#well maybe there are. i have not read all of them. only the...
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We Don’t Have No Babies!
Synopsis. Well, it’s a bit difficult to have no babies when they’re well and fully intent on fúcking one into you.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mentions of kids, máting press, pússydrunk boys, manhandling, marking, spitting, degradation, praise, cúmplay, the elders ugh (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.9k
A/N. WHEWW take this as an apology gift for missing yesterday’s post date, I overslept eheheh.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - What’s another?
“Don’t hah- pass out on me yet, doll.” Toji hisses. Spreading your swollen folds further apart with his fingers, already stretched so obscenely around his swollen cock, and only trying to squeeze deeper. “What was it that brat said again?”
And you can only let out a broken whine in response - too high off the stretch and the utterly sinful pool of his cum spreading on the sheets below. It’s been like this for hours now, both of you barely lucid at this point. But you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted, not even a little bit.
Because Toji’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, pressing down, down, down, till your knees were at your tits. Folded in half, and stuffed full beneath him. God, you weren’t going to make it out alive.
“Oh, riiight.” he drags out, voice strained. Deceivingly innocent had it not been for that devilish grin. “He called you ‘mama’.”
And there it was - Megumi’s tiny, seemingly mindless slip-up that got you into this mess in the first place. One that had poked some raw, primal part of Toji so dangerously awake.
The one that had Toji splitting you in half with his aching cock, hips pressing so hard against yours that it almost hurts. Fucking into you in slow, languid motions of his hips, while he drinks in your sobbed out little, “Ah- Hngh- Toji, s’too much I-”
Lazily, he thumbs open your folds even more, watching in awe at the way his seed dribbles and oozes down your thighs, seeping into the mattress. It takes him a while to form the words, too hazy from how warm and sloppy you were inside.
“Too much?” he drawls, with the audacity to sound genuinely taken aback. “I don’t think it’s enough, ma.”
It’s the only warning you get - barely - before he laces his fingers on top of your head to take him deeper, snapping his hips harder. Sloppier. Sensitive cock stinging with sensitivity, balls squeezing painfully. It hurt, but it hurt so good. And Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum again. But he was milking his cock on your pussy like he was gonna fill you up until he physically couldn’t anymore.
“B-but m’so full.” you babble, mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! as you look down at the way you were swallowing him up so well. “Dunno if I can’t hngh- t-take anymore.”
Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck. Because Toji was chuckling in surprise, stuck on the way you could still form coherent sentences - he had to fix that, of course.
“Shhh. Don’ worry about it. Jus’ need to fill you up- ah, fuck a baby into ya, ma.” he gently kisses away those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “All you gotta do is sit there all pretty n’ take- it-”
Hand snaking down to toy with your swollen clit - frenzied, barely-circular motions just to get you off. Because shit he can’t just stuff you full of his cock without getting the mother of his future kids off, right? And he let you know, of course. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till morning comes and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-
“-m’gonna make ‘em breakfast. And you’ll dress ‘em up. We’ll read oh- them bedtime stories and-” he’s babbling so pathetically into the crook of your neck now. “-an’ tuck ‘em into bed- Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” Drunk off your pussy and the heavenly feeling of his heavy balls squeezing so dangerously, letting his hips go out of control now. “And then- hngh, and then-”
“T-then what?” you let out such cute sobs into his open mouth, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he ravages you.
“Ya really wanna know, ma?”
Somehow, his words have you squeezing around him so good. Enough that it’s almost difficult to move inside you. Enough that Toji doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming and cumming so hard that you’re bloated with his seed. Squelching out of your quivering pussy and soaking his cock as he doesn’t even think of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy, teeth latching onto your earlobe as he holds you still for him.
“And then…” Toji’s hot breath fans your face, voice guttural and sounding like he was losing a little bit of his sanity with each thrust. Hips moving again and again to fuck his cum deeper into you. “And then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Lonely? No problem!
“Aww, m’sorry. Did I make you feel lonely, my love?” Kissing your lips softly, running his hands all over the pretty lil’ lace covering your body - just barely, of course. “Did I leave my pretty lil’ wife all alone in this big house?”
You give him a pouty little nod, and oh does that do something to Nanami’s heart - and his achingly hard cock. And he can’t help but pull the drenched fabric of your panties further to the side, greedily honing in on the way you glisten and clench around him.
“Well, we should fix that, right? So that my pretty baby is never alone in here.”
You would be reassured by his answer - had it not been for the way Nanami doesn’t even wait for your reply. Instead, looking straight into your eyes while he pushes his thick cock deeper inside you. Not even fucking preparing you as he usually would.
“Oh! Oh, mm fuck-” And it’s all you can do to buck into his touch and just fucking take it while he grunts at the slight resistance. For once in his life more concerned about trying to fuck desperately into your dripping cunt than whether or not your poor pussy would hurt herself trying to take him.
That merciful, practical little part of his brain going slow to let you adjust to his massive cock - because, well, he couldn’t break the mother of his future children. Now, could he?
But oh how you’d beg to differ with the way Nanami fucks into you in languid , shallow grinds of his hips. No matter how many times Nanami stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint. Stretching you out, fingers swiping at your clit, expertly grazing against all the right spots he knew so maddeningly well.
“Two or three?”
It takes you a second to register that he’s waiting for your answer - too delirious with the way your husband’s splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Leaving neat crescents of his nails on your hips as he holds your slutty pussy still.
“W-what?”
“Two or three?” Nanami gives your pulsing clit a little smack! as if to get your attention, hips stuttering ever-so-slightly at the way you squeeze his thick cock in surprise. “How many babies am I fuckin’ into you, my love?”
Oh. Oh, shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
But were you really complaining? No.
Swallowing thickly, “Ah! Fuck, Kento- wan’ two.”
And maybe you’re a mastermind, maybe you’re an idiot. Because nowhere is the gentleman that you married, Nanami’s spitting on your quivering cunt once. Twice. Watching like a predator stalking his prey at the way it misses - purposefully, splattering against your inner thigh.
Smearing it all over your pussy and your panties - which he was too impatient, too starved - to remove. Messy.
It’s all Nanami needed to do before he’s bottoming out completely. Pressing his forehead against yours in such a sweet motion, even though his hips were so mean. Drinking in your delirious whines as his heavy balls smack your ass. Over and over-
The duality making your head spin as he fucks his cute lil’ wife dumb, part of his sanity dancing away with his restraint every time your slutty hole sucks him up so deliciously.
“Shit. More?” he grunts, sounding absolutely wrecked. Moaning at the way you tug at his hair, legs wrapping around his toned waist as if to urge him to go faster. Deeper. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. More more more-
And, of course, what his girl wants - she gets. Because Nanami’s dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds, all the way out till he’s collecting your sweet juices on his head. “Better take it like my good wife then.”
Then he’s pushing and pushing inside your tight pussy, but not like he was before. Jagged, desperate grinds of his hip - no adoration, no warmth. Just fucking you like his little slut, high off the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he’s all you could think of. “We’ll have such beautiful babies, my love.”
“Shit shit shit, Kento- yer gonna ruin me-” you’re whining, body torn between arching into Nanami’s unforgiving cock and running away.
As if you ever had a chance - he was holding you so bruisingly by the hips, gasping into your mouth. “Shhh, that’s the point.” Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by his out-of-control hips, so harsh and unfocused with lust that those tufts of blond at his base scratch your sensitive nub. And the feeling is so fucking obscene that you barely hear the words that follow. “You jus’ focus on taking care of my babies, n’ m’gonna be the one to ruin this pretty cunt- The one to fill you up- fuck. ”
Nanami throws his head back as you squeeze the soul out of his throbbing cock, so pent-up and needy that you’re creaming all over his cock already. And of course, Nanami isn’t any better - because with a strangled groan of your name, he’s cumming. Hard. almost painfully so.
“N’ you’ll never be lonely, cuz everyone’s gonna see you and see me. I did that.”
Jolts of electricity going all the way from his heavy balls to the thick, hot ropes of cumming filling your dripping pussy. Painting it all a desperate, desperate white.
And shit was Nanami an entirely different man tonight. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, only to admire his seed gushing out of you - so lewd and his.
“Y’know what, my love, I don’t think two will be enough after all.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty (and his)
“Awww, pretty baby.” Geto purrs, in such a dangerously low voice, smacking his tip - so red, and angry - all across your swollen folds. He bites his lip at the way his cum spills down your legs, pooling onto the hardwood floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! “Y’want it so badly, huh?”
“Shit- hngh- please!”
You don’t know what you’re begging for - maybe release. Maybe mercy. Maybe to be anywhere but here - shoved against the wall right beside the front door, dress hiked up, almost your way to go clubbing with your friends before your beloved boyfriend had caught you. And stuffed you full of his cum, at least.
Whatever it is, Geto only gets messier, teasing your sloppy hole by slamming in - just barely grazing that one spot. And pulling out completely, watching you clench and glisten in the dim lighting. In. And out. In and out in and-
“Sugu!” you squeal, tired of the way he was having way too much making such a mess of your pussy. Swiping at your slick, and shoving his seed back into you - smirking at the obscene mess.
“Mhm?” he nods absent-mindedly. Eyes flitting between your ravaged pussy and that absolutely adorable pout on your lips. Chuckling, “What~? If I cum in this cute pussy one more time, you’re sure to get pregnant, y’know.”
Scoffing, “Shoulda thought of that when you came inside me the first time.”
Geto rolls his thumb over your sore clit - just as a little punishment - breath hot against your ear as he whispers raggedly. “And are you complaining, gorgeous?”
“N-no…”
“Then?”
He’s licking little circles at the crook of your neck now, in time with the maddening, frenzied patterns on your cunt. Enough friction to keep those pretty lil’ whines spilling from your swollen lips, but still teasing you just enough to have you bucking and keening onto his aching cock for more more more-
“Please! I jus’ want your cock, Sugu-”
All it takes is your broken little whimper, and it’s like something snapped - because Geto’s plunging into your plushy walls completely. Finally giving you an ounce of that friction you’ve been craving for so long. Only half the man he was once before while fucks into you deliriously.
“F-fuck. Love it when you’re so messy f’me.” he’s hissing lowly, as if you could be anything but messy. As if he’s not pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some slut, hips snapping mercilessly. As if he isn’t absolutely ruining you.
And maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the pure disrespect in his cock. Fucking you nothing like the sweet sweet whispers he was muttering in your ear, ragged and hoarse with desire.
“Gonna fill you up, huh? Give me some cute lil’ babies?” he groans,nibbling on your earlobe, fingers pressing down around your throat so the only response he gets are wet gurgles. Ones that go straight to his twitching balls, as Geto keeps running his mouth pussydrunk. “They better have your personality, don’ wanna share my pretty girl. Isn’t that right?”
So mean. Just babbling like you rarely get to see him - usually the ever-graceful Geto Suguru. Now, drunk on your tight pussy and the image of you with a little baby with black hair and him - there for it all. His perfect little family.
“Gonna be the perfect momma, huh?”
Geto only gets a broken little whimper in response - one that almost makes him want to go easy on you. Almost, instead, he settles for breathing out a ragged, “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, gorgeous. Squeeze me s’tight like that - jus’ like that jus’ like that-”
Trailing such a delicate finger up your legs, Geto pools that sinful mixture of your slick and his cum on his fingertips - before shoving them unforgivingly in your mouth. The slightly salty taste was so addictive on your tongue - and, hell, you aren’t even mad that you’re running late to meet your friends.
Smirking as you gag and mewl around him, he only gets sloppier. Faster. Licking a long, languid stripe up your neck, just knowing that he’s gonna cum inside your cute pussy harder than he has his whole life. Have your poor pussy bloated with him him him-
“Now, yer gonna go to that lil’ party of yours jus’ like this. And everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Can’t help himself
“N-no, swear-” Choso lets out a broken little whimper into the crook of your neck. Feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up mindlessly over and over to where you were splayed out so prettily on top of him. So messy and dripping all over his glistening cock. “Gonna ngh- be the last one- I s-swear.”
You’ve heard this broken little mantra before - and you knew it wouldn’t end well for your poor pussy. Especially not with Choso bullying his weeping cock back into your snug cunt. “But, Cho!” you gasp, “We’re out of-”
He knows you’re out of condoms. But, really, does it matter?
Because shit were you like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. And, well, here he was - completely pussydrunk, two rounds and a still rock-hard cock later. The only thing on his mind from then on was to not paint your pretty pussy white with his seed, no matter how much he wanted do.
“Last time, baby. Promise I won’t cum inside.” And then he’s batting this long lashes so unfairly up at you. So fucking beautiful with his dark hair untied, lips swollen, eyes-half-hooded and miles away. And, well, how could you say no to that?
And you’ve barely gotten out your delirious little nod before Choso’s wrapping two strong arms around your waist, pulling you so intimately closer like he worshipped you - while he fucks your hot cunt like anything but. So hard that you knew it would leave marks - your nails on his chest, his balls on your ass, fingers on your waist.
God, you were squeezing so desperately around him and he just thinks he might just cum right then and there. So fucking perfect that Choso knows he’s never buying another box of condoms ever again.
“F-fuck, feels s’good. Love having you so deep n’ messy inside me.”
You were going to be the death of him.
“Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, yeah? You like that, baby?” he groans lowly. Abs burning and flexing each time he rams his cock into your tight pussy, absolutely loving the way you were leaking his cum all over the sheets.
“Shit- I-”
“Yes, Cho~?”
Face burning in embarrassment, choking pathetically on his words, Choso instead lets his hips do the talking. Strained whimpers of your name leaving him each time he bullies his painfully twitching cock through your plushy walls.
Voice cracking almost-embarrassingly at the end as he rambles, “Oh my god- y’feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. Wanna- hngh-” Trying his very best to sound like every cute lil’ whimper didn’t make his thoughts steer into the dangerous territory of how pretty you’d be with his kid. Of a little girl with dark hair and your eyes and-
You. His hips speeding up now, so sloppy with now rhyme or rhythm. How round and glowing you’d be with his kid. You, how everyone would know that he was that ruined your pretty pussy n’ got you this way. You, you, you-
“Wanna cum in this cute pussy, baby.” He finally confesses. Hips getting so messy - mindless, quick little jabs that have you keening on top of him, balls squeezing painfully. “Wanna fill y’up until you can’t take it anymore, fuck you so full until we have a pretty baby. Can I, baby? Please don’t say no please please-”
And at this point all you can do is whine and buck your hips to meet his merciless cadence, letting Choso crane his neck and kiss you senseless. “Fuck yeah. Thought you’d never ask-” you mutter, muffled around where he was sucking on your lips, like they were his favorite candy. “Want you to cum inside me, Cho.”
Well, you didn’t need to tell Choso twice because no sooner have the words left your lips before he’s giving you one harsh thrust. Veins throbbing against your gummy walls, again and again.
Tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a guttural grunt of your name. “Gonna have a pretty lil’ girl.” Both white-white pleasure and the image of you and him and his daughter flashing behind his eyes. “She’ll look just as beautiful as you, baby. N’ have your cute smile.”
Your own orgasm is nothing more than a few tingles, overstimulated and limp on top of Choso as stuffs you full of his seed. Thick, white ropes that gushing all the way out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his twitching balls.
You could get used to this.
And it’s such a heavenly feeling that Choso barely registers his hips moving again, as if on instinct. Fucking mindlessly into you again. Again and again. Gasping, breath hot against your ear.
“Only one more, baby. Promise.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A reward
“F-fuck, woman” Sukuna grunts, fingers so bruising on your hips as you slide down his throbbing erection. Inch by fucking inch, keening at the delicious burn. “Y’act so innocent but you’ve got such a slutty lil’ pussy, huh?”
As expected, the only response he gets is an incoherent babble of agreement. Your eyes watering, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to take him. And his sharp eyes narrow in amusement at the sight of his painfully inexperienced consort’s pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs.
Humans were always such interesting little creatures.
“Tch.”
Slow ones, too, apparently.
Because immediately, Sukuna’s stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. Groaning at the resitance, a large hand pumping his cock slowly - enticingly - as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts, just to fit himself inside your snug cunt.
And you needed to breathe in and out maybe, relax your plushy walls, but Sukuna wasn’t going to wait. Why would he? He had his favorite woman - not that he’d ever let you know - sat on his lap, legs spread so shamefully and bouncing on his thick cock.
“F-fuck.” his jaw falls slack ever so slightly, groaning at the feeble resistance against his massive cock. Still only half-inside you but still pushing relentlessly. “S’like your pussy was made f’me, brat. Milking me so well.”
“Shit shit shit- hah- ‘Kuna, feel s’good-” you gasp, thighs quivering with the pressure to meet his rough cadence. And Sukuna huffs out a low laugh at your audacity to call his name, feeling charitable enough today to forgive this transgression.
Instead toying with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his thick fingers, loving the way you buck and squeal his name.
“Hmm, feels good?” he hums dangerously, amused at your barely-lucid little nod. Fucking into you like his personal fucktoy - his favorite one. “Good ‘nough to give me an heir?”
At this your eyes snap open - but not for long because you just have to screw them shut again with Sukuna finally bottoming out in a quick, harsh thrust. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock, veins throbbing a maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat.
You barely have the time to breathe out a sigh of relief before he’s fucking into you. Unforgivingly. Like the monster he claims to be. All the blood draining into his achingly dick at the idea of fucking his cum into you until you couldn’t walk.
And he tells you - chuckling at the cute lil’ ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. “Y’want that, my little slut? To be my cute plaything to breed? Help m’make the next king of curses?”
Fuck, you don’t know if you’re reeling more from the way he was ramming his cock into you or the way he was talking to you in that mean little tone.
“Mmm- yes! Yes yes yes!”
“Use your words.”
“Wan’-” you hiccup, batting your lashes at him so tearily, in a way that makes Sukuna’s heart thump so strangely. An uneven little beat matching the led rhythm of his hips. “Wan’ your cum- gonna give you a kid.”
So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way he wrestles your arms behind your back, using it like leverage to bounce you harder and harder on his cock. Only looking up at him with such cute lil’ heart eyes as Sukuna uses you as he pleases.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ he gasps into your open mouth. Teeth latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Dangerous. “Gonna make me an heir so powerful. Have him treat you like a queen n’ kill everyone that doesn’t? Ya like that, my lil’ slut?”
“Shit- ah- I want that s’bad, ‘Kuna.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
And oh how pretty you look, cunt clenching and all surprised at the knock on the door - some lowly human here to beg for their life, maybe. But it doesn’t matter, because Sukuna’s only licks away the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek, hips burning while he breeds you like some animal. Hard, and almost violent.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same, breathless and shaking on Sukuna’s lap while he fill you with his hot seed. Thick and intoxicating. Hips unstopping, just animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. Over and over-
And you’re so fucking drunk off of your lord’s cock that you barely even realize when he’s thumbing your ravaged cunt open. Letting his cum drip all the way down to his gaudy throne, on full display for whoever was about to-
“Come in.”
It’s adorable how you try to scramble off his lap, trying - and failing - to cover yourself up as the door cracks open.
“Not yet, woman.” Sukuna grasps you in an iron-hold grip, dangerously sharp nails tethering right at your throat and your hips. Starting to drag you up and down on his swollen cock once more with no concern or care for whoever was about to enter. “Gotta make sure it takes.”
It was filthy.
Completely debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be. You and your lord - and maybe your future heir, too.
♡ GOJO SATORU - Give ‘em what they want!
“Hah- f-fuck imagine- Imagine I fucked the next s-strongest into you right now.”
Oh.
You knew by the look in his eyes that something was off - that something hadn’t gone well in that meeting with the elders. Really, it was a miracle he attended in the first place, but somehow you had an inkling that this was the type of something that would have you needing a miracle.
That was three hours ago.
And fuck did you need a miracle - because Gojo had you splayed out on top your office desk, his cum spreading in a pool beneath, you throbbing cock stuffing in and out of your snug cunt while you try not to alert the entirety of Jujutsu High about how needy the great Gojo Satoru was being right now.
Gojo’s ramming his swollen dick into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he was drunk off the sight of you all cockdrunk and in a tight mating press. Moaning at the sting of painfully hard erection twitching inside you, and your nails running down his back.
Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and-
You think it’s a bit unfair, really. Because who were you against the strongest? Well, the pretty lil’ wife who’s going to give him his successor, apparently.
“Shit- wouldn’t that be funny?” he lets out a humorless laugh, wrestling your legs further and further apart. Eyeing the way you suck him up lewdly, “If I made my kid the strongest n’ just wiped these old fossils out?”
“T-Toru- we’ll get ca-”
“Caught? Who fuckin’ cares, they want a Gojo successor n’ they’re gonna get one.”
He’s letting out his frustration in the way he chases both your highs for the - well, you lost count which orgasm it was at this point. Letting you stain all over the expensive desk as he yells out little curses into your mouth.
And oh how you want to kiss that little furrow in his brow, to whisper away his stress - but, no, the only thing getting Gojo out of this bad mood was to fully and thoroughly ruin his girl’s cute lil’ cunt.
But Toru-” you sob into his open mouth, hips bucking wildly for more. “What if I can’t give you the strongest…” You know you’re babbling deliriously, little insecurities you didn’t even know you had coming to the surface as it really hits you that shit this is your Gojo. And he’s here. And he’s fucking you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.
“Who gives a shit?” he licks away the big, fat tears streaking down your face. Salty on his tongue while he plays with your pretty clit, rubbing quick, tight little circles on it.
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo brings his fingertips to his mouth with a lewd pop! So blissfully wrapping his lips around them. Darkened blue eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste - it only spurs him on more.
Fingers immediately back down on your clit. Frenzied - like he couldn’t wait any longer, like it killed him to not see you cum again. Body bowing into yours, hand digging and bruising on your hips as he holds your filthy pussy still on his cock,
“Fuck, gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. M’gonna train them to be the strongest n’ protect their pretty mommy.”
Sloppy, he was so fucking sloppy - such a mess of teeth and spit and pure desire to paint your walls white.
“Gonna have my eyes, huh? N’ your hair. Fuck they’re gonna regret bringing this up.” Babbling little nonsenses that drove you mad. He sounded so fucking pathetic, crazed with lust. “Ooooh they’re gonna regret it.” Overstimulated enough that it hurt.
Kissing the side of your ankle beside his head, lacing his fingers together to pull you further and further down his rock-hard cock. Sloppy and moving with no rhyme or reason. “Because they fucking hate me. All of ‘em will look at our kid n’ you - so round and pretty and see me. All me.”
Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere - ones that have you convulsing and gripping onto Gojo - the desk, his shoulders, his hair. And this was no different. “Ah! Hngh, Toru m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Delirious, white-hot pleasure cracking behind his eyes, Gojo’s pumping hot thick, hopes ropes of cum into your poor, overfilled pussy. And shit no thrill of taking out the elders could compare to watching the way his seed drips down the side. Slow, and thick, pooling at his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-
“Hey, sweetheart, y’think if I cum in you again, they’ll come out twice as strong?”
“...”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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I'll Be Your Temporary Fix
Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader
Based on this request:
'Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).'
Word Count: 2.3k
I absolutely loved this request! There will be a second part posted in a few days.
Thanks for reading!
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You look up from your camera as the sounds of an argument cut through the bouncing of basketballs and squeaking of sneakers against the floor of the gym.
Azzi and Paige are at it again.
This was not the first time you had seen them sniping at each other this past week, and sure it was concerning. They were best friends.
What could possibly be the issue?
Being the head of the media team for the women’s basketball team at UConn meant you had formed some very close friendships with the girls. Today, you were attempting to finish filming shots of this week's practices to post on Instagram. The new season was soon beginning, and it was crucial that the rest of the world was able to see what you saw in these girls. However, that was proving to be a challenge with the incessant bickering coming from Paige and Azzi.
“C’monnn, just please go ask her,” Azzi whines loudly, looking over in your direction. You frown, confused as to why their arguing would have anything to do with you.
“I can’t just ask her to do that. She’s too nice, and you know it’ll make her feel all weirded out!” Paige retorts, equally as loud.
They really were not subtle.
As practice ends, you put away your equipment, feeling Paige’s eyes on you. Looking up, you see Azzi retreating back in the direction of the locker room, with Paige slowly sauntering towards you looking nervous.
That was odd. Paige never really looks nervous. She was smug as hell, pretty much always. It was something you envied and admired.
“Good job today, P,” you say as she comes to stand in front of you, eliciting a broad grin that caused your belly to do several happy flips.
“Thanks, gotta have someone to show off for,” she responds with a wink and laugh. She continues after a beat, “Listen, I have a weird request and feel free to say no, but I kinda promised Azzi I would ask.”
You nod for her to continue, wondering what the blonde could possibly need from you.
“The fans are kinda obsessed with the idea that me and Azzi are in a relationship, and Azzi is super uncomfortable with it. She has a bit of a crush on one of the guys on the men’s team, and even he thinks we’re together.”
Your eyebrows furrow at the information, trying to process what she was saying.
“Okay…so how do I fit into all this?” you ask puzzledly.
Paige bites her bottom lip apprehensively, “well we thought maybe if the fans saw me with someone else, they’d forget about ‘Pazzi’.”
You look at her blankly. “Wait, me?” you ask. “You want to pretend to date me?”
“Only if you want to. We just thought it’d be a good idea. The fans love you, you’re actually gay, and you’re not exactly bad looking,” Paige mutters the last bit, causing you to turn a bright shade of pink.
This was certainly not a good idea. It was a terrible one.
You had harbored secret feelings for Paige since showing up day one with your camera and a head full of ideas.
Pretending to date Paige Bueckers was a surefire way to fall head over heels, and that was something you had spent a generous amount of time trying to avoid.
You sigh, going over the pros and cons in your head.
“Pleaseee,” Paige pouts, drawing out the syllables dramatically. “Ya know, you kinda owe me. I did introduce you to Steph Curry that one time…”
Your eyes narrow at that. She really decided to pull that card. “Fine,” you clip, in a way that was more hesitant than you actually felt.
Paige throws herself against you in a joyous hug, whooping loudly in your ear. You giggle at her antics.
“Thank you so, so much. I promise Imma be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had! Why don’t you come over tonight, and we can start planning,” she smirks excitedly.
You agree and go your separate ways, your stomach already rolling at the idea of doing anything romantic with the tall blonde.
Later, you walk towards the door to Paige’s apartment feeling thoroughly fucked. You had gone over every scenario in your head just about a million times since your conversation earlier. Your pessimistic disposition could not see this ending well.
The noise levels were alarming, and as you peered your head around the corner of the door, you saw multiple girls from the team lounging on Paige’s couch. They whoop as you make your presence known, feeling grateful for a buffer. Sure, you loved being alone with Paige, but the idea of having to feign intimacy was so foreign. You weren't sure if you were capable of that.
“She’s here, P,” Azzi shouts towards Paige’s bedroom door, causing her to quickly emerge with a shy smile.
“I hope you don't mind, but I figured we could go live with the girls tonight and get these rumors rolling,” Paige explains to you.
“Course not,” you respond breezily, wanting to keep up an air of indifference. You secretly hoped everyone else thought you were chill and not at all dying at the thought of people thinking you and Paige were together.
Azzi gets up from her spot to stand next to you. “Thank you so much for doing this. It’s not going to bother you, is it? People talking about you?” She has the eyes of a puppy dog, and you immediately feel better agreeing to the scheme.
“Nah, nothing really bothers me,” you shrug noncommittally. ‘Except having to fake intimacy with the person I want most,’ you add in your head bitterly.
Considering it was Ice who was live the last time shit had gone down with Paige and Azzi, everyone thought it would be hilarious for her to do it once more. It was so fitting.
KK, Ice, and Azzi were sitting on the couch in the living room of the apartment, leaving you and Paige the small armchair in the corner. It felt like something out of a cheesy movie. The girls giggle as you realize that you both cannot comfortably sit side by side in the chair, your cheeks aflame once more as you put the pieces together in your head. Paige takes a seat first, basically manspreading, as she does, before patting her lap tantalizingly.
Shit.
Before you can protest, Paige is grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit down on your lap. Her muscular arms circle your waist in a way that has your pulse racing instantaneously. Despite her skinny build, she is so fucking comfortable, and she pulls you towards her chest, encouraging you to melt into her body. This had to look natural to work.
Satisfied with your positions, Paige gives Ice the green light to start the live with a nod.
“Hey y’all, what’s everyone up to?” Ice begins, giving you and Paige a sly nod. You struggle to hold back a snort at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into.
KK, Azzi, and Ice take turns answering questions, showing off the tiktok dances they’ve been practicing and being straight-up obnoxious. After 10 minutes of sitting on Paige’s lap, the lack of action was making you feel antsy. The unknown of what was coming was eating at your anxieties.
Suddenly, KK reads out ‘We wanna see Paige,’ causing her to dramatically flip the phone toward where the two of you were nestled together. Paige gives a wave, smiling smugly, as if she could see the faces of the fans already.
Feeling shy all of a sudden, you bury your face in Paige’s neck, trying to disappear from the camera and the hooting girls holding it. You try to ignore the way Paige lets out a tiny moan as your lips accidentally meet the pale, smooth skin. You think you’d spend the rest of your life wanting to pull that noise out of her lips again.
Ice grabs her phone back out of KK’s grasp and continues asking questions, as if nothing had happened. You let out a breath, and come up for air, looking around at the girls.
Azzi looks pleased, watching the comments carefully and gauging the reaction of Paige’s loyal, and extremely passionate, fans. Out of reach from the camera, she sends an enthusiastic thumbs up, signaling that the first phase of the plan was a success. You just didn’t realize how successful it would end up being.
Phase two was deemed ‘Project Bow Bow Bow’ by KK. You had protested, saying, “what the hell does that even mean?” KK had just shrugged, so you went along with it.
It was decided that you and Paige had to be seen in public together, showing considerable amounts of PDA. “Ya gotta really sell it,” the girls had said with a laugh. Again, you just went along with it, but the idea of people seeing you with someone so loved by the public terrified you. What if people thought you weren’t good enough for Paige?
Foregoing your usual bar, Paige decides a house party would be a more intimate place to delude the UConn students into your fake relationship. Trusting Paige to take the reins, you accompanied her into a colossal, and if you were being honest, ostentatious, house just outside of the university’s campus. Your eyes widened at the stately staircase, its grandeur diminished by the drunk students already perched upon it. The noise of the house pounded through your ears, almost distracting you from the way Paige had intertwined your fingers together, rubbing soothing circles onto the top of your small hand. It was blissful.
The tall blonde leads you past hoards of students through the house. You’re too busy avoiding the looks you’re earning to question how Paige knows her way around so well.
A tall and muscular guy bumps into you, causing you to stumble in the heeled boots you wore. Paige glares at the kid, eyebrows furrowing harshly, and removes her hand from yours to wrap protectively around your waist. She pulls you in, making sure you are fine before continuing to lead you into the kitchen.
“Want a drink?” Paige asks, leaning into you, struggling to converse over the pounding noise of the bass.
You nod, grateful to have something to dull your overwhelmed senses. Paige pours you a drink, making you wince at the amount of vodka that ends up in your cup. She holds the cup to your lips, encouraging you to tentatively sip the beverage. You welcome the burn that slides down your throat, settling into a warm pool in your belly that makes you feel more relaxed in seconds.
As the kitchen fills up with numerous people, all looking for refills, you and Paige take solace in a sitting area in a more closed off area of the house. You are pulled onto her lap once more, a wink reassuring you that everything was going to plan.
You talk over the noise of the party, faces close together. One of Paige’s hands settles on your inner thigh, almost possessively. She rubs slow, teasing circles onto the sensitive flesh, the pressure deepening in a way that had you holding back moans of pleasure.
“I-I gotta run to the backroom. Be back in a sec,” you stutter, feeling suddenly appreciative that the darkness of the party hides your blush. Before Paige can even respond, you shoot off her lap, and run to the bathroom.
It takes a few tries to actually find the bathroom, accidentally walking on several horny couples getting it on in random rooms. As you lock the bathroom door, you sigh and slide onto the floor, feeling overloaded with the fake intimacy. It had been awhile since you had dated anyone, and stress of it all was starting to get to you.
You had to get it together. Taking a few deep breaths and giving yourself a pep talk, you walk back out into the chaos of the party. As you find your way back to where you and Paige had been sitting, you see some girl talking to her. Jealousy settles into you, before remembering you had a role to play; you were actually allowed to stake your claim on Paige.
Walking up to the two girls, you plaster a sultry smile to your face and take a seat back on Paige’s lap as if it belonged to you. Paige’s eyes widened in surprise; this week she had initiated nearly every touch between you two. Little did you know, she was secretly very pleased at this new behavior, arms immediately wrapping around you once more.
Without saying anything, the girl rolls her eyes and walks away You try desperately to keep up the act of nonchalance; the smirk that crawls over your face ruins it real fast.
No one bothers you the rest of the night, but you continue your act. You play with her fingers and she traces patterns onto your thigh. And despite the commotion transpiring around the two of you, the entire world disappears.
Paige drops you back off at your apartment that night with bright blue eyes, hazy under the spell of intoxication, but she was drunk off of more than just the alcohol. She places a small kiss on your cheek, lips grazing the corner of your mouth before bidding you a good night.
You spend the whole night dreaming about it, over and over again.
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#paige x reader#uconn women’s basketball#paige#fake dating#fluff
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ik ur requests r closed but I wanted to send this in before I forgot about it, so do with it what you will
But hsr men who are the gomez to Morticia vibes, who are just absolutely enamored with their partner and their partner is just as in love with them
YES SO MUCH!! I love their dynamic (pls ignore the header quality)
I can just imagine Argenti, Sampo, Aventurine and Boothill being like this in a relationship.
You don't ever get jealous, not even a little. You're both so in love with each other after all, what's there to worry about?
If anything, when you're getting hit on by someone else, the other joins in on the flirting and before you know it the rando just leaves because of the weird vibes alone.
-----
You support each other, a lot. Always cheering on the other no matter what, sometimes even for the most trivial things.
It's not an uncommon sight to see one of you shout encouraging words while the other is flipping an egg in the morning.
You read each other very well! Even without words you can understand each other with just vibes alone.
You come back home after an exhausting day? He's already next to you without a word, holding a cup of hot beverage, ready to rub your shoulder and listen to you rants
He comes home after an exhausting day? You've already drawn a bath and prepared some snacks for him to eat afterwards while you dry his hair
-----
You fight so incredibly well with each other too! Even if you've never fought alongside him before
It all just comes to you naturally, you've got an opening? He's got your back and vice versa.
Maybe you take turn turns, one protecting while the other attacks. Or maybe you just both go batshit crazy and kill everyone 👍
Amidst the chaos of battle you sometimes share subtle displays of love, maybe a small kiss or just holding each other's hand the whole time. Everyone's too busy getting their asses kicked to notice tbh
Together, you're an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. Most people will flee even just seeing you both in each other's vicinity.
-----
You know each other very well, even the things you don't talk about.
You know that game where the bride and groom are sitting back to back and they have to answer questions about each other to see if they know each other well? You ace it. Full confidence.
-----
You trust each other a lot!
Need him to be your driver guy while you raid a billionaire's estate? Sure!
Need him to catch you in case you fall while flinging yourself onto a fire breathing dragon to kill it? He gotchu
Need his blood for a ritual to summon a god who may either destroy the entire planet you're on or help you? He's in.
You don't even have to explain why you need it, his hand's already outstretches and he's reaching for his knife someone stop him-
You: "I only needed a little..."
Him: "(with a large pool of blood under him) Oh"
I wasn't actually planning to write for this but uhhhh.....life happens
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr headcanons#hsr x reader#argenti x reader#sampo x reader#aventurine x reader#boothill x reader#reader insert#x reader#hsr argenti#hsr aventurine#hsr sampo#hsr boothill#maybe I'll revisit this when I'm more free lol. love this dynamic#c00kie.writes#ask#anon
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𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆.. | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
he might have just discovered another side of you and to be honest.. it turned him on
warnings(17+). smut, meandom!sunghoon, unprotected sex, name calling (bitch), creampie, backshots, dumbification
your best friend had just found your secret blog on tumblr where you wrote about all of the sexual desires you’ve had for him.
you had thought that you made the blog so discreetly, faking your own identity and who you were writing about. you had thought. nevertheless, sunghoon managed to find out that the blog belonged to you.
and it was unhinged; you wrote about how you would imagine him leaving wet kisses all over your aching body while he’s balls deep in you. or how you couldn’t even stare at him without thinking about fucking him.
how soaking wet your panties would be every time he would come over to chill. or how when you’d watch a movie with him, you would spend the whole time thinking of dirty scenarios: shower sex, angry sex, make up sex, floor sex, wall sex, pool sex, sex, sex, sex.
and you documented it all.. because why not? you wanted all your girlies who interacted with you to know how you felt about that man. you had no shame because of course he would never find the blog.
but damn, were you wrong.
it made your blood run cold when your “secret” username slipped past his lips. all the air in your lungs were stolen from that simple sentence.
“so that’s not you?” he cocked his head with that stupid know–it-all look on his face.
how.. when..?
“i read the stuff you wrote about me and it’s…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “wild.”
“it wasn’t even about you.” you argued, trying to act as nonchalant as fucking possible. it wasn’t working. sunghoon could see right through you.
“so the S guy you write about isn’t me?” he questioned.
well.. in your defense you were one-hundred percent sure that he or anyone else wouldn’t figure out it was about sunghoon just by the first letter of his name.
“you have a really big ego. what if i was talking about sunoo?” you interrogated, trying to flee from the scene but he took a step forward, firmly gripping your arm.
“d’you really think i’m dumb?” he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips as he spoke, “hm?”
“i-i said it wasn’t about you.” you said again. his grip on your arm had your stomach churning in arousal. your heart was racing, and you were certain that he could feel your pulse through your arm.
sunghoon tsked at your lie, “cool.”
maybe it was manifestation, or just pure luck. but that same arm was yanked behind you as sunghoon plunged his hips into you, splitting you open on his thick cock.
he cooed at your cute attempts at trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. “none of that— quit trying to run from it..” sunghoon grunted, voice trembling from how soft your walls were around his cock, “you was talking all that on your blog and can’t even take it? tsk.”
you hummed at his word, spit pooling in your mouth from being so fucked that you couldn’t even remember to swallow anymore. “m’ s.. sorry, fffuck!” you squealed, but it didn’t stop his harsh thrusts.
he pushed your head into the mattress, treating your aching body like his personal fleshlight, “you’re such a dirty bitch. made to be fucked, huh?” sunghoon groaned at how wet you were and the sounds your cunt made. it was so filthy and only got him throbbing more and more inside of you.
he shoved two slender fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your throat as drool spilled down your chin, fingers digging into the mattress beneath you. you remembered writing about how much you’d love for this to happen. and it happened.
clenching hard around him, sunghoon pulled his fingers from your throat and wiped your own salvia across your face. “nasty girl.” he grunted, breathless.
you delivered a guttural scream when he smacked your ass, repeatedly. your thighs quivered as you tried to escape the pain, only to be forced still by his large hands. “c-can’t, i can’t! please..” you wined, screaming into the bedsheets.
“this is what you wanted, right?” sunghoon teased, referring back to your blog, “you greedy bitch, stay still and take this dick.”
you’re sooo full of dick that you can’t breathe properly. you were certain that you were taking all of him, but you can feel him sinking deeper and deeper into you as time passed. “i-i love your cock.. h-hoonie. s’ good, l-let me cum.” you whined.
“shiiit, go ahead.”
it took a long, hasty few seconds before you were convulsing around him and coming hard, harder than you’ve ever came in your life; everything cut to white noise and clear liquid spilled out of your cunt as his hips shuttered against you.
“that’s right.. keep squirting that filthy pussy for me.” sunghoon moaned. then he pulsed inside of you and shot his thick, sticky load into your cunt, painting your walls with his fluids.
it was like every muscle in your body had stopped working, body falling limp onto the bed. sunghoon stilled above you, pulling out to watch his cum flood and drip out of you.
“next time when you lend me your laptop, close your damn tabs Y/N.”
#hottestvirginwrites#smut#kpop smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen smut#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#sunghoon
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Bones and All - Part 1
Part 1, Part 2 - wip
Tags / cw: Cannibal!reader x Vampire!Ellie, reader is a psychopath, Ellie is over 100 but physically 23, reader is around 27-30, reader is sophisticated/classy, gore, blood, suggestive, dark themes - read at your discretion, murders, drugging, cannibalism, reader is rich
On Monday, you were reckless. Starved. It had been three days since you had last feasted. And even now, after catching a meal, it was only a leg. The poor victim crawling away in agony as you dined on his limbs. And when he dared to pause his escape, to look back at the sight of you tearing through flesh with your teeth - your white cocktail dress now wine red, drenched with his life - he screamed.
"Y-you fucking monster!" He was dry heaving at this point, saliva and snot and tears dripping out as his body tried to keep itself alive.
You merely turned to look at him, and grinned - bearing your red teeth.
"And what did your wife call you? When you hit her? When you killed her?"
He whimpered in realisation. This, this wasn't some random attack. This was planned, methodical. This was karma. Whatever god that ruled above had breathed a purpose into you, as a vessel of retribution. You simply took back what your victims stole. A life for a life.
"Darling, don't act so righteous. You and I? We are no different." You were almost patronising, void of any empathy, any remorse.
He promptly passed out. Either from the blood loss or the shock - or both, you considered - it made cleaning up easier when the mess wasn't screaming for help. Unfortunately, the pill you slipped into his glass didn't work for long. You realised as such when you noticed his brows scrunch as you dragged him out of your car and into the forest. God, there was so much blood. Painting the forest floor, the fallen Winter leaves now reflecting the colour of Autumn. It was nauseating.
And usually, you were meticulous. In choosing your victims (who were always as evil as you, in their crimes, their abuses), in luring them out of hiding, in drugging them until you killed. You made sure to be inviting, enticing, making them eager to have dinner at your manor, or drinks at a quiet bar.
Of course, dining at home was easier for you to slip something in their food, but most bars were dark enough for a dissolving pill to go unnoticed. And sometimes you enjoyed going out - the thrill of possibly getting caught, the clouded eyes of your victims thinking you were taking them to bed. Well, you did, but it was to their deathbed, rather.
You would undress them, bathe them, even talk to them. Because who knows? Maybe they could still hear you in their dreams, amidst all the drugs in their system. Then, in a bathtub filled halfway with warm water, you would slit their throat. And you would let them drain until there wasn't any blood left. Because unlike your other, more famous peers, you hated blood. Its metallic taste on your tongue oh-so unpleasant, when you'd rather savour the other delicacies in humans.
But this time, you had no choice. The son of a bitch woke up halfway home. You had to take a detour into the forestry surrounding the manor. You had to eat. You couldn't wait any longer. That sense of panicked urgency now overtaking your ravenous hunger. And as the drugs wore off, he was thankfully still weak enough to drag outside, and leave laying against a tree. But as the drugs wore off, he screamed and begged for his life when the glint of your knife shone under the moonlight.
You just begged for some peace and quiet while having dinner. But, some dreams would only remain dreams. And he would remain screaming as the knife sunk in.
So that night, you ate. A disgusting, bloody meal. But a meal nonetheless. It tasted horrible, but it would last you another few days - it was enough for now. The creatures of the forest would eat the rest.
On Monday, Ellie smelled the blood. It was fresh.
On Tuesday, Ellie found the source. 7 miles away, in some forest in the middle of nowhere. Wolves, surrounding a carcass of what was once a man, now just fertiliser. The leaves, damp from early morning fog, squelched under her feet as she got closer. And vampires, being at the top of the food chain, bowed to no-one. The wolves ran away at the sight of her.
"Holy shit..."
It was missing a fucking leg. A clean cut - the wolves weren't this clean in hunting. And it couldn't be because of the wolves - they never attacked people. This was a body, left in the forest, missing a fucking leg - and Ellie didn't know why.
For a moment, she suspected another vampire in her territory. This was in the outskirts after all, maybe they didn't recognise her markings. But vampires didn't do this. They were discrete - which was part of the reason why it was so difficult to hunt in this era, with the amount of fucking CCTV everywhere. Ellie herself hadn't eaten in weeks. This? This was a fucking mess. There were clothes thrown everywhere, the body was still identifiable, and the smell reached miles on every side.
But most importantly, there was blood. So much blood. And Ellie was a vampire, for fucks sake. Another vampire wouldn't kill for no reason - and this looked like the blood was avoided on purpose. Her mouth watered. Fuck, it was unintentional - this was so gruesome she could have thrown up at the sight. But the coat of fresh blood spread everywhere made her wish the body was still alive - still warm.
So Ellie was confused. And honestly? She was really fucking spooked, too. This forest was quiet - eerie even. There were no birds singing, no crickets chirping, even though they should have been wide awake. It screamed of danger, even to her. Vampires were predators, but for some reason, Ellie felt like prey. Her leg started twitching, begging her to run out of this place, lest it be next.
So she got out of there as fast as she could, in whatever direction was in front of her. The fog, still cold and damp, blanketed both the forest floor and herself, and Ellie couldn’t tell if it was the temperature or nervous that send the chill down her spine - but she ran. And after an hour, spent narrowly missing hidden branches and rocks (No, she didn't trip), she found a break in the clearing. Thank god.
Wait, was that a manor?
…
She ran the wrong way.
"Son of a-"
"Fuck these fucking forests and their fucking trees and their fucking rocks and houses-" She kicked a nearby tree, breaking the trunk in half. Then a rock, then the dirt. The volume of her yelling caused the birds to fly out of the trees. She glared at them, and then ran back to the proper way out. Fuck the blood for smelling so enticing.
On Tuesday, You heard commotion in the clearing near your house. But no human dared to come near, so you blamed it on the wild animals.
On Wednesday, You built an appetite. But so did Ellie. And this time, you were prepared.
On your bedside table sat a sugar bowl, a vintage style of ornate - only the sweets worthy enough deserved to be held within. It was rather beautiful, as the early morning sun gently reflected off the edge of it. It garnered your attention, as you slowly woke up. And slowly, as you leaned against the headboard of your bed, and reached over to sit it on your lap, your mouth watered at the promise of the treats inside. Today was the day.
You took the little gold lid off, eyeing the candy inside. Each piece wrapped in a different type of paper than the last. You licked your lips tentatively - what would you fancy today? Gooseberry? No, you had that one two days ago. How about Grapefruit instead? A tough choice to make, given the amount of flavours to choose from. Gently, your fingers circled the rim of the bowl, tracing the intricacies drawn onto the china, before you dipped your hand into the bowl and pulled a piece out at random.
The pastel green wrapper crinkled as you unwrapped it, before popping the candy in your mouth and closing your eyes as you savoured its taste. Green apple - an old favourite of yours. Though, it had definitely been a while since you last had that one in particular, because they were always the hardest to catch. Hidden in the ridges and bumps of the bowl, seen rarely, and chosen even lesser. Hm, you had your work set out for you tomorrow.
You clenched your fist in contemplation, and felt a poke from the crinkled wrapper still in your hands. You almost forgot. And at your favourite part nonetheless! You sat your self up, now cross legged on the bed as you unfolded the wrapper in anticipation. It was silent for a moment, as you raised a brow, absorbing the information in front of you.
Oh?
Written, in small font, was her information. Her age, her name, her crime. A lovely choice. And it was ironic, that out of all the ways she would be punished for it, you were her executioner. How cyclical, you thought. But never mind that, for she was just another victim to get rid of - nothing more, nothing less. You bit down on the candy, breaking it inside your mouth. It’s sour taste clouding your senses as you contemplated your methods. And yet, it would be a shame not to have fun with this one, after all, it wasn't often you feasted on one of her kind.
'Ellie Williams, 23, vampire.'
A dinner party at your manor would suffice, to lure her into your clutches, and to celebrate your forthcoming victory.
On Wednesday, Ellie was reckless. Starved. 3 weeks since she had last fed - and she was ready to do anything for another taste.
Taglist: @bready101 @elliewilliamsblunt @aouiaa @strangehuman101 @lov3lylotus @wishbones999 @seraphicsentences @les4elliewilliams @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi
#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us 2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams#Ellie Williams the last of us#Ellie Williams tlou#Ellie Williams the last of us 2#Ellie Williams tlou2#tlou
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hiii jade, hope you're having a lovely day/night <3
can i request sirius comforting r after a hard day of studies? maybe with some good ol' domestic fluff?
it's exam season at my school and my world is getting absolutely rocked
thank you for your request <3
“You look tired.”
“That’s not very nice, is it?” you ask, no maliciousness in your tone nor sarcasm. You sound as sapped for energy as you look, shoulders aching profoundly in a line down your entire back, your eyes sluggish from a day spent reading, and testing yourself, and then reading again.
Sirius leans against the doorway. He’d been waiting for you when you got here at the time you’d promised, and here he remains looking at you like he might want to eat you or, at least, give you a kiss. He puts his arms behind his back and a slip of his stomach flashes under the cropped length of his t-shirt, exposing pale skin and a threading of dark hair.
“Too tired for manners,” he says, clocking your ogling.
“You flashed me. You’re a flasher.”
You’re too tired to stand there flirting, letting the bag that hangs on your shoulder slip to your elbow, and knowing already that Sirius will take it from you. He proves your anticipation correct, closing the small gap between you to grab the strap.
It’s his kiss you aren’t expecting. Sirius takes your shoulder in his opposite hand to keep you still, his chin ever so slightly raised as he presses his lips to your forehead. You indulge the both of you and let yourself tilt forward.
“Did you take lots of breaks?” he asks.
Not really. “Yeah. I’m tired.”
“I know,” he says sympathetically. “No more tonight. Let me take you inside.”
Sirius begins a half-dragging of sorts, ferrying you into his flat and on to his bed. Sirius is a loving guy, even if he’s hard to understand sometimes; you can’t work out how he’s feeling right now, but you can sense the tenderness in his hands as he unties your shoelaces and pulls your shoes from your feet. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t question you anymore about your day, and many might label him uncaring but he’s too busy trying to get you feeling comfortable to ask.
He pulls your hoodie carefully over your head so as not to jostle your chin, unfastens your belt and unbuttons your jeans. Then he pushes his arms under yours and carries you to the top of the bed (not carry, really, but manhandle seems too rough a word). “Okay?” he asks.
He looks you in the face. He really, truly cares. It would be startling if you didn’t know him well already.
“Yeah, I’m just tired. Can I have a glass of water?”
He nods softly. “You can take your jeans off without me? I’ll get you something with less buttons to change into. And some biscuits.” He’s halfway down the hallway when he adds, “Or I can forget the thing with less buttons.”
You burrow into his white sheets and breathe in deeply. They smell like his shampoo, a consequence of his tendency to sleep with wet hair, but they’re perfectly dry under your cheek, and terribly smooth. You rub your nose into his pillow as you relax for the first time all day. For a few seconds the cacophony of lecture slides and textbooks melts away, because you’re here in his bed with your boyfriend so eager to take care of you.
His hand where it lands on your back only cements this. “Don’t fall asleep, please. I just need ten minutes to make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m okay.” You pull your face up. “Did you bring me a biscuit?”
“Brought you everything I promised,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw chastely. “I know it’s hard right now, but it’s not forever. You’re doing well. In a month we’ll be spending our Saturdays entirely in bed. You won’t have jeans on for a minute.”
You sigh happily. “Will you take them off for me? Too tired.”
He takes them off, and he pulls the blanket over you murmuring about the cold before he lays next to you with his arm over your back to ask in whispers about your day. Your answers come in dribs and drabs, so tired you forget the water you’d wanted or his promised biscuits.
You fall asleep under his touch. He kisses your squished nose.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius x reader fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#marauders era#marauders#sirius black drabble#sirius black scenario#sirius black oneshot#the marauders#sirius orion black
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Bestfriend Reader in a skirt casually sitting on eddies lap and when she gets up/or maybe eddie realizes she left a wet patch on his leg
Bestfriend!Eddie gets cockwarmed. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.
(I got so carried away here!! Thank you for this prompt<3)
Eddie’s trailer wasn’t the most spacious of places, but when he offered to have movie night there rather than the Harrington mansion, you all politely agreed.
That’s how you got in this situation. Robin and Vicky were nestled up under a blanket on the floor surrounded by pillows, they seriously looked like something from a cheesy teen movie, it was such an adorable sight. Nancy and Jonathan sat side by side on the couch, his head leaning on her left shoulder and her fingers combing through his fringe, muttering something about him needing a hair cut. Steve was sat to the right of you cradling a pillow. He looked sweet all cuddled into it, his nose wrinkled up as his face pushes into the pillow, and you, were sat on Eddie’s lap.
It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to be physically affectionate with Eddie, you’d known each other since you were three. He’d showered and taken baths with you when you were kids when the Munson’s water supply was cut off from tough times with money and your mom always let them use your bath tub and shower when they needed it. He’d seen you grow from a little toddler into what you are today, 5’5 and 21 years old. He’d seen all of your style experiments to try and figure out who you were, but you were always so jealous of Eddie. He knew who he was from a young age. I mean he forced you to listen to KISS and Metallica when you were pre-teens. He knew what he wanted and what he liked, you admired that. You admired him.
Your back facing his chest, heat radiating under the blanket he’d hauled over the pair of you. You didn’t bat an eyelid when his hand snuck under your shirt, drawing little patterns with his finger tips on your skin. Tracing your spine and writing curse words with his nails, it tickled. It was soft and oh so soothing. He walked his fingers up your back, pretending as if his pointer and middle fingers were a persons legs. Getting closer and closer to the back of your neck and your head tilted back with a jolt. You turn around to face him, a look of playful annoyance plastered over your face but ruined with a smile when you were met with Eddie’s devious smirk.
He pouts, silently saying how he’ll make it up to you. He didn’t say that with words, but you knew. You and Eddie could almost read each other’s minds, it was a little scary. His fingers swoop over your back again, but this time slower and gentler. It was a barely there touch. His fingers felt featherlight as they grazed up and down your back, with both hands added now. Lifting your hand to cover your smile, a feeling of relaxation washed over you. Whilst whatever movie Robin had chosen seemed interesting, all you could think about and feel, was Eddie.
Before you knew it, you felt your throat let out a groan. A guttural moan, it was quiet and thankfully covered up by the background sound of the movie. But Eddie’s hands didn’t stop, they teased your sides, open palm rubbing up and down them. You squint your eyes shut tightly, but your brain is filled with thoughts. Thoughts of the night when the tension got too much for you, the night Eddie leant in and kissed you. He tasted of weed, you were both as high as a kite but the melody of his playing corroded coffin tape set the scene so well. He rubbed your sides just like this when you were sat on his lap last time. Only last time, he was inside you.
The burning desire in the pit of your stomach ached for more again. Rutting your body slowly across Eddie’s thigh, rolling your hips just like you did on his cock before. The feel of his denim clad thigh harsh against your clothed clit, you hide to bite your lip to hold back a moan. Eddie just felt so good. He definitely knew what you were doing, he began to bounce you on his thigh, slowly at first but picking up the pace when he felt your hands find their way to his. He rocks you, backwards and forwards, rubbing your clit against him. Pleasure washes over you completely, you’re blissed out. He begins to buck his hips beneath you, feeling his hard cock hit against your ass. You just wished he’d slide your panties aside and let you cock warm here right here, right now. He thrusts against you again, you wonder if he’s leaking in his boxers. You’d do anything to taste his pearlescent beads of cum, so you wriggle your ass in his lap. You get away with it too, pretending like you’re dancing to the music the movie is playing. Teasing him and feeling him grow harder and harder underneath you, letting him thrust against the small of your back.
Until he stops. Turns you to face him by his finger and thumb grasping your chin, “Not here, behave and you can have a special treat later.” He teases, not missing your eyes widening and the blush spread across your face at his words. After he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, you turn back and try to focus on the movie but your mind is elsewhere. It’s so fucking tedious, even if you weren’t distracted you’d find this movie boring, you make a mental note to joke about the plot holes of this film with Steve later, he definitely feels the same about Robin’s movie choices because he is in fact snoring into the pillow.
It all feels never ending, you’re so turned on and there’s nothing you can do but sit and wait, feeling Eddie’s cock deflate and turn soft underneath you. But after 40 excruciatingly long minutes when all you can feel is the throbbing between your thighs and the uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties, cold and wet against your pussy, the movie finishes.
The party clear up their mess and the guests leave, Nancy and Jonathan drive Steve home. Robin and Vicky walk back to Vicky’s parent’s house, a “slumber party” they had told them. Leaving you and Eddie, alone. You stand up for the first time in hours, stretching your arms above your head. Eddie’s arms clasp around your middle, and he pulls you back onto the couch, pinning your arms to the cushion.
Pointing at the now dampened and discoloured material of his jeans, “look at that. You soaked me through, princess. Your pussy drenched my thigh, in front of all of our friends. So dirty.” He cooed, his voice breathy and drowning in need. Eddie’s hand lets go of your wrists and begins to palm over his jeans, a tent shape that had been there for a while now. His pants looked tight, like the button was about to pop off and his cock spring out. “Had me so fucking hard for so long, now it’s time for your treat huh?”
#mine#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x female reader smut#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#requests#eddie blurb#blurb#smut#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#Eddie Munson imagine#Eddie Munson blurb#stranger things#eddie the freak munson#eddie x fem reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie munson smut fic#Eddie Munson x reader blurb
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heyyy! i really love your writing🥹🥹 btw can i request a hc with riddle and jamil (separated) with gn!reader who’s very lazy and they have a test and only study the morning before the test? but somehow pass?? i wanna see their reaction
anyway sorry if i made any mistakes, this is my very first request and english is not my first language😔 it’s fine if you can’t do it!!
-🎲
no worries! this is a great request, their reactions would be very funny
summary: reader miraculously passes a test they last-minute studied for
type of post: headcanons
characters: riddle, jamil
additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread
Jamil knew that it wasn't his place to judge
after all, being raised with the al-Asims, he'd been taught to keep his bitter thoughts to himself
but something about your carelessness reminded him all too much of Kalim
...okay... maybe you weren't exactly partying, or spacing out, but your complete lack of conviction is almost identical
and, so, Jamil decides to give you a word of advice the day before the big exam
"Worried about tomorrow's History of Magic test?"
he even gives you a big smile, trying to play it off as a casual question
you shrug. "Eh, not really,"
"If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned. The grading system is very strict at NRC,"
and with that, he's gone
his sly remark, spoken as if in friendly conversation, leaves him feeling a little more satisfied with himself
he doesn't even feel irked when Kalim nearly sleeps through the test, or when he forgets his notes, or when he absent-mindedly reads the questions aloud during...
in fact, Jamil is quite confident that in any case, you'll do much worse than Kalim, which saves the both of them
after the exam scores are posted in the hall, you find him
"What did you get?"
Jamil hates answering these kinds of questions, especially knowing that he could be in the top of the class if he was allowed to try. "Passing. And you?"
"Well..." you smile. "I really thought about what you said, so I studied this morning."
Jamil's sour mood at his own score seems to lighten
you studied the morning of the exam? oh, this was going to be rich
"...And I got full marks!"
...what.
you show him the paper and it takes all his strength to keep his usual poker face
otherwise, his jaw would drop
"How did... how?"
you shrug. "Good study plan, I guess,"
"Hmph," he crosses his arms. "Well, then... you'll have to come tutor Kalim sometime. What works for you must work for him,"
Riddle spends the entire week pestering you about studying
"I just don't feel like it," you groan
goodness. you sound just like that terrible Floyd...
"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of need. This exam counts for a significant amount of your grade!"
"Eh... I'll just wing it,"
wing it?! oh, now you've really done it
"Consider yourself lucky for not being a part of Heartslabyul. I would have your head for that!"
and then he storms out. how graceful!
when he sees you the following afternoon, that calm, unbothered look of yours is still on your face. it drives him mad
"If I were you, I'd be praying," he says. he's almost smug about it
Riddle earns full points on every exam- it's just a given. he's sure that the two of you will be on polar opposites of the grade spectrum once the results are posted
you shrug. "Yeah, about that... I thought about what you said, and decided that I don't want to have to retake this class. So I studied this morning,"
he almost smirks. "One last-minute cram won't be enough to raise your grade above failing, I'm afraid. But perhaps this will serve as a lesson, next time you-"
Riddle stops dead in his tracks as Trein posts the exam results on the wall behind you
his eyes widen
"Full... full marks?! We're in the same percent!? How is that possible?!"
You chuckle as his face goes all red, both frustrated and flustered
"Hey, you should count this as a victory for yourself. You give great advice,"
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Michael Kaiser — Mean
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader
WORD COUNT: 6.4k
TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending)
WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues
The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.
Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.
You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.
Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.
Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.
___
The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.
It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.
But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.
What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”
A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.
“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.
You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.
The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”
She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.
“Can you make one?”
“No…”
“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”
“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”
“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”
“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.
You don’t dignify that with a reply either.
Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”
“Then why’d you do that?”
“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.
“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”
The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.
Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.
Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.
___
For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.
Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.
Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.
“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.
“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”
He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.
You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”
You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”
“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”
“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.
Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement.
“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”
You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.
“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”
“I’m disgusted,” you say.
“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”
“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”
Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.
“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.
“But my manager said-”
“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.
“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”
“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”
“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”
“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”
“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’
“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”
Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”
“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.
After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”
“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.
“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.
He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”
“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”
“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.
“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”
“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”
“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”
This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”
“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”
“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”
Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?
“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”
“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”
You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”
“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”
You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.
“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”
“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”
“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”
“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”
You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that.”
“Why this desire all of a sudden?”
“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”
“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”
Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.
“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.
___
Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.
Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.
“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.
The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”
You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”
“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”
“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”
“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”
“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”
“I like your sense of humor.”
“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”
“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.
You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”
“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”
With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”
“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”
“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”
“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”
You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.
___
Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.
He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.
The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”
“I see you’re still thinking about that.”
“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”
“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”
Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”
“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.
He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”
Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”
“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”
“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”
“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”
Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”
“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.
“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”
“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”
“I practice. What do you take me for?”
You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”
Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.
The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.
Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.
___
It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.
But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”
You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.
It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.
There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.
“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.
Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.
“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.
“I don’t think it’s me.”
“It’s quite literally you.”
“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”
“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.
“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”
“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”
“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”
“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”
“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”
“In what position?”
“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”
Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.
“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”
“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”
“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”
“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”
You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”
Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”
A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?
Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?
“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.
“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”
“So are you.”
Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.
“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.
“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”
“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”
“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.
___
Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.
Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.
Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.
At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.
Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?
Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.
“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless as objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.
Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”
“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”
The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.
“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”
In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.
___
You really don’t want to be having this conversation.
For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.
“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.
“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”
“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”
Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.
“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”
She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”
Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”
“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”
“No.”
“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”
You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”
“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”
That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”
You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.
___
You despise being in situations. And making decisions.
There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.
Maybe because you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.
Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.
But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.
You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,’ but it’s so preposterous.
Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.
“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”
God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”
“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”
You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.
“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”
Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”
“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”
“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”
“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”
You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”
“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.
Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.
“Answer me,” you demand.
“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”
…
…
“… What?”
“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.
“Do you have a brain tumor?”
The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”
“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”
“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.
“So were you asking me out or what?”
“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”
“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”
“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”
You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”
Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”
What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.
Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.
When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”
You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”
(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)
___
Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?
Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE
#michael kaiser x reader#blue lock x reader#kaiser x reader#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#michael kaiser x you
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Sending in anon because I'm a coward... 😩
I'm a new reader, and I just have to say-- your "a doe in fall" series is just... AMAZING!!
I could go on, and on and on about how much I love it. But what gets me the most is always Alastor's dialogue, because as someone who is also on the aro/ace spectrum, I just get it so much. Especially the subtle hoping that reader can like... Read his mind about how he feels for her, and the weird sort of stockholm syndrome we sometimes develop with ourselves after being alone with only our own company for so long, and it really is, lol, like you just get so used to being alone for so long because you know the idea people have of you, you can't truly live up to, so you don't want to "disappoint" them that you actually aren't like they are, so you just sorta... Keep them occupied at arms length-- Therefore you're forced to adapt to your company being the only love you have for a long time. it's like an obligation.
And when or if the special somebody who understands you comes along, you realize... "Wow, I've been living like this for so long, is this what it feels like to be loved and appreciated, in spite of my oddities, or maybe even in favor of them? Strange..."
Emphasis on the "strange" part because, when you're so deeply entrenched in your own soul, sharing your space for another almost feels more like learning how to swim rather than an instant "click", sparks, fireworks and whatnot. The excitement of the magical "other" has been long since drowned and snuffed out of you.
So, when this somebody who is similar to you, or just simply understands, doesn't try to change you or ignore you, but instead envelopes you and adores you, the appreciation is deep and overflowing. But there's a part of you always pinching your heart, a sort of awareness of something that isn't the case, wondering "Is this a dream? what if it is and I'll wake up and this is not at all what I was thinking?".
Haha... ANYWAY, sorry for the slightly morose and LONG read 😂 But I always think of how similar I am to how you write alastor and it's scary in a way, but comforting (especially since he's my first and biggest fictional crush) except in this case my profession would actually be burlesque. Especially since I work in the exotic dance world. It's fascinating being aro/ace in the SW world, I could go on forever- But yeah, I absolutely love your writing!! Makes me feel less alone in this world. Annnd surprisingly I always feel so sensual after reading, I love love love it!! Reading before work always gets me in the mood to dance and pretend I'm Y/N, lol!!
Much blessings ❤️❤️
*cracks knuckles* listen here babycakes, I eat this shit UP. Exploring Human Ace Alastor is my BREAD AND BUTTER. I go into ESSAYS in the AO3 comments in this 😂
you really understand, which makes me so happy and is confirmation I’m conveying him the way I want to.
Now I’m gonna ramble and echo you basically 😂
I really think Alastor (atleast in this story) feels that excitement and strangeness of how open he can be around Autumn (since she doesn’t have a proper name cuz she’s reader 😂). He’s a fish out of water despite the fact he’s actually being his most authentic self. Like you said, it’s new to him just to be … Alastor. To be honest and upfront. His normal operating mode has been so restricted for so long he’s struggling with how to be himself. And then that fear—- well what if I’m too much? What if I ruin this, when I finally have something worth keeping? He’s never gotten this far and the fear of losing that comfort is terrifying but so is the actual comfort itself. It’s new and foreign.
A deep uneasiness that’s if he fully embraces this he’s gonna just fuck it up and it’ll be his fault this time. Not a misunderstanding or misalignment of needs but a confirmation he wasn’t good enough anyway.
“it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” he would say that’s bullshit
and because of the situations he’s been in before, he’s never gotten to actually explore physical intimacy in a “safe” environment. He was always going into interactions because he had to if he wanted to keep people around. It was a necessity, not something he actually sincerely wanted to participate. So he tried to keep them happy with other means of affection and intimacy to maintain some safe distance but eventually, always, things would fall apart. At a distance or up close.
that’s why that most recent part was called Learning. Alastor is trying new things to learn more about what he’s okay with or doesn’t care for even offering in the future. Autumn is learning (that night, tho she doesn’t understand it yet) that he’s still figuring out how to meet her halfway (even tho she’s not even asking for that) when he’s used to being forced to meet people where they are.
And Detective Brady, of course, is learning he may have found motive for Tommy’s disappearance.
I’m really glad you’re enjoying his portrayal and that you’re resonating with parts of him! That makes my soul hum! 💖 your line of work mixed with your Aro/Ace-ness sounds like such an interesting conversation if we’re honest! That’s a small aspect I love about Autumn. She’s in this field that’s (wrongly) considered to be hyper sexual and full of air headed wanton whores, but she’s the first person to be like “oh! You aren't into this stuff. Let me adjust my expectations. I’ll ask for clear verbal consent, not initiate, and I’m totally okay with never fucking again if it’s for your love and company.”
I work in the SW industry in a sense (Personal Assistant) and one of my biggest pet peeves is all of the shit people project on SWers.
sorry for the essay I could talk about this for ETERNITY
omg and THANK YOU! 🥺💖💖💖💖
Referencing:
A Doe in Fall (Human Alastor x Burlesquer Fem Reader)
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦
Part 2 - Liar smut💦
Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦
Part 4 - Enough
Part 5 - Too Much
Part 6 - Learning smut💦
#alastor x reader#ace alastor#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader smut#alastor smut#fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader
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Dave is not an idiot! [DSaF Rant/Short Essay]
This is gonna be a bit of a yap fest, so if you don’t want to read my entire rant and just want the tldr, then here’s a summary in image form:
I don’t have a complete idea if how I’m going to format or construct this rant, so.. yeah… my bad if it’s kind of messy. I will warn you now, a lot of this information is from memory or obtained from my friend [who knows DSaF info way more/better than me lmao], so I apologize for lack of evidence, but I PROMISE this stuff is able to be proven or agreed upon.
One of my biggest pet peeves in the DSaF fandom, aside from the abundance of employee x boss ships, people making fun of Henry’s body/drawing him skinny, people babying Jack + Dave, and people changing characters’ confirmed/implied sexualities? Oh, you bet your ass it’s when people act like Dave is stupid, dumb, an idiot, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if the people who portray him as such or agree with such portrayals have ever even played the games or paid attention to his character! Of course, I’d probably understand if you just haven’t finished all the games, maybe missed a few routes, some bits and pieces of dialogue, or just saw fan-made content of him being painted as an idiot before you really got to know his character and went into the fandom thinking those were accurate to him! I get that, I understand where you’re coming from if that’s your case! But alas, I am a fan who occupies that rage of a thousand suns when such a complex, three-dimensional, well-written character is watered down to an “uwu yaoi soft boy who doesn’t know anything”.
I’d also like to add before I get to my points that … saying Dave is “dumb” for believing Henry’s lies and manipulation is.. kind of victim-blaming, innit? Even before Henry lobotomized Dave, Henry intentionally planted into Dave’s head the idea that they’re “family”, and family sticks together! Henry took advantage of Dave’s desperation for a family, a father-figure, for his own gain and amusement. Just letting you know! Don’t say Dave’s stupid for being manipulated!!
First of all, Dave is trilingual; He can fluently/decently speak English, Russian, and German! Hell, he might even speak FOUR languages, with his use of French in DSaF 2 (this is referring to when he says “Au revoir, babe!” to Jack)! I don’t know if you know this, but being able to decently/fluently speak several languages is quite difficult and takes a long while to learn!!!! It’s not clearly stated which is Dave’s first language, but i’d assume it’s maybe english or russian. In DSaF 1-2, Dave is forty-two years old, and is approximately seventy-eight in DSaF 3 — If one were to assume that he only spoke English and a bit of French in DSaF 1-2, he’d have 30-40ish years to learn Russian and German.. but you have to take into account that learning new languages is more difficult the older you are.. ok that last part is mainly just hypothetical/speculations, but you get where I’m coming from.. I doubt a homeless child with purple skin/nonhuman traits [features of him that were deemed undesirable and caused him to get kicked out of the orphanage — so i assume people just wanted to avoid him in general] and little-to-no education had the resources needed to learn a new language, let alone multiple… but that’s just my thoughts!
My second point, as you can see in the image, refers to when Dave knew how to play instruments (or an instrument? The trombone is definitely one of them) when he was younger and living on the streets. Again, learning instruments is difficult, but learning on your OWN?? WITHOUT HAVING PROPER EDUCATION?? Yeah man.. that boy’s wise… Also, I’ve been told by my awesome cool friend [ribena59p] that one of the songs that Dave learned BY HIMSELF [on trombone] is “Singing In The Rain”. I don’t have much to say on this point because I think it is pretty self-explanatory/clear.
Third, and I cannot believe people manage to forget this detail [unless they haven’t played DSaF 3 / The Evil Route]; The Fazbunker… You know,,, the bunker Dave built himself under Fredbear’s Family Diner that has several monitors connected to cameras in Jack’s house that STILL work in DSaF 3 [assuming they were initially installed in DSaF 1-2], and has a path to the inside of Jack’s house… yeah!
To add onto point 3; When in his little underground enclosure, Dave also mentions the advanced animatronics he built by himself. The robots in question are clearly meant to be the Funtime animatronics, as they’re described to be chrome, and one specifically was made to scare a Phone Guy who was afraid of clowns [meaning, the specific animatronic in question is Circus Baby]. There was also a brief allusion to the scooper, or of a person hired to be there, and the fact that Jack was possibly the person in question… but this post isn’t about Jack, so I don’t care.
To expand on this… God, he loves tinkering. Dave even says this himself… Like, verbatim! Two of the best examples off the top of my head is when Dave modifies Foxy — One instance is for the purpose of tormenting/horrifying Peter, the other was with the intention of … Jack fucking it. How considerate of Dave! This can also be applied to the previous two points, him creating the Fazbunker and Funtime animatronics, but I felt like it was an honorable mention that deserves its own section!!
Sixth of all, and this section is going to be brief as well [since it’s a bit difficult to get an exact instance of this], but.. yeah, Dave has a great vocabulary! This alone doesn’t mean he’s highly intelligent or whatever, but it DOES point to the fact that even after missing out on a significant amount education as a child, he is still somewhat book-smart!! I mean, compared to Jack’s vocabulary [which mainly consists of more casual and memey words/phrases/tones, prominently in DSaF 1-2], Dave’s is … better. I mean,,, the dude says “adversaries”,,, who the hell says that regularly??
My next point is .. incredibly obvious. You know, Dave being able to get away with several counts of serial child murder, and taking the identity of Henry’s son. I feel like this shouldn’t even have to be explained, because identity theft and getting away with murder SEVERAL TIMES is definitely going to require amounts of advanced thinking and planning ahead of time. Sneaky lil’ bastard. I don’t know how he gets away with faking his identity, but.. you go girl! Steal that dead baby’s name!
Hell, there might even be MORE evidence that backs up my claim, but as of right now I’m just listing things from my memory! I’d like to add that, yes, at some points Dave can act foolish and stupid, but that doesn’t mean he IS stupid. If you were to pick between Dave and Jack on who’s less intelligent, it should.. be Jack, actually. There’s a possibility I will add onto or edit this in the future, but these are just my thoughts as of now!! I got that DOG in me..
But hey, that’s just a theory rant, a GAME THEORY RANT! Thanks for reading!
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Curled Gloves.
Authors note: Just me trying to do a character study. Need to learn how to write for this man <(_ _)> Will probably delete later.
Oh, and for those curious, the type of welding reader is doing is called TIG
Let the puddle build and pull back, keep the nozzle in place for steady gas flow, feed the filler through your fingers with every passing second as you once again dip the rod into the bright orange and red pool the was forming under your hands. Your handiwork.
Don't weave.
Don't press down too much and accidentally increase the heat.
Keep your hands steady.
All something you've done time and time again that this action is so ingrained in your brain it has become second nature. As they say, one can never forget how to ride a bike. Welding is much the same.
So why were you struggling so much today? Well the answer was right there as you moved your foot off the pedal, looming over the work that wasn't even fully done up with a half finished bead as, through your hood, you looked up at the man who was staring you down this entire time.
Dottore. Or Prime. Or whatever you wanted to call him, really. That mask he always donned an unwelcome sight.
He always wore it around the lab, hiding his face away like it was some grand secret that only those must trusted could possibly bear witness to; yet you've seen it all the same. An accident, of course. A bad habit of yours was to forget your keys basically everywhere. Desk? Check. Lunch table? Check. The lab? An unfortunate check that meant coming face to face with a pair of red eyes glaring at you as you quickly ran out.
You never did get your keys then, having to beg the apartment management to let you in.
“You're staring.”
Dottore's head cock ever so slightly to the side as he asked “is that a problem?”
Oh how you wanted to pop his blueberry head for lingering over you for so long, much alike to when a teacher passes you by during an exam and they make a remark about the test right after staring at your paper. But, it's not like you could. Even if imagining it did help get through the work day as he flitted about. A fly you couldn't wave off buzzing in your ear.
“It is, so stop it.”
“Ordering a harbinger around won't do anything for you, welder. Remember your station as you speak to me.”
That card again. It was enough to have you placing the filler rod down to keep yourself from being tempted to jam it into his ear. Its pointed tip, from being melted down, truly was a tempting sight. And it was like he could read your thoughts, or maybe the twitch of your fingers, as he picked it up. Toying with it between his fingers.
“Your gloves are too big for you. I didn't know you felt the need to use a man’s equipment.”
Your eyes shot down to those yellow gloves, curled from both heat and lack of anything properly filling them out.
“It's all I have.”
“What of the pair you had when you first came here?”
“Caught on fire.”
Dottore's mouth opened only for him to pinch his lips closed.
“I suggest you try and tell me about a lack of equipment. I don't need your work coming out as anything less than I know you're capable of because of something easily fixed.”
Well, he did order you to ‘help’ with building the prototype to that false God project, so it does make sense he trusts what you can do. The project was a pain trying to understand his scribbled notes in the margins; the blueprint itself was readable. He deserves credit for that, at least.
And those yellow gloves, they weren't the ones you used when building the Shiki- No- That's not it. Shouki no Kami baby version.
“Fine, I need smaller gloves.”
There was no ‘now was that so hard’ like you were expecting, no snark (the younger versions of him would have), not even a curl of his lip in satisfaction of winning out this bickering tournament. Just a nod. Just a: “I'll be sure to tack them on to next week's orders.”
“Thank you.”
Plucking the filler rod from his pinched fingers you held it close to the piece you were currently working on, just about to get back to work as he started to make his way to the door. Most likely to head back to the lab proper where all the researchers keep themselves locked away with bottles of chemicals and things of the like.
“And one last thing.” The clicking of his boots stopped, no longer clicking against the tile as he stood before the door to leave. One hand pressed to the handle yet refusing to turn it. “Simply come to me if this incident occurs again. I don't need to find out days or weeks later.”
“Of course, sir.”
“In the meantime, I think it would be best for you to take something else. You can record the stock for me, or there's holes that need to be drilled in the base plate for that project Alpha was never able to finish.”
“Drilling holes with gloves too big for me? That's a good way to get them trapped in the rotary and my finger snapped like a pencil.”
You have heard occasions of it happening to others before, and oh boy, does that not sound fun. Hard pass on that one.
“I will not have you standing around doing nothing when there is work to be done. Time is a valuable asset, welder.”
The door was pushed open as he looked back at you, the faintest sound of the heating from the hallway buzzing in your ears. In here there wasn't really a need for that, not when you could prop the door open and get to work. The job warmed you up well enough.
“Just simply do without them.”
“Do without my gloves?”
That's a good way to get your hands all scratched up. Metal shavings flying in the air weren't exactly screaming ‘this is safe’ to anyone. If anything, that seemed like a great spin on a weapon, something akin to a gun just blasting out bits of sharp metal.
Best to keep that thought in your mind unless you want Dottore getting hyper fixated on something again only to forget about it in a week.
“It is within regulations.”
His boot was already crossing the threshold of the door, leaving you as you threw the gloves off to the side. Useless things they were.
‘Never thought I'd complain about going at it raw, but here we are.’
“And one last thing.”
Taking your hood off you let it fall down to the table before you with a clatter. Your hair is probably a mess, but it mattered little in a place like this when everyone else around you is covered in ash and dirt. Well, besides Dottore of course.
“Next time you come back to the lab late at night without first getting permission, I won't let you simply walk away. Remember that for the next time you leave your keys behind.”
The door closed behind him, leaving you as it suddenly fell quiet. Hum cut off mid cycle of its usual pattern.
In the end, you still wanted to pop his blueberry head, even when the proper sized gloves were there for you to use at the beginning of the next work day.
#hoyoverse#genshin impact#genshin x reader#x reader#genshin impact x reader#fem reader#il dottore#il dottore x reader#dottore x reader#dottore
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How likely the Fatui harbingers are to cuddle you
(as their fellow harbinger)
When you are sick 🛌
An: I am sick so we have to make the best of it :( also included wanderer before his glow up and la signora because I like my harbingers all together, but since I feel like I cannot say anything about Pulcinella, Columbina and Sandrone I left them out, I still hope you’ll like it!
Pierro:
1/10
I feel like he would look at you and tell you to go and rest, but that’s about it. Maybe you get a pat on your head or shoulder in sympathy.
Il Dottore:
3.5-4?/10
When you’re like, nearly dead? and come to him into his lab in the hopes he can give you medicine. He thinks the sight is pathetic :(
Would help you though and tell you to sit down while gets you some poisonous looking medicine (it probably unfairly works tho). But you’re still burning up so you crave a bit more of a hug. It annoys him (but if you persist in staying annoying to him) he might give you a segment of him that you can use as a plushie for your own comfort if not himself.
Arlecchino:
7/10
I mean hello? Father?
This woman would take her time for you. If you tell her you really need someone to cuddle you, she will agree, why not after all?
Only one condition, she might want to do some work in the meantime which could be anything from reading, to writing and commanding fatui agents, as well as her children around.
But if you commit to laying on the couch next to her not bothering her too much, mommy/father is gonna take care of you while laying by the fireplace. :>
Scaramouche:
5/10
Would also be annoyed.
„Why don’t you get lost in your room and rest there? You’re a drag when you’re sick.“ But you don’t want to go to your room you want affection.
So after long minutes of persuading, he might give in, depending on if he likes you or not.
If he gives in and lets you cuddle him, he’s going to make comments about being annoyed, (all while that man‘s got the joker, puppets surely won’t catch a cold) Yet you don’t care and let him talk because you know that behind all the complaints, he likes it a bit.
La signora:
5/10
This one is tricky, I feel like she would be a little like Scaramouche, also saying she doesn’t want to, but should she give in she might find it slightly pleasant and let’s it play a bit into her Ego, other than Scara who would feel it in affection mostly.
Pantalone:
7/10
If you ask him and he is not out for business, I wouldn’t see what keeps him from it. Especially if you’d be at home with him in that luxurious house. He’d at least stay with you until you’re asleep before heading back to his desk to deal with some contracts. Maybe he’ll send someone to fetch him a soup or anything he would know makes you feel better so when you wake up and want to cuddle again, he could also give you something he knows you like to make you feel better.
Tartaglia:
10/10
This man…, you want cuddles, you’re sick? He’s got your back. Just call him up and he’ll try to finish business as fast as possible to come over and help you get better again. Honestly a sweetheart :(
Il Capitano:
2/10
I believe he wouldn’t cuddle you because he is more into battling something somewhere (maybe Natlan). But on the other hand he wouldn’t be too opposed to making you feel a bit better and comforting you so he would ask you if you wanna come along to Natlan and watch him there!
I mean might not be what you asked for but at least it’s gonna be warmer than Snezhnaya. :)
#fatui harbingers#genshin impact fatui#fatui arlecchino#fatui x reader#fatui dottore#fatui pantalone#fatui scaramouche#fatui#genshin pierro#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#fluff#pierro x reader#pierro#pantalone#dottore#scaramouche#genshin scaramouche#childe#tartaglia#childe x reader#arlecchino#arlechinno genshin#il capitano#la signora#la signora x reader
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reiderwriter 5k writing challenge
hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!
Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡
The theme for the challenge is:
daydreams and shooting stars`☆
There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!
The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!
Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡
without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆
DAYDREAMS
ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.
GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡
FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶
OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.
IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful
SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.
MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.
SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.
SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-
PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰
ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.
SHOOTING STARS:
Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."
Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."
Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."
Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."
Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."
Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."
Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."
Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."
Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."
Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."
Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."
Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."
Rules:
I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!
Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.
For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!
Enjoy!!
#reidersdaydreams#reidersshootingstars#spencer reid#criminal minds#reiderreplies#spencer reid x reader#reiderslibrary#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds challenge#criminal minds writing challenge#fanfiction writing challenge#cm writing challenge#writing challenge#aaron hotchner#tara lewis#penelope garcia#david rossi#derek morgan#jason gideon#emily prentiss#luke alvez#elle greenaway#alex blake#jennifer jareau#kate callahan
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3.4 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of Bucky's past, minor fluff.
Word Count: 482
Previously On...: Bucky and Lily went out to brunch, and Bucky lied about his upcoming plans with you.
A/N: I'm going to let you all know well in advance that, once I finish posting through Chapter 5, I am going to take a small break from updating so I can write (I'm thinking maybe a week, tops). I've had some things going on recently that have been taking up a lot of my mental and emotional energy, which has prevented me from being as invested in the story as I want to be, so I need to take some time to get myself in the right headspace to where the story just flows out. I'm currently only two chapters ahead, and that makes me nervous, so I would like to build my buffer back up again. So, there will be a pause in updates starting on Tuesday, May 14th, and updates will resume on Tuesday, May 21st. I do hate doing this, and I know that, as a reader, it's so annoying when you have to wait between updates, but it needs to be done in order to provide you with the best story possible. I probably should have taken more time between finishing Unwanted and beginning to post With Friends Like These..., but I was too eager to share it with all of you to wait, lol. I want to be upfront and honest with all of you ahead of time, so I hope you understand.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
You’d spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon digging up everything you could about Bucky’s trial. At first, you were getting nowhere, not being able to find any information about ‘Bucky Barnes,’ but then you nearly slapped yourself on the head when you recalled Lily referring to him as ‘Jamie.’ Obviously, ‘Bucky’ was a nickname, and once you searched ‘James Barnes + trial,” you were nearly overwhelmed by the number or results you got.
Meticulously, you went through them, as if you were gathering intelligence for a military op. You read all about his history in World War II with Steve (which, admittedly, you sort of already knew about from Nat), but things took a turn when you discovered he’d been declared MIA: Presumed Dead, only to resurface around 2014.
You nearly started crying when you read what had been done to him– the loss of his arm, the experiments, the serum, all under the control of the terrorist group, Hydra. The brainwashing. And you really did start to cry when you read about what Hydra had made him do for them. The assassinations, the murders. Screw whatever Zadie and Rand thought. This poor man was a victim. One who didn’t deserve to spend a moment behind bars. Your heart positively broke for him.
You were wiping the tears from your eyes when Zadie popped her head in. “Hey, Major,” she said, a devilish smile on her face. “You got a delivery.”
You look back at her, puzzled. You weren’t expecting anything. Getting up from your chair, you made your way to the front reception area. There, on Zadie’s desk, was a beautiful gold bowl holding a live fuschia orchid plant.
“There’s a note!” Zadie squealed, bouncing on her toes and wringing her hands together in excited anticipation.
Biting your lip, you reached over and picked up the note. Unfolding it, you tried to make out the messy scrawl:
‘Major,
Thanks for bringing some beauty into my life last night. Figure it’s only fair I return the favor. Looking forward to seeing you tonight for dinner. - Bucky’
“Oh. My. God.” Zadie picked up a piece of paper from her desk and began fanning herself. “I don’t care how many people that guy murdered,” she said. “That’s the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” She paused. “How did he even know orchids are your favorite?”
“I don’t know,” you said, gently running your finger along the edges of the soft petals. “I guess I’ll have to ask him tonight.” You looked back at the note, rereading it, and smiling. You felt your stomach fill up with butterflies, as though you were a sixteen year old girl again, getting flowers from a boy for the very first time. God, but this man seemed absolutely perfect.
But you were never this lucky. You couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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What do u like about thistle?
I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.
He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master.
Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡
I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.
Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:
First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.
He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.
And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind.
And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...
He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)
It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.
He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.
He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.
I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.
Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.
I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.
I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.
But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.
So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever.
And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#thistle#marcille#mithrun#sorry about the essay lol but whatever. i wanted to ramble.
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