#and I was doing nothing else except watching that show no distractions

[thesearchforbluejello]

I fundamentally do not understand this show. The Dominion War was RIGHT THERE. Like, RIGHT. THERE. Why did we need some whack Romulus-blew-up backstory when the federation was already decimated by the war?? A follow up on the fallout of that and how the ceding of territory, the betrayal by allies, and the xenophobia of threats from both within and outside would have been SO much more interesting to me.

And they're so busy pulling half developed plotlines out of thin air that they're not even pounding in their anchor points for it all. Like, case in point, Jay looking for Icheb's cortical node. SEVEN HAS IT. IT IS LITERALLY IN SEVEN'S FUCKING HEAD. Like, okay fine easter egg? Maybe? But a major plot point isn't exactly an Easter egg?? Like obviously Beyer knows a shitload about Voyager, so at least one of them must be aware of that, so I assume it's implied... but not everyone has seen every Trek and that is from one specific Voyager episode, and Seven had the perfect opportunity to rub that in Jay's face... And are we not going to talk about Seven becoming a Ranger which is HUGELY antithetical to where she was at in Voyager? Because the fact that she became an individual on a ship that was what, 1/3 Maquis? Um, that's a super fucking important fact? Love that for her, but Christ alive nail. these. plot points. home.

idk I guess these two are nitpicks, but I have so many more and just don't feel like writing a novel expounding upon what I perceive as their many (MANY) failures in writing this show. But this show is just full of those moments and I don't understand their choices. Easter eggs only work when there's actually something semi coherent to hide them in (hence why most of M*rvel's fail nowadays, just saying). This feels almost as incoherent as Renegades, and I am SOOOOO very sorry to be actually saying that because woooooof that is not a compliment. Like... it's the Romulans, it's the androids, it's the Borg. It feels like whatever unholy combination is happening with Applebee's and iHop right now. Like... Okay I guess? But it's just a weird combination and very unnecessary. Just fucking pick one and go from there.

I do however need like a lot more ex-Borg bonding that was such a good moment okay thanks bye

[dreaisgrayte]

Hello there, I hope your day is going well. I have a nsfw oneshot request for Mitsuri from KNY if that’s okay. (Preferably female reader)

HEAR ME OUT. Okay so I’ve seen a lot of fanfiction where Mitsuri is a bottom, but I can’t get Soft Dom Mitsuri out of my head- like you know she’s gonna be worshipping the readers body and praising her throughout everything and AHHHH I just know the aftercare is heavenly. (and also let’s just say strap-ons exist in her universe)

*ahem* Anyways, take as much time as you want on this and have a wonderful day mate!

ABSOLUTELY, AMEN, AHHHHHHHHHH (was screaming the whole time I wrote this) Soft Dom Mitsuri lives rent-free in my head. I want to live in this story >:( Why can't I ever get izakied into a story????? DAMN IT Sorry, this took a little longer than I had intended, I was working then a bunch of things happened to where my pregnant cat had three beautiful kittens which I've been co-parenting (since she's a stray and they're outside...which I so badly want to take them inside and cuddle them so nothing happens) Also! The next anime convention I attend, I will be cosplaying Mitsuri! So I'm BEYOND excited about that!! Thank you, annon!!!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus, face sitting, strap-on, Mitsuri has a thing for fucking reader with her new toy, body worship, cowgirl, Mitsuri is skilled ;) , wholesome aftercare

Word Count: 3.3k

A Secret Technique | Mitsuri Kanroji x fem!reader

As always, Mitsuri Kanroji was grinning ear to ear, the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink. She was captivating, a distraction to the trick you were trying to show her. Ever since you’d met the love Hashira her flexibility had always vexed you. Her ability to twist and contort mid-air was admirable, to say the least. “Is this what you were so excited to show me?” She inquires, walking around your attempt at doing the splits. She hums, a giggle bubbling out when you wince as she pushes on your ankle. “You’re super close YN! We can practice together if you want?” She pops up in front of you, hands clasped together with that fucking adorable excited smile she always wore. 

You tilt your head, closing your legs to wrap them into a sitting position. “Uh, sure.” A stupid smile tugs your lips upward as she squeals, sitting down gracefully in front of you. 

She spreads her legs easily to each side of her hips, her green socks pulling down on her thighs. You gulp as your gaze revels in the plush pink of her skin. Thank the gods her black skirt dips down to cover in between her legs or you’d have a hard time listening to anything else except your heartbeat. “Open your legs,” Mitsuri starts. You choke out a laugh, looking up expecting to see her playful expression, instead, you’re met with a more hungry emotion crossing her face. You do as you’re told, pushing them apart and watching with tensed breath as Mitsuri scoots closer to you. 

She delicately touches the muscle of your upper outer thigh. You gasp as her hand travels down the length of your leg and she makes steady eye contact with you. Goosebumps are erupting down your body as if your flushed cheeks weren’t enough of an indicator of how you were truly feeling. “You know YN,” She lets her gaze drop to where her fingers are tantalizingly traversing their way back up your leg. “I find that using a secret technique helps out immensely when it comes to stretching out.” Mitsuri professes, her electric green eyes flickering up to meet yours. 

A secret technique? You’d been friends with the love Hashira for a while now and she’d never once mentioned a secret technique to you. Here you were, thinking that there were no secrets between you two. Obviously, you were too blinded by how blissful every moment spent with her felt. “Oh, don’t feel pressured to tell me if it’s such a secret or something I wouldn’t want to-”

“YN,” Mitsuri’s gentle hands grab your face, mushing your cheeks to get you to stop talking. “You’re so cute when you start overthinking, but I’m going to need your express consent for what comes next.” The way she’s gazing into your eyes nearly makes your body go numb. How could one person be so perfect? 

She lets go of your face, placing her hands back on your thighs, this time with a little more command of where she grabs. You glance down, worried she might feel how erratic your pulse is through your skin. Between your thighs was a vortex of neediness, pleading with your brain to be fucked by the woman in front of you. Every time she got near your cunt, things got a little complicated inside your body. Hopefully, this secret technique would require you to climb a mountain far away from your growing desire. “I trust you Mitsuri, you can do anything you want.” 

Her lips twitch in a grin, but before you have any time to wonder why in the hell she was bracing your feet against hers, she pulls your thighs against hers – and swiftly kisses your lips. You groan at the burning sensation of your body feeling like it’s being torn apart, but as you lick your lips you can taste the sweet honey Mitsuri had eaten earlier. Somehow, it’s even sweeter than when you shared in the delicacy. Your fingertips brush against the tender skin of your lips, a stuttering breath blowing out of your mouth. “Do you understand what I mean now?” She inquires, letting your legs return to a less painful stretch. You gulp, blinking up to meet her gaze. 

You feel hazy, your skin is burning – but in the best way possible. “Not really, but I’d like to do more of that,” You putter out, swinging yourself into a kneeling position. Mitsuri giggles, doing the same, walking over to you on her knees. She smiles gently grabbing your hands.

Her uniform leaves little to the imagination and you are looking… disrespectfully. Have you always felt this draw toward Mitsuri? You’d assumed it was the desire to be her friend – and while that’s been enjoyable – you can’t help but wonder if you had an underlying motive for getting so close to her. “You do understand the secret technique is…sex, right?” Your eyes widen as you jerk your head to take in the expression on her face – completely serious. Whatever your motives were, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was pressing your lips into hers, so that’s what you do. Her fingers card through your hair, humming in delight as your hand finds her chest, tracing the curve of her cleavage. 

Your heart is beating like crazy as your chest swells with something akin to excitement. To think this was how you were spending your day. Kissing Mitsuri was like praying to a shrine and the gods blessing you with eternal riches and splendor. The way her plush lips formed against yours, trailing kisses down your cheek and neck, surely this is the paradise sought after. 

Mitsuri seemingly knew all the sensitive parts of your body – you weren’t sure if this was because you were both women, but as a Hashira Mitsuri knew the inner workings of how the body reacts. She was damn good at putting that knowledge into practice. Her mouth works against yours, lips slightly parting allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth. The kiss was passionate, Mitsuri guiding you all the way onto your back. You’re both panting as she hovers above you. “Have you ever been with a woman before?” She inquires, looping her leg over your waist. She now sits on top of you and fuck was it a view. Her cheeks are red, her hair messy in parts, her chest heaving, and her warmth was spreading all over your body. 

There was a time when you had a mission in the entertainment district and having haven in one of the tea houses, you were alone with a gaggle of courtesans who were happy enough to show you how fun it could be to share intimacy with the same sex. One of them spoke of having a certain tool able to render men practically obsolete if you were into that sort of thing. You did think some men could be the absolute worst, but being evil wasn’t in their core, that much you could tell. The world can twist and confine anyone into becoming something they’re not. Just like demons, not all of them asked to be that way, yet the corps eradicated all demonic creatures. Needless to say, the company of men would not be forgotten by you, but if the only person you ever laid with again was Mitsuri – you’d be fine with that. “Yes, more than one.” Mitsuri’s eyes widen, then her face slowly curls into a grin. 

She places the palm of her hand flush against your chest. “Then you won’t have a problem,” She moves up your body, lifting her skirt up. Your breath catches when you realize her pussy was on you this whole time. Your gaze flits up to meet hers. “Stick your tongue out, darling. I’m going to test just how much you know.” She fluffs her skirt out over your head, hovering above your mouth with her bare cunt. Her thighs muffle any sounds from the outside world but amplify your beating pulse. Gods this was going to kill you – but what a way to go. 

Your tongue laps at her folds, enjoying the way you can feel her shiver above you. Her arousal was heady but a sweet tanginess floods into your mouth. Of course Mitsuri Kanroji had a delicious pussy. Your hands wrap around her thighs, locking her into position as you taste her again and again. You lift your skull off the ground to suck on her puffy clit, swirling your tongue around it with precision. Her thighs shake and then she’s pushing your head back down by sitting on your face. You happily make work of her clit, using the flat of your tongue to glide through her slick folds. Your face is soaking, a mixture of drool, sweat, and arousal coating your skin. The sounds you can hear are the sucking and slurping of a job well done for Mitsuri lets out a cry loud enough for you to hear. Her fingers are suddenly intertwined in your hair, pulling on the strands. A shiver runs through you as you smack your mouth against her pink pussy. Her muscles tense and she shutters, shaking as she cums all over your face. 

Mitsuri swings her leg over your face, a delightful moan rumbling from her chest. “I only wish you could’ve seen what a perfect job you did. You should’ve warned me about how good you are at eating pussy,” She presses the heel of her hand into her forehead as she laughs. You join in, sitting up to get a better look at her. 

She’s blushing, but the main difference you take note of is how her uniform is pulled open, revealing her perfect breasts. It sends a spike of want through your chest. She notices you gawking and squeaks. She shyly turns her back. “What are you doing? I want to see.” You reach out to grab her shoulder but she tosses a glare at you instead. 

You’re shocked. What happened? Gods, did you mess up somehow? You’re about to ask her what’s going on when she turns around, an adorable pout present on her face this time. “It’s not fair YN, you’ve gotten to see all of me and I haven’t seen more of your, frankly, gorgeously perfect body.” She twiddles her fingers together, nervously looking into your eyes. You can’t help but grin widely and Mitsuri slaps your shoulder. 

“You can’t be serious, you’re the one perfect thing in this world.” You exclaim, watching as she shakes her head.

“Well, that’s fine because your body is like a goddess’. In fact…” She drags a hand down your body, stopping at the hem of your skirt. “I think it’s about time I reward you for doing such a good job.” You bashfully watch her unbuckle your belt and pull it out of the loops slowly enough to drive you mad. She tosses it to the side with a smirk, pulling your skirt down your thighs. Her eyes meet yours. “Sit down,” She instructs, pushing at your chest until you’re in a laying position yet again. Your skirt is yanked off the rest of the way and there’s a long beat of silence. You lift your head to peek at Mitsuri who is gazing down at you lovingly. “YN, you’re so beautiful, may I?” She nods to the apex of your thighs, a giddiness in her voice. You nod and she wastes no time in spreading your knees apart. “You’re so wet already.” She giggles, reaching out to stroke some of your arousal that had accumulated from eating this gorgeous woman’s pussy. You hiss as her fingers dip into you, spreading the slick around until she slips inside your entrance – smiling the whole time. “Your pussy is such a pretty color YN, you’re doing such a good job for me.” She praises, sending a wave of a gooey feeling through you. 

Mitsuri braces herself on your knee, which is bent upward, as she works her fingers inside of you. Her gaze switches between observing your reaction to her hooking her fingers or swiping at a sensitive spot, to watching her fingers get eaten up by your greedy cunt. It made her thighs clench together watching how well you took her fingers. You were perfect and Mitsuri couldn’t think of anyone better to experiment with her new toy than you. 

Your hands are clenched, jerking your hips upward onto her fingers. She chuckles lowly, taking in how cute you were when you were desperately chasing your climax. She uses her free hand to rub your clit in small circles, edging you closer to orgasm. Mitsuri was curious how you would look and how you’d sound after she made you cum. You were certainly moaning up a storm as you bucked against her. You whimper and then groan as she works your clit directly. “That’s it, my pretty girl, you can cum now.” Her fingers are pumping in and out, overstimulating you as you careen off your crest of pleasure. Your throat is scratchy as you scream out, trembling against her gentle, yet relentless,  touch. The world is full of bright colors – a brilliant spectrum of satisfaction. 

As you try to catch your breath Mitsuri enjoys watching your body still shudder in waves of your previous orgasm. “YN…” She plays with a strand of your hair, curling it around her fingers with an absentminded expression. Your attention is on her – as if you could focus on anything else. “A little while ago I had to go to the swordsmith village and while I was there I got talking with a special smith. She has a shop that creates amazing things and I’d like to share with you what I bought there,” Her eyes gleam with an excited glitter. 

You raise a brow, sitting up from the floor. “I’d love that.” You exclaim, following Mitsuri into a standing position. She grabs your hand and leads you through the halls of her manor until she stops in front of what you remember to be her bedroom door. Your thighs are sticky and as you walk into the room Mitsuri rummages through a cupboard. You peer at her room, but you don’t have much time to admire how it’s decorated because Mitsuri drops her skirt and removes the rest of her clothing. Your pussy throbs with desire watching her muscular yet curvy body move around the room. 

She gathers what looks like a belt in her hand. “YN, my sweet, I’m going to need you to undress and get on your knees.” She chirps, fastening the belt around her thighs and waist. You hesitate for a moment, then scurry to follow her orders. Once you’re on your knees she turns around with lust-filled eyes. Your eyes travel down her body, stopping briefly to hungrily gaze at her tits, but something catches your attention. 

Attached to the belt she had latched around herself is a long pink phallic-shaped apparatus. Your lips part, your heart ramming against your ribcage as you look back into Mitsuri’s eyes.  “Well? Open your mouth, sweetheart.” You do as you are told, the image of Mitsuri with a cock causing you to reach down in between your thighs. You play with your sensitive and puffy clit, moaning as Mitsuri hits the cock against your face. “Mmm, you’re so pretty YN, so pretty and perfect for me. You make me so horny.” Then she places the tip against your lips, groaning softly as the head pushes into your mouth. “Gods, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” She moves her cock in your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “That's it, choke on my cock,” She huffs, throwing her head back. Spit dribbles down your chin as the surprisingly soft cock rubs against the corners of your mouth. You abuse your clit, hungry for a crest. This was so hot, you would never forget this in all of your life. 

Mitsuri takes note of how you play with your clit while sucking on her length. Her mouth twitches up in a grin. “Ah, hungry for more?” She pops the tip out of your mouth and rests the wet toy against your cheek as you pant, dazed eyes pleading with her. “Lay on the bed with your gorgeous pussy in the air.” 

On your back, legs hooked around Mitsuri’s arms, she pushes her cock inside of you after spitting on your pussy. Your eyes roll back as she thrusts into you, cooing about how you’re so good, so perfect, you’re doing so well. You ball the sheets in your fists, moans gasping out of your throat. “Ah, ngh, please m’gonna, oohngh,” Your tits are bouncing up and down, Mitsuri can’t look away. Hearing your noises of pleasure and seeing how you squirm under her, it was all so perfect. 

She wanted to see you on top of her, cum all over her cock. “One second baby,” With how strong Mitsuri is she’s able to pick you up, fucking you still, then flips herself to be laying on the bed. She gasps as your weight settles on her, riding her like a good girl. “Fuck,” She hisses, digging her nails into your thighs, you play with your tits as you bounce on her cock. 

Your nipples are bruises, a splendor of painful pleasure radiating through your body. “Feels s’good,” You hum, but Mitsuri hasn’t had enough yet. She presses the pad of her thumb against your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. 

“Does it? You’re taking it so well,” She coos, excitedly watching you shudder in ecstasy from her musings on your clit. “Good girl,”

Her words send shocks of electricity coursing your veins like your very blood. “Gods, Mitsuri, m’gonna,” You plant your palms on her stomach, slapping your ass against her thighs. You hang your head while panting crazily. As Mitsuri stimulates your clit and pussy the cool magma washes over you as you jerk her cock deep inside of you. You cum hard all over her, laying down against her chest, breath rapid. 

She’s breathing hard too, but she pets your head, kissing your forehead. “You’re so perfect YN,” You giggle against her skin, lifting your head to look her in the eyes. 

She smiles sweetly back, pressing her forehead against yours. “What a secret technique,” Mitsuri blushes and laughs as she looks away. 

“Yeah, not my best pick-up line.” You shake your head and nuzzle against her again. 

“I thought it was great.” You mumble. Mitsuri shifts out from under you, sliding her cock out of you as she does. You pout with the empty sensation. 

She stands up and smiles down at you. “I’ll be right back.” Mitsuri returns a couple of minutes later with a steamed towel and a plate full of honey butter toast. She sets the plate next to you and lifts your leg to clean your thighs and slick cunt. You moan lightly at the warm sensation and her eyes darken for a second. “Careful you whore,” She slaps your ass with a playful grin. You hum, shoving toast into your mouth with careless hunger. Mitsuri tosses the towel to the floor, sitting down gently next to you. “Maybe next time I can teach you-”

“Another secret technique?” You interrupt, a few crumbs of toast spitting out of your mouth. She chuckles, wiping away the slight mess on your mouth with her thumb. 

Mitsuri brings her finger to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste the honey. “Mhm,” She gazes at you like you’re the sweet treat. 

You grin, kicking your feet in the air. “Yes please,” 

[lassieposting]

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

[deafsignifcantother]

new awlins library

♥ summary: just a cute little thing of alastor liking a deaf librarian yay ♥ relationships: human alastor x deaf reader ♥ word count: 1.1k ♥ notes: silly alastor, alastor pining, reader is shy and doesn't interact with people, reader has a crush on him too lowkey, customer favoritism ong

Alastor watched from afar, his eyes peaking out from over his book.

You were replacing the flowers in the vase on the front desk of your library. Your hands moved delicately, putting each flower in one by one. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the sentences before him, his pupils couldn't resist dilating at the sight of you.

He moved chairs so you weren't in his view anymore.

After finishing your task, you turned, and your eyes scanned the lobby to see what other decorations you needed to fix. Only for a second were you oblivious about his sudden seating change, but when your eyes landed on him, you smiled softly. The back of his head was not as well brushed as the front, and when you had greeted him that morning, you noticed how tired he looked. The time was 6am, right when you opened. He waited outside the door in the cold for the moment you'd allow him in. So then he sat, half-asleep and very distracted, trying to spend as much time in your presence before starting his daily routine. He had started doing this frequently, to the point where you began placing a black coffee by the table he'd position himself and scurrying off before he could try to return it. The first time he took a gulp of your drinks, he realized how easily you could have gotten away with poisoning him. How alluring, he thought to himself with a smile.

Obviously, you would never poison him. You loved having him around; he was a valued customer with an attractive face. He only ever picked up books from the French section, and when you realized he was running out of stories to read, you ordered a bunch of new ones. When he first noticed this, he smiled and eyed the new batch.

You don't show this particular interest to any other customer; you're pretty shy, hesitant, and withdrawn—the other employees are the ones who interact with them. There's a language barrier between you and seemingly everybody else. Besides paper and pen, you are considered a 'struggle' to communicate with, and you know there's nothing you can do to prevent that.

It's just the way things are. But Alastor actually puts in effort to interact with you, waiting outside the library every time you have a morning shift.

✣

You pick a French book from the shelf that is obviously out of place. Nobody touches the French books except him, but is this from another person? Honestly, you feel it's more likely he put it there just to mess with you. You smile, inspecting the cover and the pages inside.

A gloved hand reaches for the book, and your eyes follow the hand up to that same handsome, smiling man. His eyes twinkle with mischief, his mouth open in a silent laugh.

He tucks the book into his armpit. "Goodness me, I must have put it in the wrong section!"

In an instant, your heart starts beating faster than ever. Stuck in place with your eyes wide, Alastor stares at you with a bit of surprise. His eyes dart all around your face, and as he tries to come up with an explanation for why you're looking at him with such shock. Did he scare you? Do you... recognize him from somewhere?

But no, your heart is racing, and your mind is scrambling to process that a man here knows sign language. He has an accent, sure; he signs up high on his body, but with how unsure his sentences are, you know he needs to gain experience. He signs and is quite a loyal consumer; he's almost like the man of your dreams.

"No, no, no, it's alright." You sign with one hand before taking the book from his arm, and you place it on top of the others in your other hand. "Don't even worry about it."

"I do insist." His sign lasted more than a few movements. And then he puts his hand in front of you for you to place the book into. Truthfully, for a slight second, you considered placing your hand into his.

Your brain battles between continuing your work or indulging in this man. With an eyebrow raised, his eyes study you in a hard stare. You don't give in to his command and instead stand your ground, eyeing him back. The both of you are stuck with locked eyes. He pulls his hand back when he notices that you aren't budging.

"Now that I think about it," he starts, "I'd much appreciate it if you showed me where the correct section is!"

He's been in the French section many times.

You smile at him, a lopsided smile of adoration; there's no subtlety to whatever interest he has. So you bow your head sarcastically and turn away from him, walking past the shelves. He follows you with his hands tucked behind his back. He can't see the widening smile on your face and how you're practicing hiding it. He's rather charming, you can admit.

Not even checking behind you to see if he's following, you approach the correct section and place the book where it is meant to be. He raises his eyebrows when you glance up at him and try not to give in to his contagious, eccentrically bright smile.

"Fantastic, thank you!"

And again, the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to move. You want him to continue talking, to whisk you away from your job. He's waiting for you to ask his name or something else about him.

But you use both of your hands to hold the books in your hand against your chest.

Fine. He starts pondering his next move: does he end this interaction for today, or would it be better if he took a step closer to you?

He can't stop his eyes from glancing down at the joyous smile on your lips. He's making you smile; that's good. Perhaps that will be all for now.

He dips his head and presses a hand to his chest. You watch him and the way a strand of his hair falls into his face. His brown eyes land on yours. "And I will let you get back to your work."

You nod, your foot moving away from him before you pause. Your eyes go from his beautiful eyes to the floor with shyness. With a bow of your head, you begin to walk away, returning to your previous task. He straightens his spine and adjusts his sleeve before turning away.

Quite a success. What's next? He may try putting an English book in the French section. Or should he hide the books all around the library?

His everlasting smile grows at the thought. He's so excited to tell his mother about the interaction he's finally had. She's heard quite a lot about you.

[oharaslove]

La Playlist

summary: You work at a Blockbuster store in Nueva York. Every day is the same, you daydreaming about a guy to come in and sweep you off your feet. To make you his. Will today be any different?

word count: 5k

tags: Miguel x fem!reader, 90's/early 2000's AU

warnings: PinV, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!), oral f! receiving. Let me know if there is something else!

song:

It was just another day in this awful city, Nueva York. 

Like always, you woke up thanks to your alarm, went to the bathroom, did your routine, and had breakfast, before getting ready for your job. But not as any other day, you decided to dress cute today, show your figure, look nice. You worked at a Blockbuster, nothing interesting. Not a single man worthy of your attention ever crossed the doors of the store, but something was telling you that today was going to be different. 

You picked your best outfit, did your make up and hair and off you were, trying to get on time without messing up your appearance. You were the only working the opening shift, the mornings always being slow, and today wasn’t the exception. 

Upon arriving you opened the store and got to work, placing the movies that were returned the previous day on their respective shelves. Once the work was done, you checked the notebook with the movies already on rent and the dates that they were supposed to be returned. 

After staring at it for like half an hour you huffed. Can’t this day become any more boring? People came and went on the street, some glancing inside, but never coming in. It wasn’t like they were your knight in shining armor. None of the men walking in front of the glass seemed to catch your eye. Just when I dressed myself up. What a waste of time

You continued staring out the window for a couple minutes, elbow on the counter in front of you, with your chin resting on the palm of your hand. 

The summer sun was beginning to enter the store, hitting your face lightly. The warmth spread through your body, lulling you to sleep. Trying to stay awake, you grabbed your mp3, plugged your headphones and began listening to music: La Playlist by Emilia Mernes blasting through your ears making you forget about the world around you. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the music. You hummed to the rhythm, losing yourself into it, almost missing the ring of the bell of the door, signalling someone coming in. Almost

That split second could have been the biggest mistake of your life. 

Opening your eyes, you expected a normal client, you know, a group of teenagers looking for something fun to watch, a nerd searching for his superhero movies or a woman trying to find a romcom capable of tearing her away from her troubled/awful love life. 

What you did not expect was a Greek god entering through that door. 

The tall man, with perfect tan skin and brown locks strolled into the store with his hands on his front pockets. He was wearing a black tank top on top of a white one with navy blue jeans. The sun hit his skin perfectly, it reflecting on his huge arms, accentuating his veins. 

The longer you looked at him, the more perfect he was. His face was probably sculpted by all the gods combined, creating a perfect structure. High and sharp cheekbones, a beautiful nose and really kissable lips. 

The guy nodded your way, acknowledging you, but you were too distracted to notice, daydreaming about all the things you would love him to do to you. The brunette turned his back to you, giving you a perfect view of his huge shoulders, his body built like an inverted triangle. 

Oh, how you wished he could lift you up so you could wrap your legs on his tiny waist

You continued admiring him from afar, not even realizing you were biting your lip until you tasted blood. Pull yourself together girl, you thought. It is not everyday that you see a man like this. Time to shine.

Pulling yourself off the counter you tried to fix yourself, tidying your hair, smoothing your top and making sure your skirt was presentable. You took a deep breath, calming yourself, preparing for what you were about to do. You couldn’t mess this up.

You walked silently behind him, aiming not to startle him. He was in the science fiction section. Interesting. He didn’t strike you as the nerd type, but whatever. Your plan wasn’t to engage in conversation, but something else. Something more physical. 

Stopping just a few centimeters away from him you couldn’t decide how to call his attention. Should you touch his shoulder? Or was that too much. You didn’t want to scare him off. You decided to go with a softer approach. 

You cleared your throat lightly, catching his attention. 

The man turned his neck towards you, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face. Oh.

“I was wondering when you were going to come and say hi” he said, the smirk never leaving his face. 

His voice was smooth and low, turning your legs into jelly. He turned his whole body towards you, crossing his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. Damn, how you wish you could wrap your hands around them and squeeze them.

“Darling?” he asked, staring right into you. 

“Oh, I-” you said startled. You didn’t think you were staring at him for that long for him to notice. 

In that moment, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard erupted from his mouth. His laugh was like a breath of fresh air. His lips curled upwards, showing his white teeth. You could feel yourself growing hot. Your cheeks burning, your ears, and other parts too, but for entirely different reasons. 

“Ay nena,” he began, after calming down. “You are so adorable.”

He reached forward, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to calm yourself down and make sense of what he was doing to you. When you opened them back again, his eyes bore into you, a smirk back in his lips. He knew you were his. He had you just where he wanted, and you would let him do anything to you. Anything.

He stepped towards you, making you step back, before he used his other hand to grab your waist, keeping you in place, close to his body.

“Uh uh uh” he taunted. “Don’t run away from me. It is too late for that now.”

You gulped. Oh, the things his voice was doing to you, and he could tell.

His touch was burning you. The skin to skin contact becoming too much, but at the same time not enough. You needed him somewhere else, somewhere you couldn’t reach properly, not even alone in your bedroom, with no one but yourself and your running mind. 

You knew he would make you see colors, but you needed to feel it, to sense it. You needed him to touch you, more than he was touching you now. 

He inched his face closer, the air coming out of his barely open mouth hitting your face. The cologne he was wearing entering your system, like a drug, making you more obsessed of what you already were. 

He stared down at you, running his eyes through your face, enjoying the reaction, the control, he had on you. You couldn’t help but do the same, staring at him through your half lidded eyes, drinking him in, inhaling him, feeling his chest touch yours with every breath he took. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, the temperature rising by the second. If neither of you took it to the next level, you feared you could explode. 

The man moved the hand that was holding your chin to grasp your neck lightly, leaving his thumb free to run it across your skin. Beginning on your pulse point of your neck, pressing lightly, making a whimper escape your lips, despite your efforts of keeping it in. 

His lips curled up, enjoying every little reaction he coaxed out of you. His thumb continued exploring your skin, caressing your cheek and continuing on your bottom lip. His eyes were focused on the trace of his finger, amazed at how your saliva coated his thumb. 

The teasing was becoming unbearable, making you act. Gaining courage you grabbed his right wrist, keeping his hand close to your mouth, while licking his thumb, before sucking it between your lips. 

For a split second, his smirk fell off his face, eyes opening, amazed and surprised by your actions. His eyes became hungry, darkening. His left hand grasped your waist harder, squeezing your flesh.

You continued sucking his thumb, moving your tongue along it, trying to not break eye contact, daring him to do the next move. 

The thrill of getting caught made the situation so much hotter, your mind running with all the places he could take you in, the you *wish* he would take you in. 

The man pressed his thumb into your tongue, catching you off guard, making you moan around him, closing your eyes. He used his thumb and index finger to grab your tongue and pull it out of your mouth lightly before moving forward and clashing his lips with yours. 

The kiss was messy, hungry, hot. Teeth clashing against teeth, lips moving against lips, tongues fighting for dominance. You moaned into his mouth, the taste of him being exactly how you imagined. 

He took the opportunity to enter your mouth, exploring it. His hands moved to your head, keeping it in place. One of his hands was on your neck, putting pressure lightly while the other played with your hair. 

Your mind became fussy, the intensity of the kiss pushing all the thoughts out of your head, the only thing on your brain was **him**. Your hands started to wonder, starting at his chest, down to his tone abs and onto his head, playing with his perfect brown locks. 

You pressed your body against him, your tits against his firm chest. The action making him moan in your mouth, making you smile. 

His hand on your head grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you backwards, away from his mouth lightly. You both were breathing heavily against each other, mouths still at each other’s reach. Your eyes were closed, not daring to open them, hoping this was only the beginning. 

“Nena,” he said, breathlessly. 

“Mmm”

“Look at me,” he demanded. 

Opening your eyes slowly you were met with his. His hair was messy, thanks to you playing with it, his mouth merely centimeters away from you, looking plump from all the kissing.

You saw his mouth moving, clearly talking to you, but you were too dazed. 

He pulled at your hair, making you look straight into his eyes. 

“Sweetheart”

“Mmm”

“I said,” he continued. “Is there a better place for us to continue? I would take you right here, but I fear that there are a lot of prying eyes, and I want you all to myself.”

You looked at him with an open mouth, losing the ability to speak. *He wanted to continue*. He looked at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Did the baby lose the ability to speak?” he mocked.

“I-” you gulped, your mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. “The-there is a backroom.”

“Good girl.” he smiled. “Show me.”

You nodded at the best of your ability with his grip on your hair. He let you go. The second his touch left your body you missed it, feeling empty. 

You stepped back, your hands falling from his chest. Staring at his hungry eyes you could see he was becoming impatient, and so were you.

Carefully, you grabbed his right hand, tugging it towards you, signalling him to follow you. You walked towards the backroom, a million thoughts running through your mind. 

You were fucked, you were so fucked. If another client entered those doors and caught you two in this situation, you were fucked. You would lose your job, and probably no other job would take you. But, honestly? Who the fuck cares? This was a once in a lifetime chance.

You had a Greek god behind you, who was willing to make you feel like never before. Among those thoughts were the things he could do to you. Whatever he did, you knew he was going to be good. 

You reached the backroom closed door. You put your free hand on it, and looked back at him, making sure he was still there, despite feeling his warmth in the palm of your hand. You locked eyes with the guy, before looking past him to the front door, the fear of getting caught still on you back of your mind. 

“Hey,” he said, snapping you out of your thoughts, your eyes staring back at him. “We are fine. I am going to take care of you.”

You wanted to believe him, oh so desperately. You were ready to throw yourself in his arms. The way he affirmed that statement making you feel safe, taken care of. 

You smile shyly before nodding and making the final push on the door, opening it. 

He let go of your hand, grabbing your waist and urging you into the small room, hurrying into himself before shutting the door, leaving the outside world behind. 

“This is much better,” he talked into the darkness, the only source of light being the small gap between the door and the floor and wall. “I wish I could see you better though.” His hand never left your body, caressing the skin of your sides and front, becoming bolder. 

Desperately, you tried to find the cord connected to the lamp on the roof. You needed to see him too, you wanted to see him in all his glory. Reaching across the air you grabbed the cord and pulled, the room becoming illuminated instantly. 

Smiling, you looked at him, finding him already staring at you. He looked you up and down before licking his lips, the action making you nervous. 

He stepped towards you, determination clear in his eyes. You walked back into the table behind you, your back hitting its side, trapping you between it and his body. 

“I thought,” he said, grabbing your waist harshly, grasping at your flesh, making you yelp from the sudden action. “I’ve told you not to run away.”

“Am not.” you said, placing the palm of your hands on his chest, pushing back a little to stare at his face. 

The man smirked, before pulling you towards him and taking your bottom lip between his, sucking at it, making you moan into his mouth. Both his hands were now exploring your body. Your hips, your waist, your back, your neck, every part of your body was being touched by him, except where you needed him most. 

“Siir-” pulling back from the kiss, you whined not knowing his name. *How could you forget to ask that?*

“What’s wrong baby?” he said, caressing your cheek tenderly, far different from the touches he was giving you a few seconds ago while exploring your mouth with his tongue. 

“I need you.” you said shyly, scared of meeting his gaze.

“Yeah?” he smirked, his lips brushing against yours, taunting you.

“Mmm” you nodded, not thinking clearly, his smell surrounded you, intoxicating you. The taste of him lingering on your mouth, your brain asking for more, your heart about to explode. 

He chuckled, amused by how desperate you were, but so was he, you could feel it. 

The man grabbed your neck, pulling you back again against him. His mouth coming in contact with your again messily. Your hands, that were on his chest, surrounded his neck, playing with the hair behind it, twirling, pulling, making him moan in your mouth, giving you the opportunity to explore him with your tongue. 

His hands on your body moved to your hips, pulling you up. The sudden movement surprised you, making you bite his bottom lip, making him groan. He placed you on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist, just where they belonged. 

He pulled back hissing, a slight cut on his bottom lip, a bit of blood pooling out of it. He touched his lip with his fingers, drawing out some blood. 

“Cheeky,” he smirked, before smashing his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss. The taste of blood combined with his made you moan. The friction of your bodies was more intense thanks to the new position. You could feel his hard on brushing against your core with every push and pull of your bodies. 

He for sure could feel how wet you were, the only barrier between the front of his jeans and your heat being your panties, thanks to your skirt being pulled up thanks to him. 

His hands fell to your legs, massaging your outer upper thighs, squeezing the flesh, teasing you. His kisses moved to the corner of your mouth to your cheek and down to your neck, finding your sweet spot immediately, just as you two were meant to be from the start. 

You pulled at his hair, making him groan and grind his body against yours, pulling a moan out of you, his hard on brushing against your clit with every thrust of his hips. His lips sucking at the skin of your neck. You moved your head to the side, leaving him more room. 

You were panting now, his touch, his lips, his scent, him, was all you could think of. Your mouth opened and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your chest rising and falling, as your hardened nipples rubbed against his chest. 

His hands moved to your inner legs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. You could swear your wetness was spilling out of your panties and onto the wood of the table. You should be embarrassed, but you couldn’t care less. 

Getting tired of your neck, the man moved his kisses down the center of your throat to the valley of your breasts. Moving one hand from your thighs to grasp one of your tits, making you arch your back, giving your all to him. 

While one of his hands was massaging the skin on your inner thigh, the other was massaging your breast, his thumb caressing your hardened nipple through the material of your top and bra. Moans were spilling left and right from your chest, followed by whines and whimpers begging him to do more, to touch you properly. 

“Sir, please.” you whined, out of breath. “Take it off, please.” you begged, shutting your eyes tightly, focusing on the feeling on his hands across your skin. 

“Anything you want” he answered, detaching his lips from the skin of your chest, where he had been carefully sucking a hickey. 

Straightening himself up, he grabbed the ends of your top, pulling it upwards, signalling you to put your hands up. And so you did, letting him pull the top over your head, leaving behind a layer of clothes between you two. 

He groaned, after tossing your top behind, having a clearer look at your chest. 

“You are so damn beautiful” he whispered, caressing your new exposed skin with the back of his fingers. 

Using both his hands, he pulled the straps of your bra down, giving him access to your naked shoulders. Carefully, he inched closer, giving slight pecks on your skin, moving from your shoulder to your neck, and down to the other shoulder. You shudder, feeling exposed. 

You pulled him closer, grabbing the fabric of his tank tops, slipping your hands beneath them, wanting to touch his warm skin. He hissed, feeling the contact of your cold hand compared to the skin of his torso. You could feel the muscles move beneath the palm of your hand, caressing his abs and chest and back again. He got the message, pulling back from your embrace, he grabbed his shirts and took them off, leaving him topless in front of you, in all his glory.

“Like what you see?” he smirked, clearly seeing your wide eyes and open mouth. 

You bit your lip, and nodded, a smile creeping its way on your face. He chuckled before attacking your chest again with his lips, sucking the skin on top of your breast between his lips, biting it. You arched your back, the feeling too intense, but not enough. 

His hands slipped behind your back, undoing the back of your bra, letting it fall. The cold air hit your chest, your nipples hardening further. Thankfully, the man grasped one tit in each of his big hands, massaging them, keeping them warm, making you moan from the friction. 

Not long after, he replaced one of his hands with his lips, sucking your nipple into his mouth. His mouth was warm, the feeling shooting right to your core. You needed him to be down there. You were growing desperate, all the teasing was becoming too much for you to handle. Every second he spent far from your core was torture. 

You used your hands to pull his hair, pulling his lips away from your breasts, while also pushing his shoulder down, trying to signal him to go downwards. 

He pulled back, smirking, looking up at you smiling like the devil, while you panted, looking at him through half lidded eyes. 

He kissed down your stomach, reaching the waistband of your skirt. The man pulled your legs on top of his shoulders, giving him full access to your pussy. Pulling your skirt up, he came in contact with your wet panties. He pulled them to the side, watching the wetness spill into the table. He groaned, delighted by the sight. 

He used his fingers to gather as much as he could, before putting them on his mouth and sucking. Closing his eyes he moaned at the taste. 

He grabbed your panties, pulling them down your legs, before diving right in into your heat. He took your clit into his mouth, kissing it, sucking, making you see stars. He used his tongue, pushing it and pressing at it.

“Siirr,” you moaned, arching your back, you pushed yourself closer to his mouth, and pressed your head against the wall behind you. You used your hands to keep him there, pulling at his hair, pressing his mouth closer.

He groaned into you, the vibrations making you whimper. He moved downwards, his tongue entering you. His muscle moving with experience, hitting all the right places. Your legs began to shake, your muscles turning into jelly, the pressure on your lower belly becoming stronger and stronger, like a ticking bomb, about to explode. 

The man continued to explore your insides, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously, making you grind against him, trying to reach your high. 

He pulled back, out of breath, your juices covering his chin, mouth, and nose. He moved his thumb to press circles against your clit, keeping you in that spot, still stimulating you, but not enough to push you over the edge. 

“Pleasee,” you begged, wanting him back in your heat. 

“Shhh, darling, I got you”

He dived right in, replacing his thumb with his mouth and pushing one finger into your hole, stretching you out. You moaned at the feeling, the pressure on your belly rising. He didn’t give you time to adjust, pushing another finger in, and then another, moving them in and out of you at a fast speed, hitting all the right places. 

“Sirr, I-” you began, but you were unable to continue when a moan interrupted you. Your vision became blurry and your legs began to shake. You came around his fingers and onto his mouth, your body aching into him. 

You shut your eyes, trying to regain control of your breathing. Panting rapidly you didn’t realize the man had stood up, leaving your heat. Your chest was rising up and down still, but you managed to open your eyes slowly. 

Before you, he stood, face covered in your juices, his hard on prominent on his jeans. 

“Do you-” you swallowed, still trying to catch your breath. “Do you need help with that, handsome?” you smirked. 

He mimicked your expression, walking again between your legs. 

“If you are up for it, beba” he said, right in front of your mouth. So close you could almost touch his lips with your own.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again, caging him and your arms around his neck before moving forward and capturing his lips in yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you moan, the kiss growing hungrier by the second. 

Your nails dug at his back, scratching it. You moved your hands forward, towards his chest, running your nails through his skin, feeling the muscles rippled with every movement. You reached the waistband of his jeans, undoing his belt and the button of his trousers, pulling the zipper down. 

While one hand moved towards the back of his head, keeping him close to your mouth, the other went downwards, massaging his dick through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, making you smile for a split second before biting his bottom lip and pulling it. You moved towards his neck, sucking at it, while your hand wandered into his briefs, tugging at his cock, cupping his balls.

He threw his head back, groaning, giving you a good view of his Adam apple bobbing thanks to his hard swallowing. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand out of his pants, before pulling them down completely, letting his dick free, it hitting his lower stomach, once it came out of his boxers. 

You stared at it, dumbfounded. His cock bigger than you had imagined, you didn’t know if you would be able to fit it in, but you needed it inside you. 

He grabbed his dick, pumping it before putting it in contact with your pussy, spreading your lips with his tips, coating it with your juices. His precum was mixing with yours. 

With one hand on the table beside you, he fell forwards, resting his head against yours. Both of you looked downwards, where your bodies were about to connect, watching him move his tip back and forth, and pressing it against your clit. 

After teasing for a little more, he positioned himself in front of your hole. 

“Are you ready?” He said, looking right into your eyes. 

You look back and forth between his eyes, before nodding against him. 

At your confirmation, he pushed his tip into your hole, the stretch being too much. You threw your head back, shutting your eyes. You bit your lip, trying not to let a sound out. The man latched at your neck, sucking at it, distracting you from the pain of his dick stretching your walls while entering you. 

He grabbed your waist harshly, your walls pulsating and swallowing him in oh so heavenly. You grabbed his shoulders, trying to stay on this Earth, his dick making you see stars, and he wasn’t even all in.

He continued pushing, despite your whimpers and whines, knowing you could handle it. Once your hips were together, you let out a big breath, one you didn’t know you were holding. He lift himself up from your neck, being at eye level with you. 

“Mmm, move.” you whined, opening your eyes slightly, looking at him. 

He nodded, not being able to talk thanks to your tightness. He used both his hands to grab your waist to keep you in place. He pulled back, a small part of his dick leaving your pussy to be pushed back in again. He repeated the movement a couple of times before finding a steady rhythm. 

The only sounds being heard in the room were the slapping of skin against skin and your heavy breathing. His hips grinding into yours, his balls hitting your ass rapidly. The man was pulling all his cock out before pulling it back in with force, hitting your sweet spot every time, making you moan uncontrollably. You scratched his back, trying to sit upright, his movements making you shake and bounce on the table. 

Every now and then he would kiss your lips, before going down and kissing your neck and breasts, overstimulating you. His pace was becoming irregular. He was close, and so were you. He pecked your lips, before resting his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your face with every pant. His chest was rising up and down. 

“Yes, right there” you moaned, brushing against his. 

He groaned. “You-” he whimpered. “You like that?” he continued grinding his hips against yours. 

“Yeah” you said, out of breath, nodding. 

“Are you coming beba?”

“Mmm”

You shut your eyes, basking the feeling of him inside you, him around you. Just all of him. The pressure on your belly was about to snap again, only this time more intense than before. The man let go of your waist with one of his hands to rub circles on your clit. Your legs wrapped around his waist began to shake, becoming loose. You began to grind against him, chasing your high, your breasts brushing against his chest, your nails digging on his back, your moans getting caught by his kisses.

Just when you were about to come, the bell on top of the door rang and you heard the sound of low battery coming from your mp3. 

Snapping your eyes open, you saw the Greek god of a man walking away from the store, after closing the door behind him, making the bell jingle. 

You were in the same position as when he had entered; elbow resting on the counter, chin resting on the palm of your hand. Your mp3 had run out of battery, and all the events of this mystery man made you his, lost with it. The only reminder of that man was the wetness between your legs. A heat that you knew you wouldn’t be able to calm down when your shift was finished. Not even when you were under the covers, naked, imagining the man who just left your movie store.

HIII GUYSSS!!! I am so sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Honestly, I was soo sick, I could barely stand up from the bed to eat. Anyway, hope you like this!! It is my first time writing smut, so it might be a little rough on the eyes, sorry there!!

Anyway, I based this on the song I linked above. I really encourage you to listen to it! It is in Spanish, but it is really good!!

I hope that after writing this I can sit down and write Chapter 2 of the Soulmate AU. I promise I will finish it, I won't leave you hanging. I will keep you posted about how it goes.

I hope you enjoyed this!!

Thank you @glaciertea for helping me!!

[wandaslittlehorns]

Mom's got a date with a vampire

idk, i watched the movie and got obsessed, this is a little something.

Mentions of divorce, classic superstition of vampires, mentions of going on a date with a man, the twins are like fourteen in here, gn!reader, this is short

The twins were annoyed, grounded, Tommy couldn't go to go to his horror show and Billy couldn't go out to the theater with his friends. They had to make a plan to get their mom's mind on something else besides their troublesome attitude in school.

"A date!" Tommy had offered with a hopeful smile. Wanda was divorced, she looked a bit lonely, maybe a little distraction could do some good "But where to find a good one?" the boy seemed thoughtful.

The twins were quick to get into a relationship website and look for the perfect date - Wanda would have lost it if she knew what they were doing behind her back - but soon enough, someone seemed interested. The man was quick to match with Wanda's interests - rather what the twins wrote on her profile.

It was perfect, nothing could go wrong, except for the charming stranger their mom met on the market, flirting with a very flustered Wanda. But it wasn't just the fact that their well thought plan was over, it was the fact that the stranger's aversion to the garlic on Wanda's cart

[bisclavret]

like many who have suffered at the hands of bbc merlin before me, i recently indulged in a thought experiment in which i outlined my own version of seasons 3-5 that stay thematically and tonally in line with the show (except they're less fucking stupid). but then i quickly realized that focusing on details is pointless: all you need is to solve the one Big Problem the show has, and the rest will follow. the problem in question? ✨morgana✨

i like the first two seasons. s1 achieves what it sets out to do and has fun while doing it, and s2, while flawed, sets up a ton of potential that the following seasons unfortunately squander, beginning with the insidious season 3. you can only distract me with cute knights and goblins and fart jokes for so long before i start seeing through you, evil, evil season of television.

my hypothesis is that if the writers had crafted s3 morgana into anything more sympathetic than a violent half-alive poltergeist that can never be reasoned with because she's suddenly terminally off her rocker, everything would've fallen into place. a sympathetic morgana would've made real, valid arguments against uther (and arthur) that wouldn't just be the ramblings of a woman possessed. her betrayal of arthur would have stemmed from her feeling increasingly morally superior to him because of his complacency in the face of their father's tyranny. under morgause's guidance she would stop believing that arthur is capable of change, and the whole point would be that she might actually be right. arthur would have to actively try and prove her wrong, instead of getting praised for doing the bare minimum because the bar is on the floor.

furthermore, morgana's prophetic dream about arthur and gwen becoming king and queen and her decision to prevent this however she can is a direct parallel to merlin learning about that same prophecy and making it happen by any means necessary. merlin's desires about his and arthur's futures are subtextually fueled by gay love and devotion, so why couldn't morgana's be? why couldn't she properly express her bitterness that arthur gets to be with gwen in a way she can't "took gwen away" from her, instead of suddenly declaring that gwen is nothing more than a servant, after two seasons of demonstrating again and again that she loves, values, and respects gwen more than anyone else in that godforsaken castle?

following this, an angry and emotionally volatile but still sensible morgana asking gwen to stay by her side during the coup of the castle in the s3 finale and gwen going behind her back to help arthur and the knights would've hurt like a bitch. double-sided betrayal! gwen having a real plot! the proper beginnings of a toxic yuri that would shape a generation!

then there's the utter hubris of having morgana shoot arrows at the same civilians she worried herself sick over for 2 seasons — even morgan, her medieval counterpart that was rooted in every sexist trope in existence, doesn't just go around killing senselessly but instead has (often petty!) personal vendettas against gwen, arthur, and the knights. morgana had every right to be sick of the pretensions around chivalry in camelot (she was always quick to mock it, even in s1), and to lash out at the knights and soldiers after years of feeling powerless in a castle full of armed men that blindly followed her oppressor. the show conveniently forgets that morgana was victimized as a woman as well as a sorcerer those first 2 seasons.

but like i said, this is not just about morgana. allowing her to remain a real and multifaceted character even as she betrays everyone in pursuit of her ambitions would've given the rest of the core four more interesting conflict to work with: merlin because he would have to experience real consequences to his actions, arthur because he would watch his sister go against his father (and his knights, and his birthright) and experience some actual internal dilemmas about it, and gwen because she would be forced to choose between morgana and arthur without the pretense that it's an obvious or easy choice for her to make.

even morgause and gaius would come off more interesting as mentors: neither one inherently evil or inherently good, both jaded by events that happened before our protagonists were even born, both heavily influencing morgana and merlin into fulfilling roles that they think are appropriate, but that morgana and merlin may not have chosen for themselves had they not been under their care.

you get the gist. if the show followed its own setup, morgana's mistakes wouldn't lie in cheap and senseless acts of violence but in alienating the people she loves because she is too hurt and jaded to trust them. meanwhile, everybody else would feel guilt over "failing" her and yet they would be too caught up in their own (sometimes flawed!) beliefs of right and wrong to truly see her point of view.

arthur would convince himself it was sorcery that corrupted her. merlin would know that isn't true but he wouldn't be able to argue without confessing everything, which is the defining conflict between him and morgana and it's cheapened when she's just an evil witch caricature and merlin is framed as inherently virtuous in contrast. gwen, too, would become a more active participant in her own life by choosing arthur over morgana and choosing to rule camelot with him instead of just waiting politely to see where things go.

and, of course, uther's downfall and death would be quick, final, and completely earned — when and why did the show even decide he of all people was the sympathetic villain, anyway?

lastly, and perhaps controversially, i think morgana should've learned merlin's true identity by season 4. her being the first of the main characters to find out makes perfect sense considering their shared history and their interconnected and mirrored arcs. even the show seems to agree, considering she does find out a little before arthur. but the narrative itself tried pointing flashing neon arrows towards this way earlier — there is a whole entire episode in s4 where merlin being emrys is repeatedly spelled out for morgana and she still isn't allowed to see it. that episode makes her look like the stupidest person to ever live, which is pretty funny im not gonna lie, but also another frustrating thing in the endless string of frustrating things that make up this show.

morgana learning that merlin has magic would've transformed the source of merlin's anxiety from a crippling fear of being outed someday to the crippling fear of knowing she could out him at any moment. this would make him want to beat her to the punch (perhaps he'd consider killing her for a minute and decide against it because she isn't a cartoonishly insane evil person in my version of events) and maybe he would even feel some tentative excitement at the idea of coming clean, now that it seems inevitable. after all, he always intended to tell arthur eventually! and i think gaius would have to admit outright that he does not want merlin to tell arthur he has magic because he, gaius, simply cannot risk such a gamble. it would be so interesting to see gaius and merlin clash and disagree once it becomes obvious that it's not merlin that isn't ready for the reveal, it's gaius. delicious!

with morgana's knowledge looming, things would inevitably spiral into a magic reveal by the end of season 4. i picture this season as an absolute mess of miscommunication between everyone at camelot, which is, y'know, canon. growing increasingly cunning and vengeful, morgana would use this tension to her advantage, destabilizing the court from the outside while she creates alliances with other sorcerers outside of camelot (instead of living alone in a hovel for no reason — morgana le fay i'm sorry i'm so sorry they gave you agravaine instead of your all-female entourage oh my god).

and here's where the events would change beyond recognition (aka here's where the meta becomes the fanfic i refuse to write). picture it with me: a militia of sorcerers infiltrates camelot and arthur and gwen have to set aside their differences (assuming gwen kissing lancelot and arthur overreacting happens, which it should) for the good of the kingdom as well as for love. picture high priestess morgana in her element, side by side with a bunch of misfit sorcerers that aren't so easily vilified, chopping down camelot's soldiers and knights and assuredly making their way to the newly-minted king.

then, just as it starts to seem that all hope is lost, in swoops merlin (the actual merlin, not his old fart disguise) on dragonback (kilgharrah hates morgana so much i know his sexist ass would stoop to anything to stop her)!!! imagine merlin showing off the extent of his powers in front of everyone and preventing the sorcerers from getting any further, declaring loud and clear that camelot is protected by him, by emrys. imagine that display of power alone being enough to send everyone home.

imagine the loyalties clearly drawn: merlin on arthur's side, morgana on the sorcerers'. imagine arthur, feeling confused and betrayed by everyone at this point, banishing merlin despite everything he's done for him in the angstiest, most emotionally dysregulated scene the show had ever put to screen. imagine merlin starting season 5 free at last but very lonesome, an embittered dragonlord like his father. imagine the absolute mess camelot would become without him, even with gwen — now queen guinevere — there to pick up the slack. imagine arthur actually earning merlin back, finally growing into his role as king as he does so. imagine the reunion.

all this and more could've been not just possible but inevitable if morgana was allowed to remain a complex character that is neither inherently good nor inherently evil: it was undeniably the biased and one-note treatment of morgana's downfall by the writers that set the precedent for literally everything else that happened after merlin chose to poison her. the show wouldn't have even had to jeopardize its tone or the monster-of-the-week vibe, all it would've had to do is admit that even the "good guys" are capable of mistakes and what makes them good is the ability to feel remorse and change for the better. (as opposed to uther, who was miles beyond redemption since way before the pilot and deserved to lose everything and die alone. OBVIOUSLY???)

in a world where morgana remains multifaceted and sympathetic, mordred would get a better arc as well, so if we really wanted to, we could still end on the same tragic note that the show ended on. with so much harm inflicted onto so many innocent people by the pendragons for so long (including mordred and the many druids and sorcerers that raised him), it could realistically end up being a little too late for anything more than one shining glimpse of king arthur and the sorcerer merlin's short-lived golden age before fate catches up to them. glimpsing that reality just to immediately lose it would've been far more satisfying and far more tragic than whatever the writers thought they were doing with all that pointless carrot-dangling.

and finally, an ending in line with morgana's new and improved arc. in this version, rather than bleeding out on the forest floor alone, she would channel the morgan le fay we know from the legends: sobered up by the reality of her brother dying, she would use her high priestess status (and perhaps also her pendragon status) to be granted passage over to avalon alongside arthur on the boat — a one-way ride — just to make sure he gets there safely. this is her penance for the harm she has caused, the same way arthur's penance is to die and leave the true ruler of camelot (gwen) behind to achieve everything he was too slow and indecisive to build while he still had time.

merlin's penance, then, would be to stay behind and watch them cross over without him, waiting and waiting and waiting until they come back or until he can finally join them. which is a bit fucking harsh if i'm honest, so i'd at least make it slightly more faithful to the legends by having him return as an old man and letting him take a long nap under a tree by the shore, his body slowly enveloped by vines like the cobwebbed fisher king in 3x08, never fully sure if he's dreaming or if there really are strange shapes fading in and out of the fog over the lake. still tragic, but nevertheless a little more open-ended and whimsical than [TRUCK NOISES] THE END!

[grandlinedreams]

Hey, um I love your works, especially the angsty-themed 😭. Anyway, here's the prompt :

We know that Law is a very private person, and he just doesn't want people to see any type of affection between him and the reader. So imagine like things get hectic, or like he's too focused on his long-term planning. He becomes cold and indifferent, and the reader is not an exception even if the reader is simply willing to help. Yes, he's a private person, but everyone already knows that the reader is his partner. His crew, or maybe the og member that is older than him, are getting uncomfortable and reminding (or rather scolding) him for his behaviour to the reader. Maybe the reader overheard their argument and gets sad because the reader has tried not to take his reaction personally, but it's not a good sign when others have enough. This ends with Law's realization that his crews support their relationship and wish the best for them, showing affection in front of them won't get him teased or even annoy his crew.

Thank you, Love 🫶

Hiya papaya!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get to this, but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: Law being a tiiny bit of a red flag, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hefty touch of angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"Is that for captain?"

Looking up from where you're setting things on the tray to carry, you find Penguin watching you and you nod.

"How is he? We haven't seen much of him lately."

You hesitate. Penguin knows Law even better than you do, as do Shachi and Bepo ㅡ they're from a chapter of his life you've only ever gotten brief comments about.

"You know how he gets when he's figuring out a plan," you sigh, and Penguin nods. "I'm going to take this to him."

"You're the best at cheering him up," your crewmate calls after you as you walk away, and your fingers curl around the tray.

You wish that was true, that you had an innate knack for easing Law's burdens the way the others seem to think you do. And maybe you did, at one time ㅡ but not lately.

You can't even tell anyone that it's been days since Law even talked to you. It's been a cycle of going to bed without him, waking up alone, and swapping out plates of barely touched food and drink for new.

You know that this is what happens when he gets focused on something, have seen it before ㅡ but it hurt a little less when you weren't his partner. You know you can't expect him to immediately tell you everything, but telling you nothing isn't fair, either.

You knock, then nudge the door open with your hip. Law hasn't moved from where he'd been when you woke up, nor does he look up when you approach.

"I made grilled salmon this time," you say quietly, glancing at the carefully shaped onigiri. "And tea."

Steam curls off the top, but Law doesn't so much as glance your way. This too has not been unusual, but again, it digs the blade further into your chest.

Have you done something wrong? Surely there's more to it than just being busy for him to shut you out so completely.

You turn to leave, stilling when there's finally, finally a murmur of your name from your boyfriend. Your heart leaps, and you turn, small smile on your lips. "Yes?"

He still isn't looking at you. "Stay in the crew bunkhouse tonight. I can't afford to be distracted right now."

Maybe it'd be better if he yelled at you. If he'd be angry with you, be something with you ㅡ because the flat tone and way he still won't actually look at you hurts far worse than anything else.

"Oh," you say softly, "...of course."

You shut the door behind you, back pressed against it as you take a few steadying breaths, willing yourself not to cry. You won't, not when it will get you scolded if he finds out ㅡ so you close your eyes and count to ten, then pull away from the door.

You can do this for him, give him his space, support him from the edges of that barrier he's made around himself.

You can, and you will.

ㅡ

"Not that we aren't happy to have you here [Name], but..." Clione squints at you. "What are you doing here?"

You look up from where you're pulling back the blankets of your bed ㅡ a bed you haven't slept in for months, as your mind is so gleefully cruel in reminding you. "What do you mean?"

"He means that you're usually with captain," Ikkaku says, watching you with a look of gentle concern.

You're not sure how to answer that and you fumble, fighting hard against the flush of your cheeks. "How do youㅡ"

"You're not as subtle as you think," Hakugan chimes in. "I know captain won't say it, but we've all pretty much figured it out already. Not much you can hide on the 'Tang."

He has a point. Ikkaku is still watching you, her head tilting.

"So...is everything okay?"

You blink, fingers curling against your blanket. "Everything is fine," you say, even though it's far from it. Though they may know about your relationship, you highly doubt that Law would be pleased if they knew about any issues. "I just felt like sleeping in here, that's all."

It's clear none of them believe you, sharing a brief look as you slip underneath your blanket and roll onto your side. It's strange now, going from the comfort of a bed shared with someone to alone ㅡ but if Law needs you to do this, you can do this.

You don't sleep well, not at all ㅡ and when you've finally had enough of tossing and turning, you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, mindful not to disturb your crewmates.

Machinery hums beneath your feet as you pad down the narrow hallway, turning the corner ㅡ and nearly bumping into a firm chest.

You stumble back, balance corrected by the hand that reaches out to grip your shoulder ㅡ familiar warmth, tanned fingers stamped by familiar tattoos.

Law.

It's the first time he's touched you in the better part of a week and a half, and you almost hate yourself for how badly you want to beg for more. He doesn't even have to kiss you ㅡ just a hug would do.

You miss him.

Law's lips part like he's going to say something, but the creak of a door opening makes him tense ㅡ and reality washes over you like an icy bucket of water.

So you do what you have to ㅡ you dhrug his hand off of your shoulder, curve your lips into a smile you don't feel, and take a step back.

"Good morning, captain," you tell him, ignore how it rips your chest open to be so formal with him and slip around him to begin your own day.

ㅡ

"Did something happen between you and [Name]?"

The question makes Law tense from where he's putting away medical supplies from the latest supply run, glancing at Shachi who'd volunteered to help him. That, he supposes, should have been his first clue. Not that Shachi isn't helpful ㅡ but that he has an agenda of his own.

Law looks away. "I don't know what you mean."

Shachi huffs. "Don't play dumb, captain." He knows he's treading the line of insubordination, but there's only so much he and the others can take of this. "We know you're together."

Law stills.

"[Name] didn't tell us anything," Shachi continues. "We figured it out. So don't be mad at them."

Law is quiet, trying to process the other man's words before he says slowly, "How long have you and the others known?"

Shachi shrugs. "Couple of months." His tone softens, though it still carries an edge of scolding. "You can't just shut everyone out like that, captain. Especially not if you're in a relationship with someone."

Law wants to argue, say that he didn't ㅡ but he did. Pushed you as far as he could, made you keep your distance. He'd backtracked on months of progress, of affection and trust ㅡ and called you distracting.

Ans you'd taken it all in stride. You hadn't gotten angry, hadn't fought with him ㅡ simply nodded, smiled, and let him treat you as he pleased.

You'd let him hurt you, something he'd promised he'd never do ㅡ

"Finish putting this away for me," he tells Shachi, who watches as Law leaves the storage room without looking back, and he grins.

"About time."

ㅡ

You stir to the feeling of being carried. That's funny, you don't even remember falling asleep ㅡ but you must've, curled up on the couch with a book.

You squirm, and the arms around you tighten as your eyelids flutter. "Waking up?"

Your eyes snap open. "Law," you say, staring up at your boyfriend ㅡ or at least, who you hope is still your boyfriend. "What are you doing?"

"You fell asleep on the couch," he says, "and I'm taking you to bed before you end up with a crick in your neck from sleeping like that."

"Oh." You study the curve of black ink on his chest. "To the bunkhouse?"

"No, to myㅡ" He stops, corrects himself. "Our room."

That gives you a glimmer of hope, allows for you to snuggle further against him, which relieves him in turn. You aren't angry with him ㅡ both a blessing and a little bit of a curse, brcause you have every right to be.

As if sensing his thoughts, you sigh softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be." He nudges his door open, shuts it behind him before continuing towards the bed. The bed that's been far too cold over the last couple of days without your presence.

You cling to him, even after he sets you down, coaxing him to lay next to you. "I'm not," you insist again. "Just wish you'd trust me a little more. I want to help, Law."

Your fingers brush his cheek, and he reaches to grasp them, presses soft kisses to your fingertips. "I know. I need to work on that. I shouldn't have shut you out like that, it wasn't fair to you."

You press closer. "We can work on it together," you say, lips against his collarbone, sweet kisses that make him shiver. "Right?"

"Right," he agrees softly, pulls you to him as close as he can, wraps himself around you. "Together."

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.29

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

There’s nothing like the warmth of a home-cooked meal. Especially in comparison to the mediocre meals you were cooking for yourself. You like to think it heals a little part of your soul with each bite you take. 

Your mother doesn't question why you suddenly accepted her offer home after months of refusing but you have a feeling she might know. She’s always had weird physic mom abilities. At first, you thought you could get away with acting normal but the look she gave you when you got in her car at the airport told you you’d been caught.

Since that moment your mother has been doing an exceptional job at distracting you and you’ll never be able to express just how grateful you are for her. 

The few days that you’ve been home your mother’s been parading you around town, showing you what’s new and telling you stories of all the crazy things you’d do in every building, playground, and park. When you're home, your mother finds excuses to give you small brushes of physical affection and you don’t realize just how lonely living by yourself has gotten until you woke up to waffles and a kiss on the forehead.

You have a small inkling that she’s behind the occasional disappearance of your phone as well but you don’t comment on it. It’s a welcome break from the chaos of social media but you know you can’t avoid your problems forever and reality hits one afternoon when your mom is out grocery shopping and your phone dings with a notification.

You pick it up to see multiple news outlets blowing up about the upcoming press conference the government will be holding to explain what happened to the Avengers and you all but rush to turn the news on the TV.

There are a few unfriendly-looking government officials in suits and balding hair standing in front of a podium full of microphones and before any of them have even spoken there’s a flash of cameras from somewhere behind the camera.

One of the taller white men steps forward and the room goes silent. You’re on the edge of your seat with anticipation and you’re sure everyone else watching is as well. The man in the suit looks less than excited to be there and you can already tell by the look on his face that you’re not going to like what he has to say. Your stomach sinks in.

“I know this has been greatly anticipated by the public and I’m sure you all have a lot of questions so I'll get straight to the point.” Another camera shutter clicks. “ Around a month ago we approached the Avengers group about the amount of destruction they left behind after their battles. We felt the damage was too significant to let it continue happening, so we came up with the proposal that the Avengers agree to government supervision and limitations to minimize the damages.” 

You let out a low hiss through your teeth as murmurs fill the conference room. You’re sure most of the Avengers wouldn’t have taken kindly to that situation. If you’re honest you’re surprised a full-out fight hadn’t started. It only makes you more nervous for what’s to come.

“Unfortunately, a few members of the group didn’t agree with our terms and have since fled to avoid responsibility” Your blood boils at the way he’s talking about the world's greatest heroes, like they’re teenagers who broke the neighbors' window. You’re sure they’re purposely leaving out details of their contract to make the Avengers look bad. “Due to this circumstance,” A woman steps from behind him and hands him a file and he opens it and begins lifting picture after picture “The following Avengers are now considered wanted felons. If you see any of them please contact your local authorities-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as the room erupts into chaos. Reporters are shouting, cameras are flashing left and right and questions are being flung at the uncomfortable-looking officials. 

You practically shoot up from your seat in outrage. The Avengers are wanted felons? What was the government thinking? Just because they wanted control over the world's strongest and smartest? You hated to think what the world would descend into now that criminals not only didn’t have to fear the Avengers, but could call to get them arrested as well.

Security steps in and the room calms a little but reporters refuse to let the subject go, raising their hands to question such an idiotic decision.

“With the Avengers gone, what are you going to do about the influx in crime?” One asks, and another white man steps up to the podium to answer.

“We will be doubling the police force in every state to ensure the crime rates go back down” The reporters don’t seem satisfied, another raising a counter-question

“What about supernatural criminals and weapons?” The man swallows nervously and you’re sure a cartoonish bead of sweat is about to trail down his forehead when he speaks up with less confidence than before.

“Rest assured our officers are being trained to handle any possible situations, and we will be arming them with state-of-the-art weapons” You practically groan at his words, and your phone dings with notifications from various sites. Your friends from the Stark party are texting you about their outrage, news outlets are blowing up, and your mother wants to know if you want any cereal. 

You text her yes and respond to your other texts, tuning out the bullshit coming from the TV until pictures of the ‘wanted felons’ appear on the TV. Over half of the Avengers pictures are on the screen with the words “Wanted” under them and your eyes unconsciously drift toward Nat as a woman speaks

“We haven’t been able to get a hold of any of the aforementioned Avengers so if you have any information about their whereabouts please call-” you practically scoff at the TV. Of course, they couldn’t get a hold of Natasha Romanoff, if she wanted to disappear you’d never see or hear from her again-

Your head spins. A dangerous thought sneaks into your mind and despite your best efforts you can’t block it out. The government official had said they tried to make this deal around a month ago- around the same time Nat stopped responding to you.

With your heart leaping to your throat, you immediately rush to grab your computer. It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered Nat’s name being Natasha but you hadn’t wanted to plaster Natasha’s face onto this total stranger, and you definitely didn't want to project your feelings for your celebrity crush onto a real person who had nothing to do with her.

You never let yourself go down that hole, especially because the more you talked to Nat the less she seemed like the stoic Natasha Romanoff you knew of. 

You still refuse to believe it until you can prove it though, so the only thing you can think to do is pull up every single publicized mission the Avengers have gone on and open your phone to Nat’s contact. You ignore the painful jerk your heart gives as you scroll past your pleading and Nat’s last “I’m sorry” text until you find the last time she said she had to go away for ‘work’.

She’d been gone for two weeks but still managed to send you a quick ‘goodnight’ text on one of those days. It made your whole week that she’d been thinking of you even while she was working and still chose to text you even though she could get in trouble for using her phone. 

You scroll through the missions until you find one with a similar date. A mission in Eastern Europe that took the three of the Avengers two weeks to complete. It doesn’t state which Avengers so you brush it off as a coincidence and scroll up further, searching for another ‘work’ message.

Half an hour later you have at least fifteen ‘coincidences’ that line up almost perfectly with when Nat would leave you on delivered. You want to believe it but you’re at war with yourself.

Something joyful tugs at your heart and you shake your head to try and get rid of the images of Nat smiling on the other side of the phone. 

The other part of you is astonished you’d even believe such a thing. Why would Natasha continue texting you? There was no way she’d trust something as childish as ‘number neighbors’. And if she did believe that… why wouldn’t she just block your number?

Although you suppose she did try and get you to stop texting her, you just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Suddenly all of her threats feel a little more serious. 

For a split second, there’s relief. The weight of the fear that she’d ghosted you because she was tired of you lifted from your shoulders. The fear of never knowing her face or what she sounded like was gone. Instead, it was replaced by anxiety. The woman you loved was a wanted criminal AND an Avenger. You don’t know if it’s better or worse that you can read all of the texts in her voice now.

Your brain is screaming at you while your heart is frolicking in a field full of flowers.

The woman you’ve had a fictional crush on for years is actually the woman you fell in love with online, surprise!

Still, you’re worried you’re getting a little ahead of yourself so you try to calm down and scour the internet for more proof. You find an old video from when the Avengers did a live slumber party for charity and zoom in on Nat’s pajamas. Yep, the same gray as the photo of her pants she’d sent you from way back when you first met. 

The first photo she ever sent you and it was truly a gift to receive but big deal- lots of people wore gray to bed! 

The thought of gifts reminds you of the surveillance footage the restaurant promised to send you months ago when Nat bought you dessert. God, you really should read your emails. After scrolling through work emails and companies advertising their sales you find a very old email from the restaurant with the footage from their back alley. 

You can’t believe you forgot to look at this.

Sure enough, as the waiter had said, you can only see a hoodie from that angle but you’ll take anything you can get. You pause and play the video at every millisecond until a sliver of a design is visible and you reverse image search until a picture of that exact hoodie pops up.

You pull up every single member of the Avengers’ Instagram's until you see a picture of Clint Barton wearing what seems to be the same hoodie only two months ago. It’s a stretch, you’re sure anyone could own that hoodie but at this point, you’ve already fully convinced yourself it’s her. You feel like an FBI agent with how deep you’re digging for evidence and the thought reminds you of one of the first things you ever said to her

“What, are you an FBI agent or something?”

“Something like that”

You were truly the world’s biggest idiot at this point. Natasha had been trying to tell you at the Stark party, hadn’t she? You knew the joke sounded familiar. 

A sort of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she spoke her next sentence “Well I’m no FBI agent” It feels like an inside joke and you're trying to pinpoint where you remember it from but after a few seconds you shake it off and blame it on the alcohol. 

Not to mention how hesitant she’d been to talk to you in the beginning. She was a super spy! Of course, she wouldn’t believe you got her number by coincidence. Did that mean that she knew who you were from the beginning? She probably knew everything about you from your apartment number to your first pet. 

But…if she knew everything about you and still chose to stay and talk to you then maybe there was the smallest, tiniest chance she liked you back the way you liked her.

Why else would someone like her spend every day putting up with your antics?

All this time you’ve been wondering who she was and why she left you and now you have an answer you have no idea what to do with. It’s not like she’d be at Avengers Tower right now, nobody knew where she was. And she hadn’t responded to any of your messages. How could you tell her you knew? How could you tell her that you weren’t mad anymore? Will you ever be able to confess how you feel to her in person?

You don’t even realize you're crying until a drop of water lands on your computer. You were overwhelmed with so many different emotions; joy, worry, love. The idea of loving Natasha Romanoff was scary but loving Nat? Loving Nat was easy. And you have to keep reminding yourself that they’re the same person. That The Black Widow was a persona while Nat was her real self. 

The sound of the front door doesn’t register in your mind until you hear your mother calling your name. You turn to look at her with your tear-stricken face and her expression softens as she takes you in.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” she drops her groceries and makes her way over to you, wrapping you in her arms immediately. The way she says your name with so much love reminds you of the last time you heard Natasha’s voice-

“Take care of yourself, Y/n.”

The sentence only makes you cry harder and your mom soothingly rubs up and down your back. She doesn’t know you’ve just had the discovery of a lifetime or that you accidentally fell in love with a superhero. She just comforts you as you cry in her arms.

“Oh honey, it'll be okay”

You hope she’s right.

Pt.30

A/n: This chapter took a lot longer to write because I wanted to really get Y/n's reaction right- sorry it's late! ~ Starry

---Taglist--

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[irisintheafterglow]

iris is missing bachira again, what else is new!!

in the limited amount of time you'd spent with bachira meguru, you learned that, with the exception of soccer, his attention span was shorter than a toddler's.

he was always fiddling with something at the outskirts of your vision, spinning a pencil or rolling a rectangular eraser back and forth. a closer look revealed an assortment of little drawings at the corners and headings of his notebook pages: little butterflies, trees, flowers, rockets, fish, and anything more you could possibly think of. you sat in the seat closest to the aisle where the teacher walked through during worktimes, and you developed the habit of tapping his side of the lab table when she started getting too close. bachira would then flip to whatever page he was supposed to be completing and put on the appearance of working hard, murmuring his gratitude when the teacher passed.

it was during a lecture about aquatic ecosystems when the first bachira doodle swam its way into your notebook. you didn't notice it at first, too focused on the presentation to see his hand quickly scribble on your paper before retreating like nothing happened. but, when you finally had a second to look down and see a fish swimming next to a crudely drawn piece of coral, the tiniest smile when you looked at bachira's face was a dead giveaway. you added your own stalk of seaweed to the picture and his smile only grew larger when you slid the paper over to show him.

over time, drawings began to include questions, questions turned to full messages, and full messages became gossip and complaints that were exchanged without any spoken words. his favorite thing to scribble was we won the game, btw :D because you never failed to giggle at his terribly drawn soccer ball next to the smiley face. his most frequently asked question, however, was a tossup between what tf are we learning and i'm so hungry. he was a distraction in class, yes, but a welcome one when you needed someone to lighten a dark mood.

you found that his bored tendencies rubbed off on you, as you were itching to write something one day when the teacher had explicitly instructed you to watch the documentary without taking notes. bachira knew that you had a hard time remembering things if you didn't write them down, and his solution startled you.

"it's okay, just write on me!" he beamed at you as he whispered over the movie playing on the projector. "you let me do it all the time, so let me return the favor."

"i let you do it because none of your pens are permanent, bachira. it's also just doodles, not full sentences," you point out, a blister starting to form on the inside of your fingers as you spin your pen. "mine are a little harder to wash off, trust me."

"as long as you don't draw a dick on my face, i really don't care," he shrugs and you scoff as he's rolling up his sleeve and presenting you his blank forearm. "your canvas awaits." seeing the hesitancy on your face, he nods encouragingly and takes the liberty of drawing a very shaky smiley face on the side of his thumb. "your turn!"

for the remainder of class, bachira's chin rests in his palm with his elbow propped on the table, his other arm extended to you as you jot down whatever you want to remember for later. bachira watches you more than he does the video, memorizing the way you bite your tongue when you're thinking and the way your eyes light up when you figure out how to paraphrase a thought. it's endearing and an odd fluttering feeling occurs in his chest as you look over at him with a grateful smile. at the end of the period, you draw a heart on the inside of his wrist before rushing off to your next subject, still expressing your thanks as you push in your chair.

later, bachira brushes off his teammates when they ask why he has pen stains all over his arm; he says he didn't have time to scrub it before the game.

---

the blue lock players begin to notice an odd habit of bachira's, a sort of ritual right before every match. he rolls up his uniform's long-sleeve until just enough of his wrist is showing, and draws something on the inside of his wrist. with the cap of the marker between his teeth, bachira obviously struggles to draw with his non-dominant hand but declines assistance when isagi offers.

when he kisses the heart on the inside of his wrist before scoring every goal, he hopes that you can feel it's for you, with a promise that he'll be back to you soon.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Let Me Take Your Fear Away [Frankie x f!reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet female, no descriptors except has boobs and pussy)

Warnings: Fear of thunder, deprivation of hearing and sight, cunnilingus, piv sex.

Summary: You're afraid of thunder and when a storm rolls in over town, you call Frankie to keep you company. And he has a new idea about how to distract you.

Words: 2,300

The dark clouds chase you home from work, and you just barely make it inside before the rain starts to hammer the streets. You pick up your phone and check the online lightning map immediately, finding that the storm is still raging in the next town over. The weather forecast, however, says it'll reach your town in a couple of hours. Chewing on your lower lip, you start to prepare dinner, checking the map and forecast every now and then. Nothing's changed, and you see that the lightning map is riddled with red and yellow dots. It's a rough one, and you can already hear the thunder in the distance.

You eat while watching a show on your laptop. Even if the storm is still far away, you're loath to use electricity, so you sit in the dark with the TV unplugged. When thunder starts to rumble closer to your town, it seems to reverberate through your entire body.

You fucking hate this. Hate that you're so skittish when there's thunder, hate that you can't stop thinking about lightning striking your house, hate that you flinch every time there's a crack in the skies above you. The risk of actually being harmed is so small, you take a bigger risk every day by driving to work, but you just can't help it.

Picking up your phone, you see now that the storm is rolling in over your town.

"Fuck," you mutter, and tap open the list of last made calls. Frankie's name is at the top, and you hesitate for a second before calling him. He picks up almost at once.

"Hi, babe." His warm, low barytone makes you smile. He sounds happy to hear from you, and you love that about him. Granted that this relationship is still quite new, but he seems genuinely interested in being with you.

"Hi. Listen, um, are you doing anything special?"

"Nah, just waiting for the storm to pass."

"Yeah, about that... would you want to do it over here?"

A crack makes you gasp, and Frankie's voice changes, becomes laced with worry.

"Are you okay?"

"Please don't laugh but... I'm kinda scared of thunder."

"Why would I laugh?"

"People do. Frankie, can you come over? Keep me company?"

"I'm on my way. Do you need anything?"

"Just you."

"Be there soon."

He’s with you in record time, hanging is wet jacket in the dark hallway with you holding up a flashlight, feeling stupid about your overzelous need to pull every plug in your home. You know that it’s safe to keep the lights on, but the flickering makes you nervous. With Frankie’s arms around you, you feel a little safer.

“What can I do to make you comfortable?”

You’ve never heard those words from anyone before, and it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I don’t know… no one ever asked that before.”

“People are dumbasses,” he scoffs, one big, warm hand cupping the back of your head as he holds you close. “We could watch a movie on the laptop? That way we don’t have to keep it plugged in.”

A lightning strike flashes, lighting up the roomfor a second, and a loud crack follows. You flinch in Frankie’s arms, then laugh nervously.

“I’m not sure I can focus. The light and the sound…”

“I see.”

He thinks for a while, hand moving in soothing circles for every rumble that makes you shiver.

“Okay, I got an idea. Don’t hate me now, but do you wanna have sex?”

You look up at him in the half dark.

“Excuse me?”

“I know it sounds like an asshole suggestion, but there’s not uch else we can do, and I’d like at least to try to redirect your focus.”

He’s smiling, and his voice as dropped to a deep, honeyed smoothness that does make your groin tighten. You’re stunned for a moment, not really sure about what you want, but the truth is, sex with Frankie has so far never let you down.

“Okay,” you finally agree, and that’s how you end up in the bedroom, slowly kissing and helping each other undress. The blinds are drawn but harsh, albeit brief, strikes of light still illuminate the room. By the time you’re naked on the bed, with Frankie kissing his way down your body, you sigh in frustration at yet another fright.

“Frankie,” you mumble, “I’m not sure this is going to work. I’m too tense.”

He stops and looks up at you in the dark.

“I can feel that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for.” He comes up to kiss your lips, sweetly, just a couple of soft pecks. “I wish I could make you comfortable.”

“Not your fault.”

“I want you to be comfortable.”

“I know.”

He kisses you again, then hums, like he thought of something.

“Babe, can we try something?”

“What?”

“Gimme just two minutes. I’m gonna get something from my truck. Will you be okay?”

“Sure,” you frown as he kisses you quickly before getting up from the bed. You hear him put on his jeans and t-shirt, and grab the flashlight from the bedside table.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, then lights his way to the hall, where he pulls on his shoes. You hear the front door open and close, and you sit up, nervous about being alone again.

He’s not even away for two minutes, but his hair is wet when he comes back to bed, finding you sitting up with your arms around you knees. He holds up a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and your scarf from the hall.

“Okay, feel free to say no, but if it’s the light and sound that bothers you, how about we block those out?”

You wet your lips, a nervous flutter in your stomach. You had no idea he was this creative, not to mention kinky.

“So I wouldn’t hear or see anything?” you state the obvious, accepting the headphones from him and turning them in your hands. Frankie nods.

“Precisely. We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but it could be worth a try?”

You look at him, barely discerning his handsome features in the faint light from the flashlight. He looks so secure, so soft and full of concern for you.

“I wanna try,” you rule, and put on the headphones. The sound of heavy rain against the window stops, and all you can hear are you own breaths. A lightning flashes outside, making you recoil, but you never hear the subsequent thunder. Relief floods your body, and desire takes over fear. You take off the headphones.

“It works!”

“They’re good,” Frankie nods, handing you the scarf. “Tie this around your head.”

You raise the scarf to your eyes but before you can tie it, Frankie leans in for a kiss.

“I’ll be careful, and you just tell me to stop if you feel comfortable, okay?”

“I trust you,” you tell him quietly, and he kisses you again before letting you tie the scarf. Everything turns dark, and you adjust the fabric to avoid any cracks. You then put on the headphones, and everything turns silent.

Frankie’s lips seek out yours and in your silent bubble, your tongues dancing around each other sounds so loud. Your breath is thunderous when echoing in your own head, but you’re used to the effect from using earbuds at the gym. You focus on the kiss, on Frankie’s hands on your body, more exciting than ever before now that you can’t tell where he’s going. You give him command, let him lay you down on your back, sigh out your pleasure when he kisses your neck, your breasts, your stomach. Your sighs rise to moans when his tongue connects with your clit, and when he wraps his arms around your thighs to keep your still, your hands find his on your hips. You need that connection now that you can’t see him, can’t hear him – but you can still feel the vibrations of his hums and growls against your pussy. You feel it even more intensely now than you usually do, maybe because you’re so concentrated on what you can feel instead of our other senses. His name is a prayer on your tongue and a scream inside your head when he makes you cum, holds your pelvis down as you writhe and sob. He doesn’t stop, clearly determined to make you cum again, and while your clit is throbbing violently in dubious protest against the renewed ministrations, you don’t stop him but mewl your yesyesmoremorepleasepleaseplease in a way that drives him to tighten his hold of your hips before diving in with a new intensity. You feel it in a whole new way, in every fibre of your body, muscles flexing at the waves of pleasure that climb and grow and climb until your entire body is once again free to fall from Frankie’s arms and back into his arms, his breath searing hot against your slick folds, his tongue still lapping at your juices but slower now, your head full of your own voice, your orgasm, your breaths that you don’t know how you’re still drawing. Slowly, Frankie releases his grip of your thighs and you feel your hips groan when you carefully stretch out your legs. Your hand looks for him, and he's there, fingers plaiting together with your as he lays down next to you, his pussy-soaked mouth finding yours for a sweet, deep kiss. You want him, all of him, his warm, safe body snug against yours, and you trace your hand down his chest and stomach to his thick, stiff cock resting against your thigh. His breath stutters against your cheek when your fingers close around his girth, and then again when you tug him gently to get him to roll on top of you. Your legs fall open once again to accommodate him, and you nock him at your slick entrance, still fluttering from your orgasms. He pushes in with a moan that you feel as a reverberation and warmth against your skin. Your hands to come to his ass, pressing down to push him deeper in, and he obeys, cupping your cheek to kiss him moans into you.

“Fuck me,” you beg him, the request so loud in your head, and he plunges his tongue into your mouth, his cock into your welcoming pussy, and he does as he’s asked, takes you with a devastating steadiness that knocks the breath out of you with each thrust. Fucking Frankie is always an experience beyond the normal, but this is profound: seeing nothing, hearing only your own cock-drunk thoughts and echoing breaths, feeling him so acutely, his whole length connection with yours as he kisses your breath away with your moans, all the while fucking you with one solid thrust after another. You rake your nails down his back, you slap his flat ass before kneading it, following the rise and fall of it as he works your pussy, you gnaw at his neck, bite his ear, his lip, his tongue until he has to put his hand over your mouth and you shriek I’m sorry, Jesus Christ, don’t stop fucking me, fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again!

He renews his efforts, skin slick with sweat by now, knowing how to move to make it good for you, to make you cum one more time, fuck, you’re delirious by now but you’re cumming, and Frankie cums right after you, filling you with his seed as he fumbles with the headphones and pulls them off your head so that he can growls into your ear, Fuck, baby, fuck, fuckkkkk!

You expect everything to be loud now that the headphones are off, but it’s like you can’t hear anything. Frankie’s still inside you, still now, his body a precious weight on you. Only when he starts to move, his softening cock slipping out of you, do you start to hear things, the first one being your pussy queefing when his cum spits out of you.

The rain has subsided into a gentle pitter-patter on the window, and you take off the scarf. There is soft light fighting to get in through the blinds. You blink a couple of times, and bring your thighs together to avoid getting cum stains on the sheets.

“You okay?”

You turn your head towards Frankie, finding him gazing softly at you, ruddy-faced and sweaty, but satisfied.

“I’m perfect,” you whisper. He extends his hand to cup your face.

“I wasn’t as careful as I said I’d be. Sorry.”

“Frankie, that was… fucking amazing!” you blurt out inelegantly. Frankie grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You were so loud.”

“I was?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure the neighbors heard you screaming that you’re going to cum again.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t realize.”

“It was awesome. You were so fucking sexy.”

“So were you. I mean you felt sexy.”

He kisses you gently before wrapping his arm around you to bring you in closer. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“Thanks for helping me.” You wet your lips. “I know this is new and all but… no one’s ever helped me like this before. I appreciate it, Frankie.”

“Glad to help with anything and everything,” he replies quietly, finger stroking your cheek slowly. “I really like you. And I like that you feel safe with me.”

“I really like you, too. And I love that I can trust you. I never had anyone like that before.”

When you hear thunder far away in the distance, you don’t even blink. You make a note of it, but then let it go. You may not be cured of your fear, but right now you’re as safe as you can be.

[devildom-moss]

I request…diavolo courting headcanons with an exasperated barbatos sprinkled in

Super late, but I hope you enjoy it. I love when Diavolo causes trouble for Barbatos but Barbs just kind of manages because affection duty. I could probably have done a few more, but I think I got a good chunk of stuff. I put a few MC courting Diavolo at the end since I realized the request wasn't specific that only Diavolo did the courting and because Diavolo is babygirl/babyboy and deserves courting too.

Diavolo courting headcanons

(Diavolo x gn!MC) (SFW)

Diavolo has no idea how he’s supposed to court a human. He’s never courted anyone (except for Lucifer, in his own, naïve, convoluted and lovestruck way – and even then, he didn’t acknowledge it as courting). He’s been courted by a few brave witches and demons, but it didn’t go anywhere, so he doesn’t care to replicate someone else’s failed attempt at courting. Other than that, he’s only read whatever made it into his family’s history. His father didn’t speak about Diavolo’s mother – let alone their courtship. In short, this poor man is lost and scrambling the entire time.

He turns to Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon for advice. None of them are keen to help him seduce MC if they already like MC, but Solomon is the only one to actively sabotage Diavolo’s plans on occasion. Solomon has suggested that Diavolo pick one day a week to actively avoid you so you’ll want him more or that he fill your entire room up with balloons in your least favorite color so you can enjoy destroying them or that humans enjoy being watched while they sleep and doing so shows that you will protect them when they’re most vulnerable. Barbatos catches on to his weird plots and attempts to stop him if he’s at risk of troubling you. Barbatos just counts this as another reason to be a bitch to Solomon the next time he sees him.

Eventually, Diavolo decides that the best course of action is to do whatever he can to see that precious smile on your face and just be around you. He may not know what he’s doing, but he knows that nothing in any realm could feel better than when he catches your gaze in his and you smile at him affectionately.

As such, he asks you to accompany him in his study while he does paperwork late into the night. No one else has the privilege of bothering him while he works. Literally. Barbatos doesn’t allow anyone to interrupt Diavolo when he has important work to do. Diavolo sneaks you in when he asks you to keep him company. It’s actually a great environment for reading and studying. He feels more productive having you around (most of the time). Sometimes he’s distracted by his desire for you, and he takes a short break “to refocus.” If his paperwork isn’t confidential and you’re lonely, he’ll let you sit in his lap.

Some nights, Diavolo has so much work that you fall asleep to quiet music, scribbling, and pages turning. When Barbatos comes to deliver tea, only to find you asleep on the couch, he sighs and escorts or just straight up carries you to a spare room to rest. He’ll scold Diavolo in the morning, but he doesn’t put any extra effort to prevent Diavolo from sneaking you in – not after he saw how affectionately and longingly Diavolo stared at you when Barbatos sent you off to bed. Barbatos hates that he has such a soft spot for you both sometimes.

Diavolo doesn’t tell anyone, but once he establishes peace between all three realms, he wants to build an entire city in your honor. It’s one of the dreams that sustains him when he feels like a failure. He has to do this for you.

He wants his love for you written in history books. This man is down so bad, that he needs you to be remembered in the history of the Devildom. If your name died with you, he would tear the Devildom to pieces until every denizen memorized your name. You’re such a comfort in his daunting, stressful life, he needs your beauty to stain the world. This is the only way he can cope with the thought of you dying one day.

Diavolo will open entire public parks and gardens dedicated to you. If you’re shy or don’t want recognition, he does it secretly and only tells you that he opened it in your honor. Unfortunately, he always invites you to the opening ceremony, and anyone who sees the way he looks at you will know that this is all for you. He plants your favorite devildom plants or flowers that blossom in your favorite color. Usually, he includes some kind of water feature (pond, lake, elaborate fountains) or interesting sculpture. Sometimes they’re so romantic that he gets a bit jealous that other couples get to spend more time there with each other than he can with you.

With Solomon’s help, Diavolo imports your favorite human world flower and plants it somewhere hidden in the garden at the Demon Lord’s castle. He will not allow Barbatos to tend to the flowers and takes pride in the fact that he’s the only one keeping that gift to you alive. One time, he suddenly got too sick to leave his bed and couldn’t water the flowers, so he allowed Barbatos to water them. However, he sulked for a week afterwards, and Barbatos couldn’t raise his spirits no matter what he did. It was so troublesome that Barbatos decided the next time Diavolo was too sick to tend to the flowers, he would rather carry Diavolo there or transport him in a wheelchair and help Diavolo water the plants than do it himself.

The prince offers MC a lot of gifts – an excessive amount of gifts. He gives you clothes he thinks would look good on you, cute things (like charms, plushies, cups, etc.), delicious and often expensive food and drinks, and anything you seem to take interest in. This man would give you an entire armory if you wanted it. It gets to the point that it’s overwhelming (and would be uncomfortable for most humans. If you love gifts, you start running out of space to put things). Barbatos has to point out that he makes you uncomfortable if you won’t. (Or if you don’t get uncomfortable, Barbatos notes how cramped/cluttered your room is after delivering one of many gifts and informs Diavolo that he must cut back.) “My Lord, you ought to show some restraint. Certainly, MC will still adore you with a few less presents.”

Diavolo offers you his arm whenever you are walking in the same direction as him at RAD. He loves being your escort. Who else gets to say that the future king walked them to class? You have to understand that you’re special, right? He’ll offer to escort you if he has the time when he sees you around town, too. Diavolo will only stop offering if you ask him to. However, if you ask him to stop because others are being cruel to you due to his special attention, he will give you an option: he can be more secretive about his affection or he can deal with anyone who is cruel to you “in an appropriate manner.” Do not ask him to elaborate.

Speaking of being your escort. Diavolo loves to invite you to fancy parties. It’s a good way to make his intentions clear to you and any of your potential suitors (Suck it, Lucifer). Incidentally, it also sends a message to his own potential suitors (Suck it again, Lucifer). Besides, he wishes to keep you by his side in the future, so he’d like you to get more accustomed to royal affairs. But, mostly, he just likes showing off his beloved.

Diavolo is always the first person to ask for your hand at a dance – even if he didn’t invite you to the party. He’s very formal about it - he even bows to you and kisses your hand. Mephistopheles gives you shit about making Diavolo, of all demons, bow to a human. He’s a bit jealous, and he can’t stand the idea of Diavolo lowering himself or potentially harming his reputation by looking like such a lovestruck fool. (One time, Diavolo overheard this and informed Mephisto, “Ah, but I am a lovestruck fool for MC. Why should I not appear exactly as I am? Is there something unbecoming about me, Mephistopheles?” Mephisto let that shit go real quick.)

If Diavolo sees that you are stressed, upset, having a panic attack, etc, he’ll transform into his demon form and wrap his large wings around you as he holds you until you feel better. He knows he can’t protect you from everything all the time, but in that moment, he wants you to know that he will shield you from the entire world until you feel safe. If you get claustrophobic or this makes you more uncomfortable, it will break his heart a little bit, but he’ll work with you to figure out a better solution. He’ll do anything to make you feel safe and comfortable.

Diavolo spends time planning vacations with you instead of doing work around the holidays – which results in a rather annoyed Barbatos. Consequently, Barbatos forbids you from visiting the castle until Diavolo finishes his work. Diavolo ends up exhausted all week between catching up on his work and trying to plan the perfect vacation, which only frustrates Barbatos further. Eventually, he gets his work done. Barbs can’t even get mad at you because he knows you didn’t ask Diavolo to be so reckless with his time, but if you could find a way to get Diavolo to manage his time better or delegate vacation plans, Barbatos would be grateful beyond words.

MC does not need to do anything official to “court” Diavolo on their end, but any time you get him a gift, it means more than he can express – so long as you actually give it some thought. If it’s a couple’s/matching item, he will be over the moon – gushing over it around anyone who will listen. Every once in a while, Barbatos will consider asking you to avoid giving Diavolo matching presents because if he has to hear about a little acrylic charm for two weeks again, he’s going to use a glamour to make little D. no. 2 look like him and stand in his place.

You can melt Diavolo into a blushing mess if you offer him your hand or arm and escort him anywhere – but especially if you do it when getting out of a car or on the way to a party. If you ask him to dance, even if it’s somewhere secluded, he will feel adored. Whether it’s in front of the entire student body at a RAD party or a random balcony in the Demon Lord’s castle under the moonlight or in his study because a particular song started to play while he was working, he’ll be delighted and take your hand with a chuckle.

The best thing you could do to court Diavolo would be to take his hand and ask to visit either the mausoleum or wherever his father is being kept so that you can declare your affection for Diavolo in front of his ancestors/family. If you compliment him and bring an offering of flowers for his family, he might actually cry. He will never feel more desired than at that moment. If you ask for permission to be with him (although he would be equally happy if you just inform his family that you love him and plan to stay by his side), even if his father rose from his rest or his ancestors rose from the dead to deny you, he would go against them.

[luvletters4nagiseishiro]

break my heart | fuckboy!oikawa

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ oikawa is the school's most renowned playboy and he tries his best to win you over

cw: gn!reader, college au, slight angst, suggestive, but no smut, mutual pining

notes: the slightest blue lock crossover btw

you were irritating to him. the very thought of you boils his blood-- for the simple fact that you showed no interest in him whatsoever. he was the most popular amongst the school, his groupies heart-eyed at the sight of his face, a simple smile from him could make anyone blush- except you.

it was that one day that made him distraught, almost hysterical. you two were in a calculus workshop and sitting in between you two was your friend who had been trying her best to hide the fact that she was completely enamored with oikawa. it's been three weeks into the semester and you couldn't help but wonder what your friend megumi saw in him. to you he was just a pretty face who could set some volleyballs, nothing more.

on top of his obnoxious personality, it also annoyed you just a little bit how he excels in class for someone who you have never seen pick up a pen in the last two semesters. it just sucks that he's always on par with you even with all the hours you put into your studies, but you don't dwell on it too much.

"anyways,, this is boring. let's chat." oikawa grinned playfully, adjusting his body to face you and megumi.

"have you finished the work?" you don't even glance at him and continued to click away on your calculator.

"did it last night." he said casually, leaning against the chair.

how? before you question it any further, megumi piped in. "are you guys going to the music festival in the city this weekend?" her body is completely facing him, obvious that she is directing the question at him with an ulterior motive.

"hmm, i was planning to but i would need someone fun to go with or else it'd be boring." he mused, eyeing you as you don't even bother to face him when he's talking.

"i mean we could go toget-" but before megumi could even finish that sentence, he leaned in forward on the desk.

"if y/n went with me, i'd have a lot of fun." his cheshire cat smile never failed to send shivers down your spine. you turned to see megumi's scowl on her face which made you curse under your breath.

"no thank you." you said quietly, taking a quick glance at her sour expression.

"why not?" he whined, his eyes glinted with amusement as he waited for your reaction.

"i don't think i'd have fun with you at all." you said nonchalantly. you didn't lie. you didn't think you had anything in common with oikawa at all. even if you liked the same music, how strange would it be for you to go to that music festival with him out of all people?

his grin quickly faltered, his face turning blank. he retreated from his position and went slumped back into his chair. he was stumped. every time he tried to make an advance on you, you would just flat-out reject him with no hesitation. it's been like this for months and it's driving him crazy. he even asked in front of megumi on purpose. to show that he only wanted you. and no one else.

after that day, he decided to stop plotting ways to get your attention because he was so busy with club activities and an on-going tournament. that didn't stop him from being his cocky self, flirting with girls that would watch him at the gym and even entertaining the female professors.

but every time oikawa would catch a glimpse of you in class (he tries to at least once every 5 minutes), he couldn't help but feel a burning sensation in his chest at the fact that you still weren't his.

you only realised recently that he barely talked to you in class, his playful remarks were no longer the first thing you heard when you sat down, his teases were no longer distracting you when you tried to do the work. you felt slightly relieved that you were no longer a target of his antics, because you believed deep down that everything he said and did was just a ruse, something to keep him occupied in a boring class.

but, there was a feeling of emptiness that you felt whenever you expected him to give you a witty comment, but he doesn't. and he just looked away. suddenly, every time you saw him entertain someone else you were trying to figure out why your heart would ache in response. why your stomach would churn whenever he paid megumi the slightest attention- knowing that she was obsessed with him. you knew it was just his personally. it was natural for him as a playboy to find new girls to toy around with. but why did it bother you so much?

your other friend reo tasked you with going into the boy's locker room and dropping off his textbook during his soccer practice. you didn't know why he thought it was a good idea, but you couldn't say no because his notes have been practically saving your grades in your economics classes. you thought it'd be easy to do it around this time because everyone is occupied in the gyms training.

walking in, you immediately dropped the textbook in shock when you saw oikawa shirtless and covered in sweat. he was just about to change when he caught your eyes. "so you're sneaking into locker rooms to get a peak of me now?" the cockiest grin formed on his face, the grin that you denied you missed so much.

blood rushed to your cheeks as you took in the sight. beads of sweat glistened on his abs and defined arms, somehow accentuating every line of his defined muscles. your train of thought snapped when he stepped closer to you, the grin not leaving his very, hot face. you couldn't deny it anymore, as much as you tried to. oikawa was extremely hot. no matter how distasteful his personality was to you, his face card would never decline.

"who's this for?" he cocked his head as he picked up the textbook you dropped on the ground and handing it you.

"um. it's for reo." you mutter to the ground, not daring to make eye contact with him in this situation.

he groaned, "soccer players." he took another step closer to you, forcing you to look up at him. so tall. you thought.

he was too close, his lips were only a few inches from yours. and before you could take a step back, his right hand gripped your waist to keep you close to him. "you're really hard to please y/n." he whispered into your ear. the sensation tickling your outer ear, sending shivers down your spine. your heart has never raced this hard before.

"i don't know what you mean..." you breathed out. he lowered his gaze and you felt his breath on your neck, causing even worse heart palpitations.

"i nearly gave up on you, y'know." you tried to step back but for some reason you were frozen in place, you wanted to leave somehow but the feeling of his large hand keeping you in place gave you butterflies in your stomach.

"but seeing you now, i never wanted you more." that sentence alone made you lightheaded. and before your brain could process it any further, your body moved on its own to pull him in for a kiss.

his eyes widened at the sudden advance, unexpected from you to make any move, but it didn't take him long to kiss you back, and hard. he groaned, your lips practically molding together. his left hand kept your head in place. his other hand gripped your waist tightly, making sure not to let go. he didn't ever want to let go.

oikawa's lips were soft, and so was his hair when you tugged at the back of his head, dropping the textbook once more. he groaned against your lips when you matched his roughness.

but you forcefully pulled away, breathless. "oh fuck..." you cursed under your breath. it way was too hot in that room.

"that was not. i am not-" before you could start to make excuses for yourself, he interrupted you.

"are you free tonight?" he queried, giving you an all-too-familiar grin.

"yes." you blurted out, not thinking straight. but the idea of continuing what you started with oikawa after a date didn't seem too bad.

notes: a smut pt.2 would go well with this

[all-hail-trudos]

Currently rewatching LotR for the first time in a decade, and I am deeply disappointed in Tumblr for the fact that I haven't seen anyone pointing out how Ride-or-Die Merry and Pippin are. When I saw the movies, I'd already read the books. They were reasonably fresh on my mind even. I knew Merry and Pippin had been watching Frodo with Sam's help like a group of hungry hawks. They'd had their bags packed, goodbyes said, and walking staves in hand before Frodo even stepped out of Bag End. So while the movie didn't show any of that, kid me filled in the gaps and figured that was roughly what was happening.

That is not how it goes down this time. Pippin and Merry are c l u e l e s s. They know nothing. They bump into Frodo and Sam purely by coincidence while stealing Farmer Maggot's vegetables. Everyone has to run for it because the good Farmer is coming to see justice done, they tumble over a cliff, and then suddenly Frodo is screaming "guys we gotta hide! NOW!". Then this creepy af tall man on an almost equally creepy horse shows up, and even the insects are fleeing this monster. A moment of quick thinking is the only thing that saves them from God only knows what kind of grisly end. It's just another logical step for Merry, playing the last two minutes over and over again in his head, to declare that this thing is after Frodo.

After that it's an immediate cut to the four of them running down the road to the ferry. Going as fast as their hobbit legs will let them. Then off the ferry and on to Bree, the Inn, and Rivendell in the company of Strider. There is no contemplation of saying "you got problems, bro. Good luck." Nor are they even running interference and trying to distract the Nazgul while Frodo makes a break for it. They've (literally) fallen into a quest and By God they will see it through. They don't even stop to ask what's going on or why Frodo's leaving. His problems are their problems, pure and simple. If that means dropping everything, setting off without cloaks or walking sticks, or even saying good bye, that's just the price you pay for being there for your bro. (But seriously, we never see them actually ask what's going on. No details are shared on screen. They know next to nothing other than Frodo is danger. People who've seen the extended edition, please tell me if that changes in the extra fifty minutes of footage.)

It gets even funnier better at the council of Rivendell. Frodo is stepping up and taking the weight of the world on his shoulders? Say no more. Genuinely say no more in the case of Pippin. Guy has to ask where they're going because he missed that part. God alone knows what else he missed. (Probably everything except Frodo saying "I'll do it".) They're the farthest they've ever been from home, they understand they're basically now signing up to head off to the very ends of the earth and maybe not come back. They'll probably never get to say goodbye to all their friends and family back home. None of that is important. Frodo's problems are their problems. It's non-negotiable. And it's quietly one of the most beautiful parts of an already beautiful series.

[bonesox]

OM! Brothers and The Little Ways They Say They Love You

a/n: Sorry if some of the writing is sloppy. Also wanted to thank you all for the support you have given me <3

Lucifer:

Since his plate is alway full of things to do he barely finds time to actually be with you alone. It's either you, him and his brothers or you, him and his work. He had to come up with a way to keep showing his love without being around.

It would start with him leaving you good morning notes. He was always up before everyone else in the house so he would sneak in to your room and slip the note, and maybe even a special gift, on your bedside table. Each note would detail his exact thoughts about you. If you had done your hair nicely he would write about it. If you had made him laugh he would write about it. If you had done anything whatsoever he would write about it!

When you two had alone time he, of course, would say "I love you", but sometimes actions speak louder than words. He would set up a cozy spot for you to cuddle up in and lock the door so no one could distract him. He would tell Diavalo the previous day about his plans with you so he would not ruin it when the time came. You do anything from talking to watching a movie to other things [ ;) ].

Mammon:

When his words do fail, which is most of the time.. he just loved you so much, he tries to come up with other ways to say it. He tried to leave letters, but felt a little embarrassed writing about you and the things he loves about you.

He would go out and pick some of the flowers you had/have pointed out while walking with him. When a random vase of beautiful wild flowers magically appeared in your room over night you knew exactly who they were from. Once the flowers started to die he would replace them. After a few months he showed you a scrap book he had made of each type of flower he had picked for you. Next to each flower he would write a snippet about each journey he had taken with you to discover each flower.

Sometimes he would prepare a special meals for just the two of you (with help). He might go over board with the food every time, but he always gets so excited to share a meal with you. Later into the evening he would always hand you a gift he had saved up for. You never knew what it could be... maybe a candy ring, a real ring, or even gift baskets of the very things you love.

Leviathan:

Though it may not seem like it he is quite the romantic... at least mostly online. Since he gets too flustered to say he tries to come up with other ways to say it.

There was a new roleplaying game that was coming out soon and he had been bringing it up to you over and over again. In the game you could play with friends, build a cozy home, go on adventures, and maybe even start a family... Haha, but he didn't tell you the last part. While playing the game you both acted like a married couple making sure each other were healthy, there was enough money and food, and that the house was tidy. When the option to get married came up in the game there was a silence in the room... he had no idea what to even say! You had agreed to get married which lifted a weight off his shoulders. He may even call you his partner (married) in real life by accident.

When he does build up the courage to actually vocalize his feelings to you he wants it to be perfect. He sets up a place in a garden and take you there at night. While sitting on a bench he starts talking about all the fun things you did together that week. Then it turns into all the things he loves doing with you... which then turns into him repeating over and over again that he loves you. While you sit there in the moonlight you hold each others hands and rest your heads on each other. This boy sure does love you.

Satan:

Since he had been punished for the whole month there was nothing he could do outside of the house except for go to school. He had wanted to take you on so many dates, but there was a limit to what he could and couldn't do.

He had been studying the stars for a few weeks now and he wanted to share them with you. He takes you out into the garden on a clear night where a picnic blanket is set up with a few snacks and drinks. Laying down he points at the stars and names them. Once you got cold he would wrapped you up in a blanket and lay with you.

He had been getting into this very famous human poet, William Shakespeare. He became completely enthralled by his sonnets. Some were snarky and others were lovely. He had decided to write a few for you. Each sonnet contained all of your best qualities (all of them). Each night he would read one to you while you sat under the stars.

Asmodeus:

Though he says "I love you" 100 times a day he doesn't think it really gets through to you. He had to come up with a perfect idea just to get that point across!

In the morning there was a little note left on your mirror saying later that day to meet Asmo in his room for a little surprise. When the time came you went to his room to find out what he had planned. When you entered his room you could smell a beautiful aroma coming from his bathroom with the sound of water running. He quickly undressed you and put you in a robe that just so happened to be matching with him. He quickly lead you into the bathroom where a bath/s [depends on what you want ;)] was being drawn with bubbles almost spilling out the top of them. Next to the tub/s there was little snacks, drinks and some face mask. You both hopped into the tub/s with a feeling of relief coming from both of you.

While he could buy you everything you wanted nothing beat spending quality time together. You both were wrapped up in a blanket cuddling near the fireplace as it snapped and popped. You laid on each other as the fire slowly died out and once it did you both fell asleep right in each others arms.

Beelzebub:

This man loves you to the moon and back... there was no doubt about that, but sometimes he wants to show you how far he is willing to go just to do that.

He prepares a special breakfast just for you. The willpower it took to cook with food, bring it up to you, and hand it to you without eating it was intense. He would sit on your bed with his head in your lap, near your legs, or he was just sitting right next to you. He would watch as you took every single bite and would try to hide the drool that would fall down from his mouth. After a while of watching you he would ask for ONE bite.. he would also specify this so he wouldn't eat all of your food. When you do feed him the bite you can see in his eyes that he wants even more. He, of course, politely ask for a second bite.. and then a third, then a fourth, and before you know it he is licking your plate clean.

Since in is free time he is working out he takes you with him! His work out isn't much just 100 sit up, 100 push ups, 100 pull ups, run for 12 miles... and so on depending on how much time he has in a day. He always starts his work outs in his room. He had ask you to hold his feet for him while he did his sit ups. When he started doing them he had a sly smile on his face every time he came up. He whispered something to you when he got close to your face... and then every single time after that he would do it. Who knows what he said... but the workout soon ended after that ;).

Belphegor:

There is only so many hours in a day when one spends most of them sleeping. With these limited hours awake he wanted to make sure he spends most, if not all, of them with you.

He had taken you on a trip to the grocery store for an errand he had to run. As you went down the isles it had reminded you that you were quite hungry. For every thing you pointed out he would put in the cart. Later that night you both cooked something up with what you had gotten.

Since he cant get enough hours while being awake with you he wanted to spend all his hours asleep with you! He had cleared out one of his drawers so you could add some of your clothing to it and he also cleared a space in his bathroom for your things. Though you live in the same house and it would be easy to get these things from your room he just wanted them there so you didn't have to move! Each night you would fall asleep in his arms.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Alliance || Total Drama ||

After finding out Duncan cheated on you with Gwen, Alejandro offers you an alliance as revenge against Duncan. 

Pairing: Duncan x Reader x Alejandro 

Warnings: Cheating (not reader), fem implied reader 

Words: As I’m finally coming out of my writer’s block, I present this! Maybe a little self-indulgent because I like Alejandro and Duncan. Oops—Might make a second part if people like it though.

| Not my GIFs |

Your cheering for Cody ceased when Tyler blurted out the secret he’s been holding back. It took a moment to register in your head, not wanting to believe it. Duncan didn’t actually kiss Gwen, right? Your boyfriend and best friend wouldn’t have done that to you. It had to have been a strategy the other team came up with to throw you off. Pitting you against each other so you’d be distracted during the challenges. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, the distraction immediately working. 

“He said that Duncan kissed G—,” Alejandro repeated. 

You were quick to cut him off before turning to face Gwen. “I heard what he said! Gwen? Is that true?” 

She looked at you with guilt written all over her face that only confirmed it. She took a step back, as if expecting you to fight her. And for a moment you thought about it, anger quick to take over. Except heartbreak was quicker to hit when you fully accepted the situation. Your boyfriend and best friend kissed behind your back. 

You turned to look at Duncan who gave you a just as equally guilty look. You had hoped that by looking at him he’d shut down Tyler’s rumor. But when he looked away, you knew it was all true. Your heart cracked in your chest, and everyone was silent, waiting to see what you’d do. Both Duncan and Gwen watched you closely and you could see the fear on their faces. You never got mad or raised your voice, you were one of the few reasonable contestants on this show. It’s what made you so likable and kind of scary with everyone wondering if you’d ever snap. Today might just be the day. 

You turned to look at Cody who hadn’t moved yet, he was watching to see what happens next. No doubt scared that you might do something to Gwen. You kind of felt bad for him, he was sort of betrayed too. It can’t be fun knowing the girl you’ve been pining over kissed someone else. 

“Cody, start flying if you want to win this. Otherwise, if we lose, we’ll be voting Gwen off tonight,” you tell him. 

Your voice is eerily calm but it’s enough to set Cody flapping his poorly made wings. Your words made him determined to win, more so with his team agreeing with you. The Amazons won the challenge in the end which meant Gwen was safe for now. It also meant that Duncan had a chance to be voted off and although you were heartbroken, you didn’t want to see him go yet. 

Once your team is back in first class, you're left alone with your thoughts. And everyone wants to know what you’ll do to Gwen. Courtney is immediately giving you ideas, completely on your side. She had a crush on Duncan, but when he admitted he felt the same for you, she became your number one supporter. Which meant she was the embodiment of your anger now. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Gwen asks, approaching you with a guilty look on her face. 

“She has nothing to say to you!” Courtney exclaimed, standing in front of you. 

Gwen took a step back but looked over at you, nonetheless, silently pleading with you. Courtney looked at you too, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl on her face. You knew you should talk to her about this, but you didn’t want to. Not right now. 

“You heard her, I don’t have anything to say,” you repeat. 

She sighs heavily and walks away with a defeated look on her face. As much as she liked the kiss with Duncan, nothing could get rid of the guilt she felt. She hadn’t meant to betray you like that, it just sort of happened. At least, that’s how she likes to remember it. 

“We can so vote her off in the next challenge,” Courtney says once she’s gone. 

You shake your head, a defeated and broken look on your face. “It won’t change anything.” 

“No, but it’ll make you feel better. And it gives me an excuse to boot her out,” Courtney offers, trying to cheer you up. 

She liked you, which is rare for her, especially given the circumstances. This wasn’t exactly the place to make friends, but she became friends with you. You were the only person she’d deemed worthy enough to make it to the final two. Which is why she was angry for you. And maybe something else that she’d never admit. 

You offer a smile, strained but good enough to seem cheery. “I’d still rather play fair. If we happen to lose a challenge then whatever happens, happens.” 

That was enough for her, deciding to make your team purposely lose. People would suspect it from you but not from her. She could even get Sierra and Heather in on it. 

You wanted to be alone after, sneaking away from first class. You found a corner hidden away from everyone and sank down. Being alone meant you finally felt everything that just happened. Your boyfriend really kissed your best friend. You felt your heart crack inside your chest and the dam finally burst. 

You sobbed into your hands, using them to muffle whatever noises left you. It almost worked, had a certain someone not been snooping around. Alejandro found you in your corner crying your heart out. It’s exactly as he had hoped for. To get you alone and charm his way into your trust. Except standing in front of you now, he wasn’t so sure of his plan. 

“May I offer some comfort?” he asks, sitting beside you. 

You stop crying immediately and wipe your tear stained cheeks. You clear your throat and look away. “No, I’m fine. Completely fine.” 

“Of course, I didn’t mean to insinuate you weren’t,” he says, giving you a charming and gentle smile. 

You furrow your brows and stare at him, seeing straight through him. You didn’t trust Alejandro, from the beginning of this season. You saw what he did to Bridgette and LeShawna. You weren’t going to let him get to you the same way. 

“What do you want?” you ask. 

“My, I didn’t expect such a beautiful lady to be so harsh,” he places a hand over his heart and feigns being hurt. 

It makes you roll your eyes and cross your arms. “Listen, you may have everyone fooled but not me. And I’m not in the mood right now.” 

“I know,” he smiles again, this time showing his true intentions behind it. You were too smart for your own good and there was no point pretending. “But I figured now was as good a time as any.” 

“For?” 

“I propose an alliance between the two of us.” 

“You want an alliance with me? Why?” your eyes narrow and you’re even more weary of him. 

He was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to answer. What excuse could he say without giving away how he really felt? He didn’t want to admit that he actually felt bad and angered. No one should have ever broken your heart, much less someone like Duncan. But saying that out loud would mean having to admit how he felt. He wouldn’t. In a competition like this, feelings were a weakness. 

“To get back at Duncan, of course,” he answers. “If he sees us working together, it’ll irk him. Seeing you move on will definitely be a punch to the gut.” 

“Oh right, it’ll definitely be a punch to the gut when he’s making out with Gwen,” your voice cracks at the end, vision blurring. 

Alejandro’s heart wrenches at your sadness and anger bubbles in his chest. Duncan didn’t deserve you, not for a second. He abandoned you at the beginning of the competition and you just accepted him like it was nothing when he came back. He hated it and he hated you a little bit for it. Except now was his chance to get you to see him and forget about Duncan. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulders without thinking about it. Your pulled closer to him, facing him only inches away. “No offense, but you’re not exactly my type.” 

He laughs and gives you an ever so charming smile. “Don’t worry, that’s not my intention,” he lies. 

“And what are your intentions?” 

“It’s like I said, an alliance with you. Not only will it be revenge on Duncan but I’ll take you to the final two with me.” 

“Oh really? Why would you take me to the final two? I would’ve imagined you’d want someone like Heather.” 

“Heather? While she is lovely, she’s not my type. And I happen to like someone else,” he says, looking at you earnestly. 

Your heart skips a beat and you blame it on your bundled feelings. You push him away, making space between the two of you. Honestly, his deal sounded nice even if he ended up double crossing you. At least you could distract yourself from what Duncan and Gwen did. 

“Okay, on one condition. If you stab me in the back at any point, you vote yourself off.” 

He doesn’t even hesitate as he answers, all that matters is that he’s got you on his side. “Deal.”