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the-blind-bard · 1 month

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Parasite Shigaraki x Reader Pt. 2

|Part 1 | Part 3 (Soon) | Masterlist |

Synopsis: [Strangers/Lovers, Smut, Loser!Obsessive! Shigaraki] - |Shigaraki x Reader| Your family called your quirk "parasite", able to feed off of someone's quirk and make it temporarily your own. Luckily, the only other person on the subway happens to have the most powerful quirk you've ever seen and zero experience with women.

Content: MDNI, stalking, voyeurism, mention of masturbation, mutual obsession, reader has a quirk, submissive Shigaraki

You hadn’t heard from him at all.

Nights were spent pacing around your shitty excuse of an apartment, bitter curses leaving your lips and hands itching to destroy everything around you.

You were irreparably mad that your lust for power must have -understandably- scared him off.

For fucks sake, (Y/n). You killed a guy in front of him.

That might have been the most impulsive thing you’d ever done.

If only you had stuck to the friendly and cute act, not showing him the power-hungry monster that lives beneath your skin.

He would have been so easy.

You could tell the minute you touched him that he would do anything you asked, clumsy and blushing.

You were sure if you hadn’t scared him but instead had just pressed your lips to his and let your fingers pull his hair like pretty, blue ribbons, he would have been yours.

He was meant to be yours.

You could have both built him up and broken him down.

And now you sit in the silence of knowing what could have been.

What you could have been.

It threw you into a fit of rage at first.

When a couple of days had passed without a single text or call, you thought surely you might run into him again on the subway.

Nothing.

You got more and more desperate.

Taking long walks that were way out of your way, hoping to find out which direction he lived in.

You were trying so hard to push down the obsession of finding Shigaraki, but every time you remembered the feeling of absolute destruction on the tips of your fingers, you took another hour-long detour home.

It had been a little over a week when you noticed it.

You were walking home from work, feet sore and not looking forward to the purgatory state of being on that subway. Today you were wondering if you should once again try to take some random stops home and seek Shigaraki out, but you were too tired for that today.

Good thing.

It had been another particularly bad day, leaving you with depths of unresolvable anger and an itch in your blood.

But things weren’t all bad.

At least now you were comforted by the gentle footsteps lingering in the shadows behind you.

Leaving work, you noticed the feeling of eyes lurking in dark spaces.

Red.

Like you were being watched by a starved animal.

Flashes of blue.

Poor shy, pretty boy.

You were so sure he would either get on the subway and sit by you or he would approach you on the street, feigning coincidence.

When you reached the subway, you weren’t so sure anymore.

You walked slowly to the subway stop, hands retreating from the cold and into your pockets.

You could hear the softest patter of feet behind you.

How cute.

The destructive little street cat wasn’t aware that he was chasing a panther.

And you let him think he was getting away with it too.

You did for a couple of days, playing the role of the ignorant airhead, acting entirely unaware of the rapid increase in time he spent “with” you.

Throughout the day and night, footsteps always echo from not too far behind you.

You let him believe he had the power.

You wanted him to get hooked to you like you were the memory of his quirk, unable to chase after anything else.

When there were a couple of consecutive days where you were sure he’d been following you from morning till deep in the night, you decided he was ready.

Leaving work, Shigaraki was there.

Walking home, Shigaraki was there.

Dead of the night, purposefully leaving your bedroom curtain cracked open, Shigaraki was there.

Leaving for work in the morning?

Depends.

Looks like even he had limits on how persistent he could be. It made you wonder what else he did throughout his days.

What was he sacrificing in his daily life as he spent his time muffling whines in his throat as he peeked through your windows?

On this day, though, he was there. His footsteps were a little more reckless. Sleep-deprived and dazed by you, he was far from stealthy.

At this point in allowing him to follow you, Shigaraki is over-confident.

He thought his girl needed him now more than ever. If she was too stupid to notice someone following her for this long, what would she do without him ever again? He couldn’t trust you to walk home alone.

Not after that pretty but reckless mouth almost had that guy and his friends come at you like that.

Tomura wasn’t sure of the extent of your quirk, but he hadn’t seen you use a quirk at all since that night. He was so sure now that you needed him as much as he needed to feel your hands caress his face again. Fuck, touch anywhere. He just needs you-

Tomura’s lethal confidence.

He seemed to be a little bit bolder than you gave him credit for and it was obvious to you that he wasn’t as innocent either. You’d still grant him shy, but hearing him fail to stifle those pretty noises at night derailed some notions of innocence.

No, you decided Tomura Shigaraki must be a closeted freak, perverted and nasty in the privacy of his mind and wherever he called home.

That, you could certainly work with to your advantage.

It was a little warmer today than usual, a murky and humid heat.

Even the slight chill of the night did little to stop the sticky feeling of sweat on your skin.

You dressed appropriately, clothes a little bit more revealing than usual.

To anyone else, you were just a normal person dressing for the weather.

But to the footsteps behind you, Tomura couldn’t decide if he loved the feeling of seeing you like this more than how disgusted he was when anyone else looked at you.

You could hear every step of his, smiling to yourself.

You were near the part of the street where Shigaraki would stay hidden and watch -waiting to make sure you got on the subway- when you suddenly stopped walking.

Your back was turned to him, but your smile never faltered. This was a drastic risk to take, but you had to do something.

“Would you like to walk with me instead of taking the subway today?”

You didn’t turn around, not wanting to startle the lurking man with sudden movement. For a while, you didn’t hear any response aside from the initial gasp at your question and the approaching sound of nails scratching angry skin.

A shadow was cast on the pavement from right beside you. Illuminated by the glowing street light, his shadow loomed over yours.

Turning your head to him with a sweet smile, you could see the wild look in his eyes, fingers tearing at his skin with his other hand clutched in the pocket of his hoodie.

Feral.

“Thank you, Shigaraki.” You started back on your course of walking.

It was odd.

The two of you had been walking for a decent amount of time and no one made a move towards speaking. You tried to read his body language, but you were too worried about enacting his need to run.

Meanwhile, he didn’t see anything wrong with the silence at all. He was reveling in your presence.

He was bitter about you finding him out, wondering how long you’d known, but he couldn’t find it in him to care now that you asked for him to walk next to you. God, he missed the smell of you.

To be able to see every detail of you up close.

This beats fogging up the window of your room, hand traveling dangerously low as he tries to justify the disgusting way your name leaves his lips in a pathetic prayer for mercy.

How sweet and peaceful you looked, blissfully sleeping.

His angel.

Surely angels were forgiving, right?

You could forgive him as he relentlessly fucks into his own fist, brought to euphoria just by seeing you and remembering what your hand felt like on his skin.

“Join the league,” he mumbled to you so lowly your brows scrunched in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You kept walking, leaning in towards him to hear better.

His breath hitched slightly. Every inch closer you were to him the more alive he felt.

“League of Villians. I saw you dust that fuckin’ guy the other day. But you’re not shit on your own, so you’d be a dumbass to not join us.” Perfect. Tomura was sure those words perfectly reflected that he simply wants you to come live with him, help him take over the world, fuck him stupid…

You were stunned by how boldly he spoke. This wasn’t the same whimpering man that sticks to shadows. Seems like when Shigaraki wasn’t needy, he was rude.

Is it bad that it kind of excited you? That you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh in the middle of a summer night? That you like how unpredictable he’s proving to be?

You like how he has the potential to be destruction embodied and maybe you can pave a path to being the only thing he wants to keep whole and to himself?

Hm. But he was proving unpredictable.

League of Villians? Who the fuck is this guy?

Looks like you might have to be careful to not get attached to the boy more than the power.

Was this a joke? No way he could be this fucking perfect.

“Villian, huh?” You smirked at him. “That’s why you’ve been my personal shadow lately? They have you on recruitment?”

Shigaraku scoffed, but his heart picked up pace, anxiety prickling at being called out for following you.

“I’m not some idiot lackey, side character. I’m the leader of the league. I also just had to make sure you weren’t some crazy bitch after being stupid enough to kill a guy in front of two witnesses and a stranger and not finish off everyone else.”

Fair enough. That wasn’t your brightest moment, but you could hardly be blamed for that when you were running off of the adrenaline of meeting someone like Tomura Shigaraki.

“I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Shigaraki felt his heart physically pound, throbbing. Was this a fucking heart attack? God, you were going to kill him.

You were holding back for him? Why the fuck did you care about a stranger like that? He’d never.

It was all for him. You’re all for him. You’re his.

“Whatever.” Shigaraki shrugged, but the blush creeping up his pale skin told you enough.

Shigaraki tried to instinctively curl in on himself in flustered embarrassment. His shoulders were hunched forward, hands in his pockets, and his hair shielded his face from your view.

You reveled in knowing all of his attitude was just a front.

Carefully, you moved a hand towards him to tuck some of those loose, blue strands behind his ear.

When his face was exposed to you once more, his eyes were blown wide, looking at you. You were the only person to ever reach out and touch him so boldly, and he thought there couldn’t be a sweeter feeling in this world.

He couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. Anything would come out as an embarrassing noise or he might not be able to stop himself from simply begging you to touch him again.

Anywhere.

However you’d like.

A deep content flooded your chest like the warmth of an ignited fire.

“Are there more members of this league?”

He nods. You hum, pretending to weigh a decision you’d already made.

“Take me there.”

Who was he to not follow a command from you? His feet set forward on the familiar path to the decrepit bar he called home and headquarters.

tag list: @milolooooong @shiggysgf890 @raccoonc0re @faithyinnitt @nymeriiiia @koreluvsspring @fudo-aki @tomura-complex @lovelylyana07 @chxrrybobaby-sin @confused-smol-fan

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shiragaki

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simpcityy · 2 months

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My Little Spawn Pt.1 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.

Everything was dark and blurry in his eyes. All he remembers was stalking in the shadows looking for his next prey and suddenly he was kidnapped. He felt mixed emotions, fear but importantly joy, he was finally away from Cazador. It would be like he suddenly disappeared in thin air and Cazador will need him no more. Until he was stuck with another burden, You. “Would you keep quiet, dammit!?” He whispered rather loudly. You stopped shifting around the tall grass and peaked out of it. “I’m sorry” You whispered before going back to hiding. He looked over seeing two people walking by, “Perfect” He mutters and gets ready to put on his performance.

After almost getting incinerated, you and Astarion have found a group and camp for the remainder of the period till the little wiggly worm is out of your mind but of course, you wouldn’t comprehend, for you were so young.

“Who’s the little adorable bugger?” Gale smiles letting you try to read the books he has found so far. “For the record this annoying little sp-human is not mine, they just seem to be attached to me.” Astarion watches you trying to pronounce the big words only to butcher them. “But it’s getting rather late and I hate to deal with a cranky annoying child tomorrow.” He picked you up keeping his arms outstretched and walked to his tent. Once everyone was out of earshot, he squats at your height. “Listen here, you must not tell anyone what we are understood?” His red eyes look down at your innocent (E/C) ones. “But why not?” You sat on top of the pillow looking up at Astarion seeing him take a deep breath in. Of course, Astarion knows he has to make it simple. “Because we are playing a game” He grins “ We are all hiding our identity. You and I are a team and the rest are a team. Whoever is the first one to discover their real identity, is the sore loser.” He gives a smile sitting down next to you. You pouted, your cheeks puffed up “We will win, okay! I won’t tell.” You lean back before yawning “ If they ask what do I say?” You cute little doe eyes look at him tiredly. “Hmm…we are just normal elves got it?” He looks away in deep thought, “it’s for the best for now” He mutters before leaning back “ You know for a being the youngest Spawn he created…you still need rest like a human, you are such an odd little creature” He gently plays with the ends of your hair “ Why did he even turn you?” He whispers as you slowly slip into sleep. “What use does he even have for you?” He kept asking himself all the questions ever since you were part of the “Family”

You were the youngest spawn Cazador has ever gotten. You were only 5 soon turning 6. Astarion was first shocked to see Cazador holding you in his arms when he came back from bringing a pretty prey for his master. He never dared question, he kept all his unanswered questions to himself. Astarion felt anger towards you both. Why was Cazador more tender with you, not treating you like he does to his other spawns. Why did you get the special treatment? He was mostly angry towards Cazador as always, why did he turn you, you didn’t even reach your half way milestone of your life. You were going to stay that age and size forever. He has been treated like shit for 200 years but you, you would never experience the things a child should be, the things teenerages and young adults go through. Once again Cazador has robbed you of your life just how Astarion was robbed of his.

Morning rolled by, You picked up a little flower near Gale’s tent, “Astarion! Look what I found!” You ran up to him as he was getting ready to set foot on finding a healer with the others. “What is it this time?” He mutters looking up before seeing a flower being gently shoved to his face. “A flower.” You smile waiting for him to take it. “ A flower…you called my attention for a flower…this is why I don’t work with little annoying monsters.” He sighs already feeling annoyed from the lack of blood. “I’m sorry…” You whisper looking down, putting the flower away from his face, small tears forming in your doe eyes. He stops putting things into his bag and sighs “ Why must you be such a crybaby” He sits down pulling your tiny form on his lap, taking the flower. “Wow, thank you. I feel the luckiest person to get a flower from you.” He says in a bored voice looking at you. You sniff and rub your eyes, “You mean it?” The tears no longer present in your eyes. He looks at you unamused. “Yes, now shoo, I have to pack. Go bother Gale, Shadowheart or even Tav but not me got it?” He makes you get off his lap before freezing feeling you give him a light peck on his cheek “Okay! I’ll collect more flowers for the others!” You giggle before running off. He placed a hand over his cheek and watched the direction you left. “What an odd little spawn.” He whispers before continuing to pack.

You hummed a tune as you collected more flowers near Gale’s camp where Gale was sitting on the pillow, reading a book. He looks up hearing you hum. “Say (Y/n), that tune you must be from the upper city aren’t you?” He smiles placing the book down as your little feet shuffle over to him. “Mmhm! Papa would always sing me this lullaby at night!” You grin “It’s my favorite and he always wants me to sing! He says I’m his little singing bird!” Placing the flowers down, you sat on the ground in front of gale. Thinking back to what Astarion said last night, remembering to not give away too much information. “Judging by your clothes, I bet your father is a rather important man?” He smiles rubbing down those stubborn baby hairs that lift up from your hair. You only nodded “Papa is the best! I miss him and I want to go home…” You look around the wilderness that you and Astarion crashed in. “I want him to hold me close…I always dream of those monsters…and the little wormy” Whimpering you scoot into Gale’s arms. “I don’t want them to come back!” You tear up, “I want papa to hold me but he’s not here!” You wail. Gale quickly panics “Oh…crying child…what to do…wish Tara was here…” He mutters before rubbing your back “Hey now, you can always come to me, Shadowheart and even Tav if you ever have a nightmare. How about this, before you go to bed, I will tell you a story so you can dream of that story rather than the scary monsters. Trust me, I have read so many books, I know them by heart.” He grins as you finally stopped the water works. “Which is why he’s a walking library in this case.” Shadowheart smiles walking over “Now, we should get going, the closer we find a healer, the faster you can go to your papa” She smiles leaning to your height. “Really!” You smiled, your eyes widened at the thought of seeing your father soon. “Let’s go!” Grabbing the flowers, you ran to Astarion to share the news.

“Astarion!”

“What now!?”

Walking to find a healer seems like eternity to you, “I wanna rest!” You whined to Astarion tugging at his shirt. “Then complained to Tav, they are leading the damn group, not me.” He sighs, breathing in heavily to compose himself from lashing out. “Up! Up!” You lifted your arms. “The hell I won’t!” He walks faster only for you to follow him whining even more. The rest of the small group look over watching the two of you, seeing you bothering Astarion even more. “Is it me or do these two know each other very much?” Shadowheart watches you keep tugging on his shirt. “Yet he says he doesn’t know (Y/N), that they only tagged along with him.” Gale crossed his arms. Tav smiles “I don’t know, (Y/n) looks nothing like Astarion so I doubt they are related and (Y/N) always mentions a papa.” Shadowheart and Gale nodded. “What in the nine hells! Where did you go!?” Astarion looks around for you as you stop tugging on his shirt a while ago. “Where did they go?” Tav walks back to the pale elf. “ I don’t know, the moment they were annoying the hell out of me! Next thing I know, they are go- wait…” He smells it, blood. You must have run off to the smell. “ I…um…heard them, this way” He quickly follows the scent with the rest following.

You carefully walked down the ladder, the smell of blood getting stronger. Turning around a corner, you are met with a woman with red skin, burning and importantly with a broken horn. Slowly walking over to the tiefling, you look up at her “Are you okay?” You meekly whisper seeing how tall she was according to your height. She looks up hearing the childish voice, “Hells, what is a child doing all alone?” She looks at you shocked before feeling the tadpoles connect. “Fuck” Karlach whispers holding her head “You were also in that ship…” She whispers before calming herself down and kneels down to make it seem less intimidating to you. “Hey there little soldier, What are you doing all alone?” She smiles as you slowly take small steps towards her. “I…you’re hurt…are you okay?” You go to place your small hand on her but she backs away quickly. “Careful there, I’m not like any other tiefling, I can burn you.” She smiles “I'm Karlach, what’s your name, little soldier?” She chuckles admiring your little face as you try to say her name slowly. “Car…Ka…la…Karlach.” You finally get it right, before giving her your name, someone else beat you to it.

“(Y/N)!?” Tav runs over, crossing the log and quickly pulls you back from Karlach, putting you behind. “Get away from them” Tav frowns weapons out. “Are you okay?” Shadowheart checks you over for any injuries as Gale also checked along with her. Astarion catches up and lets out a small sigh seeing you alive and safe. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking running off like that?! A goblin could’ve gotten you or a wild animal?!” He looks down at you but stops himself seeing you tear up. “I-I’m sorry….don’t get mad like papa!” You cried. “Like papa….” He glares down at you. “Don’t ever compare me to him you litt-” He stops himself seeing the fear in your eyes. Him, being like Cazador. He would rather kill himself than be exactly like his old master. He sighs before kneeling to you as the others were busy with Karlach. “Sorry…I was…I guess you can say I was very worried…I know it wasn’t your intention to run off…” He then whispers “You must be hungry…for blood like me…I know you are craving that sweet and yet bitter flavor but you need to hold it in like I am…tonight we’ll find some small vermin okay?” He slowly pats your head as you nod. Standing up, he walks over to the rest as you follow closely to him. “My, I feel so much better knowing we have a strong wall to protect us from any arrows” He smirks after learning Karlach was recruited. “I like her! She’s nice!” You popped out from behind walking over to Karlach. “And I like you little soldier” She smiles.

After going back to camp for the day, Astarion watches as you listen to Gale’s stories. He sat from his tent looking at a book but his mind wandered back to what you said. Like papa…when has Cazador ever punished you? He thinks back but nothing comes to him. He turns the page to the book to make it look like he was reading. He looks back at you with that question still haunting his thoughts. It really ticked him off when you compared him to Cazador, he will never be like him…no he will be better. He wants to get back at him and back at him good. He smirks looking at you. Why not get him back with the thing he treasures the most, or rather the person he treasures the more.

You

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Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for reading this, please like, reblog and share it with others. I will be working on Part 2 soon hopefully. I also started another series a month ago or more about Astarion and a Gur! Reader. There is only part 1 out as well but I will be working out on that. Please remember to stay hydrated and to get some rest. Love you all! You are welcome to ask to be tagged as well for the next part.

-Axie

#father figure Astarion #astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fic #astarion fic #fatherfigure #dadstarion x child reader #dadstarion #tav #gale #shadowheart #Karlach #baldurs gate 3

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fancyfade · 15 days

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Honestly I do think of Cass's reading, and her initial desire and later refusal to try*, has a lot to do with her perfectionism and well... like "sore-loser-ness" (not saying that you're a loser if you can't read, but like. she perceives not being good at something as "losing" and she hates it).

in one of the really early Batgirl issues (#3? I can't remember?) we see Cass tries to save a man who writes a letter to his wife, and she starts trying to read and write after seeing how the man's wife was affected by his letter. Then it's kind of ditched for a while. Later, Cass and Babs have friction because Cass doesn't try to learn how to read and it makes Babs mad, and she belittles Cass in a moment of stress.

And like. For Cass, we see that a lot of fighting stuff (which she perceives as very important) comes naturally to her. Barbara spars with her with escrimas and Cass picks up on it in 5 minutes, just from the body language reading. Cass learns Shadow Thief's techniques while fighting him. She also values being perfect, being great right away. When she temporarily has lost her body-language reading, she asks Bruce how long it takes until she's as good as he is, re-training herself, and he says probably 10 years. She thinks David (her bio father who raised her as an assassin with no language) made her perfect in just 8, and there's the whole repeated quote - Perfect for a year, or mediocre for a lifetime? She chooses perfect for a year - agrees that she will fight Shiva to the death in one year after Shiva restores her skills, and intends that she will die then because she won't kill anyone else (and should note - she never does really doubt that she can beat Shiva, even though other characters do).

Anyway where I'm going with this:

We have Cass, and she's got to be perfect. That's her thing. She's great at picking up new fighting skills, she tries to learn how to talk but because her brain is literally wired differently it doesn't happen until the meta messes with her brain, then it happens overnight. Her re-gaining her skill is not something that emphasized as "she trains a lot" (though we do see her training a lot - it's not what causes it to be re-gained so quickly), it's the deal she makes with Shiva. When it comes to reading, this is probably the only thing that's been that she genuinely struggles with, a lot (due to how her brain was wired), that doesn't have a quick-fix. And Cass is a perfectionist so she is going to feel embarrassed when other people find it easy and she doesn't. the way she protects her feelings is by, once she fails, not trying again. If you don't try, you can't fail and you can't feel bad about it.

*for a while

#dc comics #cassandra cain #batgirl #batgirl 2000

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tarjapearce · 5 months

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Chapter 3: Innocent As A Lamb

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Emotional distress, mild comfort, angst, subtle hints of ptsd, more character background, confrontation, lies exposed, mild physical aggression, mentions of abortion,

Summary: Miguel isn't used to consequences.

Pt. 4

A/N: Finally got this down ❤️. Hope to live up to this jskjs.

We have to talk. Meet me at the parking lot.

The message had truly confused him, he wasn't one for texting, much less engaging into something so vain and boring like making acquaintances in work, unless they provided something substantial he could use in his favor. Had someone spread out his number again?

The thought made his lips morph into a smirk. Was this another crazed woman obsessed over him he didn't know about, even though some of the lab staff knew he was engaged?

Miguel wasn't immune to gossips, yet being the reason of one, was borderline amusing. It was rare when they managed to actually divert his attention to anything that wasn't work or Dana.

The latter however seemed more vexing and pestering than usual, he truly couldn't identify a culprit. But the ways of making up kept a smile on his face for long enough until the cycle repeated itself again.

Once married things would likely turn for the worse. Dana had been already increasing her control over him and viceversa. Always caught up in the neverending power play that somehow he ended up winning with flying colors. A sore loser and a bad winner.

Thrilling at first, but now everything but fun. Miffing in fact. And it showed in his eyes whenever she wasn't around but still, she managed to sour or dull his expression either via calls or messages.

He had been with her for long enough, but the benefits she offered were way too rewarding to let go. He knew what he represented in Dana's life.

A rich, hunk and trophy soon-to-be husband.

But as long as he was left unbothered while working or having her shut up, he didn't care. In fact, he flipped a finger on life long time ago and ever since none of his irreverence and cynism stopped.

He tossed the briefcase in the car and then hopped in, after confirming a dinner date, for the umpteenth time with her future bride and torment.

She loved getting under his skin, but he enjoyed enough in getting inside her to quiet her down enough to leave him alone. It was like sex was one of the only true reasons they remained together, no matter how much they disguised it as love. A long term lust that had sufficed them both enough to go by.

Cause in truth, love had been shoved to the back of the shelf and forgotten after the two year mark. Complacency takin it's place.

A new array of seasonings like jealousy, disrespect, cheating had joined the rack, casting a deep shadow over love, pushing it to the very end of the already malnourished emotional ledge.

Straying away from what had originally brought them together yet unable to let go. Yet again complacency had made both too cozy and lazy to expand their horizons in meeting new sort of people and shaping new bonds. Perpetuating the Chernobyl-like situation brewing between the both to a new level.

He never looked back. Always moving forward either the good or bad way, but moving. Not stopping for nothing and anyone, something he had learned from the least suspecting person in his life. His biological father. Tyler had showed him through actions, and not precisely in a healthy way. He had learned all that someone must never teach a man.

Liar, deceiver, manipulator, and so many more things that one would never believe if someone said 'Miguel O'Hara is a cheater.' Way too disingenuous to keep a remarkable reputation of a recluse and engaged genetic engineer.

But of course, there was a big chance someone had messaged him by accident. He blocked the number a couple of minutes later after receiving it.

He drove away.

"Pregnant?"

MJ's stonishment was upsetting. Not because you hadn't told her, but rather the circumstances the life changing event were conceived.

Her face paraded with so many emotions since it was hard to not feel something wrong about it, and the whole fiasco screamed and thrashed with all sorts of wrongness.

But even so, the absence of a judging stare made your senses to relax a bit, even if you were sprawled in your bed and her hands caressed your hair in a measly attempt to soothe your frying nerves. Her motherly antics paid off for a bit.

"He knows, right?"

Your silence earned a blasé sigh from the redhead.

"How is he going to know he fucked up if you don't tell him!?"

"It's not as simple as you think, MJ. He's sneaky. I sent him a text message, and surprise, he blocked the number."

Mary Jane blinked a couple of times, processing your mumblings.

"My goodness what a dick!."

"He is. Just... I'll tell him."

"Do you think he's gonna-"

"Tell me to fuck off?. That's for sure. If anything, I've already taken a choice."

"And, are you sure of it?"

With a shaky breath you sat on the bed, facing your best friend. A script writer and part of a theatrical troupe. You had met her after going on a date with a guy that was obsessed over the company's plays.

And most importantly, a mother of a one year old you had scarcely seen and met, just like her husband. Two times to be precise. In her wedding and MJ's baby shower. But her baby, a lovely girl called Mayday was always present in her phone's gallery.

"I am sure. I... I'm so not ready for this." You bit your inner cheek briefly, "I don't wanna be a mom. Much less knowing that my hypothetical child would be the next Cain."

MJ shot a confused look your way.

"You know, God punished him with a permanent mark on his forehead so none would kill him."

"Right" her ginger brow raised at your words

"But it was his way of punishing him by letting everyone know what he had done." You gestured with flailing hands in the air, "In few words, I'm sparing the child a really fucked up talk on how I met their sperm donnor."

MJ casted her eyes away, she knew things were messed up as they were, even though her mind wandered towards a curious yet forbidden territory of wondering how you'd look with a pregnant belly, she knew things just didn't work like that.

Maternity in most of the cases arrived in unexpected ways, yet, not everyone embraced it with open arms and happy tears. You had been already so brave to see the news through, even though your brain still needed to catch up with them.

MJ held your hand and pulled you closer to her. All of the people you could confide in was her. Out of everyone, she knew better than anyone what was like to be a mother. She'd call you in the verge of tears sometimes saying how much she wanted to call it quits. Empathy was one of best traits.

"No matter what you choose, I'm sure it'll be for the best. And if you want me to be there for you, I will."

"I know, thank. I... don't even wanna tell him, cause what use would be? I'm sure he doesn't even remembers-"

"Still, you must tell him. He owes you an explanation."

"Doubt he's happy or even cooperating in giving one."

Your hand was squeezed gently. There wasn't much that needed to be said, terrifying as it was the confrontation was a must. Mostly for your own closure, you needed that chapter in your life over once and for all and if it meant to look up for a new job, away from him and the mess, then so be it.

Dread.

The bravado you had mustered a week ago was now dead, leaving a strong trepidation in its place.

In your mind, the conversation had been replayed over and over you had even learned the possible outcomes in the answer and neither of them was good or comforting.

Nauseous stomach and Bambi-like legs walked you over your work spot. Like a cage, with tiny space in between it's bars, allowing little to no room for you to try and escape.

Your body could, but the mind had already sentenced itself for a long time, imprisoned with the same thoughts over again. Miguel was your cage, and you weren't that sure you'd ever be free.

A tiny part of your reasoning cheered you to seek freedom by telling him.

The truth will set us free

Of course, but it always came with a price, and maybe you didn't have enough to pay it.

As the day marched through the eight hour's end, your thoughts gravitated with anger. Be it the hormones changing, or the constant voice telling you to confront him, brought back a little bravado you thought dead. You had asked for permission to be let go an hour earlier to intercept him.

And this time there was no escape. No more cold shoulders, no more waiting, even if your body wasn't listening to you and definitely no more niceties.

Taking your purse and the proofs of your condition in your hand, you marched towards the parking lot. Ready for a battle you were sure was lost before it started. A Leonidas versus Xerxes.

You waited in one of the benches scattered around the place, eyes trained to the exit door. Waiting felt like forever and being pregnant surely made it worse. It was like pregnancy granted you the power to slow time, but instead of being a blessing, it was proving to be a nuisance.

But there he was, parading himself with a belittling swag as he moved through the other workers. Face blasé, jaw tightened and fist clenching tightly at a little leather folder he had smothered in his large hand.

He pulled out his keys, and deactivated the car's alarm.

You stood. Heart beating a mile per second, breathings deep and shaky, just as your steps towards him. You could run away and hide, spare him the truth and the already brewing verbal assault you were unprepared to take part in. Spare him and you the immediate disgust.

But you weren't God to forgive.

A deep exhale was taken before approaching him carefully while he fumbled with the keys on his hand. Your narrowing steps alerted him, and your shape came into view in his window's reflection.

He turned and for a second, you wished he didn't.

Deep rusty brown eyes stared at you, after recognizing your face, anger in them betraying his unbothered demeanor. The keys stopped tinkering as they were scrunched up in his fist.

"What do you want?"

You frowned, he glared. An iceberg was warmer than his own voice.

"We need to talk."

Plump lips twitched into a scowl on his frightening face.

"We've got nothing to talk about. Everything's pretty fucking clear between us. Or do you want me to spell it for you?"

"Is it really hard for you to stop being an idiot?"

A derisive 'tsk' from him while you narrowed your eyes into a glare. As he turned to face you, his arms crossed his chest, enlarging him even more, but you didn't coward. Anger rivaled your politeness, but every word that came off him made the ire tab to go skyrocketing.

"Amuse me, then."

He gestured with a hand towards you, inviting and mocking to then going back to their original position. Your lips trembled as you spoke.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyelids drooped lazily, clearly unamused yet still you had managed to pull out a genuine laugh off him.

"Dios mío..." He raked a hand over his head, shoulders shaking in little laughter, even though it all was stemmed out of an underlying doubt and rising anxiety.

"If you want money to keep it quiet, just say it."

"God, just when I think you can't go lower, here you are proving me wrong." Your anger spoke for you and he had to hold back a snort, "I don't want your money, or anything that comes from you."

The irrefutable proofs of that night, printed on those pages were shoved into his hands.

"What is this?" His voice skeptical and subtly alarmed as the clinic's logo came into his vision.

"Consequences. Care to explain how on earth that happened?"

His eyes scanned the paper, laughter and derision slowly dying the further he read on. His eyes narrowed at a certain part of the information. 9 weeks.

"So?"

His eyes glared at you to then go back to the paper and the ultrasound pictures. A little bean-like creature was growing within. A creature that had part of his DNA, forming itself with each passing day, enclosed in a comfy looking cocoon.

No.

His hands grope the paper so tight it had crumpled mercilessly under his snapping fingers. His body had turned frigid, paralized with a crashing and burning numbness spreading through his limbs. Muscles on his extensive and mountainous shoulders contracted in such rigidness, he looked liked he'd break and snap at any second.

No. No. No.

Yet they rose erratically, matching his breathings. A hand was able to let go from the paper, only to rake through his hair once more, as if trying to scruff out the chaotic thoughts. He kept looking between you and the paper.

"This..." He gulped, tasting his own words. In truth he had already forgotten about that night, but for you to return with such news was the cherry on top of a shitty day.

"Amused enough?"

"Get rid of it."

He pushed the paper back in to your hands while seething, the mere touch of them burning his skin. A biting and bitter laugh came out of your lips as your eyes glistened.

"What?"

"Get rid of it. You don't want it, neither do I. Why keeping it?"

"How. That. Happened?"

Your tone was everything but friendly, yet you were restraining in giving a piece of your mind. But his hand reached for your arm and pulled you, more like dragged you to a more secluded space, away from prying eyes.

"Let me go!" With a shove and a slap away of his hand, you freed yourself.

With a deep breath, a hulking figure loomed over you with a glare. How dared you in hindering his plans?

"Listen to me very carefully, if you tell anyone about this-"

"Are you seriously threatening me?"

"You don't understand." Venom and vitriol spilled through clenched teeth. His hands were trying to decide which place was better to anchor itself from, clenching them only fueled his anger, and pacing around wasn't helping either.

"You are the one that seems to not be understanding. I'm not asking, I want to know how this happened, Miguel!"

That was definitely a way he hated hearing his name. So full of anger and demand. Just like Dana.

"It's your fault." He couldn't help but muster, more to himself than to you, "How... How couldn't you notice this?" Voice betraying the grittiness in his demeanor for a second.

"My fault?!" glossy eyes in anger widened as he kept spilling his accusations. "Must I remind you what happened that night? We fucked. In bathroom stall."

"For all I know that... thing isn't even mine, and you just-"

"Just what?! Try to put the blame on you?! Bold of you to think I have the time in whoring around like you do!"

His nose flared, relieving the brewing and piping hot steam.

"You can't... you can't do this to me, I can't do this." His hands clenched in his lab coat pockets. Then they rubbed his face.

"You think this is easy for me?!"

"I have a career."

He seethed and you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. His eyes followed you, settled to make an intimidating tactic you seemed temporsr immune to.

"So do I."

He scoffed at your words while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No you don't. Not like I do."

"I'm not even asking you for anything but the truth. What happened? You're the only person I've hooked up with."

"Yeah, could fucking tell." He took a little check book and scribbled some things on it. Then put it right next to you, in the car's hood.

"I don't know how much you'll need, but get rid of it. The sooner, the better."

You heart stopped for a second as a flurry of emotions crossed your face.

You weren't one for fearing or hating monsters, but this one before you, made you shiver and recoil with something so damn familiar it instantly got you lunging for him, ready to make for his face.

He caught your hand before you could actually slap him with the freshly written check. Grip tightening, yet you were too angry and hormonal to care about the pain. Hot and angry tears were no match for his careless and cold stare. He seized you once more before letting you go, nearly shoving you out of his way.

He wasn't moved by your silent crying, either angry or sad, he just watched you with a gaze that would be translated into an 'Are you done?'

You weren't. But defeat had been pulling out all trace of energy that remained on you. No matter how many times you asked, he avoided the question and he just proved he didn't have any intentions of giving you one, or anything of the sort.

He clearly didn't want anything to do with you or the child accidentally conceived.

"What are you doing, Miguel?"

But he knew what happened. The condom had broke, expiration date had been one of the reasons it ripped. He knew he had to change it. But his mind was on the tip of his dick. Awaiting to attack your snug insides again.

Wiping the little dignity you had in your eyes, your shaking hands were about to reach for the papers on the floor when you saw a pair of cream colored heels, that carried the beautiful woman you were dying to set free from the maws of lying and cheating monster.

Dana's perturbed voice echoed through the open space and then evolved into an acute ringing in your ears, muffling her voice for a minute before you rushed to the nearest trash bin to empty the bile that had rose during the fight.

A clear Stop it, from your body.

Both Dana and Miguel watched you, doubling over the bin and holding your hair to prevent a further mess. Incredulity and horror struck them both. Miguel specially.

Stress made the sensations and pregnancy affairs a hundred times worse.

"Dana..." Miguel warned, but his fiancé was way too gone into staring you retch, recognizing a little piece of what had been happening. She had arrived when Miguel was writing you the check hearing more than enough.

"Let's go home, corazón."

Miguel spoke but Dana's eyes darted to the papers on the floor along the written check. Legs moving to where they were and picked them up.

Ultrasound pictures, some medical prescriptions and the most important thing, your diagnose. After this weekend passed, you'd be turning ten weeks.

You were too busy to notice the brunette's hand trembling and covering her mouth as she kept on reading.

"Dana-"

The click of her heels and firm slap echoed through, making your attention to go back to them. Miguel was looking to the floor, a flushed cheek with his fiancé's hand, and the woman herself looking like she was about to commit murder and he the next victim.

"Liar!"

You could only look away at the raw and ugly pain behind those words. He had fooled her enough. Dana did what you couldn't, a tiny solace to your bleeding soul.

"How could you?!" A quiet sob before the brunette turned to you, air trapped in your lungs as she prowled over you. Cheeks ready to receive the impact, but this never came, at least not right away.

"Dana, wait!"

"You whore!" Miguel grabbed her last second but she only thrashed in his arms, struggling to let go, trying with all her might in freeing herself from the monster's claws.

"I didn't know he was engaged! I'm sorry!"

Words kept flowing between broken sobs and sour mouth. Miguel looked like considering letting her go so you could have a taste from her wrath, but seeing you ready to take the hit made the urge to go away, infuriating him even more.

So righteous.

"Don't bullshit me, you slut!"

"He wasn't wearing a ring when I met him! How was I supposed to know?!"

That phrase alone made Dana to remain still. Her heart visibly breaking in tiny shards, so small they could be blown away with the wind. Fat tears rolled down her trembling cheeks. Miguel could glare even more to you if possible. He didn't know what pissed him the most that you were ready to face the consequences or the fact that you were spilling everything out.

"H-He wasn't?"

If the circumstances were different, you'd wrap her arms around her to prevent her breaking even more. But the only thing you managed to do was to admit everything. Sacrificial lamb ready to be slaughtered, unafraid of death.

"He wasn't."

As Miguel lowered his grip Dana came for you, holding you by the lapels of your blazer. Her dainty fingers wrinkling the fabric impossibly tight under her grip. Some of her nails dug on your skin. She trembled, eyes unwavering over your steadfast ones.

"I'm so sorry... If I had known that... he was engaged I would never have approached."

"For how long have you been doing this? Answer me!"

She pleaded. Unlike Miguel, you were providing with answers that only put the remains of her broken and stepped on heart on a shredder, but the more you talked, the more the weight on them was lifted off your shoulders.

"It was one time-"

"Where?"

"In... in the Alchemax Retirement party. I'm so sorry, miss, I had no i-"

Your words were cut short by another slap. She sting spreading through your right cheek.

"Get out of my sight" Dana shoved the papers back into your hands and pushed you away from her, "Get out!".

Your legs scrambled you away, you could hear a metallic sound clinking on the floor, Dana had removed her ring and threw it at Miguel, only to bounce off the floor. Miguel could only watch the expensive relic getting soiled at his feet.

"Say something!"

She wasn't ordering, but pleading to have answers. You knew she'd get none, since you didn't have yours.

Car keys fumbled in your hands, you needed to get out before anything else happened. Miguel’s eyes burning into you, they stalked your every movements and expressions.

But you had laid bare before the both and took the punishment like a champ. The car's engine purred, drowning out the sound out. You could see Dana speaking in an accusing manner as Miguel tried to get a hold on her. As much as you were a homewrecker now, you could sleep a little better knowing that you had saved her from getting married to a man like Miguel.

The latter proved to be cornered, but he didn't lash out. And that only sent a new wave of anxiety to wash over you. What he was planning? The check was scrounged up like your medical data.

His penmanship a tad sloppy, but the traces looked almost like he was intending to tear through the paper. You drove off, watching them both from aside. Miguel's eyes locked with yours once more.

You stared at danger itself in the face, but you weren't afraid anymore.

You drove away. Forced to escape the aftermath.

MJ held your hand as you both made your way inside a bigger center, shielding you away from some religious protesters outside the building.

Just as your words had forseen, his reaction had only made your previous resolution to ground even more.

Mind set in getting your old life back. Even if it was dull, boring and full of so many average moments, you wanted it back.

You wanted to go out drinking, dance till your feet hurt, instead of hurting for the many times you went to the bathroom. You needed to feel normal, annoyed even whenever your boss caught you slacking for something you could control and not because a pregnancy.

But more importantly, you wanted to feel normal again. The same as usual, underpaid receptionist that was another worker in a big multinational company.

Not an underpaid, used, threatened and pregnant with the child of an engaged man that had done nothing but test your patience. This wasn't in your job's description.

And pretty sure, the woman next to you in the women's center wasn't made for comforting either. She cursed at her unborn child in between ugly sobs, saying how much she wished to never have appeared back in that house, wherever it was, to whoever it belonged.

A stark contrast to the woman right before you, looking at her ultrasound images with such joy you'd never had the chance to understand nor wanted to. Too exhausted with your own thoughts to make some Instrospection on your heart's opinion. MJ sat next to you, her warm and soothing hands never left yours.

Half of the room felt red, warm, homey and full of proud future mother's that without a doubt would give their children whatever they deserved. They smiled and shared their stories among eachother, like if they had just won over the lottery. Some even went to the extent of be ecstatic upon each other's ultrasound picture.

And you sat on the blue side. Mothers that didn't want their child over so many different vicissitudes.

Some unable to carry on the pregnancy due the lack of a decent living place, homelessness, Some too young to be there, yet old enough to go under the scrutiny of a doctor to confirm what they already knew. Others with a faulty body that would be nothing but trouble, it was rare the woman that came in like nothing had happened, ready to resume their old lives, unbothered and emotionally unscathed.

"How much do I must wait to get rid of it?"

The blasé voice murmured behind you, unknowingly of the damage that had resurfaced in your memories, just like Miguel's words.

Get rid of it.

Get rid of her.

It was one of the few phrases the woman that gave birth to you, engraved in your childish brain as she was contained by the turn's lover, avoiding the imminent physical damage to fall upon you.

But what to do, when the most hineous form of impairment had already wounded you?. Crippling you to this very day. It didn't help the foster homes you were taken to after, followed a likely pattern.

Unstable, erratic, hot and cold and so confusing, blurring and tarnishing parenthood's concept too much to make a healthy definition out of it. And as soon as you hit the eighteen's to your little surprise, the system let your hand go.

Get. Rid. Of. Her.

A hard swallow and a shaky breath. sides turned a pale hue of lilac for a moment.

The sooner the better.

You weren't getting rid of the seed growing within you because you hated it. All the opposite. You were being merciful and compassionate. Borderline loving even.

Right?

Your name was called, and everyone's eyes turned to you, some hopeful, a silent plea to keep it, others encouraging, pushing you deeper in the hallway that lead to the surgery room, and others understanding. There was no judging, specially from the blue side. MJ nodded to you, encouraging to keep walking, yet a bit of hesitation remained on them.

With every step you gave, the room came closer, reaching an arm to you, so tempting and inviting to finally grant you what you had been longing for the past days.

Getting rid of it.

Another gulp, but this one was harder to deglute since a solid knot had been tightening in your throat with such force, you were sure you couldn't scream even if your life depended on it.

Like mother, like daughter.

Stomach queasy and oh so dreading to what came next. An open door, tools and equipment ready to be used in your little seed. Brain storming with flashing colors that had you wincing at the plain white light.

The thought alone of resembling in any form of your mother was revolting. Your feet haltered as the doctor ventured herself in. Hands shook, unable to be still, unable to grasp yourself completely. A thick tear rolled down your cheek, then another one followed.

The only thing I regret is not getting an abortion sooner.

A sniffle, your steps approached closer to it. Sterile white filled in with pristine smells. Despite not remembering her face anymore, her voice remained etched on you like a ghost. Leeching on your memories and hindering all possibilities of letting go.

God, I swear. I don't even know what I am paying.

With a trembling jaw and lip, you stepped back.

I was happier, way much happier before you showed up.

Even though the room was open and the doctor called you in, you didn't dare to enter. No matter how tempting and cozy it seemed inside. Just like your foster homes had been initially. You weren't happy to be here, a rush of panic made it's way through your legs, stomach and throat. Rising without any forgiveness.

Why won't my baby just die? Why?! Is not that hard, sweetie.

She had said with all the loveless voice someone could muster after you had spilled her pills down the toilet by accident. Cold and unfeeling hands tightening around your ten year old neck, your little pleas unheard. The same rush of panic flooded your senses, freezing any rational thought with it's biting glacial maws. You were in danger.

Let me show you, baby.

You ran. Ran in the direction you had came in, ignoring the doctor's calling you, the unified shocked stares as you crossed the clinic's threshold. MJ trailing behind you with a perturbed look in her face as she called your name. Everything in your body buzzed, but one thing had you folding and crying in an alleyway.

The child's heart.

Beating with such intensity along yours. Uneven at first, but then in a rhythmic and single one. Strong, steady and very much alive. Grateful even.

MJ's voice called you, to then rush to you.

"I'm so sorry... I can't-"

"It's ok." Hands wrapped around you, cradling you with nothing but tenderness and care. She shushed you and attempted to wipe your tears whole you shook your head vehemently.

You couldn't. You weren't brave enough yet.

"Do you want to get back inside?"

A little shake of your head. Mary Jane helped you to stand and wrapped her sweater around you, promising you'd be fine. Promising that everything would be alright.

"Let's go home, ok?"

Your hands tightened around your lower belly while guilt flooded your senses. You weren't ready to be a mother, that was much true, but you weren't also ready to make such a life changing decision, yet time was running out.

It wasn't thrilling. Yet, you knew an honest talk awaited once you got home.

And this time, a desicion would be born out of your rational side, not from your feelings and fucked up memories.

Your heart however, had turned a shade lighter of lilac, borderline pink.

----

Taglist:

@death-moth-art @miss-taura @xylianasblog @serpentstarr @randomnobody187 @8xbygirl @artyanimi @ittybxttykxttytxtty @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiix @taeecups @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @aockskcw @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #t writes✨

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doctorcatastrophe · 4 months

Text

Movie Night with Kento Nanami

Friday night is movie night 🎉

It becomes something that both of you look forward to

Kento letting you choose the movie because he doesn't really care what you end up watching, as long as you get some time to relax together

You end up choosing cheesy rom-coms because you KNOW he loves them (even if he scoffs and rolls his eyes whenever you tease him about it)

I'm talking pretty woman-bridget jones-love actually type beat

He's a groundhog day, you've got mail, breakfast at tiffany's sort of man and you're a sucker for anything with 2000's J Lo

Working together to make a list of all the classics that you want to watch

Methodically working your way through the list and feeling accomplished every time you get to tick off one of the films

Rewatching all your favs after those really tough weeks that have the life seeping out of Kento or have you tearing out your hair

Needless to say, the two of you would be a power couple when it comes to movie trivia (so get ready for sore loser, pouty crybaby Gojo)

Pajamas, blankets, pillows and SNACKS- so many cosy things because you both deserve it

He loves watching your face light up whenever the happy ending comes around or the couple finally gets together

It just makes his heart warm y’know

By the end of whatever movie you're watching, you're leaning against him, practically in his lap cause there's no better way to end movie night than cuddling up with the man of your dreams

His arms wrapped around you loosely and you snuggle deeper into his side

He's just so warm (argh!)

The credits roll and you yawn, glancing up at your lover whose eyes are closed, a smile on his lips

A small, soft, rare smile that you would have died a thousand times to see

For a second you think he's asleep, until he opens his tired brown eyes

Either him dragging you to bed or you dragging him, depending on whoever is more exhausted (likely him)

Your eyes slide over the names rolling across the screen, not really taking any of it in before you turn to the dark room around you. The darkness is comforting, made so by the warmth of the body beside you and the slow, steady sound of breathing that comes from it. You can tell Kento is treading the line of sleep and you briefly wonder whether waking him is the best course of action. He had come home more exhausted than usual. He tried to hide it, but you weren't blind to the way his broad shoulders sagged or the way dark shadows collected beneath his eyes. Even his suit had seemed lifeless, like the stress of the day had worn out the straight iron-pressed lines and drained the colour from the fabric. You had asked him if movie night was a good idea, pointing out how he was practically swaying on his feet. He immediately turned to give you a confused look, but his eyes softened when he noticed how concerned you were.

“I’m fine sweetheart.”

“You don't look fine Ken.” You sighed, reaching up to trace the dark lines etched into his face. As his hands came up to place themselves over yours, you suggested moving it to tomorrow night instead.

“We are not skipping movie night. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” He shook his head and you knew better than to argue with your stubborn boyfriend, so you settled on giving him a playful flick on the nose.

“As you wish Buttercup.” Your teeth clamp down on your lip as he chuckled gently, humouring the reference with a smile.

“I guess I know what we’re watching tonight then.”

Ultimately deciding that sleeping on the couch would not be good for his already fragile and overworked body, you press a hand to the side of Kento’s face, dragging your thumb over his defined cheekbone. His eyes flicker open, head nuzzling into the warmth that your hand offers.

“Finished already?” His voice is barely above a whisper and the softness of it has you mentally keening. You only hum in response, reaching up to run your hands through his hair. The gesture has him melting against you, arms wrapping tight around your body to bring you closer to him.

“Bed?” You whisper against his chest, just loud enough for him to hear. His fingers entwine themselves in your hair as he breathes in your scent.

“Bed.” He confirms, but makes no effort to move. You laugh under your breath and peel the blankets off of you both, pulling yourself off the couch and away from Kento whose brow furrows in complaint. He sighs, having lost the warmth of you and no longer surrounded by your embrace, but you offer your hands to help him stand and Kento takes them gratefully. In the fragile light cast by the tv, shadows gather along the sharp lines of his face but you can make out his eyes, the warm brown reduced to a glossy black in the darkness. You stare up at him as he leans down and you smile when his lips meet your own. Shivers run down your spine as his fingers thread through your hair, tugging gently to make you gasp. He deepens the kiss and hums before pulling away to mumble something against your lips but you’re so warm and so tired and so happy that you don't hear him and let out a faint, “Huh?”. When you open your eyes, he's staring at you, a lazy lopsided smile gracing his tired face.

“You taste like popcorn.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami #why gege why did you take him from us so soon #self indulgent

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 11 days

Text

I Do

TW: Blood, bruises, and some angst

Ya girl has some off-days from college, and she's decided to use em. Missed y'all < 3

The villain's gloved fingers drummed impatiently on the table, his dark shadow looming over the hero with a promise of danger.

"What's it going to be, Hero? I sell those codes to Supervillain? Or you comply with our little agreement?" His tone was perfectly calm, eerily so, his eyes impossible to read behind the domino mask, but he still emanated danger, his lips drawn together in a tight line.

It was cruel calling it 'their' agreement because the hero had no hand in this. The suggestion had left her more shocked than angry, still reeling from the villain's words.

"Marry me," he'd said in a commanding tone. Like any other choice would've been the wrong answer, tilting her chin upwards ever so subtly.

And the hero held his gaze, transfixed, gasping and laughing and hoping this was nothing but a fever dream.

"Wha-" the hero choked out incoherently.

The villain had let go of her face, his hands resting on the top of her chair. "I can repeat it as many times as you want me to," he stage-whispered against the shell of her ear, his tone gentle and dangerous all at once.

"But, I don't understand. What could you possibly gain from this of all things? You despise me, Villain." She truly couldn't process any of what she was told, the mere idea of being tethered so bindingly to her worst enemy leaving her mind an ineffective, nervous wreck.

The villain huffed out a rough laugh, very genuine and horribly cruel. "Oh, but I do despise you. Very much. I despise how defeated and humiliated you left me in front of half the city . Despised the fact that you got me locked up. Despised how for the very first time, I actually felt like I lost the game, and I'm a rather sore loser, you know." The villain's demeanour was eerily calm, his shoulders straight, his resting face showing nothing but a placid neutrality as he turned to stand in front of the hero, but it was arguably more terrifying, more unpredictable.

"I just want to see you as defeated as I've been, Hero. Bound so intimately to your worst enemy, your greatest nightmare. If you do this, it means admitting to me, and more importantly, to yourself, that the only option you have is bending to my whims," he crooned, his lips curling into a wicked smirk.

The hero wanted to scream, to kick the villain in the teeth and watch the blood trickle down his lips and the bruising dye his skin a grotesque purple. She wanted to think of a clever solution that left the man's face contorted with a strange mix of hatred and respect, to blow his plan up in his face. Anything that would spare her this hell.

"Did I mention you have exactly five minutes to decide?" he piped up casually, examining his nails.

The hero swore and the villain let out a half-snicker. This was madness. A death sentence that would last for the rest of her life. And it didn't matter if she said no, if she undid whatever she could of the havoc those codes would wreak in Supervillain's hands. The conviction so heavily saturated in the villain's tone, the way his jaw clenched and his fists tightened was more than enough proof that he would spread more chaos, spark more fights, destroy an endless array of things and lives until she gave in to him.

The villain loved control like he loved the air he breathed, even more so, like a drug that left him intoxicated and lusting for more.

If she didn't listen, she was sending everyone she cared about, sending the city, the whole world if the villain had it his way, to hell.

The hero sucked in a measured breath, reading the contract word for word, from the title to the fine print, scouring it for a loophole she could use, for any more tricks up the villain's sleeve, just to find nothing. She tried to relax her tensed shoulders, her grip merciless on the pen in her erratically shaking hands, every curve and line of the letters of her name feeling like a blade was slicing through her heartstrings like how one would rip a stalk; slowly, unevenly, time seeming to slow down and the world seeming to freeze for a moment that felt like a thousand years and then some.

The villain didn't smile or laugh or let any display of emotion etch itself onto the harsh lines of his features. He nodded curtly instead, snatching the paper and folding it into a square and tucking it in a well-concealed pocket of his suit. "The cruelty only ends here," he attested, his voice tight and no longer playful, the way it was whenever he promised something.

The hero nodded, swallowing the humiliation at the back of her throat, even though she wasn't inclined to believe him.

"There's a ceremony. Nothing very insane, just you, me and an officiator. This is just a contract, not a marriage certificate, even if we both know which one of those is more binding. You'll show up today, if you know what's good for you, heroine."

The hero wasn't sure when she was up on her feet and slapping the villain harshly across the face, blood spurting from his mouth and staining his perfectly straight teeth, as he only grit them into a manic grin, shaking with a hoarse cackle as he wiped the blood of his face "Is that how you treat your husband, my dear? Do they forget to teach you manners at the hero agency?"

The hero was too dazed with rage to speak, trying to mar the villain's visage with another rough blow to it, until he caught her hand with an iron fist. "I said I'd never hurt you for nothing, but not that I'd let you do to me what you please without consequence. So play nice, darling." The villain let go of her arm slowly, the bruises he left in his wake more than enough of a warning.

The second he left, the hero didn't cry as she thought she would, she didn't scream, she didn't destroy everything around her or rip through her hair. Instead, she slid down against the wall, expressionless but breathing hard, her lungs hungry for air that seemed so unfairly little, her heart playing songs of anxiety and fury and sorrow every horrible emotion she'd ever known.

She was marrying the villain. Marrying the villain, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Marrying him and no one would come to save her.

Sometimes being a hero means saving the whole world except yourself.

✨️Timeskip✨️

Sure enough, the villain was there in a tailored suit, in front of his house her new prison, where he'd told her to show up, the officiator standing with a solemn expression on his face.

The villain wasn't supposed to be handsome, the dark brown hair she was normally used to seeing messy and caked with blood slightly damp with gel and mostly hanging in loose, luscious waves, his eyes a dazzling green-blue, long, dark lashes framing them in a way that put the best kinds of kohl to shame and his cheekbones sharp and high-set, the split on his lip hardly distracting from the rest of his appearance. It was so unbelievably stupid, so inconsequential, and yet the hero hated him even more for his tantalisingly beautiful features, for the way his grin would've fooled her into thinking he truly was in love, if she didn't notice how it didn't reach up to his eyes.

The hero hadn't paid any mind to whatever the officiator had said until it was her turn to say 'I do', flashing the villain a terribly fake smile that wasn't half as charming as his, but it would have to do as she slid a simple platinum ring on his finger, and he slid a diamond ring onto hers.

"Let's go," the villain said when they were finally done, gently taking the hero's gloved hand in his and leading her up the stairs and into the mansion.

The heroine was not one to admit defeat and snap in half in the fashion that a twig would. Many a battle would need to be lost for a victory in the war, many a sacrifice would have to be made for a greater reward. She would take the pain like stone would take a blunt pickaxe, just to twist a knife in the villain's chest when he least expected. Because history forgets everyone but those who laugh the last.

Tagging for this: @hufflepuffwritingstuff2

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-24 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-is-the-reputation4444 @alexii117

#hero x villain #prompt #snippet #fiction #angst #tw blood #tw bruises #natalia's writing #forced marriage #hero/villain #writers on tumblr #female writers #ok ok idk what this even is atp #it just happened #also hero c'mon WHY are you mad he's hot #that's a plus 😭#enemies to. . .uhh you'll see #maybe idk my schedule is unpredictable and so is my muse

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selineram3421 · 2 years

Note

How would Alastor and some other characters react to like, a young child that they were taking care of being kidnapped by Valentino or smth? I love your fics and you're super talented!!

Asdjfkejxjd-

Alastor and Child Reader

Ok. Let me say this, Alastor is not a fan of children.

But then there's ✨ you ✨

A sweet little gremlin that doesn't make him want to strangle someone.

And oh..

Oh no you've been kidnapped

Valentino smirks down at your tied up form, laying on one of the couches in the room.

You look up at him with a blank stare.

"I'm not allowed to curse. Alastor says it's not proper."

"And?", the moth demon says.

"Fuck you."

Let's check in with the hotel shall we?

Charlie is the one who notices you're gone

"Uhh? Angel? Do you know where the little one is?"

"Probably fucking around with fireworks."

Then they notice the hotel is too quiet.

Proceeds to panic

"What the fuck are we gonna do!? Smiles is coming back soon!"

"Get everyone to look around the hotel!"

And they scramble around trying to look for you.

"Anyone find anything?", Charlie asks.

"No, but I found this note that says: We have your little tike XOXO", the little cyclops reads.

.....

Alastor shows up at that exact moment.

Like just. ☁poof☁

Everyone freaks out as Niffty hands him the note

Que to an angry deer

Radio dial eyes, loud static and shadows

"￦e'Re gθ¡nG Oμ+~"

Hey, let's check up on you

You're playing slide with Velvette and Valentino is sitting in the corner with a loser crown

"This is stupid."

"Sore losers can't say anything!"

Somehow you've convinced them to untie you and played nice

For now~

I mean, you are in Hell for a reason

While playing with Velvette, you've marked the exits and weapons in the room in your head. Planning out the best possible way to drive them mad.

Vox is annoying and you can see why Alastor hates him.

"So this is the Radio Demon's pet!", the tv head says and pinches your cheeks.

Chomp

"AAAAAHHHHHH!"

You bully the said demon to play cartoons on his screen.

Ok, now that we know you're not dead. Let's see what's going on with the Hazbin crew.

They haven't gone to the place?

Oh, Charlie

"We can talk this out. No need for murder."

"Charlie. They kidnapped a child and are holding them in a strip club, doing who knows what to the kid!"

"..."

"Ok."

Everyone gathers up weapons.

Angel has guns, Vaggie has her spear, Husk has his claws and Niffty is holding a pair of scissors.

Back to you, who's started a riot.

"Get back here you little shit!"

You giggle and keep running.

Let's see the damage. You broke Vox's screen, tied up Velvette, and Valentino is covered in gasoline.

Fun part is that you have the gallon and lighter.

Hehe~

The Hazbin crew arrives!

Only to find the building in flames and you dancing around in front of it.

"Oh! Alastor!", you cheer and run up to him.

The said demon visibly calms down and picks you up with a smile.

"How wonderful! You remembered what I taught you!"

"A is for Arson!", you say with the most innocent voice.

I had too much fun with this one lol.

Little kid reader is the best.

~Seline, the person.

ML for Alastor🎙

✨Extra✨

#child reader #x reader #gn reader #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor and reader #platonic #alastor and child reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #velvette hazbin hotel #velvette #vox hazbin hotel #vox #the radio demon #alastor & reader

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cobra-diamond · 8 months

Text

My "Big Nos" For Spirit Temple

With Azula in the Spirit Temple nearing publication, here are my “Big Nos” for the story that, if any happen, will cause the book to be a failure for me:

1. The Kemurikage are not purged

2. Azula continues attacking the Fire Nation as a terroristic, stateless actor

3. The asylum is not criticized for its treatment of Azula and the Kemurikage girls

4. Azula does not criticize Zuko from a nationalist, old-regime perspective, instead just whines about him like a sore loser

5. Azula’s villainy is blamed on her personality, not the war

6. Tyzula is established without regard to Azula’s or Ty Lee’s established characters, and it becomes a distraction

Keep reading for details.

1. The Kemurikage are not purged

I don’t mean they need to be killed, or literally made to vanish, but the Kemurikage as a concept needs to end. The dressing up in costumes, throwing smoke bombs, and doing dastardly things not only needs to stop but it needs to be acknowledged as a mistake. Azula and the asylum girls can still be friends, maybe even remain a “group”, but the connection to Smoke & Shadow needs to be severed, which leads to the second no:

2. Azula continues attacking the Fire Nation as a terroristic, stateless actor

This has to stop and be acknowledged as a mistake. Full stop, it ends here. It should never have happened and Azula needs to feel bad for going down this path. Either Azula fights Zuko via a legitimate civil war, or Azula has to accept the country has moved on. She cannot act as a self-serving bandit harassing her country for mind-numbing reasons. The connection to Smoke and Shadow and all it was trying to do with this must be severed. Azula can rage about the events that caused her to go down this path, but she cannot continue down it, which leads to the third no:

3. The asylum is not criticized for its treatment of Azula and the Kemurikage girls

If the abuse at the asylum is whitewashed or ignored or even justified, that will be too much internal inconsistency for me to handle. The Search already tried to establish that the asylum experience was horrible for Azula and tried to break her. Azula can desire revenge, but not against her country and her people. She knows they don’t have that power. She has to hate the people chiefly responsible for putting her there, and letting her rot there, which leads to the fourth no:

4. Azula does not criticize Zuko from a nationalist, old-regime perspective, instead just whines about him like a sore loser

Princess Azula needs to show up. The one who is willing to use fire and lightning to kill people and conquer cities. She needs to hate Zuko on political grounds. She can acknowledge positive personality traits in Zuko that cause people to “like” him more than her, and she can complain about him as would an angry sister who has had her friends and family “stolen” by him, but she does not compromise her deeply held beliefs that the war, her father, and country were right and that Zuko and the Avatar were wrong, because she has not gone through that sort of journey yet, which leads to the fifth no:

5. Azula’s villainy is blamed on her personality, not the war

This better not happen. Azula having a personality that caused people to chafe around her is not villainy, it is a flaw. Azula was a villain because she furthered the Fire Nation’s war as one of her country’s leaders while being a model example of what her father and country expected from her, in other words, everything Zuko was incapable of being. The show even said this. Lording her “rightful” power over Mai and Ty Lee and having no respect for Zuko’s "weakness" is not villainy, it is, once more, a flaw.

If the narrative blames her interpersonal flaws for why Zuko turned against his country, why Mai and Ty Lee betrayed their crown princess, why she mentally broke and ended up in an asylum with Zuko replacing her as Fire Lord, and all the other events that have functionally destroyed her life as she knew it, then that leads to unfortunate implications. It means if only she had been nicer, Aang would have been defeated and the Fire Nation victorious and Zuko would be alongside her and their father helping dominate the Earth. It means if only she had been nicer, she would have been a more effective villain because she would have had allies to help her kill Zuko and Katara during Sozin's Comet. It means the war would have been fine as long as Azula was more like Iroh, smiling and drinking tea while razing villages and conquering cities instead of doing it with a smug smirk that makes grown men (and the viewer) feel small. And through all of it, Mai and Ty Lee would have been at her side, helping take over the world as loyal, loving friends, all because Azula was nicer.

Azula’s contribution to the Fire Nation's war and her belief in Sozin's legacy is why she had to fight the heroes, is why she lost to the heroes, but if it is blamed on her being an “abuser” rather than a military officer trying to take over the world, then this will be blatant character destruction that also diminishes the roll of Sozin and his war in corroding the spirit of the Fire Nation and its royal family, which leads to the sixth and final no:

6. Tyzula is established without regard to Azula’s or Ty Lee’s established characters, and it becomes a distraction

Azula could be a lesbian. She isn’t in the show. Azula and Ty Lee could fall in love, but the franchise decided to make Ty Lee hate Azula’s guts and Azula not have anything to say about it. In fact, Azula’s love life has nothing to do with the critical elements of her character that have caused her life to fall apart. Therefore, I can only conclude that Azula’s love life does not matter since the franchise doesn't think it matters. If this happens, it will be Korrasami pinkwashing to cover up franchise failures all over again. The internal inconsistency will be too much. Azula having a girl crush on “Beach” era Ty Lee is cute and makes sense, but Azula being a self-loathing, sexually frustrated, dark lesbian who is bitter she can’t have Ty Lee makes zero sense given all that has not happened to support either of them harboring such feelings for each other, and it will inevitably end up as the focus of Azula’s character development to the detriment of all else about her.

In conclusion, I don’t know what will make Azula in the Spirit Temple a good story, but I know what will make it a disappointing one. Faith Erin-Hicks was handed a massive task. I hope she was successful.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #avatar comics #atla meta #azula in the spirit temple

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vampyrixdarling · 18 days

Text

— 「𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐓𝐇 𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ Sonic, Shadow, Silver, Scourge and Amy x reader (separate)

: ̗̀➛ synopsis; The hedgehogs just confessed their feelings for you, so how would they act once you rejected them?

: ̗̀➛ Type; Romantic headcanons (short)

: ̗̀➛ warning(s); gender neutral reader, kind of angst, Amy’s crying meanwhile Scourge is a raging man-child.

Likes/Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

☆ He’s a little disappointed, to be honest. He felt really strongly towards you, and he felt like you two were meant to be. To be honest, he completely thought you felt the same, which was part of the reason why he confessed to you in the first place.

☆ Regardless, he respects your choice. He just hopes you two can still be friends. After all, he’d hate to lose someone like you. Partner or not, you’re still really important to him.

☆ All he asks of you is that you don’t talk to him immediately. Let him be alone, he needs some time. He doesn’t hate you, far from it, he just needs some alone time to process this and heal.

SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG

☆ Like Sonic, he’s disappointed. He poured his whole heart out to you, only for you to reject him? He’s never felt this way for anyone, and the one time he chooses to be completely honest with you, it ends in hurt.

☆ He respects you, of course, it just hurts. He’ll swallow his feelings and try his best to support you, whether you find someone else or not. After all, you two can still be friends. It’ll just be awkward for a little while. He’d avoid you like the plague until he finally feels comfortable spending time with you.

☆ You two are formal, no hard feelings. He’ll try to act like he doesn’t care, pretending that he wasn’t really that interested in you and that it was a silly crush— even though he knew it was so much more. But those feelings for you will never fully go away. He needs time, so please don’t go after him or toy with his heart.

SILVER THE HEDGEHOG

☆ He’s extremely hurt. What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? He was sure you did, you showed all the signs!

☆ But no matter what, Silver will support you. He’d smile and swallow his feelings, telling you it’s alright and that you two can still be friends. But inside he’s crushed. He’s fighting the urge to break down and sob, but he’s staying strong for you. You don’t deserve to see that.

☆ He’ll spend so long wondering what it was about him that you didn’t like. It’ll take a lot of comforting from both Blaze and Amy, but he’ll eventually get over it. Mostly. He respects your choice, he just wishes things would’ve been different between you two.

☆ Don’t talk to him. Please give him some time.

SCOURGE THE HEDGEHOG

☆ He’s shocked. Baffled. Angry and hurt. Everybody likes him, you must be joking. He’s hot, he’s cool, he’s everything you need. Maybe you do like him and you’re just lying to him and yourself.

☆ He’d be sour. He can’t do anything to change your mind, so he’ll go out of his way to make your life hell like a full grown man-child having a tantrum. Which is exactly what’s happening. His ego can’t handle being rejected.

☆ He turns his sadness into anger in the blink of an eye. He’d act like he never wanted you in the first place, scoffing whenever you walked by and often boasting about the women he managed to swoon that— keep in mind— were not you. It’s annoying and it stings, but he’s a sore loser.

☆ Don’t talk to him. He’s not interested.

AMY ROSE

☆ She’s extremely hurt. She put her all into that confession, even going as far as baking you some deserts and buying you your favourite flowers, so she’s a bit stunned when you say no.

☆ Tears prick her eyes as she stands there, frozen. She’d force a smile, laughing and assuring you it’s okay, that she really doesn’t mind. Your feelings are always her priority, so she wouldn’t dare cry in front of you.

☆ She’d be your #1 supporter whether you found someone else or not. Amy’s your best friend, and she’s not going to let her feelings get in the way of a friendship she values so much.

☆ Please don’t talk to her immediately, she needs time.

#sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader #silver x reader #scourge the hedgehog x reader #scourge x reader #amy rose x reader #amy x reader #headcanons

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mousy-nona · 2 months

Note

Prompt/Headcanon:

Yes, yes, everyone loves Alastor being addicted to Lucifer’s blood in this fandom (me too tbh)… but what if,,, the opposite was true? Lucifer being addicted to Alastor’s blood? 👀

It started small.

Just one lick.

It had been an accident. He and Alastor had been in the middle of one of their all-out, don’t-stop-til-you-drop brawls. Alastor had started it, because of course he had – he was like the personification of stubbing your toe on the edge of the table, except he was around all the damn time. Lucifer had a vague recollection of yelling at him – “Do you really need to play ragtime jazz at three in the morning? And why are all your speakers facing my side of the hotel?” – and the glimmer of sharp teeth before It Happened.

Alastor shoved him out of the way with his staff, but Lucifer caught it at the last second and tried to pry it out of his grasp a little too enthusiastically. But Alastor – being the prideful, stubborn sore loser that he was – refused to let go, which meant Lucifer suddenly found himself squashed between an irate deer and the hard wall behind them.

“Gerroff–” As soon as he spoke, he felt something soft and pliable split beneath the sharp edge of his tooth.

A second later, something warm and wet touched his tongue. Just a drop.

But sometimes, a drop was all it took.

It was…it was like nothing he had ever tasted before. Like sin and death and the sweetness of apples, all rolled into one. His throat burned, as if he’d chugged an entire barrel of whiskey and stepped up for another round. Everything else he had ever tasted, ever drank, ever smoked, ever kissed faded from his lips entirely. He went in for another lick – but only found empty air.

Alastor had stepped away, rubbing at the side of his neck. The small scratch he’d made was already closed. Lucifer swallowed, his tongue suddenly a size too thick for his mouth. Alastor’s eyes narrowed, his pupils shifting to twin dials, clearly annoyed that someone had tasted him. That was the kind of thing he did to other people.

And from then on, Lucifer was an angel possessed.

—-----------------------------

Every time he caught a glimpse of Alastor, the bittersweet taste of forbidden fruit clouded his mind. He hungered. He needed. And he schemed and plotted away for that next fix.

The only problem was Alastor. He was very, very good at plotting – much better than Lucifer was.

If he crept up behind Alastor while he was chopping ingredients (a devastatingly domestic scene that never failed to make his heart skip a beat), Alastor would put him to work stirring the pot on the opposite side of the kitchen. If he accidentally-on-purpose tried to get close enough to graze him with a sharp claw, Alastor would make very loud insinuations about personal space that would leave Angel Dust snickering and Charlie wide-eyed – Dad, why do you want to get close to Alastor? Ohmigod, are you guys…doing it? What about Mom?

And as he tried to calm his hyperventilating daughter, Alastor would disappear down the hall, spinning his cane and humming West End Blues.

Once, he got so desperate he just leapt off the stairs, aiming straight for that smooth, slender neck of his – and ended up with a face full of carpet. Alastor re-appeared with one foot ground against the back of his head, the shadows behind him laughing so hard he thought they might laugh themselves out of existence.

He was going out of his mind. It had been days, and his whole mouth felt like dust. He smacked his head against the bar so hard glasses rattled in their shelves.

“Why, your Majesty, there’s no need to knock out what little brain cells you have left!” Came a merry, smug, utterly punchable voice to his left. He cracked open his eyes, glaring at Alastor’s wide smile, his gleeful, knowing expression. “If there’s something you want…have you ever tried asking?”

Admittedly, the thought had never crossed his mind.

"Can I...you know..." He gestured towards Alastor's neck, so neatly buttoned and hidden out of sight.

Alastor's eyes flashed green, a ghostly, stitched-up smile hovering just out of sight. "Perhaps. If you're very, very good." He leaned back, satisfaction burning like a brand on every inch of his face. "Only time will tell!"

This time, Lucifer did punch him.

#radioapple #prompt #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #if i didn't end it here it would be another 10000 word monstrosity lmao #duckiedeer #alastor #feed me more prompts!!!

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

cw. none, fluff, gn! reader

gossip! boyfriend kuni who will purchase and later bring you your most beloved beverage to your work place or at home with the secret intent of lingering by your frame for the rest of the night.

so .. you're tireless, constantly on the go from working or studying? that's, in every way, suitable and doesn't matter to him! kuni will persist with his speech right after handing you your refreshment, chattering on how fatigued he had been from working in the shadows for lesser lord kusanali, that, (if he really had to be honest) everyone in sumeru was surely unprofessional, aside from him (goes without saying).

the acting grand sage? a man without drive and enthusiasm if you were to ask kuni, or what about the general mahamatra? your gossipy boyfriend believes he could painlessly beat him in a fight. You're humorously rolling your eyes at him while giggling along at his endearing muttering and how his nose would pleasantly crouch together when he's awfully fed up with all of it. At some point kuni will verge on clinging himself into your body while you're engrossed in your work. He's a sore loser, thornily blowing out warm air when he realizes you're still not giving him his much needed attention.

#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'

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64yrsold · 8 months

Note

Can you write something for the Ross girlies 👀I would give you a big smooch xx

ok! ;)

play with me ross macdonald x reader

“You can’t outdrink me,” he stated, the words carved in stone. He wasn’t challenging me, teasing me, or insulting me. He was making the facts clear.

“I can try,” I shrugged, fingers wrapped around the vodka between us.

“You shouldn’t,” his eyes followed my fingertips, pressed into the bottle. He was trying to hide behind the shadows on his face, to settle into the dark of the empty bar. I wasn’t supposed to catch him, drinking to soothe himself into the end of the day. And I wasn’t supposed to tell him that I was here to do the same thing.

“Fine,” I reached behind the bar for a shot glass, filling it, “I can drink alone.”

He inhaled a little deeper, watching me let the liquor burn down my throat. Watching my lips, stoic and wet, my tongue licking the vodka off of them. He looked back at the bottle quickly when I tried to meet his eyes.

I poured another. He cleared his throat.

“I prefer it, actually,” I took my shot with a grin, cheeks heating already.

He buried his chin in his hand, “You’re the one who came in here.”

“Didn’t know you were here,” I ground the glass into the wood countertop. I reached for the bottle, each drink making me thirstier. “The bar is closed, you know.”

“I’d slow down,” he grumbled, fist now curling under his chin. I watched the muscles flex down the back of his arm.

“You would?” I laughed with disbelief, filling my glass again. When I brought it to my lips, his hand caught my wrist.

“I would.” He took the glass from my hand, my wrist tingling. He took the shot, his lips smudging against my lipstick stain on the rim. He set the glass down, bored.

“I’m winning,” I whispered, my knee brushing his. He laughed, more of a sustained grunt than anything actually jovial. I reached for the vodka, but he pulled it away. He dragged it along the bar, frowning, pointedly placing it behind him.

I liked the idea of going through him for a drink.

I pouted, planting my palm above his knee, “Come on. Play with me.”

“You were always a fucking lightweight,” He glanced down at my hand on his leg, as if it were a fly that had landed on him.

“Just have another drink. For me,” I smiled, sliding my hand off his leg.

“You’re starting to piss me off,” he groaned, but grabbed the bottle and brought it to his lips. A quick swallow, then the sound of the bottle hitting the bar. He raised an eyebrow, happy?

“That’s against regulation,” I pushed the shot glass closer to him. “I can’t monitor your intake.”

He smirked, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I shrugged, “Just use the glass next time.”

He pointed at the shot glass, head tilted, “This one?”

I frowned. I nodded slowly.

He swept up the glass with his fingers, and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall on impact, glass trickling to the floor.

I covered my mouth, “What the fuck?”

“Was that against the rules?” He asked, unable to hide his stupid grin.

“Asshole,” I couldn’t help but laugh, his stifled giggles infectious. “You’re a sore loser, anyways.”

“You’re deluded if you think you would have won,” he muttered, his smile melting off his face. His elbow guarded the liquor behind him.

“Well,” I tapped my nails against the bar, “I hoped you might let me win.”

“You hoped?” His shoulders stiffened as he breathed. His eyes kept jumping to my nails.

I nodded, leaning in, “I hoped you’d get drunk with me.”

He clasped his hands together, roughly entangling his fingers.

“Is that what you hoped?” He spoke slowly. My heart tripped, scattering ahead of me and chanting; yes, yes, yes!

My temple brushed his cheek, “Maybe.”

“Is that all you hoped?”

“No,” I breathed, lips on the stubbly edge of his beard. He was unnaturally still, barely breathing. The bottle scraped against the bar, the sound of vodka rushing to his lips in my ear. He pulled back, looking down at me as he took another sip.

“You need a drink?” He asked slowly, letting his right hand hover by my jaw. I leaned into it, the heat of his fingers connecting to my cheek. I had missed it, his calloused fingertips on my skin, pretending to be gentle as long as he could.

“Badly,” I whispered. His fingers crawled up the back of my jaw, barely there. He was so close, I couldn’t look at him. I watched his collarbones, the tides of them, rising and falling.

His thumb moved to my chin, pressing just below my lip. His palm tilted my head back. My pulse ran up my neck, my vision blue and blurring with the rush of blood. I thought I might slip through the spaces between his fingers, the way my blood slurred and my skin heated. He slipped his thumb between my lips, dragging it into my mouth. His knuckle caught on my teeth. My jaw relaxed for him, and he brought the bottle to my open lips. I watched him through the haze of my lashes, his lips parted as the liquor pooled on my tongue.

I struggled to swallow, his thumb still holding my mouth agape. He sighed, a sort of laugh, watching my throat try to pull the liquor down. He loosened his grip, letting my lips wrap around his thumb, finally letting me swallow.

“How’s it taste?” He tilted his head to the side, setting the bottle aside. He kept his thumb in my mouth, wrapping his other hand behind my neck.

“Like shit,” I replied, muffled. His thumb was on the center of my tongue. I wanted to lick at it, or wrap my lips around it and suck, anything to elicit some reaction in him. Anything to get him to blush. But I was nervous to lose the moment, and let his thumb melt on my tongue like a cough drop.

“I meant me,” he said, lips in my ear. “How do I taste?”

My thoughts stalled in my skull.

I could taste his heartbeat on his thumb, and I let a sigh slip as he popped it out of my mouth. He cradled my face, stroking my cheeks. Looking into me, forcing me to look back. He glanced between my eyes and lips, breathing deeply, a quick sip of air. How he did before he kissed me.

He brought his lips to mine, feather-like and careful. He kissed me slowly, drinking in my lip gloss and liquored tongue. If I listened carefully, I could hear the moans catching in his throat. I waited for his hands to move, to slip a strap off my shoulder, to grasp at my neck or grip the bone at my hip.

“How do I taste?” He repeated, speaking into my mouth. I gasped, thrill crowding my head and scrambling my confidence.

“Like you always did,” I mumbled, and he pulled back. He took his hands off of me, sitting back in his chair. He held the liquor instead.

“I don’t want to be mean,” he frowned. I watched his throat pulse as he took three long swallows.

I shook my head, “I don’t mind.”

He winced, “You do mind.”

“Be mean,” I whispered. “I’ll forgive you tomorrow.”

His face was twisted, his hand curled under his chin. He rubbed at his forehead, between his eyebrows, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You shouldn’t,” he murmured.

I nodded, and reached for his wrist, “Kiss me again.”

“Maybe you’re not good for me,” he laughed quietly, returning my grip on his wrist and pulling me in.

“I don’t care,” I grinned. He picked me up, setting me on the bar counter. I liked how he stood between my thighs, his nose on mine. I liked how he battered kisses into my neck.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, and brought his lips down on mine again.

part 2

#ask64 #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #ross macdonald #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald fanfiction

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