Tumgik
#(difficult to do so because of just who he is. but tbh any kind of love romantic or plantonic be good for him he's had a lack of it
universestreasures · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Let Me Assign You An Affection Language
An Undoing Influence
Tumblr media
Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.
Tagged By: @devildukem (TY Levi!)
Tagging: The Dash!
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
tojisun · 13 days
Text
dunno where this came from bc i honestly just wanted a short ramble and not smthn long but here we are :'D this is an extension from my rambling yesterday about simon x reader but it's a dowry of blood au (brides of dracula retelling). i havent finished the book yet tbh but if ur planning on reading it, i do just wanna give a warning that it's dark and prose-heavy
cw: death/massacre; blood drinking; vampire-turning and stuff; inaccurate references to dracula lore
Tumblr media
the village is gone. burnt. fire crackles amidst the broken hymns of the dead—they don't sing, not anymore of course, but their losses are catastrophic. you never realized how the apocalypse could be so loud.
you stand at the centre of the chaos, bloodied. bruised. ruined. the lone survivor.
the only one who was lucky enough to be saved.
brought out from the pyre, you were dragged into the shadowed corners and hidden from the pillagers who slaughtered everyone you loved and everyone you knew. you shook in your grief, screams erupting from the base of your throat, but all were silenced by an ice-cold palm over your mouth.
"shh, little one," he said. the first of his words; the first of his kindness. "you must be quiet."
your fury sputtered into anguish, the loss descending to you like the first drop of snow. tears spring from your strained eyes, staining even his hand; you did not know how to compress the bloating agony that was pressing into your lungs. your only comfort was that he seemed to favour you enough to keep you safe, even if just for a moment. 
rain had fallen by then—it seemed like it knew that tragedy had struck this little place. it extinguished enough of the fire, washing away the smell of ashes and leaving only the pungence of iron. blood.
with it, your adrenaline wore off, and you began to feel the extent of your pain. of course, you were not unscathed, but you didn’t expect your body to be so brittle. 
you fell, tumbling into the muddy ground and right before his feet. you croaked in pain, lungs constricting. it was becoming a lot more difficult to breathe, to speak. you wondered why death came to you slowly.
he knelt down by your side, cold hand brushing away at your dirty hair. he was speaking to you softly, words passing through his lips in soft lilts. you struggled to hear him, your ears ringing, numb, as your mind pulsed in your skull.
you groaned, begging him to stop. to go away. you had nothing to pay him back with, nothing to entertain him, so you told him just as much. you told him to let you die in silence because how else could he save you?
“that is troubling,” was all he said, his words were rumbled from the depths of his chest like he hadn't used his voice in eons. 
you peeled your eyes open, wondering what it must be that he was after, then you finally saw what he was—pale skin gleaming underneath the moonlight with eyes dark like wine. he was not a human. he couldn’t have been one.
your mother told you tales of the wicked. of those cursed and abandoned by the almighty father—she told you of their beauty, of their wealth, of their hunger.
(they do not know how to love, she said as she tucked you underneath your sheets. they only know how to deceive.)
your body locked, heart congested with fear—your body knew then, didn’t it? that this being that held you close was far more terrifying than the invaders. that your body survived the fire, the greed of humanity, only to be devoured by the devil.
“please,” you whimpered, the will to live burning inside you once again. you didn’t care about the pillagers, you didn’t want their mercy, but this being. this creature of the dark, oh how you craved his clemency.
“please, save me.”
“i cannot save you,” he said. 
his hand fell to your throat, grasping it gently, almost reverently. he swiped his thumb along the expanse of your skin to feel the way you swallowed. 
“but i can help.”
you tried to reply, to beg once more, but the words could not be sounded out, your throat having been too ruined for any prayer. you shook with your desperation, turning your eyes to him to express your ragged hope. you prayed that he may see your plea. you prayed that he may bless you with his curse.
he smiled, fangs glinting before your eyes. then, he murmured, “of course.”
(mama? how do you know when your prayers are answered?
well, sometimes it starts off painful.
painful?
yes, little star. but then, it becomes euphoric. freeing. good suffering.)
his teeth tore into your skin, ripping apart the muscles as it hunted for the blood. you screamed, throat scratching at the intensity of your pain; it was unbearable, burning unlike that of fire, scalding as it slithered down your very being. something was happening then. something unholy. 
you were being remade. reshaped. taken apart one bloodied fragment at a time.
you felt like you were at the precipice of death, so close to the edge and into eternal damnation, but he would not let you. chained to his hunger, your body writhed underneath the extent of his power; burning. burning. burning.
he was your new pyre. 
he was hell.
you begged for anything to subdue the pain; for a touch kinder, warmer; for the ceasing of it all. 
and it did.
his lips left the sensitive patch of your neck, pulling away with a hummed smile as though it were ambrosia he was sucking out of you. you stared at his lips, stained with your blood, and, within a fraction of a heartbeat, unrelenting hunger coursed through you.
you yowled, your mind heavy and your body sore. you felt lost; you felt like you were drained and left as nothing but a shell of what you once were.
“good. that’s good,” he crooned, his eyes wrinkled in his joy. “this hunger is proof of your new life.”
he brought his wrist to his lips and bit into his own skin. the first puncture oozed out with blood; you watched it pool, beading, before it trickled down the length of his arm. your throat constricted, tongue heavy all of a sudden in your mouth.
a taste. you craved for a taste.
he smiled as he pressed his wrist to your lips. “go on,” he murmured. “drink.”
you were delirious, or you must be, for you to have listened to him—your weak hands grasped at his wounded arm, pulling it closer to your maw.
you drank. 
that experience of having the first drop on your tongue was indescribable. it was like you have never eaten before; like you have never been fed. never been nourished.
it was like anything that sustained you before had been erased from your memories; you don’t remember the taste of your mother’s cooking anymore, nor the sweets that your grandmother brought home with her for you on occasions when her mistress remembered to reward her, nor the milk from your father’s cows. 
every sweet memory was washed away by the blood pouring down your throat; every gulp a sinister promise of what would be irreversible.
your body sang, skin mending itself, and bones healing underneath torn muscles. numbness filtered in—it had never felt like salvation before.
lost in your new paradise, you didn't notice as your saviour cupped your cheek once more. his touch was gentle. it was kind.
he leant forward and kissed your forehead—a reward for surviving.
“my name’s simon,” he whispered, nuzzling you. “and you will be my bride, won’t you, my dark miracle?”
your mouth left his arm, reluctant but necessary, because even before he said his name, you knew he was your master. you knew that in exchange for this new life he’s cursed you with, you were to be obedient to him no matter what. 
you nodded, breathless and ragged.
“yes, my lord.”
274 notes · View notes
preeningpisces · 1 month
Text
Geto NSFW Headcanons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤
Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons
(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)
18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader
Pre-Incident
꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex
꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive
꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually
꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does
꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable
꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee
꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow
꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence
꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed
꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help
꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable
꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs
꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much
꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?
꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable
Post-Incident
꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho
꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation
꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes
꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure
꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy
꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)
꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce
꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination
꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭
꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!
꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise
218 notes · View notes
mentos-or-mentoes · 2 months
Text
Headcanons! Cult of the lamb
Leshy, Heket, Shamura, Kallamar, Narinder and The lamb.
General:
(this will be in follower form for the bishops)
Leshy
Dude is definetly not happy upon being indoctrinated into the cult.
Like first he gets killed by the lamb and NOW he has to follow their commands? Yeah to say the least he might be a bit annoyed at first.
When you first introduce yourself, he might be a little skeptical mainly because he was a bishop so what were you gonna do? Make fun of him? Pull a ''prank'' Just because you could?
Surprisingly, no! You were kind, just trying to get to know him better, and trying to get him to know the cult a little better.
He is forever greatful if you help him around the place.
Romantic:
If Leshy smells anything he thinks is something like a flower, then he might try and guide you towards them.
Mainly because it might be difficult picking them, when he cant see where the hell he's going.
9.5 / 10 hugs and you cant convince me otherwise.
He might be a bit moist because of all the stuff growing on him but he definetly smells nice. (or atleast i headcanon it as such).
He can and will be a living scarf if he REALLY craves your attention.
He will just snuggling up to you in the middle of whatever you were doing.
Heket
General:
Heket was not the happiest when she awoke in the lambs cult to say the least.
Allthough she was hungry, (cant blame her tbh).
When you approached her and offered her a couple of berries as a little welcome gift you definetly became one of her favorites.
She probably didn't even want to try and care for someone that isn't her siblings, at this point.
She especially appreceates if you basically speak for her, mainly because you can get to the point (and the words) alot faster then her.
Heket will do absolutely anything to avoid you or anyone else finding out anything that embarrases her that isnt known, like her losing to the lamb.
She enjoys all meals with either you or her siblings.
Romantic:
If you pick her up in front of others for no reason you are getting the frog equivilent of a bitch slap.
She does still have a reputation to uphold to prevent the followers from being too cruel even as a member of the cult.
Okay but seriously, Heket is basically your knight in shining armor.
Someones bothering you? just tell Heket, and she will take care of it.
She loves it when you bring her snakcs while waiting for a meal to be done whenever you cook.
Can and will pass you notes of what she wants you to say to someone, if she's really annoyed bcause of something they did.
Might be dissapointed if you rephrase it, to not be as rude as what she wrote.
Shamura
General:
Them always seeking knowledge was definetly one of the things that allowed you to bond with them quickly.
You telling them about things they might find interesting, and them sharing some of the things they remember.
Shamura likes it when you remind them of small things they might forget.
They also like sharing stories of their past with you, or giving you small gifts.
Not that they cant defend themselves against other cult members who might be looking for payback (they probably can't).
But you talking some sense into the cultists heads definetly does not go unoticed.
Romantic:
Shamura probably does like cuddles, especially when comforting them.
Might forget that you gave them something and try to return it to you.
If you remind them, then well they'll probably feel a bit ashamed that they forgot one of your gifts.
Please comfort Shamura if this happens.
(sorry i couldn't come up with much for them Shamura fans).
Kallamar
General:
Kallamar is a very nervous person so you showing them kindness was definetly unexpected.
you being nice? To him, and this quickly? You must be plotting something, he thought. but when you continuesly kept showing kindness and defended him from any rude cult members, he quickly realized that it wasn't the case.
he likes it alot when you reassure him that everythings gonna be fine. This man isn't much for standing up for himself. So if you do stand up for him, when other cultists come to do whatever they'd wanna do, he'll be very thankful.
If you went through the trouble of learning sign language just to communicate with him easilier his heart basically melts (not literally though).
Romantic:
He loves holding your hand. he likes the comfort of you being around.
expect him to be with you for a majority of the time.
will hug you whenever he feels nervous if he is allowed to (usually he is).
If he's trying to talk to you about something personal he'll usually use sign language with you when alone.
Kallamar spends so much time with you that half of his stuff is probably at your place.
Narinder
General:
He was not letting anyone even try and converse with him, after his indoctrination.
Not like people were gonna try anyway, considering what he tried to do.
But theres always someone different, and that just so happened to be you.
You kept trying to start a conversation, pestering him untill he finally tried to actually speak with you.
He wasn't very happy when he finally did start talking.
Despite that you just kept coming back.
Soon he actually started trying to engage the conversations, not really having much else to do.
Small conversation became a small friendship.
Soon Narinder found himself actively trying to spend time with you , and you were more then happy to do so.
Atleast the place wasn't as bad now for Narinder.
Romantic:
This dude is for close to anything but PDA (Public displays of affection).
Will purr if you hug him.
Narinder will never admit it but he's a total cuddle bug when in private.
Will do anything to prevent the lamb from finding out because he already knows he's gonna get teased for eternity the second they find out.
May or may not actively seek you out if he's getting really needy for some cuddles.
Will have orange cat level stupid behavior if he somehow gets his hands on catnip.
The lamb / Lambert.
General:
upon first meeting you, for whatever reason you were wandering around the lands of the old faith, they immidietly asked if you wanted to become part of their cult.
Likes your dedication to the crown and the cult
If you're especially dedicated to the cult then they might read your mind (and might find out you're in love but who knows).
Definetly tries to become closer with you.
They might ask if you wanna go on walks to take a break from all the work.
If you have any problems then the lamb will be willing to do just about anything to help (not everything though).
Romantic:
The lamb definetly makes the first move.
They shower you in gifts, kisses and cuddles whenever they're not busy.
Will do a marriage ritiual as soon as you feel comfortable with it.
Will spend lots of time with you in their free time.
You're probably being put in charge of taking care of things whenever they go on crusades, mainly because they trust you the most.
Doesn't have alot of time when they're not working but they spend almost every second that they're not busy beside you
Expect surprise hugs.
Lots and lots of surprise hugs.
Alot of people are probably both jealous and happy for you because of you being with the lamb.
The lamb does not care because they got the most wonderful person in the world as their partner aka you <3.
(Hope you enjoyed my first ever headcannons)
229 notes · View notes
followthebluebell · 3 months
Note
entirely random question, if you happen to have any thoughts on it: why are cats so terrible at fetch when dogs aren't? even kitties who enjoy the "chase-and-return" concept usually don't actually fully return the toy when it seems like dogs work that part out pretty quick.
Because we bred dogs to do it, basically. A lot of dog breeds are retrievers, which do exactly what it says on the tin: they retrieve things. Teaching my poodle to play fetch didn't require much 'teaching' because those instincts are right there at the surface. He wants to fetch things the same way an artist wants to create. It's what he was born to do.
Even dogs that aren't retrievers are still dogs and are, in general, hardwired to listen and learn from people. People can and will make an argument about 'oh, but this breed is STUBBORN' (ie, huskies, salukis, a lot of hounds tbh, pretty much every primitive breed, etc; I'm not going to sit here and list all the breeds that are deemed 'difficult to train'), but I don't think that's fully accurate. Primitive breeds that are 'hard to train' are STILL going to learn from humans. They just don't always learn the things we're trying to teach them, but that's an entirely different kettle of fish.
I also want to emphasize that I FULLY believe that dogs changed us too. I don't think humans would be what we are today if it wasn't for our fully unique relationship with dogs. There's no other animal that we've domesticated the same way we have dogs, and there never will be. They fulfill so many roles in the development of human kind that it's astonishing. They were our hunting companions, our guardians, our trackers, our food, they even supplied wool (the salish wool dog is an extinct breed that was raised for wool similar to sheep), and our friends. Because of them, we became human. Because of us, they became dogs.
i'm sorry i'm getting really emotional about dogs. It's just that there's such a deep relationship between the species. Over our centuries, dogs became so incredibly attuned to us, to the point where they have the ability to communicate with and understand us more than any other domesticated species and we have the same with them. There's no other species on earth that inherently understands what a human means when we point a finger, but dogs DO.
basically dogs fetch because we bred them to want to retrieve, they want to learn things from us, and we want to teach them. Cats don't have any of these instincts. This doesn't mean they're any lesser or greater. They're just different and that's fantastic.
184 notes · View notes
ask-nyc-boroughs · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Early Appalachian frontiersman Alfred in buckskin circa 1790- 1810s. I’m trying to figure out how to paint like NC Wyeth digitally (so lol the background is Wyeth’s).
Gonna ramble a bit about my nor’easter au and Alfred below the cut
Following the American Revolution, Alfred is immediately sent out to squash any rebellions (like whiskey rebellion) and to partake in wars against Indigenous nations like the Cherokee. I’ll save a discussion about the Cherokee wars for another time because that’ll take a long time to explain + I’m still working on my Cherokee oc and I need to understand Cherokee history and perspective more before I go forward with talking about this topic.
Now the many of the east coast states are older than Alfred, and they mostly supported him during the revolution because they thought he’d be easy to control given at the time of the revolution he wasn’t tied down as any colony or city. However, he was a New Englander and very obviously so
He was once Plymouth colony and he grew up alongside his cousin Henry/Massachusetts, but by the time the revolution occurred, his status was unclear and he was simply living with his cousin (who’s his earliest and most fierce supporter) .
These states operated like countries and part of why the had the revolution was to continue to self-govern and maintain their regional cultures. It’s also part of why the federal government initially was rather weak. Given Alfred’s closeness to his cousin, and his very staunch New England identity, I think the states would be hesitant over a strong New England national control. And so I think they especially Jennie/NY & Rich/Virginia encouraged Alfred to leave his cousin for a while, and partake in military campaigns (+ he was good at battle).
Also Alfred was like 14, and I don’t think he’s ever been the type to sit down and do paperwork. Honestly he was always a bad student, who was far more interested in the outdoors, horses, sailing and hunting. While he won the war, and he was fine with being head of state, he still didn’t 1) have confidence in himself to make non-military related decisions 2) he just wasn’t mentally ready to take on the responsibilities and was fine deferring it to his states like Jennie, Rich, or Henry to figure out matters that weren’t military related. He was irresponsible and it would come back to bite him in the ass during the Civil War.
Alfred on a personal level it was probably good for him to get away from his overly critical cousin who can be overbearing, but also so he would get more experience to deeply get to know his states.
Also Alfred, growing up in New England, he was a little ball of rage as a kid and he has a difficult time managing his emotions. He wasn’t exactly the personable seemingly fun loving Alfred of the present. Not that he couldn’t crack a joke, but ok I’m not from New England, but in the northeast I find we’re rather cynical, un-filtered and sarcastic and tbh kind of asssholes in the way we have fun and in our humor. That’s how he was, which is like fine unless you’re trying to appeal to the rest of the nation lol which he would have to
I think his time spent in Appalachia and the south did help him learn more about his other states especially Maisie/ North Carolina. But also helped him learn more how to let go some of this intense New England rage, and how to better control his emotions. But also let loose in a way that isn’t so dark and cynical. Also I think this helped him slowly learn how to speak with less of a New England specific accent
He was also able to observe states like Rich and Carl/ South Carolina and gain an understanding of how being able to control your emotions, can help control your image and how others perceive you. So these are the origins of how he slowly began to shape and become at least in public this overly friendly happy go lucky Alfred.
I’ll save a discussion about his interactions with the Appalachian states more explicitly another time I’m just tired😴 fr rn
123 notes · View notes
testingthewatersss · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
One day I'll get a request and keep it short, but uh, not today because this could've easily been a series. Under 4k is good for me though, so that's a win.This is my first time consciously shooting for a G/N reader in a long time so, bare with me.
Tumblr media
Floodgates Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x G/N Reader Imagine 3830 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.
Tumblr media
Everybody knows that Bucky is touch-starved. It's the unspoken truth that's used by everyone to excuse his irritable demeanour. It's the reason why nobody minds leaving the common rooms empty when he passes out on the couch in the middle of the day and Steve doesn't let Sam jab at him too much for how sweet he is on you. 
The hope that had flourished when you'd made your relationship a little more public was quickly dying out though. When all the inhabitants noticed that Barnes was still a grouch. If anything, he was more jumpy when people got too close. 
It was Bruce who suggested that the reason might be that the only person who didn't understand this blatant link between being kept isolated for the better part of a century and not tolerating mundane forms of contact might be Bucky.
After a lot of hushed discussion, Natasha was the one who decided to address it. Not being able to stand the undercurrent of gossip, but also not wanting to provoke any kind of intense reaction, she bided her time and cornered you. 
"Does Barnes know he needs some skin on skin, or is he still takin' the long way round figuring it out?"
Coffee catches in your throat. You're in a Starbucks, you've just run a stupid 5k route that you hadn't wanted to and she's asking you this, now?
"Of course, he knows" You reply after a beat, "I mean, we all know, but he really knows."
She looks unsurprised, offers you a brown sugar packet and sits back on her stool. 
"You know, couples-"
"Are you about to give me a sex talk?" you cut her off, humour making your lip quirk, "Please do not give me a sex talk"
"I wasn't talking about sex, we all know you're havin' plenty of that-"
You scoff at her, not bothering to ask how or why that's a topic of discussion at all. 
"-I know exactly what you're talking about..." you decide to say, tone a little more serious now, "...It's delicate, Nat"
"That's why I'm talking to you" she replies, "I want to stop hearin' about it, and the only way I can get Rodgers to stop talkin' is to stop him from worryin' and the only way to do that is give him something."
You consider her words for a moment before nodding. 
"He knows, I know- We all know, but it's difficult for him and I am not going to rush him into anything" You tell her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not keepin' an eye, and for what it's worth, he's gettin' better with the whole thing."
"His attitude didn't seem better this mornin'-" she counters from behind her paper cup, "He nearly Wilson put through a wall-"
"-for trying to get him to go to a couples therapist with Steve." You remind her smugly, "He told me all about it."
It's her turn to scoff then. 
"Any other personal things you want to ask me?" you press, half a challenge. She grins before making her expression intensely serious-
"So, about the sex-"
You don't linger in the cafe for long, and you definitely don't run back. You call a cab, much to Romanoff's dismay. The break from the serious atmosphere of the tower has done wonders for her mood though, and by the time you make it home your arms are ladened with bags. Fast food for everyone and clothes and some new kind of tablet thing that Tony had insisted he can turn into a portable holo-deck.
Bucky is waiting in your suite. 
The second you see him the conversation you'd had about his attitude seems ridiculous. 
He beams up at you so wide that he gets creases by his eyes, and all he can do is chatter about everything that's happened since you left.
Steve annoyed him by out-lapping him on their run. 
Wilson annoyed him, by well, breathing apparently. 
He's finally figured out how to fix the dishwasher, so he doesn't have to call maintenance anymore, and he's finished packing his bag for the mission he's leaving on in the morning, and, he tells you proudly- he's made dinner. 
It's some kind of soup, at least, you think it's meant to be a soup. But, whatever it is, it's good. And he's still smiling as you wash the dishes, bumping his hip against yours when you make a snarky comment about him still not using the dishwasher he's so proud of fixing.
And then he gets quiet. 
You're sitting together on the couch, the same way you have been for hours, with your legs barely touching but with his warm, flesh fingers wound tightly through yours. You think about asking why he's suddenly turned mute, but then you notice the time. 
"When do you leave?" You ask, stroking the back of his palm with your thumb.
"Four" he mumbles unhappily, giving your palm the lightest squeeze, "You're stayin' here, right doll? You're gonna wait for me?"
You laugh silently, pulling your legs up beside you to curl into his side. 
"Don't I always?" you tease, grinning as he reaches over with his metal hand, guiding your lips to his. 
"I'll be back before ten" He promises, "Steve promises"
"Oh, does he?" you murmur, lips still ghosting his, "You know he's driving Natasha crazy"
He quirks a brow, even so, close to his face you can see curiosity shining behind his eyes. 
"Aparently you're a jerk because I don't give you enough skin on skin"
He rolls his eyes, laughing as your fingers find his cheek.
The second you actually touch him, though- the laughter dies. He has to focus all of his energy on not moaning at the contact. 
You feel him tense and lessen the pressure, letting him move instead, pressing another kiss against your lips as he goes back to looking at you, this time, though, there's nothing but adoration behind the blue. 
"you do plenty" he whispers, before moving quickly, standing and pulling you up with him, carrying you effortlessly, "I'm fine."
"I know" You hear yourself agree, although you think he'll hear the doubt in your tone, "But- if you do ever want something, you know I'm here, right?"
What Bucky wants he thinks, is totally irrelevant. 
He wants to lay in your lap for hours, he wants to fall asleep and stay that way for hours because your fingers are in his hair. He wants to cry and not have to hide in a shower to do it. But you deserve better.
You deserve normal.
As normal as he can give you anyway. 
Not that that's much, but he can't control that he reminds himself sternly, what he can control, however, is this.
He can keep the floodgates closed. He can do what he does best and keep it down. 
He can make do with fleeting points of contact. With your hand in his, and your body in the same bed. The warmth of you is more than enough. You being there, smiling safe and lovely is more than enough. 
And when he places you on the soft mattress and watches you start to tangle yourself with the covers, he's once again certain that that is all he needs. 
What would I say, anyway? he thinks sadly, taking his place on the side of the bed that always seems too cold, How could I even bring that up without openin' a whole can of worms? 
His cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and as he thinks tragically about how much he wants to just reach out and feel you, his eyes start to sting.
"You doin' alright, sweetheart?" you ask, already knowing that he's not. He nods though and forces a smile you recognise. 
"Tired" he mumbles unconvincingly. 
Before his cheeks can get any more pink, you decide to smile back. It works to settle him. So does the way you reach out to take his hand again. 
"I'll try not to wake you up" he promises quietly, "I'll see you tomorrow night"
"Tonight" You correct, looking over at the clock on his nightstand, "It's 1, you're leavin' in 3 hours, you better try and get some rest."
You don't know whether he does or not. He's gone when you wake up, reaching out for the fingers you normally fall asleep holding. He's left a note, telling you he loves you, and that he'll see you soon. And you tell FRIDAY to send him a message wishing him luck. When you don't get a reply, you decide to keep yourself busy. You order a delivery of food, which Bucky needs more than he realises, the state of his small built-in kitchen is shameful it's at best and depressing at its worst. 
In all fairness, a punnet of pulmbs, some milk, 2 carrots and half a loaf of bread is far from that- but still. A stock-up isn't going to hurt anything.
And then you still haven't heard, and the tower is creepy when it's empty. 
Like a school at night, you muse, walking through the walls, chattering to FRIDAY just to have some background noise.
Aside from assuring you that everyone's vital signs are fine, she can't actually do much to distract you, so in the end, you abandon her too and settle for sitting in your suite, on the bed, exactly where Bucky had left you. 
You fall asleep reading and only wake up when you hear the door click open. You beam, rubbing tiredness from your eyes as you wait expectantly for him to come in and greet you. 
He doesn't though. You can hear movement but it's not coming towards you, so you decide to just go to it instead.
"Hi, sweetheart-"
Your happy greeting dies as soon as you see him. Flushed with adrenaline, and tugging at his belt, which is still laden with grenades. When he finally rips it free, tossing it to the floor with such reckless abandon that you can't help but cringe, you walk towards him. 
He's pulling at his vest now. Metal fingers pulling desperately at the straps that hold it in place, growing more and more frustrated as he can't quite get them loose-
"Here" you whisper, hating the look of anguish he's wearing, "Let me help"
His arm snarls as you reach out to replace his fingers with your own. But to his great surprise, you don't even flinch. You just hush out a soft breath and guide the metal palm away. 
"You're fine" you promise, seeing the way he's relenting. 
His brow meets the window as he leans against it, both arms falling lamely to his sides as he focuses on breathing. 
On staying still and not just taking off running until his legs give way beneath him. 
"You're back late" you muse, flicking a glance at the wall, where the time is being projected by what you're assuming is Tony's version of a wall clock.
11: 33
"Not too late though, huh?" you continue, knowing he likes the background noise, "Is anyone hurt?"
Bucky gives a short shake of his head. 
It hurts. The movement sends daggers through his eyes. But still, he bites his tongue and tries to keep still.
He needs the vest off. He needs the layers of heavy, bulletproof padding, gone. He needs to not feel like he's dressed for battle, and he needs the ringing in his head to stop.
"Just you then" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
"'m fine" he mutters, knowing you won't argue- especially since it's exactly what you've just told him.
You hum in quiet disagreement instead. Tugging the last of the straps free before letting the rough weighted vest fall to the ground with a dull thud that makes you wonder if you should've checked it for explosives first. 
"Better?" 
Your voice cuts through the pulsing in his ears, making him hyper-aware of the way he's still resting his head against the cool glass of a window of all things. 
Is it better? he thinks, rolling his shoulders unhappily. 
"Yeah" he murmurs, "Yeah, thank you, sugar"
And then he turns to you, wearing the fakest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but reach out and stroke his cheek. 
He flinches. He physically recoils back into the glass with a look so sad that you miss the false grin. 
"They-uh" he coughs, embarrassment burning through his chest, "They shouted my words out through a speaker" he confesses, "I- I probbaly shouldn't even be here- Steve, Tony, they all, all say I'm okay, but I- I might... I, I just wanted to see you"
Your phone is already in your hand. Typing frantic questions to Natasha, to Tony and Steve and feeling your whole chest relax as replies start flooding in. 
The words are deactivated, as deactived as they can be, anyway. He's not a danger, not that a different answer to that question would've changed anything, and everyone knows where he is. When he'd bolted from the Quinn-jet in irritable silence, the entire team had let him go because they knew exactly where he was going, and considering the fact that he's physically uninjured, fighting to get him to go to Med-bay would've been a waste of everyone's energy. 
They still might've tried, in fact, Steve definitely would've tried, if they hadn't all been exhausted already. 
When you look back up at him, your heart cracks straight down the middle.
He's just, waiting. 
Eyes closed, brow on the glass,with his breath making it fog up by his face. 
His back is heaving too, shining in the dim lights of the room. His back is shaking like he's crying, but his jaw is locked tight. 
"What do you need, huh?" you wonder softly, not moving to touch him again, "Sweet, sweet boy- you got off that plane, and you ran- you ran all the way here, and then you stopped in here, why?"
His eyes flicker open, red and sore. 
"I" he swallows, "I had to get it off"
You quirk your head, not understanding, and then you see the vest by his boots and nod. 
"It hurts" he mutters to himself, "It's always hurt. I needed it off"
You know he's not talking to you, but you nod all the same, hoping that it might at the very least encourage him to keep his eyes open.
And then you realise what he's saying, and you can't keep quiet anymore.
"What hurts?" you ask softly.
His cheeks are hot again. He knows that he's embarrassed. That he should be, that it's right that he's burning with shame, but with the way his head is splintering he really doesn't care.
"The vest," he tells you quietly, "My skin, it- uh...it's always... the scars they uh... I- I needed to get it off..."
He looks at you, expecting to see a hint of something. Disgust, maybe? Or pity. What he doesn't expect, is the way you just nod again, expression understanding as you inch closer towards him. 
He bites back a whimper, using all the strength he has left to not just collapse in your arms. 
Keep the floodgates closed.
"Its off..." you remind him mildly, "Your home, it's off... so, what else do you need?"
Bucky blinks, sniffing to try and stop tears from forming as he stares at you.
And then, he hears you sigh, and his chest tightens so much that he can't catch a breath. 
A sigh is never good. He thinks. He's done it. He's finally done it. He's done something that has made you realise he's a lost cause. 
He's the lost cause. 
But, when he forces himself to look back at you, wanting to memorise your face before you leave his world forever, no matter how painful it is, he sees you smiling. Leaning against the window, only inches away from him. 
"I want to help" you promise softly.
A disbelieving scoff bubbles up through the tightness of his throat, and for a second, you think he looks like himself again. Even if he's a little rough around the edges.
"You did..." Bucky reminds you quietly, "I couldn't get it off, and you helped me"
The urge to roll your eyes at his gratitude is quickly tempered by the genuine affection in his tone. You settle for nodding instead. 
"So what else do you need?"
This time, when your hand meets his face he shivers. Feeling something deep in his chest snap as he starts to lean back into the contact. 
"C-could you..." he gulps, desperately shy now, "God, doll- could you just, touch my hair?"
"Your hair" you murmur, love drenching every word as you slowly trail your fingers up past his temple, stroking through the tangled length so gently he wants to scream. 
"Please" he shudders, "don't pull-"
His frantic request chokes off incomplete, the heat in his cheeks making his jaw lock petulently.
"You don't like havin' your hair pulled?" you muse, tone light in contrast to his, "Noted."
"Does anyone?" he wonders bravely, adjusting to the slow, trailing warmth across his head.
You laugh at that, further coaxing him out of his embarrassment.
"Sure they do, Buck," you tell him conversationally, "people like all kinds of things..."
He's melting. He's sure he's physically melting into your fingers. Into the gentle tug and pull, into the wonderful, brilliant sting of human contact.
All you hear is the softest hum. It's content though, so you take it as a win. 
"So since this definitely a winner..." you drawl, bringing your free hand down to his, letting him grasp your fingers in reflex, "What else do you like?"
The part of his brain that isn't purring like a cat, stuttering to a halt at your question. His eyes focus, as he blinks at you, face full of such total adoration that you feel like you should probably look away, but he's so beautiful that you can't quite manage it. 
"You"
That makes you laugh, small and flattered as you shake your head.
"You've got me, Barnes." You remind him lightly, "If we could be doin' anything, anythin' in the world, right now what would we be doin?"
The smile he gives you then is the most precious one he's ever worn. Your whole body flushes with affection as he chuckles silently reaching up and pressing a kiss against the back of your hand, as you scratch your free knuckles against the back of his head.
"I have no idea" he mumbles honestly.
Your brow quirks, before you move, pivoting and opening your arms to coax him in.
He freezes, staring at you with longing as he offers a sad shake of his head-
"I can't- darlin'-" he stammers nervously, "I want to- I- I really- I-"
"You" he hears you whisper, "can do whatever you like."
He shakes his head again, stubborn this time.
"Not that" he mumbles, "Not to you"
"To me" you repeat, curious.
His lips tighten and then part, breath shallow as your thumb finds his cheek.
"I won't be able to stop" he explains, voice quiet like he's sharing a secret, "If I start, I won't ever be able to stop and you- you're-you're everythin' to me and I- I can't put that on you- because I really- I mean it- I don't-"
Your head is already shaking, your arms are moving, pulling him into your chest. 
"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop" Bucky feels his words melting into your shoulder, he feels the heat of your body against his. His bare chest burning against the thin fabric of your vest. The feeling of your skin against his threatening to make his knees buckle. "I- I won't be able to stop"
You shake your head, hushing him as his resistance fades away to nothing. As he goes pliant in your arms, head falling to the crook of your neck. 
"I'm sorry" he whispers, "I'm so sorry"
"You're never listen" You mumble in reply, letting his hand go so that you can hold him tight against your front, "I just told you, sweetheart..."
Bucky pulls away just enough to look at you, and when you see tears brimming in his eyes, you can't help but hush him again, noting the way his hands are wound tight into the fabric you're wearing. 
His lower lip pouts, he tries to avert his gaze but it doesn't work. He just can't manage to tear his eyes away from you. From the way you're looking at him, full of affection. Full of patience and kindness and-
"Didn't I just tell you, huh?" you murmur, smiling a little again, "You've got me"
He blinks, still not understanding. 
So you do the only thing you can. 
You kiss him. You kiss him until he pulls back, until he dips back down into your arms, tired and aching and pressing his own kisses against the skin of your throat.
"I'm not goin' anywhere" You remind him gently, "We don't ever have to stop"
We don't ever have to stop.
Your sweet words rattle through his mind all the way to the bedroom. 
If it weren't for the aching in his knees and the awful cold of the room now that he's not hidden in your front, he might not've even noticed the journey. 
He's too tired, now. His head aches, and his adrenaline is well and truly shot. But the hope of you, of more of the wonderful warmth of you, is more than enough to keep him moving through it. 
I've done worse for less, he reminds himself with every wounded step. 
We don't ever have to stop.
And then there's the bed. The edge of the bed against his calves, and he knows his hands are free and that he should be doing something but he can't think of what, no matter how hard he tries.
You remind him, your hands on his belt, your feet nudging his boots so he remembers to kick them free before finally lowering himself onto the covers.
For a minute the familiar coolness jars him. His head spins and throbs and pulses and then, 
and then your fingers are back in his hair. Your arms are wrapped around him, and all he can feel is warmth. 
Warmth and pressure building behind his eyes. Incredible pressure that finally spills free as his eyes overflow. As he surrenders and clings onto your back with all the strength he has left, and cries.
He sobs, silently at first, tears melting into your chest as you stroke his back. Whispering soothing words that you know he can't hear. Letting him finally just be. 
And then, he's asleep. And so are you, a tangle of limbs and covers and heat. The kind of heat that makes you drowsy, that makes Bucky drowsy. 
Drowsy enough to sleep through whatever nightmares were bound to have been triggered by the missions, drowsy enough to keep him that way for hours in a row. And when he does wake up, for the first time in... well, a long time- he's smiling.
Tumblr media
210 notes · View notes
itsss4t4n · 2 months
Note
Hi!! Could I get some harry hook x male!reader where reader is the eldest child of Anna and Kristoff please? Also maybe reader looks just like his mum but acts like his dad? Thanks and sorry if it's too specific fjdjdjvjs
Always - Harry Hook x male!reader
a/n: I honestly think that reader personaliy is more like anna han kristoff. somehow i really struggled wih that. i lowkey hate this but i still hope you enjoy his <3
warnings: no use of y/n, making out, small fight/angst, ew emotions, I love some good drama, i hate this tbh, not proofread
Tumblr media
When Mal decided to open the barrier forever, it was cerainly an adjusment for everyone.
The Vks that came over to auradon were enrolled into auradon prep and all assigned an auradon student to help them settle in and answer any questions they might have.
You weren't the biggest fan of that arrangementt. Not because you didnt like or trust the vks, you were actually quite close with all of the cour four. You just werent a big people person. So having to share your dorm with someone you dont know and most likely having them at your side 24/7? Not ideal for you.
Especially when you heard who you were going to be paired with. 
But Mal had basically begged you to help. 
"Please. I know you dont like this but he is kind of difficult and i know that you could handle him. I dont know anyone else that could."
So you reluctantly agreed.
Mal was right. Harry Hook was certainly difficult. He was really stuck in ways and refused to change. He refused to follow any rules, he was mean and he hated school. And the worst thing? He was stupidly hot.
Now, you hated school just as much, and you did skip a few lessons here and there but you had respect for your teachers and your peers. And you knew that unfortunately school was important for your future. 
Usually you couldnt care less if other people got on trouble but harry was your responsibility now, so everytime he got into trouble, you were getting dragged into it. And you hated it.
So thats how you ended up in fairy godmothers office for the 7th time that week (it was thursday) sitting next to Harry, who just looked bored while you were about to beat him up.
This has been happeneing for almost 3 months at this point.
"This can not keep going on. Harry If you cannot follow the rules and integrate yourself into Auradon then we might be forced to take stronger action." 
Back in your dorm Harry threw himself onto his bed.
"Well that a tad overdramatic aye?"
You couldnt hold it in anymore. 
"HARRY! THIS IS NOT A GAME! YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE SIMPLY FOR THE SAKE OF IT AND YOU HURT OTHERS. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU ARE BASICALLY A FEW OFFENSES AWAY FROM EXPULSION?! AND IF THAT HAPPENS YOU BASICALLY HAVE NO CHANCE ANYMORE TO DO ANYTHING! NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR AS WELL. JUST THINK ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!"
Without looking at him you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.
The rest of your day was spend ranting to Mal and Evie about Harry.  Mal hat texted Uma during your rant, telling her to speak with Harry. He would probably listen to her. She was his best friend after all.
You dreaded going to bed that night. Just being in the same room with him.
Uma left your Room just before you arrived, so when you entered Harry was sitting on his bed, a conflicted expression on his face. 
You decided to ignore him, just grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading to the bathroom to change for bed.
When you exited the beathroom agin harry had also changed into sweatpants. GREY sweatpants.
Fuck. Was he trying to kill you?
His head perked up at the sound of the bathroom door. 
"Hey..."
You looked over at him.
"What Hook?"
He looked a little conflicted still, which confused you. Why the sudden change in mood?
"Look... I'm nae good at this but- fuck..." He sighed exxasperated. "I wanted to apologize."
You head snapped to him again In surprise.
"What?"
"I acted like a total dickhead." He started ranting, trying to get it all outbefore he mentally talked himself out of it. " I didnt care how I might hurt ya. And I don't even have a good reason for that. I was just scared. I was scared of being vulnerable. All I have ever known was the Isle. I am used to hiding myself behind a Tough outside and I was scared to change from that."
Harry quickly wiped his eyes of the tears swimming in them, hoping you wouldnt notice. But you did.
You were shocked by his sudden and surprisingly honest outburst. For a few very long seconds you just stared at each other.
"Harry...." You took a slow step towards him. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how hard this would be. And I know it will be difficult, but i promise you that from now on you wont have to hide anymore. You're safe here." 
Now, standing right before harry, you layed your hand on his shoulder. Harrys eyes met yours, once again swimming with tears but a small smile gacing his lips.
"Thank ye."
You reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from his eye, your hand resting on harrys cheek, his head leaning into your touch.
You noticed how close you two had gotten. Your eyes flickering from harrys eyes to his lips for a split second.
"Harry?" Your noses brushed against each other ever so slightly.
"Yea?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"I really hope I'm not reading this wrong," You voice matched his. "but can I kiss you?"
Harry was silent, and for a few excruciating second you truly thought you were wrong. Harry was into guys, you knew that much. He didnt hide that part about himself. But did he like you?
"Yes please." 
A small sigh of relief left your mouth as you leaned in, your lips moving against his. Harrys hands moved to your hips, gripping at the exposed skin, thanks to your lack of shirt. In turn your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers gripping onto his hair.
When you parted for air, you kept your eyes closed, your foreheads leaning against each other. 
For a few seconds all you could hear was you heavy breathing and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears, before Harry leaned in and kissed you again. His hands pulling you flush against his bare chest by your hips.
Once again you pulled back, this time a little more, looking into each others eyes.
"Thank ye, darlin"
"Always."
123 notes · View notes
Text
Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side A: Round 1
Rules:
do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified
do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice
if you are posting propaganda you have to tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed
please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!
have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you
Tumblr media
Evergreen | She/her | @insertsona
shes just kind of chilling tbh . she's technically unemployed (didn't feel like it) and spends most of her time vibing . her ex recently returned to the city after randomly disappearing for years and she was just kind of oh hey glad youre back . her most interesting trait is that she takes part in a fighting tournament once a year and wins it usually . and shes transgender
Promos: evergreen is a character in my oc universe teunia! shes a side character in the main story the tourney and a slightly more main character in the unnamed prequel that i think abt very often (but have yet to develop . bc im too busy thinking abt my dr oc constantly)
teunia's folder -> https://toyhou.se/InsertSona/characters/folder:3849690
~
Zephyr Fey | He/him | @lord-plague
An averagely built guy who somehow managed to join the military force of his fortress city without a birth certificate, ID, and with dyed hair. Nobody knows where he came from, nobody knows why he is here but there he is. No magic or superhuman abilities or prodigal skills but my god does he make great goo bowls with greater personalities (nobody wants the goo bowls and he does not know why). That one friend that keeps trying to alleviate awkward situations with jokes and random laughter.
~
Full images and descriptions under the cut!
Tumblr media
EVERGREEN IS LITERALLY SO JUST SOME GUY. despite being a repeat champion for the tourney she lives in a shitty studio apartment . she had a girlfriend that was also her rival and then they broke up and she was just oh ok! her hobbies include vibing, hanging out, etc. shes like those old guys you see watching planes take off or construction occur . nobody knows where she gets her money from . her ex's new partner is a friend of hers. she doesn't even bear any relevance to the first main plotline because she's too busy doing other stuff she just happens to also be in the city while the horrors occur . sometimes shell go to the local coffee shop and just not order anything . i wanna be her friend . i havent actually posted her on tumblr . shes so some guy that most of the facts abt her character i can think abt are so mundane i never even bothered to write them down
Tumblr media
[no extra description provided]
93 notes · View notes
marmot567 · 22 days
Text
bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]
Tumblr media
pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next
Tumblr media
it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree
PART ONE: ichigo daifuku
Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.
He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.
Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.
“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”
You look at him.
“Why are you here again?”
“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”
You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”
He smiles, wryly.
“You’re joking, right?”
+
The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.
You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?
Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.
But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.
You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.
“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.
“I guess,” is your reply.
“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”
The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.
“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.
Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.
“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”
You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.
+
The koinobori flies.
“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.
She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.
“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.
She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”
You keep them with you until the end of the event.
The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.
Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.
Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.
Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.
+
He sits beside you at lunch.
Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.
“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.
“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”
“... And?” you prod.
He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”
“... I don’t want it.”
He looks at you thoughtfully.
“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.
You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”
You frown.
+
She’s a sweet girl.
You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.
She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.
You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.
Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.
But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.
She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.
You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.
You’ll always want sweet girls like her.
+
“Where’s Rika-chan?”
“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”
He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”
He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”
“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”
He falters, looking down at the ground.
“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”
The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.
If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.
You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—
“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.
He immediately brightens up.
“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”
His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.
“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.
You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.
He’s too close.
+
“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”
You didn’t. “... Yeah.”
“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”
She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”
“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”
“He’ll like anything you give him.”
She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?
Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”
Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.
You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.
You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.
+
“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”
“She hates her,” you say quietly.
Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”
“Uwah—you remember?”
“Rika-chan told me.”
“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”
“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”
He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”
+
It happens when you aren't there.
It never should have happened at all.
Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.
64 notes · View notes
latay7 · 1 month
Note
hi do you have any headcanons for abel and abyss?
Why hello helllooooo ><
Thay you so much for your request and i hope i fullflled your wish how you wanted
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
General headcannons for Abyss and Abel ☆
ੈ✩‧₊˚genre : i think fluff with a few mentions of their background stories
ੈ✩‧₊˚Note : idk why is it taking me so long to do the requests 🥲
(Btw Devider by the amazing : @saradika )
Tumblr media
Abyss razor
For starters , we know how is our poor boy when comes to girls💀💔like , i love this man but....he is ...miserable.
So you can defently imagine the one sided tension between you too , but you were patient and gentle with him , it wasn't easier for him eaither.
At first , it took a while , but then he slowly warmed up to you because he saw how much of you were wiling to accept him for who he was. Which was something he questioned for a while.(my man will throw himself out the window if a female touched him )
I mean , not many people saw him as something other than a curse because of his eye , and being a part of the Magia Lupus , people feared him , stayed away from him.
But he was met with your kindness that no one has ever given him. He found himself thinking , Overthinking , why , why were you like this , to him ?? He was a monster , a curse...
But you saw beyond that , you saw the poor soul inside him that had to endure all that suffering , the little child that never got to feel love before , locked up in a dark room to cry himself to sleep , regretting being born , everyday.
If he was to describe it , it was how your hand slowly inches towards his so you don't jumpscare him , how you go easy with his overwhelmed self , your sickening sweet words thay he heard not with his ears , but his heart , the heart that was in you hands , and to sum it up. (i talk a lot...i know)
He loves words of affirmation and quality time , because it makes him feel the dedication and love you have for him , it makes him feel alive. And i think that he slowly leans towards physical touch since it was smth that we can say he NEVER had any of it in his life.
In return , he gives you acts of service and quality time as well (idk why but i think he's not that great with forming sentences , especially when girls) , he tries his best so you stay with him so he can live in your eternal love and warmth.
Abel and the Magia lupus know about you , athough he tries to keep you away from the latter , he sometimes tend to tell him about you when Abel notices his mood or behaviour being better than the previous days , and tbh , i feel like Abel would be a but delighted to see that change in Abyss (this is a wild take that i have no idea what basis is it taking.....headcanon w/o the head)
"Be careful of my heart won't you , see , you're taking it home with uou tonight , please , don't break it"
Abel Walker
You can fix him (wtf am i smoking)
Jokes aside , Abel , before his encounter with with Mash and you , had a very....specific....percpective of the world , but after you heard his story , you too were willing go change his looks towards the world and the people.
Approaching him was VERY difficult , let alone having a conversation with him , but you were consistant until Mash did what he did and Abel...opened up.
When you two got to talk , you tried to tell him more about what you think and see in this life but he seemed to dissmiss you , he didn't deny your ideas but he ignored you the first times.
He did that because you were kind and lovely , just like his mother , so he was intrigued , which led to unexpected outcome.
He starts showing up to you , out of te blue, for no reason 💀just to do whatever , you're studying at the library? He's there studying too, which is wierd because he as well denies the idea you're getting about him wanting go be friends.
But you're like "yeah sure buddy , whatever helps you sleep at night". He's curious , why do you think the way you think , he of course remembers his mother like that too , but he wanted to know more.
You show him , bit by bit , everything beautiful in life , and how forgivness is more powerful than revenge , and how helping others will benefit you more than focuisng on only yourself.
He didn't realise it and fell in love with you , and here , a new story began.
He's not that great with physical touch but he will always be there when you need him , freeing his schedule to be with you.
You're well acquainted with the Magia Lupus as well , (which he threatened : if anything happens to her on your watch , you're paying the price) so they to be as welcoming as ever with you.
He tells you about his mother and watchsd how you smile when he describes her and her kindness to you , and how you sympathise with him about her death.
You do everything you can to find the kind hearted soul in him , and despite him denying it , you're not gonna give up.
"It's you , despite everything , it's still you"
Tumblr media
That was crazy , ahhhhhhhh it took me soo long im sorrryyy
And i hope i did well because this was quite the risk that i took
Anyway , i noticed that i curse a lot so im sorry if that bothers anyone-
And hope u like my next works! I'll try to be quick
94 notes · View notes
Text
Maid To Be Yours
Tumblr media
Pairing: Dabi x Reader
Summary: Maid-Sama meets Touya Todoroki because that fucker would die to see you in a maid outfit. (Part 2)
Warnings: Smut, slight public-sex, language, vaginal fingering, the title tbh, Dabi too he gets his own warning
Word Count: 2.7k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Behind,” you muttered, slipping past the chef and into the main seating area.
The room was abuzz with soft music and the smell of nostalgia. Girls in a similar uniform to yours were presenting some steaming dish or cheerfully chatting with their customers.
Your own, a pair of teenage boys who were probably just here for a cheap look at the servers, were laughing heartily about something unimportant as you walked over.
As long as they tipped well, you didn’t really care.
With a polite smile, you passed them their checks. “Thank you so much for dining with us. Please come again!”
And with a small bow, you were gone, weaving around the tables toward the quiet sanctuary that the locker room provided.
It was fairly busy for a Wednesday night, which meant more money, but also meant more people to deal with.
The constant activity of a full house made it difficult to not become overwhelmed. And while you dealt with an overload of alarming tasks on a daily basis, it did become tiring after a while.
Your mind felt drained from the constant employment of a likable persona, your limbs heavy under the weight of fatigue from hours of carrying over-sized drinks.
Thankfully, the flow of customers had finally begun to trickle to a slow, allowing you the sweet relief of a well deserved break. The charming guise cracked as you slumped over a bench, allowing a weary sigh to slip through the fracture.
“You okay?”
“Hm?” You looked up, meeting eyes with your manager. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired, I guess.”
It had been quite the night, keeping you out well over two in the morning. Unfortunately, your last minute decision to take some overtime had you waking up a mere six hours later.
In hindsight, a horrible choice.
Flashing a grin, she shot you a thumbs up. “Well, you’re doing great! Thanks again for picking up all these extra shifts.”
Your manager was a kind woman, although you silently wondered whether or not the enjoyment she found in this line of work was exactly warranted. Regardless, she was lenient and in no way condescending, a trait you had seen in many of the other bosses you’d had the pleasure of working under.
She took a step into her office, pausing for a moment in thought before turning back in your direction. "Actually, I know you're about to go on break in a few minutes. Would you mind tossing the trash out real quick?"
"Sure, no problem."
"Ugh, you're amazing," She gushed. "Remind me to tell you about the new hire tomorrow, yeah?"
Another thing about your manager was that she was, for want of a better term, very communicative.
Seeing as you and the other waitresses were relatively close in age to her, she seemed to show great interest in your personal lives, which resulted in a good amount of friendly gossip among your coworkers.
This also produced some unwanted questions and comments. She thoroughly enjoyed the standard 'you're too pretty to be single,' or a good old petition to set you up with a friend or neighbor.
Thankfully, you were quick to come up with excuses or some other lie that would quell her curiosity until it was placed upon some other unsuspecting victim.
However, you wondered what she would say if she caught wind of those hidden aspects of your life.
Of course, it wasn’t as if she would actually come close to finding out about any of them.
No one would ever guess a member of the infamous League of Villains would be working as a waitress in a maid cafe.
Being a criminal didn’t pay the bills. It gave you a place to stay, even when if that place was a small room a few floors above a musty bar, but it didn’t give much leeway financially. There were still other utilities and items that required money, hence your need to find another job.
Obviously, this hasn’t been your first choice.
Public service was not for the faint of heart, even for someone who associated with killers and other psychotic individuals on the regular. Not to mention the dress code, which had you rethinking your life choices upon inspection.
Regardless, the pay was a lot better than many deserving workers in the restaurant industry received and the hours were flexible, a necessary benefit for someone like you.
The cafe was also fairly far away from both the League’s hideout and your own living area, giving you peace of mind that no one would ever find out about your embarrassing side-gig.
Another thing you had come to find about workers as a criminal was that a lot of your colleagues were assholes. This wasn't surprising, seeing as they killed people on the regular, but it definitely gave you ample reason to keep your personal life private, even if a particular blonde teenager vehemently voiced her disapproval of your attempted reservedness.
That was a can of beans you had no intentions of opening.
You tied the top of the trash bag, hauling it over your shoulder and nudging the back door open with your knee. It opened into an alleyway, secluded from the busy streets and surprisingly clean.
The dumpster lifted open with a creak. It threatened to fall closed, but you propped it up with the bottom of your palm, slipping the bag through and taking a quiet exhale of victory.
"No fucking way."
Tensing at the unforeseen voice, you spun around with your hands up and ready for any trouble. Your heart slowed slightly upon recognizing the familiar face, only to pick up a moment later in panic.
Out of everyone in the League, Dabi was most definitely the last person you wanted finding out about this. His cocky attitude and overall lack of empathy for those around him had you extra weary about what you let slide concerning your personal life.
The fact that you had taken a slight attraction to the man also might have been of influence.
Exactly why, you weren't sure, especially since he had seemed to have recently found entertainment in the pastime of getting under your skin.
Maybe you were just a masochist.
You fumbled in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up, but the damage had already been done.
His surprised expression brightened considerably as he watched a plethora of emotions wash over you in sick glee. "So, this is your other job?"
"What are you doing here?" You avoided his question, tugging on the ruffles of your skirt and internally cringing when the fabric barely covered the highest part of your thigh.
Crossing his arms, Dabi leaned back on the brick. "There was a situation on fifth. The police should be here in twenty minutes, so I would watch out for that."
You sighed in annoyance, but the cops were honestly the least of your worries right now. "Shouldn't you... ya know, get out of here then?"
"Eh, later. I'm enjoying this." He shrugged, almost like an arrest paled in comparison to his new discovery.
Dabi pushed off the wall and began walking over to you. With every step forward, you took one back, avoiding his advance until your own shoulders hit the building behind you.
Turquoise eyes unabashedly scanned your frame and you unintentionally shifted under the strength of his gaze. He must have noticed, a tip of smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "Who knew you were so cute?"
Blinking back in surprise, you shot him a glare that only made him laugh. "Don't call me that."
"Aww, is someone getting shy?"
"Pissed off, maybe," you muttered, trying to push past him and back inside the cafe, any place where you could sit and steep in your embarrassment alone.
Unfortunately, Dabi wasn't having it. He slipped an arm around yours, pulling you back around to face him.
"Oh, come on, doll." He tapped your nose with his finger, having it smacked away a moment later. "I think flustered is a great look on you. Do a little twirl for me, yeah?"
"I will kick your teeth out."
He gasped, the sound brimming in false hurt. "So harsh. Didn't you take this job for a chance to be nice to people? But if it was for the dress, I wouldn't judge either."
You rolled your eyes. "Obviously not, asshole. Shigaraki doesn't pay my bills."
"You know I have money, right?"
"And you'd be so generous to share?" You scoffed.
"In that little number," he cocked his head, a wicked grin flashing over his expression. "I'm sure we could work something out."
Heat bloomed up your neck at his insinuation, another insult getting caught in your throat.
Raising a hand to your temple, you let out an exasperated sigh in a meager attempt to regain your verbal footing. You had just about calmed down when you heard the shutter of a camera.
Your eyes shot up, heart dropping when you saw the phone in his hand pointing in your direction. "What are you doing?"
"Insurance policy." He inspected the photo for a moment. "There's no way anyone's gonna believe this without something some sort of proof."
"Dabi."
"Yeah, sweetheart?" His eyes flashed up to yours, faux innocence washing over his features at the anger evident in yours. "Oh, did you want this?"
Your fingernails bit into the palms of your hands, leaving tiny crescents behind that were evident of your vexation.
He loomed over you, eyes gleaming in sinful amusement. "You're gonna have to ask nicely then."
"Fuck you."
"Darn. Ya know, that's not the answer I was looking for." He swiveled on his heels, giving you an unbothered wave with his free arm. "See you later, doll."
You lunged forward, but he was quicker, not to mention taller.
With a surprising reaction time, he dodged your advance, lifting the phone until it was suspended just a few feet above your head. Every time you made a grab for it, he would straighten up just a few inches, making sure that the device was always centimeters from your grasp.
"Just give it!"
Dabi took hold of your elbow and pulled. You fell forward with a yelp, surprised at how easily he maneuvered your body against the wall. With your back pushing into the brick and his arms caging you in on both sides, there was nothing to do but succumb to his hold.
"You're telling me what to do?" The laugh he let out shot heat straight between your legs. "Sorry, doll, but I don't think you're not the one supposed to be giving orders here."
It was almost alarming how easily he was able to over power you, even more so how you barely even minded. Every suggestive sentence permeated your train of thought, thwarting any attempts you might have once had at preserving your pride.
His hands snaked down to your waist as he leaned forward, breath tickling the tip of your ear. "Now, I wanna hear it in that pretty, little customer service voice how much you want to keep this between us."
The movement sent a shiver down your spine. It was obvious that Dabi was an intimidating individual, but never like this. His presence was overpowering, the mocking tone of his voice a mere whisper of the intensity within his sharp features.
"Please keep this between us," you muttered, trying to push as much audible annoyance into the sentence as possible.
With a satisfied hum, he drew back and turned his phone off before slipping it in his pocket. "See how easy that was?"
"But you didn't delete it," you protested.
"Relax, sweetheart, I'm not gonna show anyone." His gaze raked over your form, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his lips. "I'm the only one who gets to see you looking like that."
The hand still holding your hips began to trail lower, gently grasping the top of your thighs.
Your eyes widened at the feeling. "What are you doing?"
Cerulean irises flashed up to yours as his movements came to an abrupt halt. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," you breathed, far too quickly for your liking.
A smirk cracked over his features. "That's what I thought."
And his lips crashed against yours, hands moving to cup your face in a gentle ardor you didn't know he possessed.
He lifted his knee, nudging it between your thighs and drawing a sigh from you. He took advantage of your surprise, slipping his tongue forward to meet yours.
The kiss turned desperate. It trailed down toward your jaw and right above your neckline, creating marks that you could only hope to be able to hide.
Lust began to cloud your senses, fogging over your mind until rational thought became unnoticed. You unconsciously began to roll your hips over his thigh, desperate for friction in whatever form possible.
With squeeze he gave your ass, and the way he grinned into your neck, it was evident that he noticed.
"Do you know how long I've thought about you like this?" His voice was coarse against your neck.
"In a maid outfit?" You breathed, earning a short laugh.
"Desperate for me to fuck you stupid, but that's good too."
Dabi sneaked a hand under your skirt, nudging the fabric of your underwear to the side. He ran a finger across your slit, examining the wetness that followed it with pure satisfaction. "Shit, I've barely even done anything yet."
Your body stiffened as his thumb brushed over your clit, slowing rolling over the nub until your hips followed each rotation.
Satisfaction flashed in his features at the way your body reacted to his touch. “That's right. Show me how needy you are for me."
“Plea-” the rest of the word fizzled into a sigh as he pushed a finger into you.
“Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” The encouraging statement reeked of mocking amusement. His hand curled into you, eyes brightening with every gasp and whine he pulled from you.
You grabbed onto his shoulder, legs weakening into jelly. "Fuck, Dabi, please!"
"There you go, doll." He slipped another finger inside and a moan slipped past your lips. The pace of each push increased steadily, following the wordless pleas that you gave.
Pleasure coursed through you with each one, his thumb still trained over your oversensitive clit. Your surroundings faded away into a mindless afterthought in the midst of euphoria.
It was only a few minutes before you were melting in his arms, falling apart in a mess of ecstasy.
“So pretty.” He muttered, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen askew behind your ear.
The world was quiet, bathed in a gentle glow that the setting sun provided. Shadows grew within the corners, a physical hint to the ever passing time.
Still, you could've stayed there forever, resting in the bright cerulean that admired your shaking form like it was a work of art.
Of course, it would have been surprising if you were granted that luxury.
Sirens sounded in the distance, a sound that you were more than familiar with, but one that had never been as unwanted as it was now.
Dabi seemed to share a similar sentiment.
“You've got to be kidding,” he groaned, drawing back and taking a look down the alleyway. Annoyance flashed over his expression, taking the place of worry that any rationally thinking individual would experience.
You cleared your throat. "Uh, you should probably get going then."
His gaze turned back to meet yours, softening a bit under the fading sun. Regardless, that shit-eating had returned, much to your dismay.
"How sweet of you to worry," He teased, earning an eye roll. Coming forward once more, he brought his lips to yours again before moving to leave. “See you later, doll. I'll make sure to fuck you properly then.”
You could only imagine what a mess you looked like, breathless and slumped against a wall behind your cafe. The brick supported your body as you saw Dabi's come to a pause, like a passing train of thought had overtaken his path.
Face still warm from his lewd comment, you watched him turn slightly, voice echoing off your surroundings in one final statement.
“Make sure to bring the outfit.”
682 notes · View notes
hollygracesworld · 3 months
Text
Lover | Patrick Wilson x fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary : You and Patrick had a one night stand a few months ago. And now you’re 6 months pregnant. You don't expect to meet the father of your child because you’re a woman who prefers to be alone. But fate said otherwise, you meet again with the father who made your stomach grow big.
And you stupidly didn’t know that he was an actor.
A/N : Just like the tittle, it’s a fluffy story :D the most romantic fanfic that i ever write tbh. There’s no warning :))
*Patrick didn’t have a wife in this story*
CHAPTER 1/2 ➡️(Chapter 2) sequel 18+
masterlist
CHAPTER 1.
Today is the most hectic day. You have to wake up at dawn to go to the airport. When you arrive at the airport you have to take care of your aunt’s two twin babies, then when it gets to noon you take the babies to go to the talk show.
When you arrive at the shooting location, you hope that your uncle will at least meet you and help you take care of his own children, but apparently not. That annoying old man even just looks at you who’s taking care of his 2 babies, nods, then goes back to minding his business as host.
Now the babies are quiet and asleep in their own stroller- after they cried for a long time and you have held them one by one so they fall asleep. It’s really tiring work for a 6 month pregnant mother. Actually it’s not a job, more like a favor to a relative in your family. No one else can help them except you, you actually don't mind because you don't want your family to think that pregnant women like you can't do any work.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Talk About It!” You heard your uncle’s voice from behind the screen.
You don’t care about things like that, but when your gaze accidentally looks at the huge Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom film poster displayed, you look confused. Your feelings are mixed. You seem to know the blonde man on the film poster. But deep in your heart, you deny it. Maybe you’re just hallucinating because you are very hungry and tired.
You try to peek through the window to see who is the guest star at the event. But you gasped when you saw who was there.
“…it is our guy Patrick Wilson… Patrick welcome back TAT.” the audience applauded then Patrick said there, “thank you..” with a big smile
You feel like this is like a dream. You’re confused, this is all very difficult for you to digest. You walk away from that place feeling dazed, your body is getting weaker, not only because you haven’t eaten, but because you know that the man who had a One Night Stand with you and impregnated you until your stomach was this big… is a famous actor.
When you walked backwards, your body almost fell, a crew member swiftly held your body and helped you. “oh my gosh, who are you, why are you here?” She grabbed your arm and led you to a seat beside the stairs.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.. I’m fine...” you said while looking at Patrick from afar, “he’s my uncle, today I'm taking care of his baby. His wife told me to go to this shooting location and after this event finished he immediately invited us to hang out. You know… it’s a holiday.” you said while pointing at your uncle who was the host.
“You look really pale, and you're pregnant,” she looked really worried about you. Then he stood up and invited one of his teammates to chat. After a short chat, he came over to you again and said, “please come with me. You haven’t eaten yet, right?”
You shook your head weakly.
“But… what about the babies? I have to keep looking after them... otherwise my uncle will get angry...”
“Don't worry, my friend will look after the babies.” She said with a sincere smile. She is a stranger who works there as a crew but she seems to have a motherly heart.
That kind crew helped you to stand up. You carry your very big stomach to walk out of that very crowded place. Somehow you can feel that your stomach is very big, even though it’s only 6 months, but your stomach looks like it’s more than that.
“Andrew is so mean,” she said in an annoyed tone, “how can he and his wife tell you to look after their babies? Don’t they see your condition?”
“Thank you,” you smiled faintly, and grabbed the water bottle she had given you, “I’m fine. Besides, this isn't the first time. Sometimes I help them whenever they need my help.”
“Yes, but it’s the same. They should know that you are pregnant with twins and they shouldn’t be bossing you around like this.” she said irritably then stood at the end of the room and took her lunch.
“Wait, how do you know I'm pregnant with twins when I haven't checked myself?” you asked in confusion.
“I don't know… just look at the shape,” she said lightly then sat back down next to you and handed you his lunch, “please eat. I know it's not much, but if you want to wait for Andrew, he's still very long and you You have to fill your stomach now.”
“Thank you,” you said then accepted the food, “Sorry for bothering you, I...”
“Please don't apologize. You’re a pregnant mother. I have seen that you are tired from taking care of the babies. I have been wanting to meet you for a long time, because I was afraid that something would happen to you." She said worriedly.
While you were eating, someone knocked on the door of the room and told him to go back to work.
“I'm sorry, I have to go, you can stay here to rest as long as you need.” She said with a smile.
After you finish your food. You grabbed your cellphone that was on the table and opened your Google. You are a woman who likes gardening and raising livestock. You don't even have social media, only send messages to your family and neighbors. The only reason you were going to a nightclub and losing your virginity to a guy you didn’t know is because you’re really stressed. You have just lost your older brother who is the only biological family who is still alive and lives with you.
And now you’re pregnant with someone's baby who took your virginity off in a nightclub and it turns out that person is a famous person. You’re typing “Patrick Wilson” in Google and it turns out...
You gasped in surprise. you still don’t know what to say. You think to yourself that maybe Patrick already has a wife or girlfriend, and maybe Patrick doesn’t know you anymore...
In the middle of that daydream, suddenly the door opened wide and your uncle was standing near the door with a guilty face.
“Y/N... I'm sorry. I'll take you home...”
You smiled, “it's okay, I'm just late eating.”
Your uncle smiled as he looked at your stomach, “how old are you in your pregnancy?”
“6 months... but it looks bigger, don't know why...” you whispered.
“You haven't seen a obstetricians recently, have you?" your uncle asked then you shook your head, “come here, before I take the twins to the park, we can check them first--"
“Let me." said a man mysteriously behind your uncle.
Your uncle turned and gasped, “Patrick-uh Patrick what are you doing here?”
Patrick laughed softly, “I know I shouldn’t have done this behind the scenes, but I am the man who got your niece pregnant,” Patrick’s words suddenly shocked your Uncle, so shocked that it was even difficult to digest everything.
“Y/N... is that true?"
You inhale and exhale. You find this situation very difficult to digest. “Yes, Uncle Andrew. He is the father of my child.”
Patrick smiled at you. But you can see that he feels guilty for all this. He didn’t know that all this time there was a woman who was pregnant with his child but he wasn’t there.
Your uncle turned to Patrick then turned to you. He massaged his forehead, then exhaled. “Okay, I’ll give you some time. Please...” said your uncle while patting Patrick on the shoulder.
You got up from your seat when Patrick had closed the door to the room. The two of you face each other and stand now.
“I’m sorry..”
“No, this is not your fault. We were strangers having a one night stand. I understand, this is not your responsibility, please don't feel that you have to do all this. I could have aborted the pregnancy from day one, but—"
“But you don’t have the heart to do that. You have a very kind heart to raise the child of someone you don’t know. And regarding responsibility, I have full responsibility for my child.” Patrick said in a firm voice. He sighed, then walked over to you.
“You thought I didn’t see you from far away, right?”Patrick took both of your hands and held them, “the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the person I slept with that night. And I had a strong feeling that the child you were carrying was mine.”
“Y/N... thank you…” Patrick said in a very low tone. His blue eyes looked very happy, “I’m the happiest man in this world…. the most important thing of all is, I want to really get to know the mother who is carrying my child.”
97 notes · View notes
bots-and-cons · 11 months
Note
scenario request for tfp!soundwave and a human!s/o!
s/o is trying to get soundwave to take a break from his busy work by trying to figure out if he has any hobbies they can do instead
(and if he doesn't, then s/o tries to introduce some human pastimes to him!)
I do like this idea, but Idk if I wrote it very well, because I'm not really putting much effort into this unfortunately. Tbh, I have no interest in writing atm. It's not just for this request or for this blog, I just don't feel like writing anything, I have no inspiration or motivation. I really wanted to get this out though. I was initially planning to do a scenario for this, but I couldn’t put it together coherently, so HCs it is, sorry
•Soundwave doesn’t have anything he’d count as a hobby, nor does he really have time for things like that
•Because I don’t think digital identity theft really counts, even if he does it for fun
•When you one day ask him if he has any hobbies, he thinks about it for a moment before just shaking his helm and turning his attention back to his work
•You decide he needs a hobby so you  start asking him what kind of hobbies he might be interested in
•You know he likes music so maybe something to do with that?
•You show him a few apps he could use to make music, but it turns out he’s more into listening to it than making it himself
•Then you think about something that might be a bit out there for him, but you still think it’s a good idea anyway
•You suggest gardening to him, he doesn’t really have a good idea of what that includes, but he agrees that he can try it
•It’s just something to do with plants, right? That couldn’t be too difficult, right?
•You go to pick up some soil, tools, pots, seeds and flowers you can plant in a couple of bigger pots
•You drag it all to the Nemesis with Knockout’s help, since you had him take you to get them
•You take all the stuff to Soundwave’s habsuite and go get him to see what you brought
•You show Soundwave how to repot some of the flowers and urge him to try it too
•Soundwave just figures that if it makes you happy, he’ll do it, he didn’t expect to actually really like it
•You plant some tomato seeds and a lot of different flowers
•Soundwave finds the whole process relaxing and pretty nice
•His habsuite happens to be one of the only ones with a window, since it’s on the side of the Nemesis
•So he can keep the plants in front of the window so they can get sunlight
•He keeps a keen optic on the plants, and he takes very good care of them
•In a few months you get to eat some fresh tomatoes and he has a ton of plants everywhere
•He also got those sunlamp things for the plants that aren’t in the natural light all the time
•Who knows how he got them, probably has something to do with his little collection of stolen credit card numbers from his other “hobby” if you can even call it that
•Soundwave is really invested in watching the plants grow and blossom, and he finds taking care of them to be calming
160 notes · View notes
sciderman · 6 months
Note
This makes me wonder... What do you think of MCU Peter? Like the fact he basically gets all his stuff from Stark. Tbh I'm not a big comic reader but isn't the point that he's like,, poor and invents his own stuff...? I could be so wrong here but oh well, I'll ask
i think that yeah - it absolutely misses the point of peter parker being a working-class hero who's struggle is. the whole point.
i think a huge part of the problem with superhero media in general lately is that it's not really about heroism or hope anymore (something that previous spider-man movies deal with in spades) - superhero media nowadays is often kind of just wish fulfilment. you know. imagine if YOU were this powerful and rich! imagine if you, a dumb kid, got a BILLIONAIRE SUGAR DADDY who makes you a COOL SUIT and COOL TOYS!! it's the same case in the comics too, it's not about the cost of power or the questions it brings about your responsibility to the world - or even it being allegorical for anything (everything to me is allegory. but i can't even do that with the mcu because actually, everything in the mcu is kind of literal? there's nothing there to sink my teeth into. nothing i can interpret in any sort of different way other than, like, military propaganda and wish-fulfilment. i don't think they're even concerned with telling any sort of human story with most of these characters.)
the thing is with peter parker is that the whole point is that it's not wish-fulfilment. sure, it's freaking awesome to have super-strength and swing around the city and everyone wants that. but it always, always, always comes at a cost to him. and it doesn't solve any of his problems. everything is still difficult. money. romance. he's knocked off his feet by the common cold. he's just a guy. bad things happen to him and there's never an easy out. he doesn't just have fortified penthouses at his disposal, and high-tech suits, and wizards he can call to break the multiverse for him.
i think the frustrating thing with peter parker in the mcu is that they'll pay lip-service to it but not have it be part of peter's character at all. peter says jokingly "haha i'm broke" like we ever even SEE the impact of that on him like at all. the vulture says to peter "you're like me, we're just working class guys", as if peter showed any frustration or struggle at any point in that movie to justify that comparison. he doesn't have to work a job to pay his tuition at this elite science school. there's never a question of whether he can afford this trip to europe. his identity is blown and immediately he gets set up at a fancy maximum-security apartment with all the technology he needs at his disposal. there is never a second of struggle for him. there is not one moment where he doesn't have everything he needs, any time he needs it. his court cases are settled immediately over like, a three minute conversation with matt murdock. nothing touches him. he literally skates by with sheer dumb luck and having powerful contacts. what kind of stupid, boring-ass spider-man story is that.
raimi trilogy and tasm movies you were real. you get it. being spider-man does not make life easier. you just get to punch guys to feel better about it.
108 notes · View notes
teecupangel · 1 month
Note
Got another idea. XD Sorry! 💜
Do you know about Yuri on Ice? I loved the animation of the ice skating in the show and just imagine Desmond doing those graceful jumps is making me swoon like a maiden. XD
Could do a light AU where Desmond is scouted by a proffesional because he is so nimble shortly after running away from the farm or a full blown AU with Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton as professional ice skaters.
The light AU would be a bit difficult to pull off unless we make the trainer ex criminal or something, so that Abstergo couldn't try to grab Desmond immidiently when he starts competing. The trainer would assure him that whatever threat is out there he would protect him and it works until 2012. Abstergo probably got desperate enough to kidnapp Desmond, damn the publicity of a famous athlete going missing. The image of Desmond wielding the ice skates as knives is also both funny and badass. XD
Full blown AU could have Bill getting injured early on in his career and pushing(abusing) Desmond into becoming the star Bill was meant to be. Because athletes in general retire around their 30s, we can muck about with the ages so that Al Mualim, Haytham and Bill where skating around the same time and after Bill was forced to retire early, he decided to date and have a kid with another famous skater in the hopes that Desmond would be a prodigy(he is, but that is not enough for Bill).
Al Mualim, when he lost his eye in a duel skating rutine gone horrificly wrong(imagine a few years after Bill), decided to take on his old friend Umar's son as his personal trainee to live vicariously through.
Haytham is the only one of the 3 who retires of his own free will. He could discover that an intense, but short relationship he had with the skater Ziio resulted in a child and she saw how fiercly competetive and single minded Haytham was about the sport, so she decided to not tell Haytham about Ratonhnhaké:ton or more commonly known as Connor. Once Haytham discovers he has a son after Ziio dies(i imagine disease), he takes him in and tries to bond with him, to mixed results. Connor decides to follow in both his parents footsteps, to honor his mother and because it seems to be the best way to bond with his father. I imagine some light angst about Haytham pushing Connor because that was how he was raised after his father died early on, but eventually Haytham learns to just be proud of his son. 🥰
Ezio is the fan favorite with his devilish charms and outrages antics with his older brother, gossip magazines love them because Ezio loves to tease and indulge the photographers in exchange for most of them leaving his family alone. The Auditores are not an ice skating family, Ezio is just really talented and does it for the love of the sport, so he is pretty chill about competing. He is feared for his jumps though. VERY feared. XD
This could be Altdes or Ezides(because i'm traaaash! XD) where Desmond growing closer to the love interest lets him discover what true love and family is meant to be. Tbh think Ezio is the most fitting if we do that route, because let's face it: out if every goddamned assassin i know of, he is the only one with a good family/upbringing until the hanging. Fucking Disney mom syndrom over here. XD
Btw, i have no idea about ice skating and it's been years since i watched Yuri on Ice, so i am sorry if any details here is wildy inaccurate or impossible. ^^ And sorry for the text wall, got carried away. Again. XD Love ya! 💜
I love Yuri on Ice and I’m still waiting for that movie lol.
If you don’t want to choose between AltDes and EziDes, go with both? XD
But in all seriousness, EziDes would be more on the side of fluff and Desmond slowly becoming part of the Auditore family and learning what it means to have an actual loving family. Ezio would be the kind of person who would show Desmond the world beyond the small confines of being William Miles’ successor and he’ll learn to be interested in other things.
AltDes, though, considering the setup we have here, would focus heavily on the distorted mirror image they both share. Altaïr would be the son William Miles wanted to raise in Desmond’s eyes and Desmond would be the type of person he would have become had he not rose to all of Al Mualim’s expectation in Altaïr’s eyes. This is less of a found family kind of thing but more on the side of “I am jealous of you but I also can’t help but worry about you” kind of thing because they both have an idea of the loneliness and suffering they are hiding.
So yeah, it really depends on what kind of story you want to go for. Fluff for EziDes, angst for AltDes XD
Also… maybe in some ways, EziDes is about Ezio saving Desmond while AltDes is about the two of them saving each other.
Regardless of which path we take, Ezio’s relationship with Desmond would be about ‘learning of the outside world’ kind of deal and having an actual healthy support system who cares and love him. Desmond’s relationship with Altaïr would be more on the side of finding someone so similar to one’s self that caring and loving them (either platonically or romantically) is a way for one to care and love themselves.
Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, is that kind friend who serves as Desmond’s own foil thanks to his relationship with his own father. But, unlike Altaïr, their friendship is less burdened because Ratonhnhaké:ton actually knows what he wants and Haytham is trying. Their father-son relationship is actually what makes Desmond realize that, shit, his own relationship with his father is fucked up.
Ezio told him that too but Desmond can’t really wrap his head around it because Giovanni act really different from Bill that he can’t really compare them but Haytham? Haytham definitely acts a lot like Bill. And then he meets Al Mualim who acts a lot like Bill as well (it’s the other way around, Bill is trying to copy Al Mualim since he was more successful than Bill). So yeah, Haytham shows Desmond (and Altaïr) that a father can fuck up but make up for it as well.
Also, regardless of the pairing, the four of them would have a close bond with one another with the not-love interest and Ratonhnhaké:ton having front row seat to whatever shenanigans are happening between Desmond and his love interest.
(Sidebar: Kadar is absolutely Altaïr’s Number One Fan. Malik is absolutely embarrassed because he’s actually competing in the same competition and everyone who knows Kadar is his brother pities him because his own brother is cheering a different contestant. Kadar also skates and he can actually copy Altaïr’s performances. Ask him to perform his own and he blanks out though)
Love you too💜 and never apologize for text walls. I love reading them hahahaha
34 notes · View notes