#why are you…as a man…putting gloves on
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Hold You Tight: Part 1
Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.
Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.
If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.
Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.
And you lived alone.
“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.
The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.
In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.
You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.
Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.
He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.
“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.
Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.
A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.
What was he going to do to you?
You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.
“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”
Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?
The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”
You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.
A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”
You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”
Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”
“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.
The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.
For Addison’s bachelorette party.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”
He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”
You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.
“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”
You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.
Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”
“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.
“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”
You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.
“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.
“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.
“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”
The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”
“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”
“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”
You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.
Right?
Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”
Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”
“Shots!”
Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.
“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.
So what was the matter?
“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”
“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”
He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?
“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”
A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”
Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”
“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”
How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”
“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?
The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …
“And if I say no?”
Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”
Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”
A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”
“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.
Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.
But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.
He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”
He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.
“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”
Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”
You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”
His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.
“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”
It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?
You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”
Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.
You weren't safe.
With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.
And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.
Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#club owner!bucky barnes#bucky barnes#soft!dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky fic#sebastian stan#james buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#x reader#turn it up au
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Hiii can I request one of the boys (or all) comforting medic/surgeon reader, who’s in their unit, for not being able to save someone and reader goes into a depressive episode because reader has known them since they got recruited. They’re doing their best to cheer reader up, but it’s hard to budge through the stress of not being able to save a life. Thank you 🥹
this is not poly!141 so each blurb is that character x f!reader. some are established relationship, some are just unlabeled.
ao3 link
simon:
simon riley was a quiet man. that's why he liked you, always talking just because you were eager to share, never expecting him to reciprocate. he knew he was blunt, gruff, and (a bit) unlikeable, so it always seemed safer to respond in as little words as possible. on days like today though, he just had to say something. you hadn't said a word to anyone in a week (he checked) and stopped coming to every "optional" friendly hangout after a rough mission. you were holed up in your room ever since your patient had died, and he meant to do something about it.
"what." you said gruffly to the person knocking at the door. "'s me, dove." simon. "go away." instead of listening, you heard the door open. you turned around in your bed to face the wall, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "i'm not good company right now, si." you could practically hear him shrug. he closed the door with a sigh, the silence between you two enveloping the room in a cocoon. instead of hearing your desk chair sqeak, you heard a rustle of clothing, tac gear dropping to the floor. almost as if he was taking off his clothes? but there was no way, this was ghost, who wore a stupid mask and stupid gloves that always made you wonder about the veins underneath and-
and suddenly simon riley was climbing under the covers with you, clothed in only his boxers. you knew because he was everywhere, skin on skin, wedging one large, scarred thigh between yours. his left hand under your pillow, right hand sneaking its way to your waist. he drew shapes on your skin with his calloused hands, the only sound in the room the scrape of his skin on yours. "we'll get through this, yeah?" you nodded against him, not trusting yourself to speak, tears caught in your throat. simon nuzzled himself into your neck, and for the first time that week, you slept through the night.
johnny:
usually, you loved the sound of johnny's laughs, boisterous and fun, bringing energy into every conversation. this week, though, you couldn't stomach it. you stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped shoving him when he tried to put his arm around you, stopped engaging in his talk on comms when you had the mantle of field medic. you cringed when you saw the spark in his eyes dampen, but you couldn't seem to care when a similar image of your comrade dying on the field took a starring role in your nightmares.
this was your second nightmare tonight, the image of your comrade's bloody body, sinking into an open grave. you could almost feel the packed dirt in your throat, succumbing to the grave you put her in. and suddenly you were awake, blinking at the darkness of the room. you were so tired, emotionally drained, you didn't even think about where you were walking, just knew you were leaving your room. and suddenly, you were knocking on johnny's door, knowing he'd be up at this time. he swung open the door, misinterpreting what you were after. "bonnie. knew ye'd give me a late night call soon." you rolled your eyes at his joke, feeling an unwilling smile creep onto your face.
"not that kind of night, johnny." he winked anyways, ushering you into his room. "glad ta see you smile, lass." that dimmed your mood. you suddenly scrambling changing your mind. "well i just wanted to say hi but you're busy so i'll leave you to it-" johnny covered your mouth with his hand, effectively cutting off your thoughts. "up ye go." you squealed as he picked you up, depositing you onto his bed. he locked the door and turned off the light, keeping a nightlight on just for you. "yer gonna tell me about all those thoughts in that pretty head of yours, hm?" you nodded, and felt the weight lighten off your chest for the first time in weeks.
john:
john was your rock. a fellow higher-up, hardened by war and bittered by reality, wrapped up in a fatherly manner. he was all knowledge and hard truths with his men, but with you? on a day like today? after standing in blood for three hours, using half of the base hospital's resources to try to stop what should have been a typical infection that was actually poison? that fatherly attitude could shove it.
"need to search your office for poison, doctor." john was a shadow at your office door. "yeah, sure, whatever." you needed to put in requests for all the supplies used, finalize the death certificate, launch the investigation. the last thing you cared about was john following protocol. you didn't register the captain's movements until he was behind your chair, leaning down in your ear. "come on." he took your hand's off your laptop's keys, placing them in your lap. "the boys will be here any minute, love. come on." you let him guide you, going numb at the feeling. the reality that your patient had been poisoned, targeted, and you couldn't do anything about it was suddenly hitting you. john was making you stand up, but you were in a trance, just a body he could move however he wanted.
you blinked and you were standing in his office, looking at his chair. "go on. i'll make an exception just for you." you shook your head, unable to explain why not. "you need to sit, love." you shook your head again. the medical part of your brain told you the shock was hitting. john sat in his chair instead, guiding you between his legs. you looked down at him, at his hands on your waist. making a split second decision, you ungracefully collapsed sideways into his lap. john grunted but said nothing, adjusting your feet to hang off the chair. your arms circled his thick neck, hands rubbing at his beard. he took off his hat, laying it on the table, then kissed your forehead. you tucked your head into his neck, and finally, finally, let yourself cry.
kyle:
gaz was loveable and cocky, which you were okay with. you called him kyle to humble him, a playful nudge. he called you sweetheart right back, that accent of his playing with all the right vowels just to rile you up. but today, two days after the death of your comrade that you should have saved, you didn't feel sweet at all. not one bit.
"its after 11. should be in bed by now." he was at the door of your office, taking in the heaping piles of medical reports on your desk.
"kyle, im busy." you huffed, not bothering to look up. your comrade's autopsy report was staring right back at you, clinical notes on how she could have been saved if you had just had the supplies.
"sweetheart-" you almost slammed your pen on your desk. "don't call me that, kyle. i'm not in the mood." he wasn't deterred, warm eyes swimming with understanding. "this about what happened?" he mumured in a soft voice, like he was comforting a kitten instead of you, a dark hole of guilt. "i just-" you made the mistake of making eye contact, of seeing how kind he looked. the tears started rushing out and you couldn't stop them. you hadn't cried when she died, so maybe it was finally time. "i just keep looking at these notes about what i could have done, if things were different and gaz, idontknowwhattodo..."
you trailed off, embarrassed. calling him gaz was a sign of weakness, of this whole facade crumbling down. "come 'ere.” you stood up and walked between his open arms, a small laugh erupting as he overexaggerated how heavy you were. "you did more than anyone on that field could have done. and you're still sweet to me. even when you're a bit of a snotty mess." he kissed your forehead then, and you weren't even going to touch what that meant. all that mattered were gaz's strong arms, holding your waist and rubbing small circles as you put all your physical and emotional baggage on him. and for now, being held was all you needed.
--
had to let this one simmer for a bit. thanks anon <3
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#tornadothoughts#ghost call of duty#cod 141#fluff#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john price#john price x reader#john price x you#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#soap mactavish x f!reader#john price x f!reader#kyle garrick x fem!reader
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I previously wrote about the purple and yellow in Wandee Goodday and how these two complementary colors symbolized parts of Dee and Yak's personalities that complement each other.
To nerd out about color theory a bit more, though...
As I mentioned in the previous post, complementary colors (also called contrasting colors) complement each other well and create high impact and contrast when put close to each other.
(Just look at that purple on Dee's gloves against the yellow surrounding him. Both colors pop, perhaps the purple more so since everything else, except Dee, is yellow.)
However, when contrasting colors are mixed together, they cancel each other out and turn gray.
In other words, when this scene came up...
Considering what happened in the scene and considering both of them were wearing gray (which, to be fair, they had been doing at the gym ever since Dee signed up for classes, but anyway)...
This ice queen lost her shit.
Let me tell you why...
This whole 4th episode was basically about Dee and Yak's deepening feelings for each other (or trying to understand/being confused about those deepening feelings).
In a previous scene when Yak practiced what he would say to Taem to confess his feelings for her, he wore (as @respectthepetty calls it) Dee's fake blue (because blue + red = purple, and purple = Dee) while Dee was wearing Yak's yellow. They are, kind of, already exchanging colors.
However, Dee noticed his own feelings (and his jealousy) in that scene and continued to feel the jealousy when Taem showed up at the gym. I mean, the man couldn't focus on what he was doing...
Interestingly, the confusion in Dee (and Yak) intensifies in this scene...
They're in the gray shirts (surrounded by what can pass off as different values of gray on the walls, pillows, comforter, etc.), after they have already (kind of) exchanged their colors, but they're confused about the colors, and are trying to kid themselves that there are no feelings involved between them, even though it's palpable...
These dumbasses (very affectionately).
When purple and yellow are mixed together, it becomes gray, and that was the perfect color for them in this scene when they were confused about their feelings (and about their colors).
My faith in the creators of Wandee Goodday is so strong that I'm willing to bet that it was intentional.
#iq color post#color theory#wandee goodday#wandee goodday the series#thai ql#thai bl#thai series#my shit
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I, for one, would definitely be interested in learning about your flondon main, if you're willing to share
Oh, I suppose I can go ahead and share a tad... presuming my poor, skittish heart survives the ordeal. ^_^;;
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"D. T. Oversol, Silverer. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
(Portrait by my good friend Cheru, whomst is unfortunately quite lacking in socials!)
Primary Skills: Persuasive / Dangerous; Glasswork / Artisan of the Red Sciences
Feel free to send a calling card!
Lengthier character introduction beneath the cut.
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Mr. Oversol (or Oversol, as he is commonly referred – he seems rather particular about sharing more than the initials of the rest of his name) is an immensely private individual. Whilst he is semi-commonly present at a variety of high-society events, and, of course, the occasional apocalyptic threat to London, he always seems to subtly direct conversation towards topics related to others rather than himself. This aire of mystique, as some have put it, is only furthered by the bombazine-dark veil he has not been seen without in many a year. ...In fact, one might note, he wears black gloves, too, and a high-collared shirt, and even dark spectacles beneath hat heavy veil... God forbid one foregoes manners enough to ask about all the pomp directly, of course. High society leaves little room for such straightforwardness.
A silverer by trade, his services are peculiarly difficult to obtain. First comes the mere challenge of locating the blasted man, should you not find yourself fortunate enough (or, em, unfortunate enough?) to be inundated with party invites. Oversol's offices lie somewhere in the twisted back-streets set about the foot of the Bazaar, and the longer one searches the clearer it becomes he may not want it to be found. Does he even have clientele? And why, for goodness sake, is a silverer rumoured to turn away all of the Bohemian-and-creative sort?
Truth be told, Oversol is a bit of a hermit – mostly due to a displeasure with rowdy environments, a few too many suitors, and a healthy appreciation for his own privacy. This most certainly has nothing to do with a rising paranoia that has grown steadily over his years in the Neath, and irrational fears over what exactly some unsavory party might do with information on his good self. He makes true companions exceptionally slowly due to this, and finds himself primarily in the company of one Dola Hallowrove, monster hunter (@peliginspeaks), and a Captain-Correspondent Ren Haarsink. —Er, perhaps not the latter. Not at current. Not after recent events.
Regardless of the man's paranoid tendencies, and resulting stiff public face, he is exceptionally warm and loyal to those he considers his trusted and beloved few. They, of course, are welcome at his office any time of any day (set just beneath his lodgings, in fact; both are decorated in expensive fashion, yet stay within the line of good taste), aside from the middle of his appointments, and may even be allowed knowledge of his dear young daughte– ahem, feline companion, Boo. Sure, his gifts tend to be inordinately and unnecessarily expensive, and he will most certainly refuse a romp through Prickfinger or any other destination lacking a proper road, but you can always count on him to lend a good ear and as many perfectly-steeped cups of tea as you'd like.
(Oh, ah— One last little thing. You would be well-advised not to allow him inebriation; he's a nasty rash streak with a little alcohol in his system. Last time he took drinks at a bar, he ended up across the zee on Gaider's Mourn daring pirates to most unreasonably dangerous competitions. Ghastly, that hangover was. Ghastly, and awfully zalty.)
('Portrait' by me, on MSpaint with mouse, because my tablet is broken.)
#mail box#Oversol tag#in all sincerity though - thank you for asking! ive been meaning/wanting to introduce the man for a while now and simply too nervous haha#There is so soooooo much I could share about him. But this is just an introduction! Can't spoil all the fun#Not yet! ...That being said#I'll happily answer any and all future asks... perhaps with a little more haste than this one#motivation holding at least#I'd link his toyhouse but it's still in a terrible WIP state and it'd reveal a feeeew too many secrets <3 Not quite yet!
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srry I keep doing super long requests so I'll try to make this one shorter.
Illumi, Chrollo, Feitan, and Leorio's reaction gn!s/o or crush who fights by shredding mfs with tooth and claw like some kind of feral animal
they see a cowardly enemy try to run, turn to him and go "hey babe, do me a solid and throw me." so they can drill down onto the mf and maul the shit out of 'em coming back just absolutely soaked in blood.
for bonus comedy maybe they say somethin like "that felt sexy. we should do that more often." or "lmao we should name that move..."
HXH With an S/o W/ Sharp Teeth/Claws
Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor
Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader
up to you if nen makes ur teeth/nails grow or if ur just freaky all the time
Warnings: violence
Leorio Paladaknight
this man is HORRIFIED
YOU'RE SO SCARY
forget him throwing you in battle bro he is RUNNING FOR COVER
the first time he ever saw you maul something like an animal was those damn pigs at the hunter exam
fuck a weak spot you just bit a chunk out of it and it died 😭
"YOU'RE COVERED IN PIG BLOOD!" "Oopsiesss :3"
he is so scared
do not put your mouth anywhere near him he will run away screaming
he shivers every time your hand brushes up against him
poor guy
Illumi Zoldyck
you're like a personal guard dog, forget mike
he lets you take care of whatever business he doesn't have time for
and if he's going on a mission where he has multiple targets he'd bring you just for funsies
its almost like he's walking around with a chain chop at all times
if you asked him to throw you he'd be like ??? ok then CHUCK YOU LIKE A JAVELIN
he thinks it's kinda gross how messy you get especially since it like...gets in your mouth
he's already iffy about physical affection but this man will not touch you until you have been thoroughly sanitized afterwards
he won't even let you step foot inside the house
he WILL hose you down like a dog he don't play
"y'know you should throw me more often!" "only if you're clean before I touch you."
Chrollo Lucilfer
you know when dads grab their kids by the back of their shirts and swing them?
yeah that's how he's going to throw you
at some point it just becomes routine for him to quite literally throw you into battle since you enjoy it so much
why? he has no clue but he will indulge you
and every time its like fnaf jumpscare for your opponent
Chrollo is another one who doesn't like the mess and he rather you stay a safe distance until you clean yourself
the amount of hydrogen peroxide he has to get is insane
bro refuses to let there be bloodstains on ANYTHING and he will do all your laundry too
with gloves on of course
one day you came up to him and were like "maybe we should call that the flying squirrel"
Feitan Portor
he likes your style
you're straight to the point no bs and get shit done
sometimes this little sadist sits back and lets you do all the dirty work because he likes watching you
you guys were occupied with some lowly enemies and you noticed one trying to run off
and when you tell Feitan to throw you he does it with no hesitation (even though I imagine its kind of awko cus yk...hes a small man)
and when you rip this guy apart like some sort of rabid honey badger he's like
heh nice
and when you come back covered in blood and looking like a golden retriever wagging it's tail he is a #proud bf
"we should totally name that move :3"
he doesn't say much but he'll grab your hand and lead you away from the scene
you can't tell but he has a lil proud smile behind his cloak mask thingy
#hxh 2011#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter#hxh#hxh illumi#illumi zoldyck#chrollo hunter x hunter#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#hxh chrollo#feitan x reader#feitan#phantom troupe#feitan hxh#hunter x hunter feitan#hxh feitan#hxh leorio#leorio#leorio paladiknight#leorio hxh#leorio x you#leorio x reader#chrollo headcanons#chrollo x you#chrollo x y/n#illumi headcanons#illumi x reader#illumi hxh#illumi x you#illumi hunter x hunter
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Shop Photos: We are SMAP! Takuya in Space Edition
Not to be confused with Takuya in Space Battleship Yamato Edition, which is just Takuya looking extremely gender in a film that coincidentally released in the same year as these pictures
#of course i saved the best for last who do you think i am?#kimura takuya#木村拓哉#takuya kimura#scans#shop photos#we are smap 2010#why are you…as a man…putting gloves on#also i tried really hard to wipe off the white flecks but i think its damage and not dirt so *womp womp*#oh well he’s still pretty i forgive him#pretend they’re stars and takuya is in space to fit the earth motif#…i put it in the caption so you have to…thats the rules#actually maybe the flecks are intentional now that i think about it#im still talkin arent i#queue've got a pulse and queue are breathing
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it's probably not healthy how often i imagine portland row years into the future, after the trio's talents have faded, where they no longer hunt ghosts together but they find other ways to pay the bills and never move out because they just love the little home they've made here, and lucy and lockwood are an actual couple and george simply tolerates it because he loves them individually so much and can't imagine life away from either of them, which is good because lucy and lockwood wouldn't have it any other way
i don't know if this is compatible with book canon in the long run, but thinking about it just. soothes my soul. it is everything i want for them
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lucy carlyle#anthony lockwood#george karim#george cubbins#locklyle#sometimes it's better to Not move on from what got you through your youth#also. ppl will meet locklyle out somewhere and then visit their house for the first time and be like 'who is this man'#and george will wave awkwardly wearing a giant rubber glove from where he is unclogging the sink drain#guests are like 'is he your hired help?' and they're like 'no that's our best friend'#'oh. how long is he staying with you?' 'no no he lives here'#locklyle kissing at the breakfast table and george being all 'must you do that in front of my eggs. i haven't even had a coffee yet'#'christ. i don't know why i put up with you two' [but everyone smiles bc they all know]#ANYWAY#i'm clearly very normal about this concept#*success
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hmm i have like, 500-600 taiwan dollars leftover in a tin from the last time i visited relatives... i wonder what would happen if i just handed it to my little cousins like. "yep. here is gift. have fun."
#i heard them trying to sound out 'eidelweiss' on the piano so i've also been thinking of giving them this little music box i bought#a while back that plays eidelweiss. put it in little box with money and letter that is like. 'hello. cousin cares about you.'#'but cousin is awkward and has bad hearing and speaking skills. anyway here's some money and a music box for you.'#i checked n it's like the equivalent of almost 20 usd so like. that's an appropriate gift for nine-year-olds i think#today at work i was cutting glow sticks in half for our craft and i was not wearing any gloves so i got minor chemical burns <3#like part of the skin on my thumb n pointer finger got bleached so i went around n showed alllll the kids#like. 'hey. check out my chemical burn. this is why we wouldn't let you guys cut open the glow sticks yourselves.'#'because it will do This to you if you touch them too long. this is why we had you wash your hands when you finished.'#n some of them were like 'just wash it off' n i was like. 'it is a chemical burn. it is on my skin.'#at least i Think it was a chemical burn but i mean it was very minor (makes sense bc it's just glow sticks) so the skin's flaked off by now#similar happens when i touch my hair bleach w/o gloves so i'm Pretty Sure it was chemical burns#we had a table of kids who were speaking cn to each other so at some point i pieced together they didn't seem to pay attn. bc low en skills#anyway i broke my own rule abt no phones at work to look up 'chemical burns' in cn for them bc although they know i speak Some cn#(by giving them minor instructions for the glow stick craft) i was like. 'chemical burns... how to say....'#apparently they are mostly from taiwan which is fun i love it when i Don't receive microaggressions for writing in traditional c':#today's my only camp shift for the week tho... one of my coworkers died last week so i told my boss i could pick up his camp shifts#if no one else had but apparently i'd go over hours this week... feelsbad man. it's summer + we're always understaffed#so there's gonna be a point when the front desk worker is gonna be covering the camps for a little bit which is. i feel bad ahaha#the worm speaks
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The grossest thing Steve-O has admitted to doing is his confident, continued disbelief in washing his hands because it would "weaken his immune system."
My GUY you Skyjacked it on camera but this is what made me lose it.
#seriously what the fuck#Steve-o you've swum in sewage#Does baithing count as washing his hands or does he put on special gloved like in Zoolander#Dude might have a portable bidet but that's super fucking gross#Like why are you proud???#Your hands are covered in shit constantly???#Does the man shower??????
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tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)
cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.
cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.
even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."
and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.
which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.
the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.
you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.
he answered on the second ring.
"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.
"be there in 5," then hung up.
he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.
true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.
inside the ladies bathroom.
he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.
he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.
so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.
furious.
some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.
you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?
simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.
everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.
in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.
until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.
you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."
his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"
you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.
"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."
nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.
simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.
he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.
simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.
hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—
"yes."
he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.
"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.
simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.
and so the elephant marches to war.
-
it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.
his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.
"he is no longer a problem."
he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.
"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."
simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.
"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."
your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."
one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.
"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.
there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.
he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.
"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."
the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.
"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"
the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.
later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.
for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.
-
simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.
nothing.
shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.
your wish is his command.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#cbf!simon#cod smut#cod
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Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀
she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz
notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.
“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.
“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”
shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”
“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.
utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.
“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.
intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”
“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.
“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.
utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.
“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.
“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.
utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”
from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.
with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.
bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.
“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.
“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”
“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.
a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.
“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.
“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.
during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.
“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.
“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”
you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.
“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.
you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.
“that’s what love does to a man.”
“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”
satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.
“how much?”
“excuse me?”
“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.
you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.
shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”
suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”
“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.
she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”
you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.
trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”
“i’m buying you that dress.”
“o-okay.”
half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.
perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.
it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.
as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.
breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"
his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.
“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”
gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.
"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.
the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.
“what?”
“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”
“oh.”
silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.
satoru can only watch, entranced.
“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.
satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.
but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.
his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.
you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.
"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.
“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.
you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”
“great, it’s a date!”
good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.
maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#this is me coping bc of the leaks
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bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻
so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.
instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..
a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍
alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.
upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.
"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.
"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."
alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.
"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.
his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.
"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.
"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.
alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.
you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.
---
"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.
"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor imagines#alastor x you smut#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel lucifer#alastor hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader imagines#hazbin hotel alastor smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor x reader
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biker!suguru who looks pretty intimidating with that big helmet that covers his face, but will take advantage of red lights to make the children in the cars around him laugh. moving his hands, changing his seat, lying on the motorcycle; anything works when he sees them smiling and waving at him when the traffic starts again.
biker!suguru who's full of tattoos under all the riding clothes. they're tiny, like fine stickers on his body, but you could spend whole afternoons finding each one of them, and he'll gladly tell you what do they mean.
biker!suguru who refuses to let you get off the bike by yourself. if he opens the car door for you and offers a hand so you can comfortably get off, why wouldn't he do the same on the bike?
biker!suguru who accompanies you to buy clothes and equipment for riding. he has been on it for years and he knows the best brands, the best options and the more secure ones. he'll make sure to pay for them, even if they're expensive, as long as you're comfortable and protected from any injury.
biker!suguru who takes you everywhere. you have a meeting? he takes the bike. you're craving your favorite ice cream at night? you'll go quicker in the bike. why would you go walking if he loves to take you anywhere?
biker!suguru who's not bothered by the rain at all. he would ride anyway, with drops falling on his visor and sticking to his exposed neck. he would even unzip his riding jacket and let the rain wet his t-shirt. it makes him feel alive. (and later, sick.)
biker!suguru who doesn't like you sitting by yourself so makes it impossible for you, moving the bike and going back and forth, laughing and receiving your little slaps on his shoulders until you let him sit you (or he lets you sit)
biker!suguru who holds your hand when driving straight, taking it between his gloved fingers, cutely caressing and taking it to his helmet as if he was kissing it.
biker!suguru who helps you to put and take off the helmet the first times you ride, being his smile the last thing you see when closing your eyes to put it on and being his lips pressed on yours the first thing you feel when taking it off.
biker!suguru who doesn't doubt to show you how to ride when you ask him. he takes you on a couple lessons outside, quietly and calmly ordering you what to do. he trusts you enough to backpack you (but you don't trust your freshly aquired habilities with such a man behind)
biker!suguru who never arrives from a ride late. he'll always find you awake, and he doesn't want to let you go to sleep alone. he'll always make it safely on time.
biker!suguru who loves to mess with you, while riding and once done. he'll take your visor up, he'll put your hands inside his t-shirt, he'll give little taps on top of your helmet.
biker!suguru who craves shoulder massages on sunday afternoons after all the week riding and working. you'll gladly give him some, and he'll make sure to payback with cuddles (or rides.)
biker!suguru who lets all the kids try his helmet while he waits for you to exit work/uni. you'll just find the most random situations while getting closer to your boyfriend, such as a kid having trouble with the helmet's weight or another one unable to see due to puting it wrong.
biker!suguru who looks so good unzipping his riding suit and taking off the helmet you can only think of seein that exact image every evening of your life
part one here ✨
#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru x reader#suguru x you#geto suguru fluff#suguru fluff#geto fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#biker!suguru#biker!geto
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— LIVE NOW, THINK LATER (NANAMI K.)
warning: (18+) infidelity, car sex, creampie, small feelings (lolll).
“You look beautiful.” A familiar voice startled you. He couldn’t believe his eyes really, your beautiful skin glowing and your eyes twinkling.
“Oh, Kento! I didn’t think you’d make it,” You moved into his arms and he held you tightly, his fingers dancing across your waist.
You pulled away and smiled at him. He chuckled, “Wouldn’t have missed it.” But he wish he did. He hated how this tortured him and wound him up. He hated watching you be in love with someone else.
“I got you something.” He whispered, his fingers playing in your hair. He tried to remember to keep his distance. He could already hear the whispers around him, women judging and asking if you had “any sense at all” or decorum, to be with any other man than your husband right now.
Your husband who was too busy drinking and laughing with his friends to notice. But the women didn’t say anything about that.
“Oh really?” You asked, quirking a brow. “Lemme see it!” You jumped and clapped your hands so excited.
“I’ll have to take you away…” He licked his lips and did a devilish smile. He held up his index finger and walked towards your husband. “Mind if I take her away from you? No more than twenty minutes…” He asked, his tone annoyed as he looked at the man who just married you.
He waved Nanami off and continued back to his conversations. Nanami wanted to hurt him. He wouldn’t have let you go anywhere without him tonight. He wouldn’t have left you alone tonight.
He grabbed your hand and he whisked you away from it all. He took you to his car and looked around, making sure it was nobody near you both. He helped you inside, picking up the bottom of your long white wedding dress and carefully putting it inside.
“Why couldn’t you just wait for me? Huh?” He hated this. “I promised you and—“
“You promised me for years, Kento. Work was always a priority for you. I was tired of being second place.” Your words stung and he knew that it was true but he always figured that you’d stay. When you left he assumed you just needed some space, when you got a boyfriend he reassured himself that you’d come back…but when he saw the wedding invitations and even received one in the mail… he knew that he lost you.
He stared into your pretty eyes and caressed your cheek, “Why did you invite me then? Pity? I can already see how your life is going to be. Married for a year, pregnant with an inattentive husband who’ll fuck his co-worker more than he fucks you. He doesn’t even look at you and those vows of his? The embarrassment on your face told it all. You don’t love him…not how you loved me.”
You swallowed, “Kento… let’s not do this, here.” Your hands were shaky and your palms sweating. “You said you have a gift for me?”
He paused, thinking momentarily. Popping open the glove department and reaching inside, he presented a rectangular blue box with a scarlet red ribbon on top. “For you, I hope you like it.”
He heard you gasp, “A Tiffany tennis bracelet?” Your eyes were wide. “Do you know how expensive these are? Well — of course you do, you bought this one.” You did an awkward chuckle.
He already knew you would ask, when he saw your mouth open. “It was seventy-thousand dollars. I saw it, thought you’d like it and that was that. It’s the least I could do for you, baby.”
“Seventy— Are you insane? It’s beautiful but for that amount? I… you could’ve bought a house or… gosh… I barely even spent fifty thousand on this wedding.”
“Oh, so you really settled.” He muttered and to his surprise you laughed.
“I did.” You agreed with a strained smile and a sad look in your eyes. “Thank you for this… it’s so beautiful and I do love it, I always loved their stuff and I always hated that I left all my jewelry behind, all those years ago.” You released a heavy sigh.
“I still have ‘em. Could drop them off one day, maybe. Or… you could come and get them.” He said and you looked at him with narrowed eyes. He held his hands up in surrender, “No funny business.”
“Yeah right. I already know you brought me out here to try to fuck me.” He coughed in surprise at your words. “A present, really? That you had to take me all the way out here and not give me in front of everyone?”
“I didn’t want to embarrass your husband. That’s all. Nothing more. Honest.” He moved his hands to cover his hardening cock. “But… how’s the sex?”
“You’re that curious? I already told you I settled and you already know there’s nobody better than you.” You looked at him with heavy-lidded hazy eyes, your voice soft as silk.
He swallowed. “Divorce him and I’ll give you the wedding you deserve. I’d spend double the amount of that bracelet on you. You deserve the best, baby. I work and work because I didn’t ever want you to be comfortable living a simple life when I could give you more. I love you and there’s no one like you.” He took your hand and pressed it to his chest. “This has always been yours, it has your name on it and it forever will.”
You kissed him, it was too hot in his car to think about anything. You didn’t care that you were still in your wedding dress or that someone could see you. You just wanted him. He reached forward and put a tightening hand on your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.
His tongue sucked on yours and swirled inside. Your nails digging into his hair as you pulled him closer towards you. “I want it.” You whispered against his lips, kissing the side of his neck and licking a long stripe up. “Let’s go.” You motioned towards the back and he smiled.
Crawling to the backseat and he palmed your ass. “Naughty, naughty.” You giggled, drunk off something. Drunk off Nanami Kento. He joined you in the back, you pulled at his tie and he happily sighed.
Unbuttoning his pants before he began bunching up your dress, he slid down the thin panties you were and looked between your legs. “This for me?” He looked at you, his dark brown eyes full of pure lust. You were soaked, wetness covering your thighs and your lips stuck together with glossy strings of your essence. You nodded, unable to speak and he kissed you again. It felt like before, when you both started dating and how soft he always was with you.
He inhaled, your smell all over the place and he loved every second of it.
“Does he know that you like to be touched, right here? Or right there?” His fingers were simply dancing across your lower body, working you up just from small touches, but he wouldn’t slip them inside, much to your frustration. Your hips thrusts up a bit, begging for more before all of the warmth of his fingers pulled away.
He slid his pants and boxers down, staring at your soaked folds. His cock had a thick bunch of hair that was lightly trimmed and it looked prettier than you ever seen it, with creamy white precum gushing out of the tip.
He slid a hand down after gathering the small amounts of leaking precum, the lewd sounds of him jerking himself off filled the car and made you whine. “Please, hurry up.” Spreading yourself more so that he can see the cream between your folds drip to his seat. He muttered something quietly and pulled your dress up more, rubbing his cock up and down your slit, both of you hissing and gasping.
Your nails were digging into his forearm when he finally slipped inside of you, he groaned close to your mouth. You huffed, wrapping your legs around his, wanting him to fully be inside of you. When both of your pelvis’s were touching, hips flushed together. He felt you squeeze around him and more of your wetness squirted out of your pussy when he snapped his hips in a solid thrust.
“Does he know your body like me?” Even though you told him earlier, he wanted to know while he was pounding into you, holding up the sides of your wedding dress. His hips were moving dangerously fast now, making your titties bounce. Foreheads touching and his cock filling you up, your eyes rolled back.
“No, he—ah— he doesn’t. Never even made me cum.”
“Oh, so I have to make up for that, don’t I, baby?” He drags his cock in and out of you, the loud sounds of slapping skin made him even harder as he looked at your fucked out expression. Your legs were already shaking, so he added pressure by rubbing your clit in small circles. Tightening around him yet again and he smiled, “That’s my girl.” You rolled your hips, trying to push yourself even closer to your orgasm.
“Look at me. Remember who’s fucking you and who’s making you feel this good, right now. Got that?” He whispered in your ear, biting it playfully.
You felt so good around him, closer to heaven and he knew for this moment with him fucking you right now, he was dragging you closer to hell. Be he couldn’t care less, your tiny cunt creaming around him, your back arching and your toes squeezing.
Your pussy constricts around him and a stream of your cum drips down between the both of you. But Nanami doesn’t stop; he rolls his hips again and fucks more of that creamy wetness out of you. He presses your stomach and you squirm. “I’m gonna come inside of you, ‘kay?” You can’t talk anymore so you just moan and sigh, nodding your head.
Both of your hips bucking, grinding into each other’s pelvis’s, he cums. It’s heavy and you spasm around him, sucking him deeper inside and he shutters. “You feel so fucking good. Could do this all night baby.” He slipped out for a moment, looking at his cum soaked half hard cock, before he pushed back in. You gasped, pushing him back a bit to no avail.
“You love me don’t you, baby?”
“Always, Kento.”
no part two.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x reader smut#jjk nanami x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader
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that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good
Every inch
1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.
SEQUEL: EVERY INCH 2 🔪 THREEQUEL: 3
Slasher master list
Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist). You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.
Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up. It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car. He smells faintly of weed and sweat. You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand. You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure.
He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried. It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare?
You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you. Your heart pounds in your chest. You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body closer and your heart nearly stops as your inner thigh softly nudges his hand. But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it. Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches. He’s only somewhat hard, but obviously packing. He still doesn’t move. His chest is rising and falling with his breaths. You know he’s alive. Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more. You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.
What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately. It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear. You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you. Stabbing is penetrative after all. Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him? After all, he’s only a man. Why not, you think. This could be your best chance to find out. This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation. You’re turned on thinking about it. If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose. Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.
Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush. The tables have turned. You’re on top of him now. You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer. You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is. Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you. Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself.
-
His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up. But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.
Then you have a thought. You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react. You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing. You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap. Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.
His mask moves. He seems to look at you. Then a soft, low sigh. You lower your crotch again and he’s harder. You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder. A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.
You’re going to have to have him. This is your chance and you can’t resist it. Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again. You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient. You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband. His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock. You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs. Your core aches to be filled.
You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch. He moans but doesn’t move. Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt. His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full. It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time. You wonder if you could just fuck from now on. If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.
You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness. You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly. You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.
-
His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms, unable to free them from the headrest. He’s groggy and weak. You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming. You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.
His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race. “Knew it.” Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard. Always wanted this cock. Knew it. He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.
“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger. Nasty Girl.
He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips. Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him. You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.
You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls. You decide to jerk him off as a power move. You kneel into the open door frame of the car. You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist. “All ya had to do was ask,” he says. All you had to do was ask. You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street. Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.
“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade. He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.
You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly. His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.
You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants. Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe. You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.
-
Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤
#ghostface x reader#ghostface smut#ghostface x you#slasher smut#slasher fanfiction#cw noncon#tw noncon#cw somnophilia#night walks#ghostface#slasher fucker#billy loomis x reader#ethan landry x reader#toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri#dark fic#ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️
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scribbles
"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.
ft. malleus, vil
malleus
it was... a breach of your patience.
the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.
so you decide to sate said boredom.
how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!
your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.
"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.
without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.
... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.
said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.
but it's from you so he likes it.
he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.
it's adorable. you're adorable.
his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.
you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.
that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.
vil
drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.
vil is great at makeup.
every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.
but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.
this... he doesn't know what to consider.
perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.
he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.
the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.
"why?"
"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."
he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...
"gorgeous." you finish for him.
his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)
your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.
vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.
well, what the heck.
"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."
note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe
#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst fluff#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#x gn reader
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