmth through you, You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. The words of John from earlier reverberate in Matthew’s mind. You guys were a team and you were in this together. It was going to take a whole lot more than an argument to separate the two of you.

#matthew knies #matthew knies imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #toronto maple leafs #matthew knies x reader

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ohworm-writes · 4 months

Text

「✰」 ━━ CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE CHARACTER FAMILY OUTLINES

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : references to sex, references to breeding kinks, heavy fluff, children, both pregnancy and adoption scenarios, toxic family relationship dynamics, minimal cursing, brief mention of Ghost and Farah's traumas, brief mention of transphobia and homophobia ]

SYNOPSIS In my opinion, what having a family with an assortment of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters would look like, be it how many kids they would have, their reasonings for having kids, their relationships with their kids, et cetera.

WORD COUNT 6.8k

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

Three sons and one daughter - ages ten, seven, five, and one

I'm certain we're all more than aware of this man's painfully obvious and present breeding kink, so it's no surprise to anyone that he would want to have a lot of children to call his own. He won't just be satisfied with one or two children - he's always wanted to have a full, bustling home, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to make that a reality.

Every child of his is planned, both in pregnancy and adoption scenarios. He meticulously calculates and works to space each child out a certain range and number of years apart from one another in an effort to give himself extended experience with each developmental stage - or so he claims.

He wanted kids of his own, he decided, the second he met you, and he just hopes and prays that you'll be open to the concept of having quite a number of them. And, in his favor, you do and indulge him in his little fantasies.

And, in the ingenious words of @ghostlywhiskey , "i said that man has SWIMMERS AND THOSE MFS ARE PRICE BOYS". So, there's a very obvious patten that begins to form as more and more members are added to his little family. But, of course, there's one token daughter added into the mix, who he loves all the same as he does his boys.

In my eyes, the ideal father figure. He's extremely open and honest with his children, listens and talks with them whenever they have an issue or question, is very understanding and accepting overall, and, more than anything, works tirelessly to be a present, positive figure in their lives.

Because of all of the experience that he has with his own children, this results in the members of Task Force 141 and associated parties going to him for help or to have him answer questions they may have around their own children.

He tries to be as present of a father as he can be, given the challenges and distance that comes with his line of work, but always makes an effort, at the very least, call his kids whenever he can to ask about how they're doing, what they're up to, et cetera.

Refuses to talk about his job or entertain his children in the very idea of joining the military - the horrors he's seen is not in the slightest something he wants his children to witness for themselves. He knows the job best, and he will not allow any of his children to join.

Raises his sons right - they're respectful, mind their manners, don't start fights (but finish them, should the need arise) and instills all the necessary core morals and values they'll need to be good people when they grow up. All the same, he teaches his daughter not to take shit from anyone.

LIEUTENANT SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Three daughters and one child (non-binary) - ages ten, six, three, and nine

Originally, he had never even spent a moment in time thinking about or entertaining the possibility of him having children, much less actively putting effort into reaching that goal. Especially when considering his own history, he can't even begin to see himself as a father, fearing he'll end up like his own.

So, when you get pregnant for the first time on complete accident/enthusiastically bring up the idea to him of adopting a child seemingly out of nowhere to him, he's completely shell-shocked. This is something he's ever put considerable thought into, and now it's being dropped into his lap without a moment to process it or breathe.

So, when he lays eyes on his first little girl for the first time, he's terrified. He's a dad now, whether he wants to or is ready for it or not. And no, it's not like he didn't tell you to get an abortion/refuse to sign the papers, but he isn't fully ready for such a heavy responsibility yet. But when he has her in his arms for the first time, he's done for.

After the first, he's so open and willing - and, quite frankly, pushing for - trying for/adopting another child. Yes, he was scared for his life to become a dad at first, but now that he's one now, he can't help but want another - and best you believe that his children are his absolute world.

Curse of the military. That's it, that's the tweet. He had all girls, plus, of course, his one gender non-conforming, non-binary kid, and all of them have equal ownership over his heart.

He's the perfect girl-dad, letting them do whatever they want with him - their own personal dress-up doll, if you will. Painting his nails, putting make-up on him, styling his hair, making him attend tea-parties and playing make-pretend. Whatever they want him to do, he does it.

When his second-oldest comes out to him (they came to him first before they did you), his heart absolutely melts. To know that his kid trusts him so wholeheartedly and isn't scared to share such a private thing with him lets him know just how good of a dad he is.

He's quick to use the right pronouns, allocates a separate room for them, helps them go shopping for clothes and items they may want, tests out new names for them should they want to, et cetera.

He's not at all a strict parent, as much as one might believe. He's stoic, cold, and cruel, sure - but that's to everyone but his family. For them? He's the biggest pushover in the world. If his children want anything, best believe he's doing everything in his power to fulfill their wishes.

SERGEANT JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

One son and one daughter - ages four and five

He's always wanted children, that mindset and dream having been set long before he ever even joined the military in the first place. He used to take care of and watch his nieces, nephews, and younger cousins a lot when he was younger, so it eventually evolved into him wanting little rascals of his own as time went on - to be able to nurture, care for, and have fun with.

So, when the opportunity arises to actually start a family of his own, something that he's always dreamed of, he's so giddy. In complete honesty, he's practically beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet, so willing and ready to make this into a reality. He has his own fears and anxieties, yes, but his excitement far outweighs it.

Both of his children are planned, of course, wanting them to be close in age as he can get them, and he's ecstatic that he gets to have both a boy and a girl. He gets the best of both worlds that way! And, when he finally gets to hold each in his arms for the first time, his heart shatters, melts, and crumbles in the best ways possible.

He isn't just a solider, a boyfriend, or a husband anymore - he's a dad now.

He's such a fun dad in general, always joking around with his kids, letting them - safely - do things that they aren't supposed to do, messing with them, taking them out for desert and sweets, et cetera.

But, as much as he's the "fun dad", that doesn't mean that he's any less strict. If his kids mess up or do something bad, he's often the one responsible for determining punishment, telling them off, and teaching them not to make the same mistake again.

His work is demanding, yes, and that often takes him away from you, his partner, and his kids for long periods of time, but he always comes back, ready to be a dad again and put "Soap" on the backburner.

The perfect role model for his kids, in all honesty - the best combination between a best friend and a parental figure. His kids tell him everything and they aren't scared of him to keep secrets from him, always telling him the truth without shame or hesitation.

SERGEANT KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

One son and one daughter - ages seven

Both of children are twins

Having children wasn't something he had ever planned for, in his mind. Not to say that he never entertained the idea of having children of his own, nor is it to say something that he's against, either. He simply hadn't ever thought about making it a reality before.

But, when the opportunity to have/adopt children comes up into his life, it's welcomed, allowing himself to go with the flow of things and let them play out as is. He thinks about it a lot more now, daydreaming about what his child's personality will be like, what they'll look like, who they'll like more...

And then boom! Twins!

He's starstruck when he first gets the news that he'll be having/adopting twins. It's like a two-for-one deal, or so he says, genuinely shocked and excited at the same time. The way he sees it, his kids will always have a best friend (or, a partner-in-crime) and he's all for it.

Twins are a lot, he knows, but that doesn't mean he isn't up for the challenge. If anything, it only spurs him on to push to be the best dad he could ever possibly be.

For better or for worse, his kids adopt his sarcastic nature as their own and increase it by tenfold. It's his fault, given that whenever his kids are around, he's talking to them as if they'd understand his points and smart comments. They don't, most of the time, but they know their dad's tone, and they're quick to match it.

Takes the most time off out of anyone else in Task Force 141 to spend with his family if and when he can allocate it. He wants to be as present of a dad as possible, and if that means taking work home when he could easily finish it on base and then come home, maybe a day or two later, he's doing it.

Very adamant on having days out with his kids, be it for the purpose of a mental health day or just for fun. Takes them out to get breakfast and lunch, plus going to do another activity. Maybe the park, the playground, watch a movie at the cinema, go to the zoo/aquarium, et cetera.

He's not a super strict parent but that doesn't mean he isn't going to disciple his children if they misbehave or do something wrong. His punishments are lax, focused more towards talking out the issue that giving harsh lessons.

STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL

One son - aged sixteen

She and her wife decided that they really wanted to have a kid of their own a few years into their marriage and, especially given that neither of them aren't getting any younger and didn't necessarily have the energy, time, or willingness to take on the challenge of pregnancy for themselves, they choose the more sensible option available and adopt.

It's a long, deliberate process that they have to go through in order to be so much as be approved for being able to adopt, but, once that hurdle is overcome, the two of them waste no time and immediately begin their search for the newest member of their own little family, allocating time to meticulously decide who they'll, inevitably, choose.

Their hearts end up settling on a little boy whose four years old, somehow resembling the both of them in different ways - be it personality wise or by appearance.

The two of them decide that they want to be able to escape and skip the issues that come packaged with newborns and toddlers, but also have a hand in the development process of their son, thus explaining the age they chose to adopt him at. This accomplishes both of these "goals" they have in mind, and it works out beautifully in their favor.

No matter their son's ethnic background, the two of them make a conscious effort to try and introduce practices, traditions, holidays, ideals, et cetera from their son's culture into their own as a means to keep him connected with his own past and history.

Although her job is connected with the military and does, to an extent, seperate her from her families for periods of time, that doesn't diminish the relationship she has with her son. He's fascinated with his mom's career, allowing for lengthy, in-depth discussion about what her job actually entails with him.

She and her wife are such good moms in general - always supporting him in everything he wants to do and encouraging him a thousand times over. There isn't a second in his life where he isn't being supported or loved, but it by his moms or the numerous different adult figures in his life.

Laswell gets in a fair bit of trouble with her wife for not disciplining her son in any way, shape, or form. She may have no issue with doing so with the military individuals she works with - she can be scary and intimidating when she wants to be - but with her son? She's absolutely a pushover.

Quits smoking the second she and her wife make plans towards actually adopting. It's a harsh line she draws, and one she abides by without hesitation or question.

VALERIA GARZA

None

Now, this isn't because I want to exclude her from this concept for any reasoning whatsoever, but rather because I can't really see her having or wanting any children in the first place. She's "El Sin Nombre", after all. And, in her defense, the cartel isn't necessarily the best enviroment for a child to grow up or develop in - surprising nobody.

She knows this fact better than anyone, and, having sworn her life to her role in Las Almas and the cartel, she chooses to not have any children. Additionally, she isn't going to be irresponsible and make herself vulnerable like that where, to have someone to love and care fore, only for the possibility of them being used as leverage against her later on hanging over her head, putting them in danger.

And, in any case, she has a breeding kink to make up for it, eh?

But, in all seriousness, as wonderful as I think she could possibly be with children in general, I doubt she plans on having or adopting children of her own unless she actually makes the move to leave the business of the cartel altogether - which, lets face it, with who she is and the role that she plays, is highly unlikely.

To make up for this, let's talk about her relationship with kids in general - be it the children of Las Almas and nieces and nephews that she has and interacts with.

She fits the "cool aunt" persona to a tee, always bringing gifts and/or cash to her younger family members, getting them whichever they desire, playing games with them, talking shit about people and listening to them vent, et cetera.

If the children have a problem with someone and, if aren't family, she has no issue doing something about it, be it using a scare tactic on them or completely removing the other person from the equation in more serious scenarios.

All the kids love her, no matter if they're family or if they know her or not. If she isn't busy and one of her men have a child of their own that they need to tend to while they're on the clock, she'll let the kid stay around in her office, so long as they don't disturb the peace.

VLADIMIR MAKAROV

One son and one daughter - ages eleven and five

Now, as cold, cruel, stoic, and heartless of a character that Makarov is, I personally believe that there would be select factors that would influence him to actually want children. Technical, albeit, and not for the sake of having someone to nurture and care for - at least, in the beginning - but I do believe that, for his own reasons, he would still want children as he progresses on later in his career and plans.

The only reason I could ever see for him to so much as bring up the concept of having children, in a way that makes sense when considering his character, would be due to the result of a close encounter that has him just barely scraping out of whatever altercation with his life to spare and hold onto.

He decides then and there that he wants to have a child - a son, specifically - who will be able to take his place and lead the groups that he controls and reigns over when he, inevitably, passes because, like he stated: "even I'm replaceable". It's a morbid phrase, yes, but it makes sense for him to have this be his reasoning.

He wants his replacement to be his own, too, and not for one of men to simply be promoted after he passes. After all, their ideologies, morals, and values could change over time and alter from his own, and he can't have that. However, if he were to have a child, he could foster and tailor their beliefs to match his own.

And besides, there's a certain charm that comes with saying his son is going to be the next in line. So, to his favor, he gets a first-born son, just as he had wished. His daughter, however, is completely accidental and unplanned/an abrupt decision when she is born/adopted. (In the context of pregnancy, though, its entirely his fault that she's conceived out of nowhere - wear protection, folks.)

For the longest time, his relationship with his son is, for lack of better wording, toxic - but this does change! If only with your intervention. All he wants in the beginning is for his son to be able to take over for him in the future - that being his sole purpose. And, unfortunately, he makes that a known fact.

Brings his son in with him to work on base often, working to teach and show to him the empire that he'll be taking over once his dad is gone. He gets a front-row view to the horrors his father is behind and in control of, be it the planning process for strategized and organized attacks, his cruel methods for dealing with traitors, and otherwise.

As much as he might, at heart, want to be a boy-dad, his relationship with his son is so strained and, frankly, falling apart, even if he refuses to acknowledge it, and so toxic in nature that it's only natural he becomes a girl-dad when his daughter is finally born. It's unfair, yes, but it's the truth of the matter.

He keeps his daughter far away from his work, shielding her completely from the badness of the world - the badness that he himself helps to create. She's his his pride and joy, and she's such a daddy's girl, leaving his son to fall to you, his other parental figure, for comfort and support - that of which his dad fails to provide.

COLONEL KÖNIG

Four daughters - ages two, three, seven, and fourteen

Interestingly enough, he's actually always quietly desired and yearned for a family of his own, though, he's never had any open discussions about it until it came to you. It's almost funny, the way that he's so awkward and tends to shy away from others any chance he's allowed to, and yet, he wants nothing more than a sizeable family for himself.

To have someone to fight for, to come back home to... it's all a soldier ever wants - himself included. And, for him, that includes a family that doesn't just consist of him and you (as content and happy as he is with it for now). The mere prospect of coming home to children of his own who can greet him and adore him is all he could ever ask for.

Though, even given this, he's especially nervous to actually become a father. He overthinks it a lot, wondering if his kids will even like him, going over the multitude of different ways that he could mess up even when he has no reason to. Because after his first, that fear melts away into enthusiasm.

Four children, especially when they're all girls, is a lot, yes, but he handles it with ease. He doesn't let the stress of it get to him, simply taking everything in stride and dealing with it rationally. He wants to preserve the positive relationship he has with his daughters, and approaching things from a logical standpoint is just the way to do it.

The true curse of the military - all girls, and so many of them, too. His younger children are all girly to an extent, too, so he's no stranger at a tea party and getting his make-up and nails done messily by his daughters. His oldest, although she may not be as girly, still has her moments, be it certain musicians maybe that she's forced her dad to listen to the entire discography of.

His girls love use him as a prop and character in their bouts of playing "make pretend". He's played a tree, standing still for them to climb all over, a dragon, protecting them from all of the bugs and critters that threatens to offend the, and even a race car, holding onto one or two of them as tight as he can and breaking into a sprint. It's strange and exhausting, sure, but he loves it.

Teaches his daughters to stick up for themselves - it's one of the first lessons he ever teaches them. Whether it be in terms of don't let people see you as a pushover, don't let anyone tell you what you can or cannot do, or stick up for yourself by any means necessary, he instills those ideals into his kids. Teaches his eldest how to fight, too - per her request - as another measure and precaution.

Although being apart of KorTac and being a colonel in general keep him busy and occupied and away from his family, that doesn't stop him from trying his hardest to be with them. He sends each and every one of his daughters, with the inclusion of yourself, gifts he picks up while he's away that reminds him of you all, just as a means to remind you all that he's here and he loves you.

COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES

Two daughters and two children (transgender) - ages seventeen, six, and thirteen

Both of his trans children, female-to-male, are twins

In his daydreams, he's always imagined himself with a family of his own. A nuclear family, the American ideal - married with two and a half kids, a dog, a big house with a white-picket fence, a stable job. The whole lot. That's all he's ever had in mind for himself and he yearns to make it a reality.

So, when the topic of children come up after the married, dog, house, and job things are already figured out, he's eager to speak his mind and give his input on the matter. He's got the biggest, most lopsided grin spread out across his face when he lays eyes on his eldest daughter for the first time, and that only solidifies his dreams.

Though, ironically enough, he always had in his mind that he'd have more boys than girls. He loves his daughters wholeheartedly and without shame, mind you, but... still, the sentiment remains. He always imagined himself with one, maybe two or three boys - someone he could play catch or watch sports with.

He doesn't get that, until he does, and his twins come out to him (albeit, at separate ages) as trans ftm. Of course, the whole "trans" thing is new to him, and while he may be a little clueless, seeing how happy it makes the two of his kids is more than enough to convince him him to put in effort and be the most supportive dad he can be.

I don't want anyone coming to me saying "oh, he's transphobic" because no he's not. He may fit that all-American persona of his to a tee, but I refuse to say that he would go as far to be transphobic or homophobic, especially with his own children. (Also, I'm petty, so you get two of them).

He fights and works hard to be present in his children's lives. He may be the Commander and CEO of Shadow Company, but that doesn't mean his men can't function without him from time to time. His family means everything to him, all of his time off being spent towards treating them.

Not the parent who pushes for his children to each be involved in a million after-school activities, but encourages them to take up something. His oldest plays volleyball, his second-oldest plays baseball, his second-youngest plays the drums, and his youngest dances. Takes them all to practice and helps them however he can.

Genuinely just copy and paste Jeff Sadecki from Yellowjackets and that's him as a parent. Except... with less of the drama. He's dedicated to being involved in his children's lives, making memories and having fun with them, telling horrible dad jokes from time to time, and whatever else.

SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA

One child (agender) - aged sixteen

He never actually planned on or anticipated becoming a father in the first place, more focused on dedicating his efforts towards his career and not spending more than a passing thought on creating a family. Not to say that he doesn't want one, it's just a concept he hasn't spent too much time thinking about or worrying over.

So, this means that you have to be the one to bring it up to him. And, granted, it somewhat catches him off guard - you want to try for a baby/consider adoption with him? Since when? It throws him off, to be honest, and he genuinely has to take some time to reflect and decide if this is actually something that he wants.

And, in your favor, it is.

He's somewhat nonchalant about the whole thing, not really realizing how big of an event it is until you're close to the due date/you're approved for adoption. And then it hits him full force that, yeah - sooner than later, he's actually going to become a dad and deal with the responsibilities of one and have a child of his own.

It's humbling, funnily enough, and he revaluates his priorities when it comes to his career, you, and child-to-be.

Even though he never anticipated or saw himself as someone who could accurately fill the role of a father, he's a good one. More akin to a close friend at times whereas others he can more accurately be described as a mentor, but it's important for fathers to share both of those factors, in a way. Which he absolutely does.

His child comes out to him before they reach double-digits, and its another moment that he has to pause for. Of course he's going to love them unconditionally, no matter if they identify as something else or go by different pronouns or want to use a different name, it's simply something he hadn't expected.

Doesn't really at all punish his child if they do something wrong. He'll have a conversation with them, sure, but it never truly extends to anything beyond that. Simply a "hey, don't do that again, okay?" and moving on with life. All that matters is that they understand and acknowledge their faults, in his eyes.

Involves himself in whatever his child is interested in and tries to understand it as best he can. They have a sport they're really into? He's buying them merch and watching matches or games with them. They're really into a certain video game? Start up a new save file, he'd love to play. Genuinely super supportive.

Does not at all plan on having another child. He's content with the one and, quite frankly, even one can be a lot at times. He can't count how many times he's had to go to those parent support groups just to ensure he's being as good of a dad as he can be.

COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Four sons and one daughter - ages twelve, eleven, nine, and eight

His oldest sons are twins

The absolute definition of a family man. He, somewhat akin to Price, always imagined himself with a family of his own later down the line in his life - a large, lively one, too. He grew up in a larger household himself with a number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older, and he always imagined the same for his future family.

He's so enthusiastic about it, too. He isn't scared or worried at all, confident in his own abilities to take care of children, given his own extended experience, so he has little to no fear in what he'll be like as a parent or his own capabilities. He knows what he'll need to do, how to do it, what to buy, what to say, et cetera, so he's confident.

He doesn't really have a plan for what their ages will be, more so allowing everything to flow naturally, but he can't deny the fact that he has his own picture in mind for what he wants his family to look like. Ironically, he always imagined himself with more girls than boys, but it seems like life had... a different plan for him.

He loves it, though. He's extremely good with newborns and toddlers especially, and when he laid eyes on his twins for the first time, holding both of them to him, it was over. Plain and simple. With the first step taken, he can now fully immerse himself in being a father and cultivating the lives of his children, and that's all he could ask for.

His boys are rowdy. Especially his oldest twins and his youngest son, his eleven-year-old acting much tamer and calmer in comparison, but still has his moments. They roughhouse with one another, mess with each other, talk shit - the whole lot. Typical sibling behavior, yes, but they had so much energy.

Takes a lot of time off to be with his family when he can spare it. If he isn't physically out for an operation and instead is at the Los Vaqueros base, he sometimes will bring one or two of his children to stay in his office while he works. That is, if he doesn't up and leave to go home the second the opportunity arises.

Defiantly the one responsible for disciplining his children and dishing out punishment. It's not to say that he's cruel or mean in any sense, but he can be strict. If they do something wrong, he's quick to decide on a punishment that appropriate and relevant, dedicated to correcting that behavior as swiftly as possible.

He's an absolute pushover with his daughter, though. Not to say that he doesn't love his boys, because he does, but he'd do anything for her. Tea parties? Dress up? Make believe? You name it, no matter how embarrassing or emasculating it may be, and he's doing it if his little girl asks.

Messes around with his boys a lot. He has a positive relationship with all of them, one that's open and honest, which leaves room for him to be able to roughhouse and taunt and poke fun at them from time to time. They might have to be smart with their own words and responses, but he's making smartass, cheeky remarks whenever he can with a grin.

OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KEELER

One daughter - aged eleven

He's thought about having children before, yes, but never in a realistic context. For him, in the past, it's always been more of a "let me imagine a scenario of how myself and a future family would look" but never actively taking strides or realistically think about how he would achieve that.

So, when you bring the topic up to him, he kind of stills and... actually thinks about it. There's a difference between putting yourself in a scenario and imagining it, and actually taking steps to make it into a reality. He sort of panics, too, because... would he actually make a good dad?

He's the most apprehensive and anxious person out of anyone when it comes to considering the path of parenthood. Of course, he agrees, more than willing to try for a baby/go through the adoption process with you, but he's endlessly terrified of messing things up.

Even when he actually gets to meet and hold his daughter for the first time - he's a man who has no shame in crying, because he absolutely does when he sees her - that paranoia remains. But even so, it solidifies his goal to become the best father he can be for his little girl.

So clueless at first at how to even approach fatherhood, purchasing so many parents books and listening to an abundance of podcasts and going to classes and everything of the like. He's confident in most aspects, sure, but parenthood is something he's never dealt with in the past - it's no surprise he wants to do everything in his power to be the best dad he can be.

As anxious as he is, though, he, in my opinion, is probably the best father he could possibly ever dream to be. He's attentive to his daughter's wants and needs, can gauge her emotions correctly and acts accordingly, is responsible in terms of taking precautions to keep her safe, and he's present as much as he can be.

Number one cheerleader in everything she does. Whether it be getting a passing grade or an outstanding one on a test, he's hyping her up. If she joins and becomes a part of a particular activity of interest, he's taking her out to a celebratory dinner. All words of encouragement and praise from him.

Is a very active an present parent, too. Takes her out on little father-daughter days whenever he can to wherever she wants to go. The mall to look at the one obscure candle store? Sure, he's down. The zoo to go make up conversations between the animals. Absolutely. He loves hanging out with her, and seeing the way she lights up whenever he offers to take her out is all he could ever dream of.

COMMANDER FARAH AHMED KARIM

Two sons and one daughter - ages seven, four, and eight months

In the beginning, actually, she was very opposed to the concept of having/adopting children. Given her involvement with the ULF and that the current climate in Urzikstan was far from safe to raise any child in, she had no reason to even entertain the thought. Especially considering her own past, she was against it.

For a while, most conversations of having or starting a family were shut down by her - she yearned for it in the back of her mind, sure, but it wasn't a realistic goal. That was until she and Samara had a conversation about the topic, Samara telling her that while, yes, there were dangers to it, there's nothing more fulfilling than family.

So, after long deliberations, she began to consider it more heavily, leading to discussions where she finally agreed. She has her own reservations, fears, and anxieties about it, yes, but considering all the work she's done, she's allowed to have this. To have a child or children, to make her own family that loves her unconditionally.

She keeps her family completely separate and distanced from her work. As much as she's passionate about what she does, there's that lingering fear in the back of her mind that, one day, her family could get hurt or even possibly used against her as leverage if they're discovered. So, there's a clean separation between the two.

But it's all worth it when she meets her first born son for the first time. She's playing such important roles in her life - the Commander of the ULF, a resistance fighter, someone associated with Task Force 141, and one of the few key figures tasked with liberating her country in its entirety. But, now, she's more than that. She's a mom.

Even though she's never had children of her own before, she handles motherhood like a seasoned professional. Even before her other two children, she never got too overwhelmed with the work and responsibilities that come with being a parent, handling everything with a level head and a calm voice, turning out in her favor.

Though, she's somewhat a bit stricter with her children - not in the sense of being overbearing and not trusting them, or even that she has high expectations and standards for them. Rather, she wants to ensure the safety of her children and that their childhoods never turn out like her own, so she takes extra precautions.

She doesn't actually send her children to school, rather taking time to teach them herself - with your aid, of course. It's partially for those same reasons of fear and wanting to protect her children, but she's actually really good at it. She's taught her children how to write, how to read, how to speak two different languages... it's a way that shows how invested she is in her family.

As serious as she can be with her work, she's much more laid back and relaxed when it comes to her family - just another perk and upside, she supposes. With all the stresses she deals with, being able to come home to her sons and daughter, being overwhelmed with love - it's rewarding in a way she's never experienced before.

NIKOLAI

Two daughters - ages eight and three

He's always imagined himself with children, in complete honesty, even when he was younger - to have maybe one to three of his own. To your luck, he's open about it too, so he's actually the one to bring up the idea to you in the beginning, having no shame whatsoever in his willingness to try for/adopt a child... or two or three.

He isn't scared to become a parent, per se, nor does he have many anxieties or worries about becoming one, but there is still that subtle worry in the back of his mind that he won't be the most fit parent.

Everyone jokes about how he can be reckless and unethical, and he enjoys the banter, but it does make him self-conscious and second guess his own ability to be an adequate father.

He doesn't really consider or worry about what ages his children are, simply allowing things to fall into place naturally, as they should. He may have imagined himself with children in his own daydreams, sure, but there was never any clear specifics for age or gender he had in mind.

But once he actually gets to meet his daughters for the first time, those worries fade away partially - they still linger, yes, but for the most part he lets them simmer on the backburner, not allowing them to interfere with him as he directs his focus away from worrying and more towards becoming the father his girls deserve.

His daughters are just as much of a menace as he is. Maybe not in the "I deal with sketchy people on a daily basis and have done some questionable things" kind of way, but they have their own mischievous streaks like their father. Be it orchestrating pranks or smaller acts of the like, sometimes they even outshine the father.

He's playful by nature, yes, and he is with his girls, but you'll also never meet a more protective parent than him. He may be sly and smug and appear all cool and collected outwardly, but when it comes to his daughters, he's doing everything in his power to protect them from anything, be it people... or ants.

Likes to be his daughters' own personal jungle gym, letting the two of them hold onto him and climb all over him without a care in the world. Additionally, that means he makes for the perfect mode of transport for them, too - having them cling onto him as he walks around, moving them from one place to the other.

He can act like a child in his own right, but he's still a good father nonetheless. In line with that protective nature, he does everything he can to both foster a positive relationship and set rules and boundaries. Bed times, chores, punishments, et cetera - he's in charge of those things, and, while he isn't strict, he's responsible.

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months

Text

concert, part 2

part 1 | part 2 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw smut)

The concert is a fucking blast. König and I are headbanging in unison to the songs blaring from the speakers and I love seeing the wild expression on his face. It’s exactly how I imagined it. Lorna Shore is also an amazing live experience, my god. I think I’m gonna have a bunch more lines on my face because every breakdown is bringing out my stank face.

Most of the concert goes well, without any incidents. Most of it.

If it wasn’t for the guy who almost knocked me off my feet running past us to the moshpit. König catches me when I topple over, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me up again. The look on his face as he stares down the guy that just shoots a little “sorry” in my direction is downright abysmal that for a moment even I get a bit scared.

And I grab his arm putting my whole body weight on it when I see that he wants to go after the guy. “König, please, I’m fine.”, I shout at him, pulling on his arm to get his attention on me.

He stops, turns around and leans down, coming face to face with me. His eyes search it for any indication that would go against my claim, his hand cupping my cheek, the thumb softly caressing just once. And I just want him to do it again.

“I swear, I’m fine, it happens. I’m not made of glass.”, I explain to him and do a little dancydancy to demonstrate that my limbs are still working.

That pulls a little chuckle from him and he finally relaxes. Nodding, pulling back, and then he straightens back up, re-taking his position right behind me like my own personal bodyguard. And I lean into him again, shamelessly so, somebody might even call it ‘snuggling into him’.

I’m feeling touchy and I maybe would have had a guilty conscience if he didn’t do the same. His hand skimming over my naked arm, him pulling me against him when somebody pushes past us again. His big burly arms framing me. And it feels good. Oh, so good.

Luckily the heavy music blasting from the speakers is distracting me from the attractive man at my side, so I can keep some of my sanity while I try and tell myself that this totally is just two strangers going to a concert and not at all a date. Mh-mh, not a date.

I push those thoughts away and will myself to stay in the moment and let the music carry me away. I’m already getting tired and sweaty from all the jumping, shouting and moshing I’ve been doing, but also the concert is slowly but surely coming to an end.

I jump up a bit, going on my tiptoes, but I can’t see the band members on stage through the sea of bodies in front of me. König leans down, one of his hands on my shoulder.

“Everything okay?”, he asks me, loud against the noise, his breath skitting over the shell of my ear, and I ignore the tickling feeling that this elicits.

I turn to him speaking into his ear as well. “I don’t see anything.”, I complain to him. “But this is my favourite song.”

“You wanna sit on my shoulders? I bet you’d have a better view from up there.”, he suggests, patting said shoulders. They do look like a very comfy seat. Or a comfy leg rest. *cough cough* Get yourself together and the mind out of the gutter, I tell myself.

“Uh, sure.”, I say, totally not sure how this will work. He pulls his hair to the side and just leans down a bit, hoists me up at my waist and places me on his right shoulder. He holds up his hands and I grab them as I reposition myself, slinging my leg over the other shoulder, so that my thighs are now resting on both of them.

I didn’t factor in that I’m only wearing a skirt. The fabric is bunched up, which means that there are only the two thin layers of my panties and my tights between his neck and my pussy. Great. Just peachy.

His hands grab my thighs, his fingers digging into me, holding me steady and save. I’m so high up, so I can see everything, but right now my attention and more importantly the attention of my body is on the man whose head is between my thighs – so to speak.

“All good?”, he shouts up at me and I shout back a “yes”. Holding onto his head, making sure not to pull on his hair. But I can’t ignore the way it feels silkily smooth underneath my fingertips. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it and focus on the concert going on in front of me, joining in the refrain of ‘Dancing like Flames’.

And so the 'Pain Remains' Trilogy plays out with me on his shoulders experiencing the end of the concert with maybe the best seat in the house.

“Did you have fun?”, he asks as we leave the venue.

I’m doing double time on my steps to keep up with his long strides and the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through my veins turns my almost running into skipping along. “Yes, I did.”, I say smiling up at him.

A cold gust of wind blows through the street and a shiver runs down my spine which makes me slow down and cross my arms in front of my body.

“Wait, here, have my jacket.”, he says, slowing down as well, already putting the worn leather onto my shoulders.

I pull the piece of clothing tighter around me, getting enveloped in his scent while the smooth fabric of the inner lining skims against my skin. “Thanks.” We’re making our way to the car and he opens the door for me again, just like he did before.

“So, do you feel like you kept up with me today?”, I ask him then, a sly smile forming on my lips. He shoots me a look, an intense one, before he closes the car door. The look alone should have totally shut me up. But it doesn’t.

“So, how does it feel to still be out past your bedtime, old man?”, I continue as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t even look at me while he puts the seatbelt on and pushes the key into the ignition. “I’m glad you were more well behaved when we were at the concert.”, he says, a light gravel in his voice. A sound that does stuff to me. A sound that makes me brave and stupid.

"Do you know what a brat is?", I ask him and amusement paints my voice. I’m enjoying this way too much right now. Teasing him in person is so much better than over text.

He fully sideeyes me, pulling up one of his brows, then he turns his head to look at me. His gaze is heated, but I can see the restraint in it as well. He slowly tilts his head to the side and at the same pace the grin on my face falters, melting away. The hairs in my neck are starting to stand up and I have to suppress a shiver of excitement. From him just looking at me like I'm prey, someone to chase down, someone to devour.

"I'm familiar with the concept.", he says nonchalantly, leaning a bit towards me, when one of the corners of his mouth tips up. "Do you know what a brat tamer is?", he asks, smirking at me. And my brain short-circuits. My jaw drops, my chin is on the floor, figuratively speaking.

He laughs, short and darkly, as I'm still recovering from the sentence he just dropped. He straightens back up and fiddles with the ignition until the car starts.

"Sit up straight and put your seatbelt on for me, Liebes.", he says, his voice getting all authoritative. The tone makes my spine stiffen up and I do as he told me. He laughs again, seeing how I'm following his orders, when he shifts the car into gear. Without even looking at me, he drawls: "Good girl.", and I fold like a goddamn lawn chair. The little sigh dropping from my lips telling him (and me) exactly how this is making me feel.

He doesn't say anything, so I glance at him while he pulls onto the street. The smirk on his face is cocky and self-indulgent, his hair is still swept to one side and my god, the jawline with the scruff 5 o'clock shadow is doing stuff to me. The mental image forming in my head is so not safe for work.

Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy. His strong hands have a tight grip on me, pushing me down into the soft sheets while he fucks me deep and slow, his hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly. Praise is falling from his lips, telling me that I'm his good girl, that I'm doing so well for him, that I feel so fucking good while his hand spanks my booty, alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.

His chuckle, the real König chuckling at me while driving, is pulling me from my dirty daydream and I can't help the blush forming on my cheeks. "Now where did you just drift off to?", he asks me.

"Nowhere.", I say, trying to deflect.

"Uh-huh.", he pulls up his brows, totally not believing me.

“Well, what did you expect when you told me-“ I lower my voice and mumble: “that you’re a brat tamer…” That pulls a laugh from him, a sound I’m already addicted to.

“You mean like when you told me that you’re a little brat?”, he throws back at me. “Two can play that game, Fräulein.”

I tilt my head to the side, but I can’t argue with that. “Touché.” I feel like we just dipped our toes into some unchartered territory that made everything a little bit more sexual than it already was, a little clearer where this is headed – probably sooner than later. Because even if we keep making jokes and bringing up our age difference (which I still think isn’t that bad), I can feel the pull of attraction towards him. And with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m sure he feels the same way.

We were flirty in our texts and we were touchy all evening. I remember the way my thighs hugged his neck when I sat on his shoulders. How his fingers dug into the pillowy flesh, holding me tight.

The way his arms closed around me, shielding me off from the people around us. Me shamelessly leaning into him, relishing the way his body feels against mine. How I felt safe at the concert with him as my personal bodyguard.

And every single thing heightened the feeling of need, of want, of desire that was already there when I saw him sitting at that table at the pub.

I try to hold off from squirming in my seat, having a hard time keeping my cool, especially when my eyes wander to him all the time while driving. How his knees almost graze the steering wheel, the way his knuckles strain when he grips it. His hair falling over the side of his face. The tattoos, the shirt he got hugging his biceps just the right way, just… every single detail.

I spend the ride home trying to keep my thoughts holy, but I can’t. His image and my imagination don’t seem to mix well.

He pulls up to my apartment complex, parking the car and turning the engine off, but he keeps the sound system running. He turns to me and the sentence I wanted to say gets stuck in my throat. I wanted to thank him for taking me to the concert, making me feel safe. Very obviously going out of his own comfort zone to accommodate me. Even when we still didn’t know each other for that long.

But the way he’s looking at me shuts me up before I can start talking. His gaze is intense, just like before and the effect is all the same. And I can’t tear my eyes from him, drinking him in.

“Don’t look at me like that.”, he says, not breaking eyecontact.

I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”

A little growl drops from his lips and the sound sends a wave of need between my legs. Like I even needed more of that. He leans a bit forward, inching closer and closer. “Like you want me to do something about this tension between us.”, he whispers, low and darkly.

“Maybe I do want that.”, I answer and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

His hands grab my face, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he presses his lips onto mine. His hold on me is soft, but the kiss is fiery. And for the first time I can really feel that he wants me as desperately as I want him.

I grab him, his t-shirt, pulling him against me. I can feel his broad chest under my fingertips, the warmth of his body, the hard muscles that I also was snuggled up against before. His leatherjacket falls from my shoulders and pools around my hips.

“Fuck.”, he grunts against my lips, letting one hand drop down to push the car seat back. He pulls me with him, onto his lap, my thighs spreading over it. His hand brushes down my back as his mouth finds mine once more to kiss me, feverish, demanding, needy. And I answer it with the same fervor, brushing my tongue against his, moaning as I taste him for the first time. The flavour of beer that we both drank cutting through his own scent.

He grabs my ass cheek, squeezing it through the fabric of my skirt and the touch is making me squirm in his lap, grinding onto him. I feel his hard length against me, straining against his jeans, my tights and panties not really being a barrier as I roll my hips, relishing the feeling of the fabric on my wetness. The feeling of his dick right underneath me.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”, I breathe against his lips. I almost add that I don’t want to give my neighbors a show, but that seems to be a little on the nose.

He pulls my head back a bit, his eyes searching mine and I can see the unbridled lust in them. Other than that, it seems like he’s exercising restraint, stopping the movement of my hips on his lap. “If we do that, we’re gonna fuck.”, he states matter-of-factly.

His words colour my cheeks red. “I guess so.” is all I manage to say because the imagination alone is already making me hotter than I was before.

His gaze flits between my right and left eye, back and forth, like the answers are already pouring out of them. “Are you sure you want this?”, he asks softly.

I break eyecontact and nod because this whole interaction is making me shy all of a sudden. The brattiness is gone.

His hand that was still tangled in my hair strokes down the side of my face until his fingers grab my chin and turn it up, to make me look at him again. “Use your words, Liebes. Do you want me to fuck you?”, he rewords his question.

My breath halts in my throat and for a moment my mind goes completely blank. I just stare at him, swallowing down the nervousness I feel. “Yes.”, I answer him, my voice steadier than I would have expected.

He pulls up one of his eyebrows, looking at me like he’s expecting something more, the serious expression on his face turning heated and cocky.

“Please.”, I whisper which earns me a satisfied growl as he captures my lips again. The kiss is sloppier than the ones before, he bites my lower lip which sends a zap of pleasure right to my core and makes me moan against his lips some more.

He pulls back a little bit, his hot mouth pressing small pecks to my cheek and down to my neck, all while scooping me up and opening up the car door. He presses me flush against him as he gets out the car with me in his grasp, making sure I don’t bump my head on the car frame.

My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his shoulder, holding onto him, my thighs resting against his hips, while he locks the car and just uses one arm to steady me, like I weigh nothing. Well, to him I probably don’t.

Determination in his step, he approaches the building and I dig into my little bag with one hand to get the keys to my flat.

part 4

~ or More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month

Text

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him.

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together.

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close.

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own.

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?”

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’.

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?”

“Hmmhmm.”

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that?

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold.

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?”

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants.

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.”

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.”

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it.

He shivers. You know what you’re doing.

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle.

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary.

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him.

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him.

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words.

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say.

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake.

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.”

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers.

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?”

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince.

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.”

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.”

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.”

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.”

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?”

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease.

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter.

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.”

You grin and kiss his nose.

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning.

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?”

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Almost all the time.”

“Almost?”

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice.

“I’m sleeping.”

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly.

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again.

“You don’t mind?”

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

“Steven won’t care.”

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.”

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment.

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.”

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.”

You poke your tongue out at him.

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.” He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction.

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive.

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?”

Jake nods once.

“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily.

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins.

“But, humour me, yeah?”

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.”

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.”

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?”

“Jake.”

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective.

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth.

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous.

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips.

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked.

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his.

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants.

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you.

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck.

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing.

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly.

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down.

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time.

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him.

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy.

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold.

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing.

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides.

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue.

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth.

“This okay?” You ask between licks.

“Yes, ah, yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds.

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily.

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air.

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat.

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush.

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly.

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips.

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth.

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you.

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around.

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.”

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches.

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering.

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?”

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning.

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.”

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture.

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside.

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy.

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?”

“You.”

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls.

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you.

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back.

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore.

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on.

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal.

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock.

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge.

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time.

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat.

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again.

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain.

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly.

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly.

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace.

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch.

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear.

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises.

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair.

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words.

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air.

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity.

“Please what?” You whisper.

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips.

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before.

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his.

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down.

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside.

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still.

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?”

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.”

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly.

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage.

His fingers don’t falter though.

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second.

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour.

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly.

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still.

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans.

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same.

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace.

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin.

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it.

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants.

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend.

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe.

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe.

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you.

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.”

You snort. “Oh, do you?”

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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yourdoorisunlocked · 2 months

Text

Something Unexpected - Lucifer Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: A fluffy bulleted fanfic in the form of bulleted points and a dash of headcanons, featuring the apple daddy of hell himself, Lucifer ;)

This is mostly me simping for the short, awkward duck-loving lil guy, and also experimenting with writing for his character.

Anyways, enjoy!

. . .

🎪 When you met Lucifer, you were honestly shell-shocked. He was so... whimsical, and captivating, maybe a bit awkward, and with his ringleader getup, it made him look equally as silly as he seemed. He just... wasn't whom you were expecting at all.

🎪 "Charlie... That's your dad!?"

🎪 "Well... Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?"

🎪 "Look at him!" He didn't seem anything like the Lucifer you'd heard stories of from your parents, who tried to scare you away from debauchery and sin with their over-exaggerated tales from their biblical teachings.

🎪 They didn't exactly pay off, clearly.

🎪 But this? This was absolutely not who you thought you had to protect Charlie from.

🎪 You were the 'mom' of the Hazbin Crew, always looking out for everyone, and earning yourself a soft, irreplaceable spot in their hearts. And you clearly had a soft spot for Charlie, and that set off many initial alarm bells for Lucifer.

🎪 He didn't want to have another Alastor on his hands.

🎪 Lucifer cornered you about this, of course, and you were still grappling with the fact that he wasn't how you thought he was going to be at all.

🎪 And you turned out to be just as unexpected...

🎪 “I’m just worried about her… She has such a big heart, and I just don’t want her to get hurt. I should know what it’s like to be taken advantage of by people I put my trust and love into."

🎪 Though he is slightly curious about that, he decides that perhaps it'd be nice to have someone checking up on Charlie from time to time, and there is no way he's encouraging Alastor's presence anywhere near her.

🎪 You also found his love and overprotectiveness for his daughter quite endearing, although it was insufferable to watch them be so awkward around each other in the beginning.

🎪 So, you agreed to watch over Charlie for Lucifer, making sure to encourage her dreams in his stead. For Charlie's happiness, and because, well, why would you say no? You were already looking after her before.

🎪 As soon as Lucifer leaves, Charlie is bounding up to you with a wide smile, taking your hands in hers and bouncing up and down on the carpeted floors, so hard she's making indents with her hooves.

🎪 "Oh, isn't it great!? He believes in me! Me! I thought that after, well everything that happened with Mom, that he'd..." her eyes grow sullen as the mention of her mother sours her mood, and you brush a hand against her cheek with a gentle, reassuring smile.

🎪 "I have a feeling he always has, Charlie. He just never knew how to say it. And sometimes, when a parent sees themselves in their own children, it... Terrifies them." You turn to an apple-paned window with a melancholic gaze.

🎪 "He's just trying his hardest for you because he doesn't want to see you fall like he did. You can't fall farther than Hell, but if you try..." you trail off, and your implication held heavy in the air.

🎪 "But he loves you, and I know that his pride for you knows no bounds, and nor does his worry, Charlie." The demoness brightens at your words, practically tearing up as she grips your midsection in a hug. "Thank you," she whispers, and you ruffle her pale blonde hair with a fond smile.

🎪 Little did you know, Lucifer had been silently stalking watching the both of you from afar, and he leaves that evening with a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

🎪 As he continues to visit the hotel, he checks in with you for a moment upon the establishment's progress, Charlie, and casual conversation in general.

🎪 As more time passes, and Lucifer makes more and more frequent visits to the hotel - much to Alastor’s chagrin - after spending some precious time in his daughter's company, he'll ask around for your whereabouts.

🎪 You'll both naturally fall into more casual conversation outside of the hotel's progress, and you soon realize that there was more beneath the surface of Hell's estranged ruler.

🎪 Lucifer was captivating, alluring in every form of the word. A creative, inspiring soul who once held dreams and aspirations, and now, the fire that once burned within him was passed onto his daughter.

🎪 And you could see his desperation to keep that flame inside of Charlie alight.

🎪 Lucifer slowly grows fond of your company, giving you little sculptures of ducks, and spending near hours raving about his little creations with you.

🎪 In a haze of his sleep-deprived subconscious, he even made a little duckie for you, complete with all of your defining features that he found the most attractive prominent.

🎪 It ended up being his personal comfort/therapy duck until you found it, and putting together the resemblance, teased him about it slightly, to which he kept stubbornly denying it.

🎪 "Okay, but you have to admit, it's clear where you got your inspiration from," you held the duckie up to your face, noting just how precise Lucifer was when making it. Huh, he really hit the mark with this one.

🎪 The king of Hell turned on his heel, his jacket and hat discarded to the side, and leaving him in his striped circus-patterned dress shirt and ivory slacks.

🎪 "I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer bent over his desk, trying to look like he was actually doing something, but his heart and mind were going a mile a minute. Damn his adorable hyperfixations!

🎪 "Maybe it was just coincidence! I don't know, sometimes I get inspired by things that I..." he glanced at you as you raised an eyebrow at him, and the small red circles plastered against his moonlight-stricken skin glowed a bright red.

🎪 "J-Just coincidence. Uh-huh, that's right..." he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince you, or himself with that one.

🎪 Oh, yeah, you totally bought that bullshit.

🎪 "Well, for what it's worth, you did a pretty good job. This is your best one, yet!" You beam at him and tuck the small duck figure under your arm.

🎪 "So... can I keep it? Pretty please?"

🎪 Lucifer shoves some papers and blueprints off of his desk, completely focused on his work instead of how beautiful your smile was. "No."

🎪 After that, he creates a little duck of himself to keep beside the one in your likeness upon his desk whenever you aren't around. He inches them closer together every now and then or whenever he gets nervous or jittery.

🎪 Slowly but surely, Lucifer began to fall. And he is terrified of it. He's starting to yearn for your company, visit the hotel simply to seek you out, and this familiar thudding feeling is giving him a headache that can't be soothed by the fizzling warmth of alcohol.

🎪 Charlie begins to notice her father's strange behavior, and how it happens particularly around you...

🎪 Of course, the eccentric princess puts it all together, and she tries to keep it a secret, she really does, but the fact that her dad could actually be falling in love with one of her closest friends, and that he might finally be able to move on from her mother makes her heart overflow with a plethora of emotions.

🎪 The poor girl ends up spilling the details of your rom-com of a love life to Vaggie while hugging a pillow, crying joyful tears as her girlfriend chuckles and simply kisses her forehead with a small smile.

🎪 "Don't worry, hon. I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end. Just sleep it off, okay? And don't, I mean DON'T get involved in their love life, alright? Your dad needs some time to figure this out on his own."

🎪 "But I really want to help them! I know she likes him back; I just know it! And besides, he'll never confess on his own-!"

🎪 "It'll all be solved later, don't worry, Charlie. Besides, we can't just drop everything for this, can we? The hotel still needs our help,"

🎪 "Their love needs our help," Vaggie raised an expectant eyebrow, and Charlie receded with a pout. "But I guess it could wait..."

🎪 "Attagirl."

🎪 Meanwhile, as you toss and turn in your own bed, a deep fondness for the king that ran deeper than you would like to admit blossomed in your heart and was beginning to see the first rays of radiant sunlight that just so happened to be your unconditional adoration for the king of Hell.

🎪 Lucifer could make you laugh, smile, and gasp with a wonderment that you hadn't ever felt before, and your heart began to ache for more. More of his presence, and his whimsical, goofy nature that time had taught you to relish and look forward to.

🎪 All you could do was sleep, close your eyes and hope that these feelings would stamp themselves out soon.

🎪 But all of that proved to be futile as you woke with a start in the middle of the night, the hazy visions of clipped wings, magnificent and radiant in all their seldom glory, remained fresh in your mind.

🎪 The glow of a shiny red apple faded from your vision, as you clenched your arms and buried your face into your pillow.

🎪 You were in for a long night...

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This was... surprisingly really fun and cute to write! I'll definitely be continuing this, since I really want to flesh it out more

Once again, please, PLEASE use the taglist for my sake 😭🙏 it can get sort of overwhelming when I can't remember certain usernames and tag them, and it's just to make things easier for me.

Oh and Lucifer's aesthetic is circuscore, of course. Underrated aesthetic frfr 🎪💫🍎

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yourdoorisunlocked #lucifer hazbin hotel #I'VE DONE IT! I'VE MADE HEADCANONS!#HELL YEAAH #this is a beautiful development #expect more of this guy in the future 🐍✨🍎

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