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bluebeary-jay · 5 months

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Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fic #this man needs to be PRAISED he needs to be LOVED and CHERISHED !!!!!#imagine having pedro pascal's face and still being insecure 😔 /j

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chuuyrr · 7 months

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LOWKEY — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, pining, falling in love, drunk confessions, kissing, pet names, reader is a pre-med college student

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he takes his chance and keeps you as his secret

inspired by: lowkey and urs by niki !

chuuya lifts an eyebrow when he notices you sniffling from the corner of his eye as he sips the burgundy red liquid from his wine glass.

it was late at night, he had just gotten off work and wanted to have a drink or two from a neighboring local bar, but he wasn't alone.

there was also you, another customer sitting near the end of the bar stools by the counter.

he sighs to himself as he takes a sip from his glass and musters the confidence to turn to you and speak to you, as he is really worried as to why a young woman like you was crying in the bar late at night.

chuuya was a port mafia executive, a criminal from an underground organization, but in truth he was far from heartless.

"hey, miss, you okay?" he asks, tapping the wooden surface of the counter near to get your attention.

you gaze up at him, your eyes tearful and somewhat puffy red as you sniffle, and the sight of you made chuuya's throat dry for some reason.

he wasn't expecting someone as breathtaking as you. apart from your tears, the alcohol in the high ball whiskey you were drinking was also contributing to the blood pouring into your cheeks.

"m'fine," you sniffle softly, wiping at your tears which makes chuuya sighs.

"is someone giving you a bad time, doll?" he asks, concernedly blinking at you and scanning the room for any suspicious people, but there were only the two of you in the bar.

you shake your head, giggling a little at this redhead's genuine care for you. it was quite sweet of him to be honest. as you glance up at him again, you take a long breath to calm yourself and wipe away any leftover tears.

"i was just crying over.. exams." you blurt out, little embarrassed because he appeared to be an influential man involved in something bigger, like a corporation of sorts, given his fancy and expensive coat, bolo tie, and suit that were of black and gray colors.

"exams?" chuuya repeats your answer, blinking as he looks down at you, making you feel even more embarrassed because he appears to be judging you in some way for it.

"mhm," you mutter gently with a nod, rubbing your arm as you stare down at your lap, feeling glum about it, "i failed one of my exams, and it was a major subject of mine, too."

"that's it?" chuuya sighs quietly, which causes you to become quiet, but instead of something more judgmental, you perk up when you hear a chuckle rumble from his throat and escape his lips.

your cheeks get heated, as if from the whiskey you were drinking or your tears weren't making them flushed enough, and you narrow your eyes at him, "h-hey, it's not funny!" you cry out.

chuuya snickers as he shakes his head, and you wonder if it's the wine making you hazy and all, or if it's something about him—the way he sounded as he laughed and smiled.

he also appears to be genuine, despite his arrogant looking-exterior, and you could tell there was some sort of mysterious allure behind him, as if he was a part of something bigger that you couldn't quite pin down.

"sorry, doll," he sighs, still grinning at you, "you just had me worried there for a second there, you know? you cry like you're on the big screen."

"it was a major exam," you sigh, turning away from him as you finish the last of your whiskey, "and it might not mean anything to someone like you given your status and appearance, but it is a big deal to me."

"i'm failing quizzes, and now an exam, so yeah, it's all a big deal to someone like me because how else am i gonna be a doctor someday with low grades, you know?" you continue, feeling your eyes become glassy with tears again as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"hey, now. hey, i didn't mean it like that, sweetheart," chuuya says softly as he realizes he has offended you in some manner, "i just thought you got hurt or something, and you're the one here in the bar drinking apart from me."

"well, thanks for your concern," you say softly, sniffling and fidgeting with the empty glass that was previously full with whiskey to escape his stare, "i just needed a pick me up.."

chuuya feels an unpleasant pause following the end of the conversation. he watches in silence and nibbles the inside of his cheek as you you call the bartender's attention to order another glass of whiskey.

he could still see the melancholic glint in your pretty eyes. it makes him feel bad for laughing about your circumstance. it's a big deal for you, and it was quite strange for chuuya as well.

chuuya was a port mafia executive, and considering his line of work, he shouldn't be distracted, let alone this soft, but he can't stop himself. he's growing soft for someone like you.

"her drink is on me," chuuya says, drawing the bartender's attention just as you were ready to pull out some cash from your wallet, "and i'll order some chocolate-drizzled hazelnut brittle for her."

your eyes widen as the bartender nods to chuuya and serves your beverage beside the chocolate brittle that actually complements the new glass of whiskey he's got you as well.

"why?" you murmur, blinking at him, confused.

"you said you needed a pick-me-up, didn't you? and besides, you seemed like the type to get something sweet with your whiskey." chuuya shrugs as he downs his wine, turning his face away with his gloved hand covering half of his face, just so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his cheeks.

he says in a hushed tone, "just think of it as me making it up to you for earlier, okay?"

with his kindness, you find yourself actually smiling, having forgotten about the exam and how you were crying about it.

maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

it doesn't take long for him to know you were a regular at this bar, and how you frequently come here and drink when you're stressed out as he learns from the bartender.

chuuya isn't even aware of it, yet he's gradually becoming comfortable and used to you, and it was all because of how he just happened to see you crying that evening when you were drinking your sadness away with some whiskey.

it was a pleasant change of pace for once because he wasn't talking about work that included killing or any underground organization businesses like smuggling.

instead, chuuya was conversing with a college student who is more concerned about failing the exams or receiving a low mark from her professor than with being mugged or shot.

instead of being entranced by gunpower and blood, it was the the familiar aroma of your high ball whiskey and his red wine, and the vanilla scent of your perfume clinging on cardigan every time, and he takes solace in that in secret.

and chuuya listens to everything you say, even if he considers the medical jargons and chemistry-related things you talk about puzzling and nonsense as he didn't really quite gets them at all.

but, in fact, these nights became his favorites—something chuuya grew to look forward to like an addiction, and he misses it whenever he can't come to the bar because you're so busy with college.

he was clearly beginning to feel things for you, because why would a port mafia executive like himself have time for an mere college student that was constantly stressed-out, but he resents it in some way.

he despises how sincere and nice you were because it caused him to lose his guard. his stomach was doing flips all the time around you, which was driving him mad.

at the end of the day, or rather evening, it makes him hopeless to think about you and everything, and it's unfortunate.

you and him come from different worlds in the sense that he revels in the darkness and violence as mori's executive, and the fact that he kills makes him a bad person, and you?

you were so good—too good to be true for him, living in the light, going out with your friends and peers, and studying your love-hate pre-med course. you even aspire to be a doctor someday to help others, which contrasted with him having to kill and do such things as a member of an underground organization.

eventually, from his plethora of thoughts and wild emotions, it all comes down to him beginning to wonder what would it be like to be loved by someone like you.

would he wake up to you rushing to get ready in the morning? would he be able to accompany you while you studied and memorized terms? to comfort you and listen to you recite mnemonics he'll never understand?

would he be the one to give you a bouquet as you hold up your college degree someday?

it was all simple domestic notions invading his head now instead of work, but he had never wanted it so badly before, and it was suddenly as important to him as your college course was to you.

it really makes him sad.

still, he was a port mafia executive.

what would your family think? your college friends think? what would you think if you learned the truth about chuuya, from what he does to the kind of person he really was?

would you run away from him if you knew?

it was another of his late evenings with you, and you were drinking whiskey again—a drink to which chuuya had grown accustomed to.

tonight, you were drinking a little too much tjan usual, but to be fair, you had just passed another round of examinations this month, and you were drinking both in joy and in dread.

while you were relieved to have it over with, you are still concerned about the outcome.

your cheeks were red from all the alcohol you had consumed, but you've also been starring at chuuya for quite some time now, blinking in a haze, not realizing you had been staring since half past two.

your gaze travels from his plush cheeks and lips to his ocean eyes. how come you're only recognizing how handsome he was in person after spending so much time with him? was it the alcohol affecting you?

hmm, or maybe it was something else? you do feel your chest warmer and fuzzier than usual.

in any case, you continue to drink your whiskey while giggling to yourself and shaking your head.

chuuya lifts a brow, finding your little giggle as you drink rather endearing, "what's so funny, doll?"

"hmm, someone's getting tipsy," he murmurs softly afterwards, extending his hand out subconsciously to cup your face. chuuya bites his lower lip, watching you lean against his palm as his thumb tenderly carresses your cheek.

"and someone's pretty right now," you giggle again, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

"huh?" chuuya hums in confusion, though he was finding the words you were uttering quite silly.

"you're.. really pretty, you know?" you murmur softly as you place down the now empty glass on the bar table, smiling softly at him.

"don't you mean yourself, sweetheart?" chuuya chuckles and shakes his head as he finds himself booping your nose, making you smile and giggle even more. yeah, you were becoming tipsy, and he thinks it's adorable.

your [color] eyes gradually narrow as you push your body forward towards him. chuuya's eyes widen for a minute as he notices you leaning against his chest, resting your head against the crook of his shoulder from your seat.

"[name]? y-you okay, doll?" chuuya sputters out, blinking as one of his hands gently moves to your back to rub it comfortingly for you while the other remains on your cheek.

"and you smell so nice too.." you murmur softly, continuing to speak and closing your eyes, not really answering his question at this point.

chuuya takes a deep breath, burying his face in your hair, before wrapping his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, as you softly mumble more stuff at him. as his gloved fingers begin to comb through your hair, his chest rumbles a chuckle.

you two continue to sit on your cushioned seats at the bar like this, and right now, it was just you and him, together with the fragrance of whiskey and wine, and the mellow ambiance being provided by the soft and quiet jazz music playing from the bar's radio.

he eventually rises up from his seat and decides to pull you out of the bar not long after, seeing that you need some fresh air and to be taken home right away.

chuuya was a gentleman, and he wouldn't want you arriving home too drunk, let alone late in the evening.

he wraps his arm around you as he gently pulls you outside, but it sinks into his skin again. the dreadful truth.

even if chuuya really wanted to, he can't be with you like this.. at least that's what he thinks.

you open your eyes, lifting your head when you feel chuuya pull his arms away from you all of a sudden.

"chuuya?" you mutter softly, tilting your head.

"sorry, sweetheart," chuuya sighs shakily, attempting a chuckle, but his smile this time held sorrow as he glances at you and curses under his breath, closing his eyes, "it's just... fuck, i don't wanna ruin this night for you."

"huh, w-what are you talking about?" you ask, blinking in confusion and sobering up as you realize just how serious chuuya was right now.

"baby, an angel like you can't fly down hell with me," chuuya says, looking deep into your eyes before leaning in, his lips to your ear as he whispers, "i'm from the port mafia, and an executive at that too."

as he speaks, his eyes are filled with sadness and perhaps shame. it was apparent that chuuya was not as proud of his work or his life as you were. in fact, how could he compare to someone as good as you in the first place?

it was quite pathetic of him. really.

who would have guessed that someone as arrogant and influential as him would be confessing like this outside a local bar in the middle of the night?

if his friends and colleagues were to see him like this, they would probably laugh, and most importantly think he was an entirely different person.

he finds himself holding his breath, already bracing himself for your reaction with a part of him anticipating you to freak out or get angry.

chuuya watches your eyes widen as he confesses, his heart pounding in his chest. he then lowers his eyes, his head bowed in shame, but he manages a shaky response, "but really, it's okay, baby. you don't even have to love me."

chuuya, however, is surprised to just feel your head rest against his chest again instead of a furious reaction.

"doll?" chuuya asks in surprise, blinking at you.

"i don't have to love you, yes," you whisper softly, your hands reaching for his sleeves, reluctant to let him go, "but i do."

"w-what?" chuuya was in disbelief, and now his eyes were wide—the tables turned.

"i don't mind if you're a port mafia executive," you remark, looking up at him, your hands clenched so tightly around the fabric of his coat that it was bunching in your grip, "i don't wanna ever leave this, these nights we have.. chuuya.."

"fuck, c'mere," chuuya curses under his breath in a hushed tone, and before you two even knew it, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to the back of the bar with him, being impossibly closer to you than before.

you feel your back press against the brick wall of the place where you and you him had just left. for a brief time, his forehead brushes against yours, and you find yourself leaning in and melting into the warm skin contact.

chuuya cups your face in his hands and talks quietly, his breath and the whiff of wine hitting your face, "guess you're flying down to hell with me then, hmm?"

"then, to hell with it," you say back in hushed tone, looking into his eyes, "i'm already yours."

chuuya then slams his lips to yours.

"m-mmh," you quietly moan into the kiss. it feels so warm, and you can taste the wine on his tongue mingling with the whiskey on yours, as well as the hint of tenderness in the kiss.

the alcohol intoxicated your mind, but in a nice way that all you could think about in the heat of the moment was his lips against yours and his arms holding you so closely to him, as if you were going to run away from him.

"hush now, love," his words came out in whispered yet sweet mumbles, punctuated by every press of his lips on yours as he continued to kiss, and oh, you tasted so heavenly.

chuuya could taste the whiskey on your tongue, combined with the minty flavor of cherry gloss on your lips, and smell your ever familiar yet soothing vanilla perfume lingering on your skin and sweater, and he adores it.

it was something he could become hooked to—something he looked forward to every time.

in between kisses, you see a smile pulling on your lips, and you giggle, and he laughs as well.

you glance up at him, swaying slightly from the glasses of whiskey you've just had, and it makes him chuckle even more since he honestly feels the same way, and his hands grip you even more securely and closely as a result and to steady himself too.

"guess we're a little too fucked up to stay still from the drinks, huh?" chuuya chuckles as you rest your head against his chest, nestling it beneath his chin, his arms still encircling you.

"you know, my apartment is just nearby, and it's vacant," you say softly.

"noted, love," chuuya hums, knowing exactly where he'll be tonight, and honestly, he doesn't mind. his penthouse was just as empty and lonely even, and the thought of being with you tonight in yours was all he needed.

you giggle again, unable to stop smiling at all as you close your eyes and bury your face in the fabric of his clothes, finding comfort in the aroma of wine and cigarettes from him, as well as his cologne.

"wonder what i'll do when the cops come through and the whiskey's run out?" you murmur softly, a random thought arising from the alcohol in your system, but you continued to smile, "or worse.. when my parents find out?"

"well, that's too bad, because i'm already yours, doll," chuuya says into your hair, his nose tracing your forehead and cheek before leaning in for another kiss on your lips, closing the distance between the two of you again.

he then brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and presses his forehead against yours once more, "but that's easy to answer, doll."

"then how?"

"we keep it lowkey."

"lowkey?"

"no one's gotta know, just us and the moon til' the sun starts wakin'"

you like this night. everything was just right and you couldn't care less about anything.

⊹ A.N.: i know what you're thinking, and yes, niki writes a fic that isn't inspired by a taylor swift song for once—i had picked up on niki again while i was listening to lowkey and urs, i couldn't help but imagine chuuya !! ⊹.(⁎˃﹏˂⁎)˚. <3

⊹ P.S.: reader may or may not have been inspired by me, your stressed out biochem college girlie (except i haven't drank in months so FAHEHDJSK pls don't drink if ur underage smh)

#📝⸝⸝﹕misc #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd oneshot #bsd fluff #bsd fanfic #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader

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pahtoosh · 6 months

Text

clingy Baba

[image ID: a gif of Bucky smiling and laughing made by tumblr user RansomFlanagan. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~600 words

warnings: lots of touch! Baba may have a little 🤏 problem but he’s not going to do anything about it🤭

a/n: this is inspired by the piece Attached at the Hip by @angelbaby-fics ! please go read it and support the incredible writer, Chloe! (love you Chloe☺️ mwah mwah)

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader(mostly bucky hehe) Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky

summary: a couple times where your baba’s clinginess got the best of him

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Both of your daddies loved cuddling and kissing you at every chance. Steve exercised some restraint. He wouldn’t disturb you if you were totally focused on something and often looked for you to initiate some sort of touch. Bucky, on the other hand, did not hold back. Ever.

Baba often interrupted you while you were coloring. Sometimes it’d be okay and you would return his kiss or be so distracted that you didn’t even notice. Other times..

*kiss*

“Baba! I was colorin’ dat”

“Oh, sorry baby!” He kissed you a few more times on the cheek as an apology. “Baba’s sorry I messed up your coloring.”

“Hmph. Da lines are all messed up.” You crossed your arms and frowned at him.

Bucky wouldn’t crack under the pressure of the best interrogators in shield, but he melted at one scornful look from you.

“What can Baba do, huh?” He sat on the floor and enveloped you in his arms. Another kiss to your head. “How can we make this little baby happy again?”

As much as Bucky was soothed from your touch, you were soothed from his too.

“It’s okay, Baba. Know it was a accident.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Bucky whooped and jumped up with you still in his arms. “I’m forgiven!” He continued cheering and tossing you in the air and catching you.

You laughed gleefully. Steve, who was watching you before Bucky came in, smiled and shook his head at his two silly loves.

Bucky saw the movement from the corner of his eye. He caught you in his arms one more time.

“Uh oh, looks like Dada’s missin’ out.” He whispered. “Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

You nodded before shouting, “Kiss attaaack!”

Steve had just put you down for a nap. He cuddled you to your heart’s content and carefully snuck out of bed when you were fully asleep. As much as he’d love to nap with you, he had some chores to do and he knew it’d be good for you to become an independent sleeper.

About twenty minutes later, he went to check on you and started to worry when he saw your door cracked open. Steve always shut the door for your naps to keep out the noise. He set down the broom and ran to your door only to find Bucky removing you from your blanket cocoon. It took your Dada at least five minutes to perfect that cocoon.

Bucky hummed while he situated you in his arms.

“Hmm, hmm someday I’ll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds are far behind me.”

“Buck. They’re sleeping.”

Baba had the nerve to look offended at Steve’s presence. He covered one of your ears with his free hand.

“I know that, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you singing a lullaby?”

“They love Over the Rainbow, it helps them sleep.”

“Okay but they didn’t need help sleeping if they were already asleep, right?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and turned around, continuing to sing softly and sway with you in his arms.

While he wanted to stay true to his caregiver instincts, Steve had to admit that it looked pretty cozy getting to hold you like that. He joined Bucky’s humming and wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist as they both rocked side to side with you.

Still fully asleep, a small smile appeared on your face. Even while unconscious, you knew that you were safe and so loved.

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #fluff #cuddles #sfw regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #marvel agere #clingy baba #clingy-baba #toosh writes

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what-even-is-thiss · 2 months

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There’s all this bad news going on right now in the trans community and to a certain extent I feel like I should talk about it because I’ve kinda got a platform. But I’m just. I’m tired. I’ve been tired for a long time.

I’ve always seen trans people as my people. Doesn’t matter their gender or race or past or nationality or anything. Even when I was deep in the closet I was like I feel that. That’s my people. And my people are being harassed by people in power. My people are being murdered. My people are being turned against each other by outsiders. But the cynical part of me, the extremely tired part of me is like, what else is new? What else is new? What thoughts could I possibly add to any of this? What hasn’t already been said? If you won’t listen to the rest of my people at this point, why would you listen to me? I’m not separate from them. I’m just as much of a tranny faggot cross dresser genderweird freak as any of them.

And if you’re actually listening, chances are you’re either one of my people or made your mind up about us a long time ago. I’m preaching to the choir here. I’m mourning for the dead and those still alive. I’m doing the same things I’ve always done, seeing the same things I’ve always seen. Another transfem will get banned and harassed, another child will die, another brother or sister or sibling will be shot down for their gender or their color or both and my anger is there. It’s always been there. But you reach a point in the cycle where you’ve seen the outrage go in and out of fashion a week at a time. The injustices looked at for a minute or two and then forgotten. And maybe each cycle brings us a little closer to some sort of tipping point where someday we will be more accepted than not but it shouldn’t be like that. The violence and the harassment shouldn’t be what gets people looking at us.

But the cynical part of me is tired right now. What can I add? What can I say? I’m tired of this cycle. I’m tired of the needle moving slowly. But I’m just one guy. What can I do? What can I say that hasn’t already been said?

If I have to say one thing, I’ll say that. You should listen to my people while we’re here. Even during the short and quiet peaceful times. Not only after we’ve been wronged or killed.

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dotster001 · 9 months

Note

I came running once I saw requests were open. Can I please get househusband Riddle, Leona, Cater, Deuce, and Kalim? Ty! Love your work.

3k follower Masterlist

Part One part three

Obviously, there's no world where this man starts out as a househusband. He's a highly paid Doctor to start out. Then you two adopt a baby. After his own childhood, he wants to give a child a chance that he didn't have. While You're both working, you still have more time to spend with the baby. When Riddle finds out he misses the baby's first words, he puts in his two weeks immediately.

He's still strict, but it's in a much more manageable way. He is a good tutor though, so all the neighborhood kids come to him for homework advice. Eventually, at the behest of some very stressed neighborhood moms, he starts a homeschool group.

The house is always spick and span, everything is in place. The home, and everything in it is white or red, looking very professional.

Every meal includes the proper portions of each food group. But there's also a rather sumptuous strawberry dessert at the end of every meal. He asked Trey to teach him as many recipes as he can. But that means…some of them look really good, but every once in a while, one looks like a gooey mess. It still tastes good, but he feels self conscious about it.

Like Idia, he's only technically a househusband. He's an influencer, and he works from home. But according to his sisters, that's not a job, so call him what you will 😡

As much as he insists he's not a househusband, he sure acts like it. He says it's for his magicam, but you've caught him dutifully icing a cake with no camera present.

Like Riddle, he's super color coordinated, there's just much more variety of colors. And every room is designed in a way that can be "cammable" at a moment's notice.

He drives to your work everyday with a bagged lunch, and makes you eat with him. He never skips a day, even if he's sick. And he always adds a cutie element, like cutting your sandwich into shapes, or drawing a picture on the bag.

He's a trophy househusband. Not doing anything. He hires a maid and a butler using his leftover allowance from his time living with his brother.

He's never worked a day in his life, and doesn't intend to start now.if you confront him about his laziness and spending habits, he'll say something like, "Baby, my job is to be here and look pretty when you get home. If you no longer want to be cuddled, then I can start doing housework." Obviously, that's not what you want.

Tbh you have no idea what he even does all day. You leave and come back hours later to him in the same spot and same position.

He's average.but like, in a good way.

He puts 110% effort into everything. He likes to cook, but he has a 75% success rate. He's decent at cleaning, but he breaks stuff from time to time. Sometimes it's been three days and he remembers he's supposed to walk your overweight dog everyday.

But he's so happy to do what he does. And it's human to make mistakes. Plus, Everytime you forgive him for one, he goes husband mode, and makes out with you hard. (It used to be delinquent mode, but then he realized he could use it to his advantage)

He's still a rascal, still picks fights with some of the neighbors over how he can keep the grass as tall as he wants, still gets into trouble when Ace comes over to visit. But he's less likely to beat someone up so bad that you need to bail him out again

*Sighs* a part of you knows that this might be a game to him. But you can't really blame him.

He has enough money that neither of you would have to work in your life. But for whatever reason, you feel the need to. Perhaps it's you also playing the game.

See, someday he has to take over his father's business. So you think that's why he wants to play house right now. Because he knows one day he won't get the chance.

Jamil lives in the guestroom, and does his best not to ruin the immersion. You can usually tell who cooked dinner that day (no offense Kalim) But other than that, Kalim gets left to his own devices.

He's the kind that will wake you up at three in the morning to tell you he reorganized the kitchen. When you go to look the next morning, half of it's a disaster, the other half just doesn't make sense. But he's so proud, and waiting for you to tell him he did a good job, so he'll keep doing it.

He's also the kind that you come home, and he has a whole litter of puppies, with a pout on his face as he begs if you can keep them 🥺

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #cater diamond x reader #cater x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader

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project-sekai-facts · 10 months

Text

Since the start of the game, it has been heavily implied, if not outright stated, that Minori has a crush on Haruka. To a lesser degree, it has been implied that Haruka has feelings for Minori.

In chapter 17 of MORE MORE JUMP!'s main story, when Minori performs a show to give Haruka the hope she needs to perform as an idol again, she tells Haruka that the first time she received fanservice from her was the first time she ever felt the happiness of falling in love with someone (altered in official translation).

In Minori's self-introduction, she flubs a line towards the end, but Haruka insists that they keep it in because "it's so Minori". Meanwhile, in Haruka's self-introduction, Minori thanks Haruka's parents for bringing her into the world and allowing them to meet. Haruka then says that she should be the one thanking Minori's parents, for letting her meet someone like Minori, causing Minori to become extremely flustered. Minori thanking Haruka's parents for giving birth to her is also referenced in 4koma #6 and her menu voiceline for Haruka's birthday in 2021.

In the side story for Miku's Stage SEKAI 2* card, she blows a kiss to Minori during a show. Minori then imagines Haruka blowing her a kiss, causing her to blush and think that she was about to have a heart attack.

In her 2021 Valentine's menu voiceline, Minori became extremely flustered over finally having the opportunity to give Haruka chocolate. Haruka comments that Minori getting all red in the face will make her embarrassed too. Even Airi comments on Minori's bold decision to give Haruka chocolates.

In their White Day menu voicelines from that year, it was revealed that Haruka gave Minori a return gift. Minori says that she will treasure it forever.

There are multiple instances of Haruka looking fondly at Minori. Perhaps the most notable is both her untrained and trained You Deserve It 4* card.

Minori passed out when Haruka wished her a happy birthday in 4koma #41. Haruka insisted on performing the birthday show for Minori even though Airi had warned her about what would happen.

In Airi's Unyielding Indomitable Spirit 4* story, it is revealed that while Airi and Shizuku went to the picnic with Ena and Mizuki, Minori and Haruka went to Phoenix Wonderland together. Their trip is shown in Luka's Fairy Lantern ♪ 2* story.

Minori's Passionate Call untrained 4* card speaks for itself, being the first time she was depicted with 'heart-eyes' around Haruka. This card is from Haruka's first event, Break Time for the Hardworking You!, which featured the commissioned song Ai no Material, which is explicitly a love song. While Haruka and Shizuku took the duo centre of the song, Minori was the only character to receive an Another Vocal for it.

The future that you were gazing at, I don't know if I can take you there. I hope I can support you, and keep walking with you.

In Haruka's Someday, I'll Deliver Colorful Festival 4* story, it is mentioned that MORE MORE JUMP! played a game called "No Blushing - Smiling Staring Contest!" on their stream that day. Minori lost the game because she couldn't keep a straight face whilst looking at Haruka. Minori later adds that Haruka's smile has the power to "make anyone's heart race".

Haruka's fragment SEKAI is born from her reminiscing about the idol that inspired her and was able to make her smile when she was younger, and wishing she had the chance to meet this person. Haruka thinks she spots her idol in amongst a crowd, and proceeds to chase her throughout the SEKAI. Although she keeps losing track of her idol, she is determined to tell her about how she inspired her. While thinking to herself, Haruka remembers Minori telling her how she was her inspiration to become an idol. She continues to think to herself, remembering how she was genuinely happy when she met Minori and was able to get on stage again because Minori gave her hope. This makes her more determined to find her idol and tell her how much she was inspired by her.

When she runs into a dead end again, she finds a dove with a clover in it's beak. It gives her the clover and then leads her to a house filled with more doves. While it is dark inside, she thinks that she recognises the room. She feels compelled to open the windows and let all the birds fly free out of the darkness, just as her idol did for her. She then notices that all the birds have clovers in their beaks that they want to deliver to other people as they did with her, and she frees them. Haruka's idol then appears behind her and talks to her. Haruka recognises her voice and tries to talk to her, but the SEKAI disappears before she gets the chance.

It is heavily implied that the idol that Haruka was chasing around the Fragment SEKAI was Minori. From her remembering Minori's message of hope while she was trying to find her childhood idol, to wanting to tell her childhood idol about this event, to the doves that were carrying clovers (MORE MORE JUMP!'s symbol that will bring hope to their fans, that was Minori's idea). Not to mention the fact that the dove gave Haruka a clover and led her straight to where her idol was. The woman who appears in the SEKAI even looks like Minori with longer hair.

However, it could be argued that Haruka's childhood idol just heavily resembles Minori, seeing as Haruka recognises the voice as nostalgic and identifies the woman as her childhood idol instead of Minori (it was in a crowd though). However, after returning from the fragment SEKAI, Haruka only refers to the mystery woman as "her", adding to the ambiguous identity.

Minori and Airi covered the song Ren'ai Saiban, a song about someone who is trying to win back their lover after an unspecified incident. The 2DMV for the cover plays up the "winning back the lover" aspect, since at the end, after Minori and Airi free themselves from their handcuffs, they free Haruka and Shizuku as well. Miku seems to approve of this ending despite trying to sentence them for the first three and a half minutes of the MV.

In Buddy Funny Spend Time ♪, the two go on a "double date" with An and Kohane. While ultimately it is treated as platonic and neither of the couples are considered to be in a relationship outside of or even in the event, An at the very least does seem to consider it as romantic (Peak Excitement 3* story).

Still on the topic of BFST, in chapter 1 of the story, An says that Minori really likes Haruka, and that Haruka feels the same way. Later on in the event, Minori relates to how flustered Kohane is around Haruka, saying that Haruka is really cool and cute, and her heart raced when Haruka first called her by her first name. She also relates to Kohane's jealously over An and Haruka's close friendship later on in the story.

At one point during their outing, the four girls go shopping for street style clothes. Minori doesn't think she fits the look, until Haruka tells her that she suits the clothes and she decides that she will keep them forever. The event 4koma also shows that Minori is very attracted to Haruka's street style look.

At the end of the event, Minori confesses to Haruka that she doesn't know much about the real, non-idol Haruka, and that she had been trying to get closer to Haruka during the event by trying to please her (such as going on a rollercoaster when she didn't want to). Haruka tells Minori that she likes her just the way she is, and that she doesn't need to force herself to do things she doesn't like.

Haruka's trained A Street Style Idol!? 4* card from this event can be seen at the top of this post, depicting Minori and Haruka with their arms linked.

In 4koma #92, Kohane tries to understand the emotions that An an Akito felt while watching RAD WEEKEND, although she can't get a clear image since neither of the two can express it in words. Minori chimes in and explains that she understands not being able to put feelings into words, describing "emotions swirling inside of her" while she thinks of Haruka. Shiho remarks that what Minori is feeling is not the same as what An and Akito felt at RW.

Minori's Enthusiastic Talk! untrained 4* card depicts her holding a drawing she did of a costume for Haruka. The drawing is surrounded by pink hearts and one of the annotations reads "cute!".

Minori's 2022 White Day menu voiceline reveals that Haruka gave her chocolate for the holiday, causing Minori to get extremely flustered yet again.

In a flashback during the Dear Me, As I Was Back Then event, we see Minori attend an ASRUN concert, during which she shouted out her love for Haruka. In Minori's untrained Beyond the Spotlight 4* card from this event, you can see Haruka watching her in the background.

In Scream!? Welcome to the Wolf Forest!, Minori is comically blinded by Haruka's cat cafe costume. She says that she can't look at Haruka because the cat ears suit her so well, but at the same time she really wants to look, and feels like her head is going to get torn off.

A similar instance of Haruka's presence 'blinding' Minori was shown in 4koma #61.

Minori's 2023 Valentine's Day menu voiceline reveals that Haruka gave her Valentine's chocolates, rather than the other way around. Although Minori wants to eat it, she isn't sure if she wants to sacrifice the gift.

For that White Day, Minori gave Haruka three times the amount of gifts that Haruka gave her for Valentine's Day as her return gift. Haruka suggests that they eat the sweets together, since she won't be able to manage them by herself.

During MORE MORE JUMP!'s 1st live, during one MC game, Haruka tells Minori that she loves her, causing the latter to nearly faint.

Haruka: Thank you. I love you, Minori Airi: Woaaah! Knock out! Shizuku: That's amazing, Haruka-chan

The second set of birthday cards show the gifts that each character was given by the other members of their unit. In Haruka's card, you can see a handwritten letter, with an opening line that reads "I lo-lo-lo-looove you, Haruka-chan". Minori's card features a letter from Haruka in return, as well as some ASRUN photographs.

In Haruka's card, you can see that Minori also gifted her a T-shirt that matches the otter one that she wears for training, only this one has a penguin, Haruka's favorite animal, on it as well. In 4koma #15, Minori picked out a similar shirt for Haruka, featuring only the penguin.

Minori also keeps a collection of Haruka merchandise in her room.

#love wins #project sekai #haruka kiritani #minori hanasato #yes this is the post that won the poll at the beginning of the month #and here we go #4koma #cards #2dmv #fragment sekai #theory #this is not everything i am aware of that. seasonal voicelines and gacha unluck got in my way #oh theory refers to the fragment sekai stuff. not mnhr. that's canon this is a whole post proving that it is

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 2 months

Text

I don't know who needs to hear this, but you should make an OC.

You should make an OC. Specifically a Spider-Sona. Like now. Preferably yesterday. [A MEDIUM-LONG essay about OC's, fanfiction, and how to enrich and better your writing skills in literally every sector. Throughout this essay I reference my two characters Disco-Spider and Inca-Spider as examples of the way OCs can be used.]

_________________________________________

"But no one cares about OCs -"

OKKAYYYY??

IDK about ya'll but fandom is NOT my final destination no siree

I feel like a lot of the time we get so caught up in posting and notes we forget that for many artists and writers on this platform - fanfiction is not the true end goal.

Many of us write and draw fanart for years -

But the fact of the matter is if you want to be an author someday, if you want to be a graphic novelist, an animator, etc, etc - You're going to HAVE to make OCs.

If you want to study English in college or publish books - you're gonna have to write an OC at least once. If not hundreds of times.

If you want to study art - chances are at some point you're gonna have to fill a portfolio with original pieces, including some of OCs.

If you want to do something with your writing, if you want to get better - or make a career out of your art, you HAVE to make OCs at some point.

And this is especially true for fanfiction writers.

You can get very very very good at writing in your specific fandoms, you may have the emotions of the characters on point, and the ability to describe the scenery.

But if you don't know how to create and design a character - if you don't know how to worldbuild, or come up with scenarios without the help of characterai and ChatGPT - you won't be able to write a book.

If you're an artist and you don't know how to draw an original character from scratch, how to match colors, how to draw certain skin tones, certain hair, wheelchairs and mobility aids, how to design a character from looks, to clothing - it's going to be so hard to expand your art outside of fanart. You'll always be beholden to the notes and popularity of your particular fandom.

Do it - even if you've never written or never draw before. Even better.

That's why I CHAMPION Spider-sonas so much. They're basically OCs on easy mode.

Can't write backgrounds yet? Here's a bucket on canon events to pick from? Can't draw faces? Blank mask with eyes.

Hell, if you're really really new about it - just pick a character and make a slightly different variant. Make a Hobie of your own, make a Peter variant. Make a Mary Jane variant. Pick a something you like and turn that into a character.

Can't write? Just fill-in the 'My name is [blank], I was bitten by a [blank]' script that Miles does. Can't draw, just draw out a basic shape of a body and color-out the suit, no fancy pose needed. That still counts!!

Make a self-insert. Make yourself fit into the story, design your suit, write out how you fight crime, how you'd act at the Society, meeting Miguel or Miles.

That's still character design, that's still worldbuilding.

We always hear people say 'Make art for yourself' and yeah that sounds nice - but people also misinterpret it.

Make art for yourself doesn't just mean making art that you personally like.

Making art for yourself also means making art that develops your skills even if no one gives a fuck. It's about making art as practice without the intention of it being 'completed', making OCs that never get used, drawing locations you see or writing a random ass short story then shoving it into your Google Drive forever.

Making art for yourself means making art that invests in yourself.

It means making art that interests you, challenges you, or helps you develop.

And making OC's helps develop your fanfic writing skills.

In may fandoms we begin to fall into these routine 'tropes' between characters and their personalities. This is usually known as the 'fanon' characterization.

Because when you have a set amount of characters and people, there's also a set amount of interactions and relationships between those people.

Writing OCs and having those OCs interact with canon characters allows you to dig deeper into sides of the canon characters we'd never otherwise see.

That's why I wrote Disco-Spider Diane like I do. Often, we see Hobie characterized as the chaotic, rowdy, confident type - which is perfect characterization for him. But in almost all of his interactions - he's the wilder, bolder, extroverted one. I wanted to put him in a situation where for once, he was the calmer one. I wanted to explore more grounded and chill sides of Hobie, one where he's the one grounding the other, and thinking logically - because in canon, we're hinted at a side of Hobie who's way more methodical and slow-paced and willing to stop and wait it out and play it off. And I wanted to see that. I wanted to explore what he'd do if he was faced with someone just as chaotic, who put on a cheeky ironic act - just the same as him.

Because no other characters serve that purpose in canon.

If there are elements of a character or concept you think are interesting but outright ignored by canon and fanon, you can create an OC to explore those parts.

For Disco-Spider: I wanted to explore how someone like a militant Black Panther would handle being Spider-woman, when Spider-people are usually shown as pacifists - what that would look like or how it'd shape her morals based on era, etc. For Inca-Spider: I realized there were so many culture based Spider people like Pavitr and Spider-UK. But none for indigenous communities, and NONE from countries that only existed in other universes. So, I created an indigenous character from Tawanti - a country that's located where Peru would be for us.

You can give a canon character a sibling, to explore how they'd interact with family. Give them a partner that acts totally different than their canon partner, write how that'd change the way they show love.

OC's make your original writing better, AND your fanfiction writing too. They can help you understand canon characters on a deeper level.

And sure, nobody likes your OC. NOW.

But every single character you write about, is someones OC. Every character you write about was once treated that way. Once upon a time, Dean Winchester was just some rando character in the pilot script of a show that hadn't picked up yet. Probably no one gave a fuck until CW picked it up.

The writers had to not only make him and develop him - they had to BELIEVE in him enough to pitch him to a TV show channel to make people care.

That's always the first step. Believing your character's story is worthy enough of being told and presenting it as such.

ESPECIALLY if your OC represents a demographic you don't see represented. Cause yes if there isn't any black women in canon then I'll Thanos this shit and do it myself.

Make OCs.

Write them. Draw them. Even if it's bad. Who the hell cares. Big Mouth is on Netflix with multiple seasons, have you seen that show?? 'Ugly' art is not a crime.

Make piccrews, fill out OCforms or take quiz's as them. Write little blurbs of them hanging with canon characters then post it in the tag.

You don't need a huge Spidersona sheet or a long long fic explaining their backstory. They can just be there.

MAKE OCs.

Make them to explore more in your fanfiction, make them so future you can write that novel or draw or that comic or sell those prints or whatever it is you plan to do.

Make it so your fanfiction AND original writing can grow stronger. It isn't just about notes and content and follows.

Make an OC. Make a Spidersona. Literally you have nothing to lose but your chains.

"Nobody cares-"

Oh they'll care when you pop out with that 6-book publishing deal. They'll care when you're designing big characters for movies. Cause that's how it happens. Watch.

ANYWAYSSSS if you made it this far I hope this inspired you to at least play around with the idea of OCs and Spidersonas in general.

Here's Hobie.

BYE.

If you want to make a sona and are kinda lost on where to start, lemme know!! Because I think they're amazing starting places for those who have never written or drawn before. Or if you have a sona but want to develop them further.

I haven't seen a guide to spidersonas and i wonder if that's something some people might want/need.

Seriously if I can even get one person into writing or drawing I'll be over the goddamn moon.

MAKE OCS PLEASE.

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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months

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Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario

Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.

For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)

Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.

Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?

That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.

Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.

At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.

He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.

I’m happy I’ve met you.

Thank you for being here.

Good night and have pleasant dreams.

You are stronger than you think, Angel.

I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.

You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.

You’re doing great.

Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.

Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@tired-of-life-86

@nixie-writes

@frompeach

@riddle-simp

@likesugarandcyanide

@witch-of-the-writing-desk

@22carolina08

@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura

@justamegafan

@saltyfruitbat

@lanxianschoenheit

@trecllllllll

@vikkirosko

@imperfectbloodmoon

@theunknowntravel3r

@thatstonedwriter

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@doc-tooth

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel angel dust #an idyllic novelist #violet evergarden!reader #violet evergarden #character!reader #fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel episode 4

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candycandy00 · 6 months

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The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Oral sex. Fingering. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

Toji looks down at the doll sitting on her knees between his parted thighs, running her wet tongue along the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip. She takes as much of him into her mouth as possible, but he’s just too big. Any more than halfway and she’s choking. Doesn’t stop her from trying though, bless her cock hungry little heart.

It’s been nearly two weeks since he began training her, and she’s gotten extremely good at giving head. She pays close attention to what Toji likes, what little movements or techniques make him grunt or twitch. Usually the dolls he trains are so focused on their own pleasure, on satisfying their own hunger for dick, that they don’t put much effort into pleasing him.

There are several ways this doll is different. Like usual, he fucks every hole she has every single day, normally multiple times. And like any other doll she begs for it, constantly wanting to be stuffed full of him. She can take all of him now, though she’s still so tight it feels like his dick is in a vice grip when it’s buried in that tiny pussy of hers.

But unlike any other doll, she wants more from him. She asks him questions about himself all the time. What’s his favorite color? His favorite food? What types of music does he like? Where did he grow up? What’s his family like?

He’s answered some of these, and she was surprised when he told her he has a son. But then she smiled and said, “I hope I can meet him someday.”

“You might get to,” he’d told her. “Whenever I can’t find someone to watch him, I have to bring him to work with me.”

She’d gaped at him with a horrified expression. “You bring your son here?!”

He’d laughed then. “Don’t look at me that way! It’s not like I bring him into the room to watch! I hooked a PlayStation up in one of the empty rooms. I leave him in there with some snacks and he’s fine. I tell the other trainers so they can make sure their dolls are dressed in the dining hall.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound as terrible as I thought,” she said. “It’s still not good though. I mean he knows what goes on here, right? Or at least has a vague idea.”

Toji had shrugged. “I don’t know what that kid is aware of. He hardly speaks to me. But he gets along with the others. It’s like he has four cool uncles.”

“Don’t you mean five?”

Toji grimaced. “Sukuna isn’t allowed to speak to him anymore. One day my kid asked him why there was always screaming coming from his room. He could have made up anything. But he looks my nine year old right in the face and says, ‘Because I’m torturing a woman in there.’ After that, Sukuna’s cool uncle privileges were revoked.”

She had laughed, despite being mildly disturbed. He’d laughed too, and it struck him then: he’d never had a conversation like this with a doll he was training. It was all sex all the time. They didn’t care about his personal life and he didn’t care about theirs. They had nothing to talk about besides what was for dinner or where he wanted them to bend over next.

He was reminded of the times he’d chatted with her in the convenience store. She’d always been so easy to talk to, so friendly and cheerful. He tries not to remember that. He’s always made a conscious effort to not view his dolls as people with lives outside this house. Because that makes it easier to fuck them over and over again and then turn them over to the next guy who will do the same. All the dolls accepted to the Doll House willingly sign their contracts. The owner doesn’t take women who are clearly being sold off against their will, but most of them sign because they’re desperate in some way. Toji prefers not to think about that.

But this new doll actually wants to get to know him. He knows he shouldn’t encourage that behavior, but she was already in love with him before the training started. Is there any point in trying to keep her from getting too attached?

Even the way she sucks his cock is different. She absolutely devours it, taking it so far down her throat that it feels like she’s trying to swallow it, but the way she looks at it, and him in general, is different. She doesn’t just look at him with lust in her eyes. There’s a genuine affection he hasn’t seen since… Well, he hasn’t seen it in a long time.

And when he cums in her mouth, completely coating her throat, tongue, lips, she looks up at his face and smiles so sweetly. Like he just did her a favor.

A shame she won’t be reserving that look for him much longer.

********************

You get to your feet as you lick your lips, making sure to swallow every last drop of Toji’s beloved cum. You’re not satisfied. Not in the least. It’s late in the evening and he’s only fucked your pussy once today. So you go over to the dresser and bend over onto it, looking behind you and wiggling your bare ass.

“Toji… fill me up, please?”

He gets up from the chair he’d been sitting in and saunters over to you, his slow pace driving you mad. He’s still dressed, but his pants are unzipped and his still hard cock is hanging out. The “aphrodisiacs” you both take every day have some strange side effects. One of them being Toji’s ability to stay hard even after cumming multiple times.

Lately he’s been increasing the dose he gives you. You’re not sure why. You don’t think you even need it to begin with. You spent countless nights touching yourself while imagining being fucked by him, way before he ever gave you the first dose. But he’s the trainer, and you agreed to do as he said.

He doesn’t really have any rules aside from insisting you take the aphrodisiacs. You can go anywhere in the house aside from the other trainers’ personal rooms and can even leave the house if you want, so long as you return by nightfall. You’ve never left since you got here though. You don’t want to waste a single moment that you could be spending with Toji.

One of the biggest perks of being his doll is that you’ve been given a front row seat to his life. You get to see exactly how he spends his time, what his routines are.

Every morning he takes a shower, grabs breakfast in the dining hall (sometimes you go with him and the two of you eat there together but most often he simply brings two plates back to his room), and then the two of you spend a few hours doing various things. Mostly fucking, though sometimes things get a little adventurous and you play strip poker together or even watch each other masturbate at the same time. Toji doesn’t seem picky about the activity. As long as it results in him cumming multiple times in a row, he’s up for anything.

Lunch is always snacks or microwaved meals from the convenience store. He doesn’t seem to like what’s usually on the lunch menu in the dining hall. You sometimes get lunch there by yourself.

In the afternoons, Toji often works out. There’s an exercise room at the house with some pretty impressive equipment. You suppose that explains how all the trainers have such perfect physiques. You love watching Toji lift weights or even run on the treadmill, your eyes glued to his sculpted form as his muscles move beneath his clothes. By the time he’s finished, you’re absolutely drenched and practically dragging him back to his room. Once you were so horny you locked the door to the exercise room and hiked your skirt up while he was doing pull ups. You ended up hanging from the bar by your trembling hands while he fucked you mercilessly from below.

On some evenings, Toji goes to check on his son Megumi. You hate being without him for a couple of hours, but you understand that it’s important for him to go. You’re dying to ask about Megumi’s mother. You know she’s no longer in the picture, as Megumi is staying with other relatives, but you don’t know if she died or just ran off and abandoned the family. You’ve danced around the edges of the topic, but never directly addressed it.

There’s a sorrow buried deep in Toji’s eyes whenever you get close to mentioning her, when you ask other, related questions hoping to get more information. “Why is Megumi staying with relatives?” “Does he look more like you?” “What did you do before you became a trainer?” All were asked in the hopes that he would talk about her, but he very pointedly never mentioned her. So you’ve stopped asking those sorts of questions. Obviously, thinking about her hurts him, and you love him enough to want to avoid that.

Now, as Toji grips your waist with his large, strong hands and rams his enormous cock into your eager pussy, you lose track of your thoughts. The only thing on your mind is the feeling of his powerful thrusts, the rhythm he builds, his skin against yours.

You’re bent over the dresser, the few items he has there scattered across the floor now. You can see him in the mirror behind you, can see his handsome face, slightly flushed from the exertion of absolutely pounding you. He sees your reflection watching him and grins at you, the charming scar on his mouth stretching slightly. As if to give you a treat, he pulls his shirt over his head, allowing you to get a good look at his muscular body.

After a moment, you glance at your own face in the mirror, and hardly recognize it. Your hair is a mess, your face red, your mouth hanging slightly open, a sheen on your lips from Toji’s cum, and your eyes… They look different somehow, like tinted glass. Is this what they call a “blissed out” face?

“Harder,” you mutter between moans.

“What was that?” Toji asks.

“Harder! Please!” you cry, suddenly feeling like it’s not enough unless he’s all the way in you womb. Is this because of the aphrodisiacs? You’re so needy today.

He leans over onto you, his chest against your back, and whispers, “Sure you can handle that?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. “I can handle anything if it’s from you.”

“If you say so,” he says, then suddenly straightens up and lifts you into the air, holding you in front of him by your hips. You’re folded in half in midair, your arms and legs dangling above the floor. You look in the mirror and watch him relentlessly drill into your limp body, with you hanging in front of him like a literal rag doll.

“Ahhh… Toji! S-so deep…” you cry out, your body jerking in time with his thrusts.

*****************

The doll feels light as a feather in Toji’s grasp as he holds her body in front of him, fucking her so hard she has tears in her eyes. But she wants this, evidenced by the look of sheer joy on her face, the pretty lilting moans floating up from her lips.

There’s something lurid about how small and helpless she looks in the mirror, as he literally uses her body like a living fleshlight, when combined with her obvious arousal. The “aphrodisiacs”, as he calls them, are working. She’s becoming more and more obsessed with having his cock inside her, with being fucked as hard as possible. This is the key to his training: making the dolls want to be fucked all the time. Making them hungry for it.

Dolls trained by Toji are in high demand among straight male buyers. After all, who among them doesn’t want a beautiful woman who constantly begs for their dick? The other trainers cater to more specialized tastes, but Toji covers a wider clientele.

Getting his dolls hooked on his dick isn’t that hard. Toji is aware that he’s attractive. He may not be “pretty” like Gojo or Geto, but he’s got the sort of body that almost everyone who likes men finds irresistible. And he’s very good at what he does. He knows exactly how to hit every sweet spot, how to make women cum repeatedly on his cock.

No, the challenge is in getting his dolls hooked on cock in general, so that their addiction to him will easily transfer to their owners. The Doll House is a classy establishment. They’re picky about their buyers. So while they may not all be handsome, at the very least, none of them are disgusting. Personal hygiene, dressing well, and having a background free of violence are all very important.

But this doll claims to be in love with Toji, says she’s had feelings for him for two years. Getting her to transfer those feelings will definitely be a tough job. But Toji can do it. His training is thorough. Looking at her glazed eyes in the mirror, he can see that she’s losing herself to the pleasure.

He rams into her, hitting a spot that makes her scream, and then she’s cumming, twitching in his grip. Her pussy is already ridiculously tight, but when she climaxes she clamps down on him, squeezing him until he fills her completely with his cum.

She’s still quivering as he pulls her off his cock and flips her around, now holding her in his arms bridal style. She curls against his chest, her face nearly hidden. “I love you, Toji.”

He carries her to the bed and covers her up, then steps out of the room. He hears voices from the dining hall, so he follows them to find Gojo and Nanami sitting at one of the tables, talking. It’s way past dinner time, so it’s no surprise that the room is empty aside from them. There’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Nanami and in front of Gojo, some sort of ice cream-cookie-brownie monstrosity that makes Toji’s teeth hurt just to look at.

Toji walks over to the table but doesn’t sit down. He looks at Gojo and says, “You’re between dolls right now, right?”

Gojo grins as he shoves a spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Yeah. My little puppy princess left yesterday. Why?” But before Toji can answer, Gojo says, “Oh right! It’s about that time, huh?”

Toji nods. “So can you come around this time tomorrow night?”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while he chews, then replies after swallowing. “I’ll be there!”

Nanami looks at both of them with disapproval, but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a drink of his coffee. He’s between dolls as well, but Toji knows better than to ask for his help.

Part of Toji’s training is getting his dolls to want cock even if it’s not his. And so, after a couple of weeks, he gets his fellow trainers to help out by fucking the doll he’s training. Nanami refused the first time Toji asked, and made it clear he would never change his mind. The others will usually do it if they’re not currently training a doll. Sukuna will regardless of whether or not he has a doll at the time, but Toji prefers not to ask him. The man is a bit unsettling even to the other trainers.

Gojo is Toji’s first pick. The man can drive women wild with a glance, and Toji’s dolls are always excited about the chance to fuck him.

After confirming the plans with Gojo, Toji returns to his room and sits down on the bed next to his sleeping doll. She’s smiling in her sleep, probably dreaming of being fucked real good. He brushes the hair from her face with one hand, wondering, far from the first time, what she could possibly love about him.

“Poor thing,” he says quietly. “You’re gonna lose this bet.”

*********************

The next morning, after breakfast, Toji gives you the slightly increased dose of aphrodisiacs. Within minutes you feel the familiar heat spreading through your body, the building urge to tear your clothes off and fling yourself into Toji’s arms.

As your mind races through different ideas for sexy shenanigans you can get into today, Toji sits down in one of the two chairs in his room and says, “I think I’m coming down with something.” For emphasis, he coughs lightly.

You look up at him in alarm. “Oh no, are you feeling sick? What’s bothering you?”

He rubs his neck. “My throat’s a little sore. I’ll be fine in a day or two. I never stay sick long. But I better not exert myself today.”

You nod, understanding what he means. No wild fucking today. You wish he’d told you this before giving you the aphrodisiac, but what’s done is done. You walk over to him. “I can just suck you off today. That would be okay, right?”

He stops you before you can drop to your knees. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna get my heart beating fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that. Well can I do anything to make you feel better? A back rub? Or if they’ll let me use the kitchen I can make you some soup or…”

He holds a hand up to stop you. “No, you don’t need to do anything. Thanks anyway. I’m just gonna get some rest.”

You watch as he climbs into bed. You resist the urge to tuck him in. Acting like a wife might overstep a boundary for him. But now you’re left standing here, incredibly horny. With no other options available, you go to the bathroom to masturbate. It feels hollow and unsatisfying without Toji there to make it interesting, but it does ease a bit of the ache.

The rest of the day is spent watching tv on low volume so as not to disturb Toji’s rest, with frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve the pressure of your arousal. Once you even sit on the floor beside Toji’s bed and pleasure yourself to the sounds of his breathing. Have you always been this desperate?

At dinner, you go to the dining hall and fetch plates for the both you and Toji. You try to find foods that would make Toji feel better while also keeping his tastes in mind. When you wake him up, he eats the dinner you brought without complaint, and seems to be feeling better. Maybe he’s not getting sick after all? Maybe he’s just tired.

After he’s finished eating, he looks at the clock, then stands up and walks to the mini fridge. “Time for your evening dose,” he says.

You look at him in confusion. “Oh, I thought I wouldn’t be taking it tonight. With you feeling bad and all.”

He brings the bottle over and hands it to you. “You can’t just stop. Part of the training is getting your body used to this.”

You hold the cold bottle in your hands. “But today was really hard on me. I wanted you so bad but I couldn’t touch you. I don’t know if I can handle more of that.”

He grins at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight. Drink up.”

“Oh, are you feeling better now?” you ask, opening the lid and downing the liquid.

“Not really,” Toji says, “but I’ve made arrangements to make sure you’re satisfied.”

What does that mean? Did he get some toys to use while he’s sick? That’s not exactly satisfying but you suppose if Toji is the one using them on you, they could be fun.

Almost immediately, you feel it. The aphrodisiacs have never hit you this fast before, or this hard. You’re suddenly feverish, your face flushing red, your skin feeling prickly. There’s a growing dampness between your legs, and you drop into the nearby chair, your arms wrapped around yourself, your thighs pressed tightly together.

“Toji… I think something’s wrong.”

He looks at you calmly. “What do you mean?” he asks, though you get the impression he knows exactly what you mean.

“I’m feeling it too much. It’s… too strong,” you mutter, your body beginning to tremble. You stand up and cross the room to him. “Please fuck me! I can’t wait any longer! You can use your fingers or… or anything!”

In your hysteria, you shove one hand under your skirt, rubbing yourself through your panties.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sick so I can’t take care of you myself, but I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” Toji says, ushering you over to the bed and sitting you down on it.

Your mind can barely register what he’s saying. “Please, Toji! It’s like I’m on fire! Please make it stop! I need your cock inside me! I need-“

There’s a knock at Toji’s door. It’s such a rare occurrence that it distracts you from your madness. Toji goes to open it, and you watch, partly in a daze, as Gojo walks in. You’ve met him many times in the dining hall. He always seems friendly, and you remember thinking, the first time you saw him, that he’s a very beautiful man. He doesn’t compare to Toji, of course, but there’s an otherworldly quality to his features that’s quite striking.

Toji throws a casual arm around the other trainer. “Gojo here is gonna look after you tonight in my place.”

Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes shining. “I’ll take real good care of you,” he says, walking towards you. “You might even like me better than Toji.”

Huh? What’s going on? Your mind is fuzzy. You look to Toji, and he gives you an approving nod. Gojo gently pushes you onto your back on the bed, then climbs on top of you. All your hazy mind can think is, “Wow, those eyes!” Is this beautiful person really going to fuck you? Toji said it’s okay. Hell, it was his idea! So it must be fine, right?

Your body is aching to be touched, to be fucked. And there’s a gorgeous man on top of you, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, kissing your neck. Ahhh, it feels so good! Your eyes slide closed as Gojo pushes your shirt up.

********************

Toji watches Gojo kiss and grope at his doll, in his bed. He’s seen this sight many times before. If not Gojo, it was one of the other trainers. And in all Toji’s years working here, he’s never once been bothered by it. After all, these women didn’t belong to him. He felt no jealousy, no possessiveness.

So why does he feel so irritated now, watching Gojo grind his still clothed body against this doll as he slowly pulls her clothes off, leaving her in nothing but panties. Gojo’s tongue on her nipple, Gojo’s fingers stroking her pussy through the fabric, the sharp little moans she’s making…. All of it irritates Toji. He’s almost definitely won the bet now, but he doesn’t feel like he’s won anything. In fact, he feels like he just lost something.

He looks away, turning his back to the scene. But just a moment later, he hears her voice.

“Wait.”

Toji turns back to look at the bed, where the doll has her hands on Gojo’s chest, pushing him back.

Gojo has stopped touching her and looks down. “Something wrong?”

She glances at Toji and then back to Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this with you. I appreciate you offering to help me out, but the only person I want is Toji.”

Gojo gives her a sultry look that would make most women buckle. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her face still flushed, her eyes still glazed. “I’m sure.”

Gojo gets up from the bed and heads for the door. He opens it, then turns back with a smile and says, “See you guys tomorrow!”

Then he’s gone, and Toji is left alone in the room with his very cute, very horny, mostly naked doll. She’s still lying in his bed, breathing hard, staring at him. “I only want you,” she says. “I’ll wait for you. I can endure this until you feel better.”

Suddenly he wants to fuck her more than he ever has before. No doll he’s trained had turned down sex with Gojo before, especially not when they were pumped full of his special “aphrodisiacs” and he’d deprived them of sex all day.

Maybe Gojo just isn’t her type? It sure didn’t seem that way when Gojo was on top of her. And with his training, she should want sex with anyone.

He walks over to the bed, his legs carrying him there as if they have a mind of their own. His cock certainly does. It’s been achingly hard all day, even when he was pretending to be asleep. Hearing her quiet moans coming from the bathroom, and even from a few feet away from him, knowing what she was doing and what she wanted from him… it was agony.

Before he even thinks his actions through, he’s got one hand on her panties, ripping them off with one yank. She gives a little cry of surprise, but her face lights up with joy as she opens her legs to him. Her pussy is glistening with arousal, waiting for him.

He doesn’t waste any time. He ignores her questions about how he’s feeling. Right now, he just needs to be completely buried inside her. So he climbs onto the bed while pulling his cock out of his pants, lifts one of her legs into the air while rolling her onto her side, and plunges into her.

As he rails her there on the bed, he can’t help thinking about the fact that it was almost Gojo doing this. Almost Gojo getting to sheath himself in this sweet, warm, wet little pussy. A pussy meant for Toji.

From this angle, he can see her face, turned sideways on the pillow. It looks like she’s crying, but it must be tears of happiness, because she’s on the edge of cumming already.

“Toji… Toji… Toji!”

Hearing her gasp out his name as her pussy desperately clenches his cock does something to him. And before long he’s shooting his load into her body, then watching it ooze out after separating from her. He’s still hard, and she’s still not satisfied. So he rolls her over to start again.

He’ll have to try something else later. Maybe a different trainer or stronger “aphrodisiacs”. But for right now, in this moment, he only wants to fuck her until she can no longer move.

Tag List:

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#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk x reader #Jjk smut

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zarvasace · 12 days

Text

And here are Dire and Madness, dark Twilight and dark Four!

Rambling and more art beneath the cut as has been standard :) only two more left to do and guys I love them

Masterpost

Dire

Dire is dark Twilight.

He and Twilight share one major trait: they are protectors. Not even a process that bastardized Sky’s kindness could take that away. By no means is Dire nice, however. He is a Twilight that has lost all control and doesn't care to regain it, because that would mean facing all he's done. Some part of Dire is aware and suffering, but he purposely buries that part.

But on the surface that he presents and identifies with, Dire lashes out at everything that causes him pain—which is a lot of things. Dire is no different from the other Darks, in that he can't stand the light and gets annoyed quickly. He doesn't often speak, and nobody is really sure how much he really understands of what's around him. He acts more like an animal than a human in a lot of ways, and is often a little more cruel than he has to be. He's unnaturally strong and quick, and his weapons of choice are his nails and teeth. He indulges his brutal urges because the alternative is thinking.

For plans that require destruction and fighting, the Darks let Dire run out first. He could probably fight an army on his own, provided that he has plenty of darkness and an enemy without too much strategy. He's powerful and extremely dangerous. Due to that, the Darks don't let him run free. They use the shackles around his wrists and neck to keep him nearby and out of maiming range. When they do let him out though (to hunt or fight or exercise or whatever), he always comes back…

Because Dire is a protector. He leans more offensive than Twilight, but Dire too knows friend from foe. He doesn't always care, but Dire has sorted the other Darks as “friend” in his head, and he won't let anything hurt them except for themselves, if he can. He's particularly fond of Madness and Nothing, and has been known to grab them and not let them go, even when they start biting.

Dire’s design pulls a lot from the fever dream in Twilight Princess: gray skin, blank eyes. He has longer, more matted hair than Twilight. His claws are wicked sharp, and he wears tattered clothes without shoes. His wolf pelt is the softest thing about him, and it really should be washed. His markings are a bit more dramatic than Twilight’s, extending down his cheeks and arms and legs.

Despite the markings, Dire does not have an alternate form like Twilight. Well, he might, but he was never cursed the same way, and this technically is his dark world form. Some combination of magic might give him the ability to shapeshift, but he doesn't need it. He's bestial as it is.

Madness

Madness is dark Four! There is one big question here: is Madness the same person as Shadow from the manga?

Yes and no! Madness and Shadow do not exist at the same time as separate individuals. They were both made from Four’s darkness, but for different purposes. Shadow really did die when he smashed the mirror, and this isn't exactly a second chance… but it might be. Think of it like this: that body is a computer. Shadow was an operating system there, logging away memories and performing programs. Madness is on the same computer, but is a different operating system (a weaker one, really). However, those memories and personality from Shadow still exist, buried and only subconsciously influencing Madness’s behavior. They act eerily alike sometimes, not that anyone but Four would notice. Perhaps someday, Shadow’s OS will break through and become dominant, but even if he did, he wouldn't be the same. Madness would still be there.

“Still rivers run deep”—to me, this is very much Four. One body, four colors; a deep knowledge of his chosen trade; a rather serious demeanor with a lot of variety and thoughts; plans and ideas backed up with a combination of emotion and logic. He's balanced. In contrast, Madness is a “fast river running shallowly,” an unbalanced amalgamation of too much, all at once, a broad variety with little substance.

Madness is a little… unhinged. He's clearly smart, but he speaks in roundabout ways, making connections that don't exist or are too convoluted for anyone to follow. He stares into the distance a lot, and can be quite unnerving if you try to notice how often he blinks (rarely). Nobody can really decide how much of his behavior is on purpose or just how he is. When let loose, Madness shows unparalleled capacity for complex plans, but he doesn't always know how to hold back and often goes overboard. He'll beat that dead horse, and bomb those charred ruins, and smash that fallen vase… You get the picture.

A lot of these Darks have an odd magical power, and Madness’s is one of the more prominent ones. With a touch, he can attempt to bury a bit of his power in the mind of a sentient being (human, Rito, Zora, Minish, etc) and turn them into a thrall. While a being is a thrall, their eyes turn red and their consciousness goes to sleep. Madness can give them mental commands, and they technically work under his processing power and not their own, so no matter how vague the commands are, they do what he means them to do. Madness can also jump into thralls’ heads to pilot them specifically, seeing from their eyes and speaking from their mouth. He doesn't magically know everything about the thrall, though, so he still has to try to impersonate, and that doesn't usually work well. While he pilots, Madness is still technically in his body, so he will say out loud anything he's commanding the thrall to say, which limits his opportunities to trick the others.

Without commands, the thralls sit in still silence, which means that over extended periods of time, Madness does have to worry about food and rest for them. The more thralls he has, the less effective he is, because his focus is split, even if he isn't directly piloting more than one person at a time. If he lets someone go even for a moment, the connection is severed entirely. He absolutely refuses to use any thralls in a combat scenario, because he feels their pain, even though it's fainter when he isn’t directly piloting. He uses thralls instead to gather information, start rumors, purchase/steal supplies, and often just cause chaos.

Madness is actually rather genre-aware. He knows that their schemes are destined to ultimately fail, because the Darks are the “bad guys” and they will lose. As such, he's hedging his bets and logging away information for an inevitable betrayal to the Lights. He does not intend to be on the losing side when it gets down to it. He has half-baked plans to snatch a few of the other Darks and take them with him, too. Madness absolutely does not take any sort of leadership role, which means that he doesn't feel any responsibility to rein in Nothing, making him Nothing’s favorite. Madness also spends time hanging out with Dire, who he thinks understands more than he lets on. Those two would be his first choices, and he thinks Nothing might know that. (This is not at all related to the fact that Shadow’s memories of betrayal are both sweet and bitter.)

Madness does not get along well with Agony—Madness prefers chaos and mind games over Agony’s stab-first approach. He purposely annoys everyone else. Along with Depth and Shackle, Madness is one of the few Darks who can pass as human, so he's been on a few excursions into towns or groups, and he likes emphasizing his unnerving traits. He'll use a sword if he has to, but prefers bombs and words. He doesn't have any powers from Shadow (shapeshifting, stretchiness, whatever else), but he is very sensitive to light, like most of the Darks.

Madness casts a wide net, putting on an air of randomness with a sprinkle of insanity for flavor. He connects more dots than he appears to, though, and has a few unexpected urges toward the light. Make no mistake, though, he is a Dark, and he has no intention of doing good just to do good. His ultimate goal is to survive the Dark Chain’s fall, and beyond that… traveling? Therapy? Living at home with people he doesn't hate? (Why does he feel an emotional connection to his Light? Why does he want to protect him? Why does he want to exercise his freedom? Why does it feel like he's running out of time until—)

#my art #lu z darks au #linked universe #sorry for the low contrast dire there #had a hard time with some of these colors #ugh tumblr messws up my posts

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