#but i know the odds of being a Special Person in one of those works

[cryptidghostgirl]

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Valentines day special :) How Y/n and Alastor met and fell in love.

Warnings: Cannibalism, cannon levels of violence and gore and the like. Gender neutral reader.

Word Count: 2,686

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I am getting to requests, I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy for Valentine's Day :)

Loving Alastor was like dancing for Y/n. It was something they did by nature. There had never been a period of having to learn and they didn’t have to be good at it, they just had to try. Sure, he could be mean. He could be quick to anger and cruel but, so could everyone. It was worth it in their mind. He was wonderful enough that all the bad was more than manageable.

Alastor had not had the same experience when it came to Y/n. They were nothing if not stubborn and from the moment he met them, Alastor didn’t really know what to do with them. He had tried all the usual tricks: getting them to make a deal, threatening to put their voice in his next broadcast, the usual things that normally worked quite well. Y/n had just brushed them all off with a light hearted laugh as if each and every one of them had been some poorly planned joke on his part.

When he had realized none of his normal tricks were going to work, Alastor had tried to avoid the strange demon. He had done everything he could to stop seeing Y/n save for out right murdering them. While normally that would be an option, perhaps the best option, something about the way they thought it was all a joke just took the entertainment right out of it for Alastor. It was no fun if they weren’t scared and Y/n seemed like the type of person who’d keep laughing until the very end. He was sure their murder would just wind up being unsatisfying, maybe even vaguely off putting. It just wasn’t worth it in his mind.

Y/n on the other hand, had taken quite the liking to the feared Radio Demon and his straight edged sense of humor. Of course, they’d heard the stories about him. If anyone had asked them the truth back in those days, they would have admitted it was all an act. That secretly, beneath it all, the were scared of Alastor, that they were just trying to save face. The thing was that while he did freak them out a bit, send the odd shiver down their spine with his grin, they also found him intriguing. Y/n, like any demon, liked being entertained and Alastor? Well, he was the most entertaining thing they’d come across in years.

They had tracked him down all over the rings of Hell, there was no escape. Everywhere Alastor turned, he was met with their kind and oddly appealing face. At last, he had relented. Giving in to Y/n’s persistence, the two entered into a mildly uneasy contract of friendship.

They were his antithesis in every sense of the word. Where Alastor was prim and proper, put together and always well dressed Y/n was rather wild and undone. Where he had nearly perfect manners even when feasting on the flesh of unsuspecting demons, Y/n always seemed just slightly out of their depth. Somehow, they also seemed to always end up on top. It irritated Alastor in a way. He worked hard for his image, to get what he had. Y/n just seemed to stumble into their fortune, winning because they were too hard headed to do anything else rather than because they particularly deserved it.

It was a loose relationship they had. The occasional run in, the once in a while team up against someone neither of them liked. Not enemies, but not quite anything else either. An uncomfortable and confusing middle ground. Alastor liked it that way, he kept it that way. If Y/n was a distant facet of his life, then things didn't have to be confusing. Things could be normal and alright and under his control, just how he liked them.

It was the day Alastor walked in on them in his library that his opinion began to shift. Y/n had broken in, and inelegantly at that. The glass of one of the windows was completely gone, shattered in unrecognizable shards across the floor. He was about to yell, to attack them even, as he rounded the sofa they were lounging on. That was when he realized that the book they had pulled from his shelf was in Latin. He had stopped, staring at them in mild surprise. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that they even seemed to notice he was there.

“You broke my window.” he had said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

“Yeah, sorry.” Y/n waved him off, barely looking up from their book, “Can you remind me what gravidis means?”

“Gravidis?” Alastor repeated after a moment, taken aback as always by their casual manner of being.

“Yeah.” they sighed, at last letting the book fall face up into their lap as they met Alastor’s eyes, “You don’t have a dictionary in here and know it is an adjective. I remember it meaning pregnant? But this is Thyestes, famously known as Seneca’s play without women so it can’t be. That doesn’t make sense, I just can’t think of what else it could be.”

“I didn’t know you knew Latin.”

“So?” Y/n had shrugged, raising the book to their eyes once again, “You don’t know a lot about me. Just cause I know how to have fun doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Gravidis. Help me. Now."

They were silent for a moment. Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Please.”

“It can also mean laden down, heavy, things such as that I believe.”

They carefully examined the words on the page, their mouth moving silently as they read. Suddenly, their eyes went wide, a smile breaking its way across their face.

“Oh my gosh wait, Seneca was so smart." they had exclaimed, barely looking up at Alastor, "He’s full of his children, laden down or whatever, because he eats them but it’s a perversion of pregnancy so that’s why Seneca used gravidis. I love him so much!! That’s literally such an insane move to pull.”

Yes, that had been the first thing. The first event to occur that caused the switch to flip in Alastor's head, made him stop seeing Y/n as so much of an irritation and rather more as an object of curiosity. Still, he did not seek them out. Still, he kept their conversations short and to the point. That was until the second major event occurred.

A few weeks later, Alastor was visiting Rosie in Cannibal Town. The pair were quietly having tea in the back room of her shop, catching up and enjoying one another's company. It had been quiet and pleasant. That was, until there was a knock at the door.

Alastor could picture it like it had happened yesterday. Rosie had gently placed her cup and saucer on the table, calling for the person to enter. It had been one of her employees, shaking in the doorway in fear of the pair of overlords. He had announced that there was a guest and in response to Rosie's furrowed brow, Y/n had peered out from behind the demon with a little wave.

Rosie had lit up immediately, getting to her feet and pulling the younger demon into her arms. Y/n had sighed, pretending to be irritated by the affection. Alastor could have sworn he caught a smile as they at last freed themself from Rosie's grip and sat down lazily on the couch.

"Y/n, dearest, I don't believe you've met Alastor. He is one of my oldest friends."

Y/n had shot Alastor a menacing look, halfway between a joke and a challenge.

"Oh we've crossed paths once or twice." they had hummed, grabbing a finger from the box on the table and popping it into their mouth.

Alastor rubbed his temples in irritation, sighing deeply.

"You broke into my house three weeks ago. I would not call that crossing paths."

Rosie looked between the pair for a moment in surprise before she broke out into peels of laughter. Alastor looked up, confused at the reaction as Rosie calmed herself. She took a deep breath, a hand to her chest.

"I should have known." she smiled, "You two would be close."

Y/n and Alastor had shared a look.

"So, how do you two know one another?" he asked after a tense moment.

Rosie smiled, grabbing Y/n's hand in one of her own and rubbing their knuckles gently with her thumb.

"Y/n here is my favorite protege."

"What?" Alastor asked in utter disbelief.

"Yep." Y/n nodded with a smile, "Rosie took me under her wing when I first arrived. She's a true peach."

It didn't take much time after that for Y/n to realize that the nature of their interest in Alastor was maybe not so innocent after all. They came to terms with the fact that it was something more that mild curiosity, a thirst for entertainment, with relative ease. It was just who they were. Of course it made sense the dangerous demon with a quick wit and sharp teeth would be the object of their affection.

Alastor on the other hand had barley come to terms with the fact that Y/n might be worth his time in any capacity when a few months later, he walked in on them murdering another demon. He had heard a noise from a nearby ally when taking an after dinner stroll. His sense of intrigue getting the better of him, Alastor had turned down it.

At the end of the dead end ally were a pair of demons. One was sitting on the other, hunched over it and tearing at it's skin with their elongated claws. Sensing they were no longer alone, they sat straight up and turned their wide eyes to the ally's entrance.

That was when Alastor had realized two things. One, the demon who had been attacking the other demon was, in fact, Y/n. They were soaked in someone else's blood, their hair wilder than normal and their eyes wide with surprise. They smiled, their teeth sharp points.

"Alastor!" They happily called to him, "Want some?"

That was when he realized the second thing: Y/n was beautiful. He looked away immediately, quickly turning his back on the scene as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"No." he hurriedly called over his shoulder, "I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

He heard the rustling of fabric as Y/n stood from the demon and walked over to him. Taking a deep breath, Alastor turned to them as they stopped beside him. Y/n shrugged casually.

"I'm not really hungry, I just was bored. You wouldn't be spoiling anything."

For Alastor, loving Y/n was like a disease. It was a diagnosis, the doctor refused to meet his eyes when he broke the news. It was terminal, his death hinged on them.

He spoke to Rosie. She was far from the neutral party on the matter he desired but, Alastor didn't know where else to go. She had smiled brightly when he had revealed the truth of his confusion, made some comment about knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. From that point on, he and Y/n were inseparable. Somehow, they always managed to find their way to one another's sides.

They never said anything about it because they didn't need to. It was fundamental, they each felt the need from one another. The gentle touches were enough, the bright smiles, the lingering gazes. They both knew how the other felt just like they both knew that no matter what happened or how long they were apart, they would always wind up back together.

Y/n was not worried when Alastor disappeared. It wasn't the first time and they knew it wouldn't be the last. They knew he always ended up okay. It was, however, most certainly the longest time they'd spent without him since meeting the Radio Demon. When, seven years after his departure, they caught the familiar static of his voice through the radio, trashing Vox who had tried to fill Alastor's shoes in his absence, it didn't take long for Y/n to track him down.

They rang the bell to the Hazbin Hotel, looking fondly up at the radio tower that had been haphazardly added to the side of the building near the roof. There were some shouts, some quiet footsteps, and the door swung open. Standing behind it was none other than the princess of Hell herself, Charlie Morningstar.

"Hello, would you like to check in?" she asked with a bright and kind smile.

Y/n looked over her shoulder to the lobby. Sitting on the couch within were a handful of demons, some familiar and some not so much. They shifted their gaze back to Charlie as a smaller, gray demon missing an eye came up behind her.

"Is the Radio Demon here?" Y/n asked, clasping their hands expectantly before them as they rocked back and forth on their heels.

Charlie exchanged a sceptic look with the demon behind her.

"You're not here to attack him, are you?"

"Something like that." Y/n hummed in response.

Before any of them could say another word, Alastor pulled himself from the shadows behind Charlie and the other demon. Y/n's breath caught in their throat.

"I thought I heard someone at the door." he stated, eyes fixed on Charlie, "Is everything quite all right?"

"Yeah." Charlie replied after a moment, "I think so at least. They asked for you?"

As Charlie spoke, Y/n slipped past her, walking right up to Alastor. Vaggie grabbed her girlfriend's arm, drawing her attention to the situation at hand. Charlie stopped speaking, watching the pair of demons intently. Alastor looked down with wide eyes as Y/n stood their ground, their hands on their hips and a slightly irritated expression on their face.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” they stated matter of factly.

“You found me.”

“You happy about that?”

It was the first time either of them had really addressed the reality of their emotional situation. It was the first time either had ever asked instead of just assuming. Alastor’s smile softened as he realized the great Y/n, awe inspiring demon, afraid of no one and nothing, was nervous. They looked away, their hands fiddling with the cuffs of their sleeves as they waited for him to answer the question.

“Of course I am.” Alastor hummed, grabbing their shoulder and pulling them into his chest, “Don’t be a fool.”

Gently, he wrapped his arms around their smaller form, holding them close. There was a delicacy to his movements, a fear to harm. Charlie watched in excitement. Surly if someone like the Radio Demon could treat someone with such care, such grace, such… love, surly that meant that even Alastor himself had a chance at redemption. His chance was rough around the edges. It had bruised knees, messy hair, and a crooked grin. His chance wore beat up old converse and was easy to excite.

“You’re the fool.” Y/n shot back, their voice muffled by the fabric of his coat as they slowly wrapped their arms around his waist in return.

“Oh yeah?” Alastor chuckled fondly, planting a soft kiss on the top of their head.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, lifting their head slightly so they could meet his eyes.

“And why is that?”

Y/n thought for a moment. Their cheeks flushed pink as they shrugged.

“I don’t know. You just are.”

Alastor chuckled lightly and released Y/n from his grip. They took a step back away from him but not before sliding one of their hands into one of his. They slotted together like they were cut from the same stone.

“Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”

“Even if I do, you’ll just find me again.”

“Yep.” Y/n nodded, “It’ll take more than seven years to get me off your back.”

Alastor squeezed their hand gently.

“I’ll remember that.”

[syoounn]

•A little scenario saying they are handsome (part 2)

•Characters: Fyodor, Nikolai, Poe

(Part 1)

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Fyodor

You were quietly staring and admiring Fyodor's appearance as he made eye contact with you as it surprise you.

"Is something the matter?" He lifts an eyebrow, taking off his coat and putting it onto the coat peg. "You're gazing at me quite odd."

"Nothing.." you said shyly.

As usual, Fyodor sees through you rather easily. He approaches you with light, silent steps and cups your face in his hands, scrutinizing you intently with those violet eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm.. you're just handsome.."

He huffs out a sound that's a near to a laugh, a rare sight. His eyes, however, remain calm and serious as ever, and they seem to be inspecting you as if you were a book. Slowly, Fyodor leans forward until the tips of your noses are nearly touching, and his voice is a mere whisper when he speaks again. "What are you up to, my dear?"

"Im not up to anything..." you said.

His eyes glint with amusement, and he allows himself a mischievous smirk. Fyodor's thumb gently caresses your cheekbone, and he speaks in a low voice. "I know you better than you know yourself, my dear. That's not very convincing, is it?"

As if wanting to test his own theory, Fyodor's left hand now sneaks around your neck until his fingertips skim over your skin. A shiver makes its way down your spine at the gesture, the faintest of touches, yet full of intention. He chuckles. "Ah. See? I know you are far better. Your body betrays you, my love."

"And now you blush." His eyes gleam in triumph. Fyodor's thumb brushes over your cheek again before he brings his face close to your ear, and his breath is hot on your skin. "You know I always see through you, no matter how elaborate your schemes. After all, you are mine."

It's so endearing how you are trying to hold on to your secret. Without warning, he suddenly pushes you against the nearest wall, the hand around you neck keeping you caged in place as he presses his body against yours, and his eyes glint with a mixture of teasing and hunger.

You'll have to pray for yourself tonight...

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Nikolai

“Guess what I did today~?” He exclaims excitedly.

"Dangerous stuff..?" you said.

“Of course not, my love!”

He pouts, and you can hear him being sarcastic about this as he hugs you. He rests his head on top of yours. He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, and he rests his chin on your head.

“I was just doing simple work for Dostoevsky…”

“A boring mission at that - I just had to disguise myself as another man’s secretary! They were so fooled, too… they thought I was this boring person, and not the great Nikolai!” He says proudly before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He spins you around to kiss your lips properly.

"Mhm... The great Nikolai is handsome after all.."

He grins as he kisses you and lifts you up in his arms. He is quite strong, so doing this isn’t a problem for him, even if you are quite tall as well. He holds you up in his arms with a gleeful look on his face.

“You think so, dove?”

He hums, He’s always been overly affectionate. He’s like a puppy if a puppy was a psychotic mass murderer.

“But, if you really think I’m handsome…”

He gently rests you against the counter, standing between your legs, holding your waist as he smiles down at you.

“How about I show you just how handsome I am~?”

He rests his hands on your hips, his hands slowly tracing circles on your body.

“A little performance, perhaps?”

He leans in and whispers into your ear, his mouth so close to your skin that you can see a sly, mischievous grin on his face.

"Performance..?" you said, confused.

“Tada! As my dove, you get a very, very special performance! One that no one has ever seen before…”

He lifts up your chin and captures your lips in a kiss. He kisses you with a feverish passion, one that makes you not question how someone as strange as him had been able to pull you.

He is always very gentle with you, even if he can be very… cruel when it comes to his other activities. But you just hope you'll enjoy his performance tonight.

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Poe

Poe was currently working on the noble as you looked at him with curiosity while Karl was laid down on your lap sleeping soundly.

"Could you come closer..?" you said.

Upon being asked to come closer, Poe set down his pen and got up from the desk, walking over to you and stopping beside you, looking down at your sitting form.

“Is there anything you need, darling?” he asked a small smile across his face, his attention on you now and not on his work.

You lift up his bangs as you smile

"You're very handsome,"

He flushed a little upon hearing these words and smiles, and you called him handsome. Soon, a small embarrassed giggle left past his lips as his bangs were held up by you, revealing more of his face.

“Thank you- you’re very pretty too..” *he muttered out, leaning down a bit as to not pull your hand away as you held his bangs up with your other hand free hand to do as you pleased with it, his face was flushing a little.

Poe blushed a bit upon having his bangs lifted by you. You can see his flustered face.. it was cute.

“You are beyond beautiful. Perhaps you should model for me sometime?”

"Model?.." you said, confused.

Poe nodded, a warm smile on his face.

“Yes! To model, maybe for a book cover, for example, or to help me with some art references, I’m sure you would look amazing in whatever you did.”

Poe took a seat next to you and gently held your cheek in his hand. His gaze was filled with an immense amount of love as he smiled, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Would you like to model for me, my love?”

That took you off guard, making you blush as you nodded shyly.

Poe practically grinned at your agreement, gently pulling your face closer as he kissed your forehead before speaking again, his tone softer.

“Do you perhaps have something in mind you would like to model? Like a dress, or something else?”

Both of you spent time discussing it..as it was the nicest and sweetest day you've had.

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Yandere Student Council 

You just needed to get your schedule officialized. Having gained special permissions to take a desired course you needed the student council’s collective stamps of approval to proceed. Normally all you would need to do was slip in the necessary documents. But something seems to keep happening to yours and it just works better for you to do it in person. Thus begins you’re journey of getting the obsessed student council’s approval.

The first one you go to is the one with the easiest access –the Secretary. Gill Hunter has an absolute poker face when his boyfriend isn’t around. So you’re pleasantly surprised when he’s actually willing to hear you out. Keeping his amber eyes on you he listens to your plea for his stamp, seemingly not reacting at all he promises to help you—for a price. You have to step in for him and his boyfriend from time to time. He says it's just a week as he demands you shadow him for the day. Calling to you in his monotone voice to join him in the student council lounge. Don’t bother bringing up you’re friends or your desire to eat your lunch alone. Even as the week comes to an end and you get your stamp he has you working closely with both him and his boyfriend very closely as an honorary assistant.

“Most if not all schedules go through me, you don’t want your schedule being messed up again. Do you?”

The next one is Gill’s beloved–the Historian. June Frimroar is a different kind of person you need to get a stamp from. Where Gill strings you along with his stone-cold face and hardly hidden intentions, June will do the exact opposite. With a smile that flirts with scheming and altruism, he’ll ask for the most innocent kind of help. Only to somehow become something far more intimate and demanding of you in the first place. How else would simply taking notes during student council meetings lead to you smushed in a locker with the historian and his boyfriend? Or how you’ll be forced to help undress June whose hands inexplicably might be sprained? He’s an enigma to loosely associate with trouble, easily put off by how kind he is to you and your friends as you start spending more time with him and the rest of the student council. Certainly, those rumors of him crippling classmates for fun are far from true, right?

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)? Just listen to me and I’m sure everything will work out…even if that blackmail situation with your friend is completely separate.”

Like clockwork, you fall into being the student council’s lackey suddenly trusted with helping the seemingly overwhelmed Treasurer. Min Su is an odd fellow who’s been dignified a living legend with his accounting possibilities; rumored to casually be hired by the government a couple of times. So it's odd that he suddenly must have you spending your club hours documenting receipts. He’s so apologetic and jumpy that you don’t feel right questioning him. So it's normal that he has a fierce blush on his face as you take the records from his hand. Or the little noises of excitement pleasure he seems to have when you lean over him to admire his speed as he’s calculating the books. He’s likely to forget that you needed to get his stamp until you off-handedly mention how you’re going to miss him when you get that stamp.

“Oh, you wanted that? I-I’m happy to give it to you, n-no problem! But you’ll still visit me right?”

At this point, your presence is much more normalized in the student council quarters, and naturally, the Sergeant of Arms or more well known as the student council’s hype man is happy to welcome you. Popular beyond belief Roman Ferris arguably has the largest fan and friend base in the entire council. Knowing everything about everyone he already knows what you’re asking for and he’s cheekily telling you he’s already prepared how you’re going to get it. If you thought Gill was forward then you’d be mistaken Roman straight-up demands every weekend that you come with him on a date. Movies, restaurants, ice cream, trips to the park, he’s doing it all with you. Demanding you dress up for these ‘definitely not dates’, hold his hand while you walk, and smile at him only him when you pose for the camera. It's odd how he knows your every like and dislike, always ordering for you and smiling ominously when you ask. But he’s definitely not giving you this stamp if you suddenly stop coming to his dates hangouts, even if he promised he would. It’d be bad if the whole student body considered you a harlot for playing with the golden boy’s feelings. So just smile while you eat your favorites and keep your mouth sealed about your suspicions.

“Don’t worry about it babe, I already know just how you like it! Don’t worry how I know~ You’re so cute when you're well-fed!”

Practically cemented to your unwritten obligation the Vice President is well aware of what you’re after. Spencer Lyle will wait until the end of the day mindlessly stamping your document as he scrambles through his hefty pile of paperwork. Bags under his eyes and his lids dropping dangerously you figure you’ll help him, already familiar with the kind of work he was doing anyway. He thanks you when you eventually wake him up and from then on something sinister a friendship is born. Suddenly he’s coming up to you in your classes, during lunches keeping you talking casually as he leads you to the student council room. You were going there anyway, right? He’s just the perfect friend for you. Great at warding off bullying fans or teachers that get a little too snippy, he becomes your go-to friend. Not too popular but well-respected feared by the student body; totally perfect for relying on him to be relatable. Completely complacent with letting him into your life and it feels so normal now that he rings your dorm bell for an early morning. You know him so well so it's natural he does the same.

“Hey, you ready to go cupcake? Bags under my eyes? Yeah, I was up all night protecting you doing council stuff, you know how I work.”

Last but certainly not least the Student Council President: Lucoa Grander the college’s prodigy cryptid. Known to be a living genius and prominent underground business personality it seems only natural that he gets such a powerful, prestigious position. He is such a celebrity you go to Spencer to deliver your schedule confirmation only to receive a disappointing answer. Apparently, the president’s only willing to stamp yours personally, and thus your witchhunt for the illusive president begins. Searching high and low, stringing on his fan base’s own timeline and the other council members’ accounts you try to find him. But after a while, you give up fully prepared to abandon your desired course to have the blue-haired pierced-up president mysteriously showing up. He greets you so casually, sitting next to you as he asks mundane questions. When you finally ask for his stamp he gives it to you…on a major condition. 

“We’ve been looking to widen our ranks and I’ve we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. And we’re thinking of making you an honorary member–it's a new position to diversify our team. You’ll get your stamp this way and we get you our beloved a new member that’s fair enough isn’t it?”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: Mint Chocolate Icecream | Halloween Special

Honestly Zayne is such a sweetie, but I can see after a long day he might forget a single thing, especially if someone came in to distract him. He's also knows the jugular vein is risky. Also I'd like to make a petition for icecream to be one word, not two. It just looks better.

❧ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ❧ Warnings: Suggestive themes, blood sucking, vampire reader ❧ Synopsis: Zayne always took your dietary needs seriously. So when the hospital couldn't spare any blood bags, he decided to draw his own for you. It would've worked...if he remembered to bring home a needle. Improvising, thankfully, is his strong suit. ❧ Word Count: 2.9k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Mint Chocolate Icecream

“Zayne?” your voice called out as you first entered his home. The door had a small ‘click’ noise that was soon followed by your footsteps as you looked around the living room of his, in your opinion, large house. He was nowhere to be seen or heard, which was already a bit strange to your standards. Normally, whenever you came over, he was greeting you at the door after receiving your text, but today was…different.

You could smell him, though; you always could. Your heightened senses made some things easier than others; in this case, finding the gentle, minty freshness of your boyfriend was almost child’s play as you allowed your feet to carry you to his study. You guessed it wasn’t too odd that he would find himself in here, especially considering he had taken the day off to get some personal things done.

You had the courtesy to at least knock on the door before barging in, knowing he could be in a virtual meeting with someone on the other side of the globe. Despite it being rather late in the evening, he always seemed to be working. You waited a few moments before you heard his voice on the other side saying, “Come in.”

As if you were a stereotypical vampire, you heard the permission to come in, so you opened the door. You were greeted with the sight of Zayne getting things prepared for a…blood draw. “Zayne…?” his voice rolled off your lips in sheer and utter confusion.

Zayne simply readjusted his glasses that had begun sliding down his face as he turned to you, “Good evening, did you sleep well?” he finally asked, not bothering to clarify exactly what was going on.

“Ya, I…okay, no, we aren’t doing this. Not gonna act as though this,” you gestured towards the medical supplies he had clearly brought home, “is a normal, daily occurrence.”

“Donor blood at the hospital is getting a bit sparse after the recent waves of wanderer attacks,” Zayne explained, “And if I do recall correctly, just the other day, you were complaining about the chemicals we used in those blood bags to keep it from coagulating. You said, and I quote, it makes it taste absolutely rancid.” He said, repeating the words almost perfectly but leaving out the curse you had thrown in the mix.

You felt a bit sheepish at that as you cleared your throat. It was true, though. Whatever they put in blood bags to keep it…somewhat fresh, and you use that term lightly, made it taste disgusting. You were used to it at this point, but he had to ask what it tasted like, so you informed him. Copper and expired lemons are the best way you could put the flavor into words. Fresh blood, at least to vampires, never really tasted metallic. They always had a fresh taste, and it varied from person to person, as well as the emotional state they were in when they drank.

Fearful humans tasted more sour, anger was a bitter taste, and happy or lustful always had a sweet note to it. The ranges of emotions were varied, and you knew for a fact that you hated just how salty someone sad was. Not that you had fed on a human in…centuries at this point. You preferred to keep things safer for the humans, something that didn’t leave them with the mental scar of having their necks mauled.

You had even dedicated your life to protecting the humans, something you had normally left to hunters and, before the wanderers, the justice system when they were effective or vigilantes. After meeting Zayne for the third lifetime, though, and seeing how he had thrown himself into danger on behalf of humans, you couldn’t just sit by and watch. So you took up hunting during night shifts at the association, claiming you had a condition where the sun hurt. Not like the association cared much, they always needed more hunters for the overnight shifts judging by how wanderers really didn’t give a shit about what time of day they decided to attack.

“Well…Zayne…” you began, “You decided to just draw your own blood for me then?” you finally said after your inner monologue was over. You had taken a few steps to his desk, draping your arms around his shoulders. He had already tied the tourniquet around his upper arm but hadn’t done anything else. Your hand grazed over it, making the man underneath your gaze shiver.

Zayne cleared his throat, “No, I decided to do this for fun.” The sarcasm dripping off him had you stifling a small chuckle.

“Alright…but you know you don’t have to do this for me, right?” you asked, and Zayne now turned to you with a serious expression.

“Your nutritional requirements need to be met. As the normal methods can’t be met, we have to adapt.” He explained, “This seemed like the best alternative since you prefer feeding from bags.”

“I don’t prefer it, per se; feeding directly is still better but…well, you know.” You began. He did know, judging by how he had once offered his wrist to you. You had lectured him about the dangers, how he would become a temporary thrall and be even more doting on you than usual, and how the feeling might be euphoric after the initial pain passed, but it could cloud his judgment on knowing when you were taking too much.

“I’m well aware of the venom that comes from your fangs, my heart.” His voice was softer now.

There was a pause between you two. You did want to just take a bite out of this man, almost on a daily basis, actually. The other day, when you found yourself between his legs while he relaxed on the couch, the scent of the femoral artery, how you could feel the warmth on it, and how it pumped blood. It had almost sent you into a frenzy, but you had held yourself back. “Did you need any help with that?” you asked after mulling over your words.

“I have this…” he said, then his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over his supplies, “I thought I had grabbed everything…” The next part was murmured a bit more quietly. You looked over the supplies he had, noticing a distinct lack of proper needles. He had literally everything else except for the needle.

“Um…no offense, Dr. Li, but I think you need…” you said, trying to hide your laughter.

“I’m aware,” he was painfully aware, but he was also aware of the fact that he had indeed grabbed them. He sighed as he stood up and undid the tourniquet around his arm, “I must’ve left them elsewhere.”

He had begun walking at a brisk pace, clearly intent on finding the missing needles. You were still holding back some laughter, wondering how he had gotten to this point and not noticed. Clearly, the man had to have been tired if he had forgotten something so important during his setup. You followed after the man as he came to the living room and went to his bag, opening it up and searching inside. When nothing turned up, you decided to ask, “Did you leave them in your car? Or perhaps your office?”

Zayne had to think on that one. He recalled grabbing everything he needed before leaving and placing them all carefully in a bag he had purchased specifically for carrying around medical supplies to keep things sterile. Then Greyson had come into his office, asking him about a patient as he was packing things up. The conversation had drifted to his supplies, and then he…Greyson invited him to the cafeteria for boba to discuss some new research. Had he put the needles in the bag before he had been interrupted?

“I apologize; it looks like I was careless.” He finally admitted, looking away from you as though we were confessing the ultimate sin. You covered your mouth again, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s dismay.

“It’s fine, babe; I can go another few days without feeding anyway.” You assured him, placing a hand on his arm, “I’m not going to become blood-starved in a week. Us vampires are resilient.”

“We have you on a proper schedule, and I’d rather not disrupt it.” He said Zayne was probably the most caring person you had ever known. He never let you take your dietary needs lightly after seeing what happened when you hadn’t fed. He had gotten you on a schedule for feeding, and even when he was away on trips, he’d video call you and make sure you were eating.

“Then what’s your solution? A rare steak?” you teased, that was until he had taken your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

“I know you’re against it, but in order to fulfill your dietary requirements, you could feed directly from me.” He finally said. You almost whined at the sight of him so willingly giving himself into the fangs of a vampire, a predator.

“Zayne…” you said, your voice coming out quieter, “You know what will happen.”

“I’m well aware.” He said, “I find that I don’t mind, though. Besides, I doubt it’ll change much; I might just be a bit more forward in my…what do you call it?” he said, his voice taking on a more teasing tone, “Nagging?”

“I don’t say you’re nagging!” you protested, “When did I ever say that.”

“I find your expressions are more than telling.” Now, you were pouting as you looked away from him. You needed a moment to think about this but finally decided if he was so intent on making sure you kept your schedule and he was willing…perhaps it would be fine. Besides, he was already more doting than any thrall you had ever heard of, so perhaps he might even tone it down a little.

You cleared your throat, “Alright, fine.” You settled on, “But we need to…” do this more comfortably, you wanted to say, but Zayne had already read your mind.

“Go to the couch; I’ll be right back.” He said while leaning down so his voice was right against your ear, “I need to grab some things.”

You wondered sometimes how this man had such a pull on you. You didn’t try to argue at all; tell him that if you’d be feeding from him, you’d handle it all. Instead, you just found yourself sitting on the couch like you were told, looking over the back as you watched him grab some things.

Bandages, towels, napkins, a TV remote, a blanket, juice, and some sweets. A combination of many things was brought over to the coffee take before he sat down and patted his lap, a clear invitation. You had crawled over to him, plopping yourself onto him, your back hitting his chest as you adjusted yourself on him. You giggled when you felt his lips pressing a kiss to your neck, a small blush on your cheeks.

The thick towel was laid out over your lap, and you could see him going to turn the TV on, putting a random show on, “There, now we have something to do while I recover from your blood draw, doctor.” He said, which elicited another giggle from you.

“I’m the doctor now? Pretty sure my technique would get my license revoked for malpractice.” You claimed, and you smirked.

“It definitely would, but as luck would have it, this patient doesn’t seem to mind. You don’t need to worry about using your malpractice insurance this time around.” You rolled your eyes at his words and gently tapped his wrist.

“Come on, I’m feeling hungry now.” You said, taking his arm and pressing a kiss to his wrist. You could smell the sweetness of him, as well as that refreshing and unique minty fresh scent that came from his pulse points.

“Weren’t you the one saying you could go a few more days without eating?” he asked with a teasing lithe to his voice.

“I can, but doesn’t mean I want to.” You explained as you adjusted his wrist, “Are you sure this is okay?” you finally asked, and he pressed a kiss on your cheek this time.

“Of course,” he said, his voice gentle in your ears.

You took another moment to breathe him in before you decided it was time. Your fangs came out as you looked for the perfect place to bite down on his wrist. His other arm had already come to wrap around your midsection, securing you against him while also bracing himself. Then came the pinch.

When your fangs finally met his flesh, piercing into it. The warmth of his blood went through you immediately, warming you up as you drank from him. You hummed happily, noting that he tasted exactly as you had always imagined. Sweet, minty, and almost creamy. It reminded you of mint ice cream, something you had only tasted a little bit when offered to you in the past. It was delicious, especially after only drinking from blood bags for so long.

The warmth flowed down your throat as you angled his wrist above your head to allow better blood flow, the crimson liquid dripping down your chin and onto the towel on your lap. Zayne watched with interest, taking in the sight of you as well as the feeling.

You had told him it would feel good after the initial pain, but he hadn’t expected this. It felt like warmth was in his veins right now, encompassing his entire body like he was wrapped up in a blanket by a fireplace. His head felt fuzzy and delightful as he let you indulge. He had to keep himself in check, though, focusing on his body as much as he could so he could tell you when it was too much.

Thankfully, you had figured it out on your own, and you felt how he got a bit colder in your grasp. Your fangs went back in, and you were left lapping at the leftover blood on his wrist. You didn’t even realize Zayne was panting behind you, trying to regain himself from…whatever your fangs had done to him. He cleared his throat after noticing how you were still licking at his wrist; the wound from before now closed, but red and angry puncture wounds were in their place now. Not to mention a few broken blood vessels from how deeply you were drinking, clearly lost in the taste of him.

You were brought back to your senses when you felt a soft napkin dabbing at your face and chin. You wiggled in Zayne’s grip, causing the man behind you to chuckle, “Calm down. I planned on kissing you, but this would’ve been too much, I’m afraid.” He said, getting you to stop squirming.

“Zayne, I should be the one taking care of you.” You said, taking the napkin from him and cleaning up your face and a bit of your neck, “You should be relaxing, love.”

“I find that right now, I’m very relaxed.” He assured you; he grabbed the towel in your lap and began placing the bloody napkins into it and putting it to the side, out of view. If he wouldn’t let you do this, you could at least lean forward and grab him the juice and macaroons he had secured earlier, bringing them to your lap.

“You always claimed that someone’s blood tasted unique when fresh, and I’m curious now: what did I taste like?” Zayne asked as you put the straw into the juice and held it up to him. He moved his face to the side, clearly wanting to hear your answer first.

You let out a sigh and leaned forward to kiss him, “Like mint chocolate ice cream.”

Zayne was silent for a moment, his brows pinching together, “That’s…impossible.”

“What, that you taste super sweet and refreshing? It’s true. You tasted really good. Better than that bagged stuff, too.” You said, nuzzling your nose against his, “I could get used to drinking from you.”

“I don’t think I’d mind it as long as we’re responsible. I do need blood flow, as well as the use of my hands.” He said, “I’d be more than happy to draw blood regularly for you.” He finally took the offered juice, sipping on the sweet drink as you thought it over.

“I…think I’d like that. Thank you…” you finally said, feeling giddy to have found a man like this. One who’d indulge you instead of judging you. “I really appreciate this…and you.”

“I know; now, how about we watch a movie?” he asked, and you giggled.

“Can I hand feed you macaroons while we do?” you teased, already grabbing one. Zayne caught your wrist and brought the street up to his face, taking a bite of the sweet treat. It had you blushing and looking away, causing him to laugh as well.

“Were you not the one to suggest this?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek again once he swallowed the treat.

“Oh hush…I love you.” You muttered, and you heard him so gently saying it back to you, causing you to melt right into his chest.

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Gift

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Viola/Violet (mentioned)

Warnings/Notes: My belated Doffy birthday oneshot 😅! Reader is female coded, but no explicit gender/pronouns are referenced (unless I missed one). Language. Age difference. Dubious consent. Male ejaculation, and some actual fluff this time?

Synopsis: Being such a vain and self-centric man, one would expect elaborate public birthday celebrations for Dressrosa’s king. But as the newest member of Doflamingo’s crew, you’re surprised to find that this isn’t the case. And you don’t think that’s right. So you resolve to give him a very personal gift anyway, to quite unforeseen (at least to you) results.

Fic Masterlist

———————————

Doflamingo didn’t celebrate his birthday any longer.

This tidbit of information about your new master was dropped so casually one afternoon as you and Baby 5 worked together to clean blood and viscera off of the stonework. 

The two of you were together in some dark room the Donquixote captain didn’t want the normal palace maids to venture into. A special interrogation space you now dumped another bucket of soapy water over.

It wasn’t your place to ask any questions though. You had only lived in Dressrosa for the last six months. 

You were the payment Doflamingo had taken when your previous owner couldn’t cough up enough for a weapons debt in time.

Yes, your last master had likely ended up in a room much like this one. Because you’d never seen that abusive old man ever again. 

But you were a logia user. And that qualification had seemed good enough for Doflamingo to allow you this new chance within his own ranks instead.

So you did not complain. And you did not step out of line. You only followed orders just as faithfully as all these pirates that had lived with him years before you had. 

But you still wondered.

You wondered why it bothered you that no one was supposed to acknowledge the day their leader had been born.

The one day that should really be his.

You were still so skeptical of this, that you even paid more attention to the goings on in town over the next week. Looking for any hint of even the most subtle celebration plans or decorations for the people’s king.

But there were none.

And within the palace, Giolla was who you most often were assigned to and shadowed. When you realized even she showed no interest in making artwork for the king’s upcoming cumpleaños as they called it here, that was when you finally knew they must be serious.

His birthday had been removed from all outward recognition, both within his own kingdom and private ��family”.

It was such an odd notion, for how extravagant of a man Doflamingo seemed to be.

But you supposed you didn’t really know him either. In the entire six months you’d lived within his home, you didn’t think you’d had more than a few words directed at you from his grinning lips. And they had only ever been emotionless commands.

Ones you dutifully followed.

And you were okay with this arrangement. Because you had been purchased fairly. Your life preserved in exchange for being little more than a warm blooded machine. Simply another tool among all his others.

Yet you still kept thinking about him and this erasure of his birth. It felt so wrong to you.

Somehow even more wrong than the toys you sometimes heard crying in the underground port after midnight, or the blood you and Baby 5 cleaned up again and again from those equally hidden dungeons.

You lay awake in your room for hours actually, on the night before his birthday, until an idea finally came to you.

You had a need to do something about your feelings. You were very thankful to have a roof over your head after all. You were thankful to have a reliable supply of food, and you were thankful to be in the aura of this warlord’s protection in the violent New World.

It was a compulsion by that point really, to repay him in even some small way.

So you sat up in your bed and got to work then and there, inspired just the way you supposed Giolla always spoke of being. 

Your hands hardened as you summoned your power, yet also becoming fully transparent all at once while your fingers still moved nimbly.

You were a human made of glass.

Clear and flawless as your creation began to ebb from your own fingertips.

You could shape and alter it as easily as if it were molten. But you didn’t need heat to do this. Everything was still a part of you as you shaped one flower petal after another.

It became a large rose in full bloom. No stem, but the base of the flower was as wide as both of your palms put together soon enough. The candlelight’s glow in your room played through those rippling surfaces, casting prismatic reflections in every direction as you smiled.

But it still wasn’t special enough then. It wasn’t personal enough as you felt it needed a second element. 

Which wasn’t easy. It took you multiple attempts actually as you tried to shape a bird nestled within this blooming rose. 

A flamingo of course. But the neck was so slender, it kept drooping before you could harden it properly. And if you made it too hard, you were afraid it would hold tension and fracture before long.

So you compromised.

You let that flamingo rest its head, smoothing it with your still clear fingertips as you curved the neck down for the bird to lay its beak against its wing.

As if it were asleep. An elegant flamingo, content and peaceful in the bloom of a rose. The final glass was pristine in its clarity of course, with all the facets you’d created catching the light in such a way that it fully sparkled while you cupped it in your hands with admiration.

You loved it.

And the next day when you went into Doflamingo’s empty office as part of your regular task of filing his completed contracts for him, you left this gift on his desk while you took that stack of paperwork in exchange.

Yet you put no note with your gift. You didn’t even leave it in the center of his desk like a focal point, as you would never be that brazen or prideful.

No, you simply left it to the side. It could be little more than an ornate paper weight for all it mattered. He could discard it if he chose to.

And that would be alright. A gift was the receiver’s to do with as they wished after all.

But at least you now knew he would have a present. He would not be ignored on his own day.

And that thought made you very happy.

But hours passed easily within his palace. Neither Giolla, nor Trebol had any further special instructions for you that day. So by the time the sun had set again, you were alone once more in your bed.

Reading by candlelight as you often did. The palace library was available to any of the Donquixote crew, and its contents occupied you well in any downtime you found.

The story for tonight was interesting too, but not so different than those you’d read before. Just another handsome protagonist, and his rather oblivious lover to be.

It was quite predictable, but still enough to make you giggle once the two characters finally found themselves alone.

You knew exactly where this was going.

And you had been turning those pages just a bit faster in that anticipation before your small transponder snail suddenly awakened to startle you.

Of course you still answered immediately, expecting a late night order. Perhaps a request to join your fellow lower ranks in the underground harbor. Sometimes the pirates there got rowdy, trying to back out of prior agreements. But you were much less destructive than Trebol when restraining them.

“Yes?” You had answered in your calm way, ready for almost anything.

“Come to my office. Now.”

Anything but that as the young master’s impatient tone filled your ears instead.

“Yes, sir.” You said anyway.

The snail clicked, disconnecting from his side first as you dropped your book and practically leapt from the bed.

No one kept Doflamingo waiting.

So much so that you didn’t bother with shoes, or even changing.

You were barefoot, just in a nightgown that fluttered to your knees as you pulled a jacket on over it and hurried out and down the hall.

Your master’s office was on a higher floor. Always like ascending to where you would never truly belong as your feet took the staircase two steps at a time.

But there was no one else in the dark palace corridors. Nothing to speak of panic or a rallying of the troops at all to protect the island.

Yet as you pulled down on the golden door handles to open those carved double doors that led to his workspace, you had still expected to see more of the Donquixote crew.

Never once had you been here alone with him.

Until tonight.

“Close the doors.” He ordered.

And you still did so with no hesitation, then walking towards Doflamingo’s desk with your hands clasped subserviently in front of you below your waist.

You didn’t even ask for an explanation. You simply looked at him, awaiting further instruction.

But his large chair was pulled farther from his desk than normal. He was slouched back in it with his shirt fully open and oddly wrinkled.

One of his long legs was crossed over the other. But his foot was moving slightly, bouncing a little like letting out tension the rest of his body would not yet portray.

“Did you make this?” Doflamingo asked in such an odd tone, yet immediate and to the point as one of his fingers tapped the desk.

Your eyes finally broke away from him to look down at that glass rose you’d created with the flamingo still resting peacefully within the spread petals.

He had moved it dead center on his desk now.

“Yes, sir.” You answered simply, your voice still soft.

But that was when his posture changed.

“Why?” He asked you as he straightened up in his chair.

And you felt your hands tighten against one another. Yet, you were simple. You didn’t think ahead, or plan and strategize. Everything was only what it was and nothing more.

You always told the truth.

“I wanted to give you a gift. I’m thankful to be allowed to stay here, young master.”

And you saw his facial muscles contort slightly. 

Like he didn’t know what expression to make.

“But today? You chose today to do this…” He sounded strangely unsure. Irritated too, as only one of his large hands easily scooped up that glass artwork that had taken both your palms to carefully hold.

“Yes.” You again answered honestly. “I wanted you to have something even if we aren’t allowed to celebrate.”

His brow furrowed. But you did not see any bulging vein. He wasn’t fully angry, not yet. He didn’t seem to know what to do. 

And perhaps that was the root of this frustration.

“How old are you?” Doflamingo asked suddenly.

“Twenty.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath at this seemingly unpleasant answer. And you saw his leg shift, that movement of his foot getting a little faster.

“Well…hoy tengo cuarenta años. Es demasiado.” He finally told you in return, switching briefly to the native language of this island as he frowned. Like he couldn’t admit this number out loud, to you or himself otherwise.

And his fingers were still moving over your gift, tracing all those edges while he held it.

“I’ve waited hours today…wondering what to do about this.” He said again then. “I even brought Violet in here earlier to try and alleviate it...” And he gestured unabashedly at the messy state of his clothing that you had noticed on first arrival.

But only then as his arm moved did you see the smear of dark lipstick against his rib cage beneath that open shirt.

And that was the very first thing that finally brought a tinge of heat to your face.

“It’s…just a gift, young master.”

“It isn’t.” He corrected you so surely that you lowered your head like a scolded pup.

And you heard the resulting growl which came from that too.

“You’re too damn innocent.” He lamented. “And I’m twice your fucking age now.”

Said as if this was somehow all your fault.

His crossed legs shifted again too, like he was struggling with himself. “You don’t even have a man in town, do you? You just sit alone in your room all the time…doing what exactly?”

“I read.” You felt that coil of embarrassment in your stomach now rising to meet the heat still creeping downward from your face.

But he scoffed, a much crueler noise. “And think about me as you do? Clearly you must.” He held the glass rose up higher then, almost as if it were indisputable evidence in this sudden trial against you.

He was starting to sound genuinely angry now.

“I’m sorry, young master.” You tried.

“You can’t do these things and expect no consequence.” Doflamingo chided you harshly, as if you really were a fool.

A fool that he owned.

“Come here.” He commanded you in that renewed authority as he set your gift back to the center of his desk.

You followed the gesture of his fingers without question. He didn’t even have to use his strings as you walked around his desk to stand before his chair.

“You can’t show me affection and think nothing would come of it…” He warned only briefly. 

And it felt too dangerous to try and apologize further. You were silent as your eyes watched only those red lenses of his sunglasses. 

You did know enough not to dare look away from him now.

“I’m not going to fuck you. But you are going to let me get this feeling out.” He said darkly. “So just be quiet and we’ll be done soon enough. Then you can go back to your paper fantasies instead.”

There was not even an implication of wanting your permission in his mocking words either. He was telling you what was about to happen just before those long legs abruptly uncrossed and you were pulled between them.

And you still gasped as the clothed erection he’d been hiding this entire time now pressed up hard against your bottom in his lap.

He didn’t even give you time to process. He was already thrusting that sharp bulge against your nightgown within moments.

His large hands fisted within that same thin fabric beneath your jacket as he groaned quietly.

You felt him inhale deeply next, taking in your scent as he curved his spine enough to lean down into your smaller frame.

It was like being encapsulated, a monstrous snake constricting itself around a small prey when the smallest flick of wet met the side of your face simultaneously.

Just the very tip of his tongue, only a tiny taste of you before before those large hands tightened on your hips.

Doflamingo pulled you harder against his own, bruising your skin beneath your clothes you were sure while his pace quickened even further.

“You smell so good.” He practically hissed against you. “You’re so soft too…”

His long fingers easily squeezed into your thighs as well, even as he didn’t release your hips.

And you must still be in some sort of shock really. Because somehow you didn’t feel afraid. 

You just let him do it. 

It was his birthday. He was your master.

And you were what he wanted, in this moment at least.

He never lifted your nightgown though. He never opened his pants.

But you could feel his body heat, and his desperation. A shame that outweighed any you should have had.

It was his loneliness. It was his need.

And it was mercy towards you.

Your master was giving you his rarest gift in return.

He could have taken your virginity here and now. He could have shattered you with his haki on only a whim, logia user or not.

Doflamingo was fully in control of you, and honestly just enough in control of himself that he did not truly harm you.

His breath only quickened as time seemed to draw to a standstill for you. It felt both like forever, and not long enough at all.

And still you didn’t feel wronged. 

The humiliation was only his instead, whenever you finally felt him stiffen further, grunting before he shuddered and that new heat blossomed against the underside of your thighs.

You were still sitting tightly on his bulge, and the wetness of his release wicked through those meager layers of fabric so easily.

He’d fully cum on himself within his pants. The king of Dressrosa had done this in a private moment with you, then hugging his arms around your waist as he rested briefly, recovering from that surprisingly heavy orgasm.

“Happy birthday to me…” Doflamingo chuckled despite himself, still sounding a bit overwhelmed in this instance while he gradually came down.

“Happy birthday, young master.” You answered tentatively, almost in a whisper.

But he allowed it now. He even squeezed you a little more. And it didn’t feel fully sexual then. He wanted something to hold onto.

He wanted comfort.

“Thank you.” The Heavenly Demon said to you, the young one who was surely only another of his many pets.

But he meant it.

And maybe by his next cumpleaños he would be able to do more. Maybe by then you would be ready to be more than just the one he wanted both to consume and to hold tonight.

Maybe you’d been the oblivious lover to be all along. 

Regardless, whatever happened now, you wouldn’t be laughing at those characters in the books any longer.

If you’d even be reading them much at all. Because you might have someone else needing all of your free time now.

Someone far more sensitive than he’d ever let on as he kept you in his lap while he reached for your artwork again, moving it back closer to the edge of the desk so it better caught the light from the small chandelier above.

You watched your master smile, his body relaxing fully before he bent down enough again to rest his chin on your shoulder.

This was just another flamingo, resting his head with his newest flower.

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! 🎂🦩

[nimbusghoul]

The Nice Soap-Viktor x Bimbo!Reader

Pairing:Viktor x Reader

Type: Fluff TO smut for the entirety

Fandom:Arcane/LoL(more Arcane Vik than LoL Vik, let me have my twink, okay?)

WC:1337 This is just a sneak peek, if you want more, I'll continue to provide, Don't hate me!

Viktor was never one to catch feelings easily, but when you came into his life from being a good friend of Jayce, he began to feel something new.

When Jayce introduced you to him, he didn’t know how to react to your bubbly air headed nature, it was new. Sure, Jayce is charismatic, but he didn’t shine as bright as you did, you could light up the whole room with a personality like that.

Maybe you weren’t the smartest, but you were an amazing listener, and things didn’t seem to get to you very often. Usually just in one ear and out the other, but when you were interested, your body language changed, anyone could tell you were paying attention, even if you usually didn’t fully understand.

You’d turn yourself towards him and lean in again or prop your elbows on the table and put your chin in your hands, kicking your feet a bit, and it was when you would ask most of the questions.

“What’s that?”

“What, a Hex Core?”

“Mhm! I dunno what that is, Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, I understand not everyone has the same knowledge. Ehh, a Hex Core is an adaptive rune matrix with Hextech in the middle…the potential for ultimate advancements in technology!”

“ohhh!… what?? I dunno what that stuff is either, i mean, i know what runes are but…what’s…all the other stuff??”

Viktor took a minute, how would he explain this without making you feel like you had less and less knowledge? He would never want to hurt your feelings, you were too pretty to be sad.

“Hextech uses magic to create artifacts, it’s made up of a special crystal. It can do all kinds of things, not just for me and the hexcore is full of hextech, which means it has all kinds of that magic.”

“Sounds like a lot of math, which i’m not good at. I think I’ll stick to less complex things and let you handle all of that genius people stuff”

You were really the only person who could distract him from his work. He had completely forgotten about the papers in front of him, his focus was on you, even if the papers were the thing you asked about. He realized he doesn’t ever really ask any questions that he had for you

“May I ask you an…odd question?”

“hm, of course! just make sure it’s not too complicated of a question? really big words get me all confused…”

“Of course of course. Those nails of yours, are they real? like, your actual nail? they’re quite long.”

“What? god no, these are made with powder polymethylmethacrylate and a monomer liquid!”

You turned over you hand and tapped on the underside of your nails, Viktor was a little shocked from that long word you managed to string out describing the acrylic powder

“So…they are plastic?”

“Nope! You gotta put the liquid with a bit of the monomer and then put it on top of a guide, sometimes plastic? but I like to use my silicone one because it peels better, and thennn you put the whole thing under UV light for it to harden and they’re so much better than fake plastic nails! fake nails that are plastic feel so icky and come off WAYYY too easy. plus nail glue can fuck up your skin soooo bad!”

“ah, i see, so you know a lot about this topic?”

“Of course! if i’m gonna look pretty I have to be healthy and to be healthy i have to know what Im doing to my body! That’s why I like hate cOsMeTiC sUrGuRiEs cause like everyone is beautiful in their own way and the fact that people think they have to pay to be beautiful is really disgusting! everyone was made to grow differently, just because you don’t look like your neighbor or your pretty classmate doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty or attractive or perfect! But like Botox for headaches is fine, it helps with migraines!”

“I see you feel very strongly about these things, Is there a reason why? Perhaps a connection to memories in which it makes you upset about this topic?”

“Well…I just want everyone to be happy, you know? and if you hate yourself because you don’t look like everyone else…that’s not happy. The only thing that’s truly ugly or unattractive is the way we treat some people, and the awful things we say and do. Ugly doesn’t exist *on* people, it exists *in* people.”

You turned to Viktor after finishing a sentence, a small smile, the first real one you’ve seen, but you decided not to say anything, having an internal celebration instead of external. Celebratory of small victories(or should i say Viktories, okay yeah i’ll see myself out sorry), it was rare to see Viktor smile from what Jayce has told you.

“You are very different from me, and yet i enjoy the company you provide, it’s quite odd, with how different our knowledge is you’d think I would be annoyed with all your questions, but you also have knowledge I don’t. I do not look into what I wear or the lotions, soaps and sanitizers I put on my hands-”

You were quick to accidentally cut him off, suddenly remembering why you came to the lab in the first place, even when it slipped out on the way from your home to the lab.

“OHMYGOODNESS!! I tOTALLY forgot about that! Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, but I wanted to say I got you some new soap because i was reading the ingredients and yours contained formaldehyde!! that’s probably why your hands are always so dry, that is so bad for your skin! I also got you some lotion because they’re so dry from that awful soap…”

You quickly dug through your purse, pulling out a large bottle of moisturizing hand soap and some hand lotion with aloe, quickly placing them on the desk

“I literally went to the market at like 8 this morning because I knew that’s when they first set up so like they weren’t all gone when I got there!”

“You did this for me?”

“pshhh, yeah! and i got my pet some more of those cute special treats, they only get sold like twice during the week and they’re all gone in like an hour. it’s so terrible if I can’t get my sleepy butt up in time to get some!”

“Are they truly that important?”

“Well, my pets are like…my family! they’re like my little babies and I would literally assault whoever the hell runs this universe for my babies?”

“I apologize, I was speaking about the soap.”

“Oh, oops! Yeah, I wanted to get you something nice, plus, all the really nice ones sell out so fast! Especially like when this huuuuge group of wives come through and buy like literally everything nice.”

"Group of...wives?"

"Yeah, like, you know, middle aged women who don't need so much damn soap?"

"Ah..."

he seemed to take a pause to think

"Why...for me? Why not for Jayce?" He asked, looking up at you

"What? Your hands are dry, Jayce doesn't have...all that as an issue...you know?"

He seemed surprised as he thought before laughing quietly

"How are you so sure what my hands feel like? I'm sure Jayce is very touchy...but you know, I am not."

You felt your face heat quickly

"Well, I- they sound dry! You know, when you rub your hands together and it sounds...dry, like you can't hear my hands unless I rub them together really hard!"

He chuckled softly at your embarrassment before standing

"I find it cute that you care. Thank you, Солнышко(sólnyshka)"

-CUTOFF FOR PREVIEW-

[strwberri-milk]

MC and Xavier/Zayne/Rafayel have a unplanned kid (or kids, i like the idea of twins too)

They are dating for only some months now, having a unplanned kid now would be a problem?

How would she talk about it with them? Or, would them be the one to notice first that something is strange? (I mean zayne is her doctor and ask for regular exams, you doctor is always the first to know the results right?)

They are just dating and never talked about marriage, would a baby change it? (I think rafayel is the romantic one who would want to marry before the baby is born)

How would them act while mc is pregnant? (Not to mention she tecnically have health problems)

Would them be extra carefull about her health?

What about her job as a hunter?

When its birth time, how would them react? (Maybe rafayel would freak out a bit?)

Besides that, what about the fluffynes, or feelings?

.

Also already leaving this here for another post (not that i would mind if you want to do it all in the same one): what about them as dads?

Starting at birth, how would be see their kid/kids the first time?

Would they take care of mc so she can recover after birth? (My friend had a 28h birth and breastfeeding was painfull, it was nothing like the in movies yk)

How would the kids be like? And what they would have in common with their parents?

.

Thank you very much since now ♡

nothing personal against you but this is a quick reminder to anybody whos new here to please please please check out my rules before requesting! I will be doing the dad hcs section and ONLY the dad hcs - nothing about pregnancy, pregnancy recovery, etc. etc. because i do not write for pregnancy - i can see youve put a lot of energy into this ask and i appreciate it but just as a heads up for the future please check my rules first!

Zayne is a great father. He isn't able to be as active as he would like to be in the earlier years of childhood because he wants to make sure that the child has enough money to be provided for for their entire life. He doesn't throw himself fully into work but he also is just as busy now as he was before the arrival of the child.

Once things settle and he gets used to a rhythm he might start taking less odd hours at the hospital. He's been interviewing for another surgeon or three that can replace his manpower when needed, not wanting to be the absolute backbone for the hospital anymore so he can be home as often as needed.

He can't totally get rid of those odd hours or being on call because it wouldn't be fair to the other staff as he isn't the only parent that works there but the load is definitely lessened with the way that he's worked things out. He wants to be as present as possible and he always does his best to get days off for any special events in the child's life, or just for the family in general.

He will definitely broach the idea of you being an at home parent. He wants there to be someone who can be there for the child at any given time and if you refuse he'll respect your wishes without saying much. It doesn't bother him too much but it is something he wants to bring up.

Xavier is immediately concerned about your lives as hunters. He's very confident in his ability to keep himself safe and it's not to say that he isn't confident in you, but he does worry about you being reckless. It's simply a case of him not being able to be with you at all times and being nervous about it. He'll try to convince you to take a safer job or consider working in a sector that wouldn't require you to be on the field as often.

In all fairness he also stops going off by himself for missions as often and makes it easy for you to find him or know where he is in case he has to go somewhere more remote. He'll be a little picky about who he works with just because he doesn't want them to impede the way he works. He already started playing it safe when you confided in him how much you worry when he does things dangerously but now with a child in the mix he's more aware of himself.

He is very active in the child's life. Definitely loves doing tummy time with it and cuddling with it. He gives both you and the child so much love and attention - there's no way it'll grow up without knowing how in love its parents are and how much its parents love it. You definitely love watching him interact with your child, finding it so adorable to see how he coos and plays.

Xavier also loves to read to your child. He's got a small collection of space themed children's book and now his nightly routine is reading a few of them to your child as it rests on his chest, pointing out all the little pictures and constellations and teaching it all about them.

Rafayel buys the cutest little outfits for the baby. He's definitely the kind of parent who buys designer clothes that will only fit for the week but the good thing is at least he doesn't pick anything that's overtly designer. He just likes dressing your baby well and he has expensive taste and the money to pay for it.

Rafayel is a little awkward at first being a father. He's used to communal child rearing being standard practise (a headcanon I have from the way he talks about his childhood/how I read interactions during myths) so he's a little out of his element. His Aunt definitely comes over constantly to coo over the new family member and Rafayel wouldn't mind hiring additional staff to help keep the home in order and support child rearing as well. He just doesn't want the nanny becoming a primary parental figure for the child - he thinks that honour should go to you and him.

Since he basically works from home he inadvertently spends a lot of time with the baby. He tries to get you to quit your job, citing that he makes more than enough money for you to either stay at home or find safer work but also won't stop you. However, if you continue actively working as a hunter in the field his anxiety around your absence worsens tenfold. He'll ask you to keep your phone on you as much as possible and with your permission will want the ability to monitor your location. He just wants to make sure you don't get hurt and really has your safety at the forefront of his mind at any given moment.

He's also going to be watching for any signs that your child is going to have any Lemurian traits. He doesn't want anybody to find out about it in case harm befalls your little family and also wants to be able to help your child through those changes the best he can. You'll be seeing a lot of his aunt around now to help the two of you - she never minds even if the child isn't Lemurian like they are because she just finds it adorable.

[genericpuff]

Are there any things you like about LO? Or is it all shit to you. Personally, I think it could be a great storyline with the right execution, but a lot of the stuff and plot is unnecessary (I.e. Hades being thousands of years older than Kore and making characters fall in love with people they are racist/classist towards 😨😨)

Oh there are LOADS of things that I liked and still enjoy about LO despite all the shit I've thrown at it. I love love LOVE a lot of the older art-

Like, damn, that shit is so charming! I swear I had that Tower 4 panel as my phone background for like, 2 years LOL

Rachel had a really strong understanding of shape language, composition, color theory, and expressive linework in a way that was really appealing and unique at the time, but along the way it was just lost, undoubtedly due to her taking more of a backseat in the character art process and leaving it to her assistants.

That said, there's a lot of... not so charming, too.

I think, on the one hand, there's a lot to appreciate in the old art that shouldn't be rejected as we criticize this series. At the end of the day, as much as we riff on it, many of us did love this series at one point in time, so we shouldn't cringe at what it used to make us feel or pretend like we were ever above it when we were very much lost in it for ages before it went down the tubes.

But there is a lot to be said about the effects of rose-colored glasses, and how LO was never perfect. The reality is that much of Rachel's work is exemplified by the odd beautiful thing that sticks in our memories, but when we actually go back to relive those memories, we find they're all strung together by some not so beautiful stuff that makes us go 'wait what???'

Case in point, with LO we remember beautiful compositions like this:

But then within those same episodes we get:

And it's like oh. Yikes.

Aside from the art, there was also the SA plot as well as the Act of Wrath. The SA plot felt really special to me at the time because I was someone who was once in Persephone's shoes, being pressured into sex that I wasn't ready for but wasn't capable of saying no to. I can appreciate what Rachel was trying to do with that plot, but over time it became clear that she wasn't committed to seeing that plotline through and so I kind of just dropped my expectations for it entirely.

That said, it wasn't the SA plotline that set me off. I had good faith in that one still that it would be addressed eventually. It was the Act of Wrath plotline that did me in. The premise of it was totally my cup of tea in the way of "quirky character has a dark evil backstory!" which is shit that I absolutely LOVE, but then when the "twist" happened that Eris was the one to give her wrath, that was literally when I had my almost "canon event" moment of realizing "wait... I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." And then it was just all downhill from there. The S2 finale sealed my fate LOL

All that said, as much as my brain is often defaulting to "ew! gross! bad!!!" in all honesty I do still appreciate what LO meant to be back when I still enjoyed it. It meant enough to me that I just couldn't let it the fuck go when it started to go downhill, so much so that I started making my own version of it! And that's something that sets it apart so much more from other comics I really don't like anymore (or comics I never liked to begin with) like Down to Earth, The Kiss Bet, Let's Play, etc. where I really can't even be bothered to think about them let alone talk about them to the extent I do about LO. I may be full of beans when it comes to LO, but I'd still rather be talking about it and all its failings and what it used to mean to me than about any of those other works. I loved it enough to still want it in my life and that's what Rekindled has accomplished for me.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

[under-lok-n-ki]

Captain Ava & Captain Lizzie

literally cannot wait until we get more development on this plot bc it’s so so good

also I got around to listening to the Black Rose One-shot and Lizzie was originally blonde??? ik her design was changed a lot during the campaign in general but I’m deciding to play around with that info—I’m thinking she started dying it after joining Shadowbeard’s crew

anyways thoughts I had about Ava/the Ferin’s while designing her (possible spoilers or maybe just incoherent rambling):

gave her a rifle bc I feel like she’d have sharpshooting capabilities on par with Drey, but a pistol just didn’t seem appropriate for her. but I also see her favoring close-range attacks so she also gets a big knife as a treat

I think it’s mentioned in an episode how Jay looks more like their mother, May, so personally I think Ava resembles Jayson much more with certain aspects (specifically height, nose shape, eye color, hair ‘style’— Jay got his more square-ish face shape and broad build; they both have the same eye shape)

expanding on that fiery hair ‘style’ thing— I’m thinking that’s smthn that just kinda comes with the Ferin abilities and I’m thinking those powers need to be unlocked in a way?? there’s no other reason I can think of as to why Jayson has the flaming hair and specific magic skills while Jay doesn’t, so I’m thinking Ava may have been more in-tune with/naturally drawn towards the Ferin magic (esp since we see her using that golden form during the animatic sequence in ep101) while Jay become more influenced by May’s magic (since I think she spent the most time with her esp after Ava’s death). maybe Jay and Drey suppress their Ferin abilities (Drey def intentionally, Jay maybe a bit unintentionally?) and it could kinda explain why Jay has special blood: she’s a mix of two [supposedly] powerful magical heritages

I also have this thought that Ava may have unlocked these powers earlier than most of the Ferin’s, resulting in a fate similar to Gillion’s where she was regarded with pride for this yet constantly pressured and trained into becoming a weapon for the Navy (perhaps by request of Grandma Fey, who seems to be a very controlling character and could be the reason Jayson acts so cold and ruthless). and when she failed to uphold their beliefs that’s when The Order was given (maybe they found out about her & Lizzie???)

BUT in comparison to Jayson who absorbed himself in his work, and Gillion who was forcibly separated from his family, Ava was able to visit home often and had May and Jay to lean on as a support system. that connection alone could’ve helped separate the brutality and violence of her work in the Navy from her actual personality—the one that she became admired for and the one Lizzie was drawn to. it could also be speculated that she had the same ideas as Kira and Jay: that she could make the Navy better from the inside (obv this would be more difficult if she was held to high expectations, but she could’ve been on her way to making it work)

speaking of Jay—I think I remember a moment where someone explains how Jayson didn’t want her to join the Navy at all, and I always thought this was odd considering how it was moreso pointed towards her rather than Ava (as well as the fact that the Ferin’s ostracize those who don’t join, like Drey). this would coincide with my theory that Ava was expected to join bc of ‘unlocking’ her powers early, so maybe Jayson didn’t want Jay joining due to the fact that she hadn’t tapped into her Ferin powers yet, but Jay being Jay decided to enlist anyways and eventually gained a different motivation for her involvement than the rest of the clan [thanks to Kira & Ava]. or there was another thing at play. idk kinda just throwing smthn at the wall with this one bc that little comment stood out to me and I can’t remember if it even happened lol

also do we think the whole ‘sun nightmare’ is like,,, a test to unlock those abilities?? we know Jay and Drey opted to jump into it which kinda resulted in some magic golden eye phenomena (which we’ve seen in action once by Drey), but the issue here is when Jay rejected the heat the first time it just resulted in pain. so what would’ve been the option that leads the Ferin bloodline to become so powerful? do they choose to combat the sun?? do they conjure up heat of their own until they overpower it??? so many questions

gaaahhh I can’t wait until they’re out of the Black Sea so we can delve into this more bc I’m tired of feelin like this:

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Potions 'n Passions: Spooky Season Special

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL ONESHOT (Ellie Williams x witch Fem! reader)

BEFORE YOU READ: I want to do more Halloween/spooky type writing before October is over so if you have any ideas pls request!

Content: Oral sex(R! receiving), Jackson Ellie, witch reader, Dina doesn't really exist in this so the events of the game are tweaked to fit the story, violence, scary themes, gore(descriptions of bodies and witchy symbols engraved into skin) Smut with plot, this is more of a blair witch project type of witch than a cutesy romantic situation

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After Joel's death, a revenge thirsty Ellie would do anything to avenge the man who was practically a father to her. She had heard of countless urban legends of a frightening witch who hides away deep in the forests outside of Jackson. They say she can provide spells and potion, but everything has a cost. More dark stories say she's a vexing woman who has a few tricks up her sleeve. Determined to avenge Joel, Ellie leaves Jackson in pursuit of finding out if the legends of some wicked witch are true. If this witch could help her make those responsible for Joel’s death pay, Ellie would pay her a visit with no hesitation. However, what she finds is far from what she expected.

Ellie had been traveling outside of Jackson for a day and a half, and each step felt like she was barreling towards what could be a reckless mistake. A fatal mistake and in ways Ellie didn't even know existed. She knew what she was attempting was not conventional in any sense, however, what was the definition of conventional in a post apocalyptical world in which the person closest to you is brutally murdered? Ellie wasn't a dumbass; she knew going on a literal witch-hunt was like a horror story waiting to happen. But she was so desperate for revenge, to get justice for Joel and all that jazz, that she must've left her senses at home. And now here she was, deep outside of Jackson's sanctuary, snow crunching under her boots as she carefully treaded deeper into the forest.

The moon was full, and the frosty white ground was hardly visible under Ellie's tacky flashlight. The scene was almost eerie enough to make her turn around, but she persisted. Moonlight couldn't seem to reach through the trees. Odd, Ellie thought. These trees were not much different from the ones near Jackson. She forced herself to brush the observation off as the tree types being different than the ones back at home. She tried to ignore the insistent feeling in her gut, the little voice in the back of her mind that begged her to turn around. However, the auburnette was far too determined for that.

Before Joel's death, Ellie had already heard the ridiculous tales of the 'witch of the woods'. She would scrunch her nose up in irritable disbelief, because how could anyone ever believe in something so stupid? Jackson's elders droned on and on, mouthing cautionary tales of some woman far, far away from Jackson who could grant wishes with spells and potions. At first, Ellie found the stories to be cute. What was a town without a little spook behind it? However, as these stories went from classic Halloween folklore and became "the witch uses magic to create ritualistic symbols”, and “those patrollers definitely went missing because of the witch of the woods!", Ellie found them to be a nuisance. They were starting to scare the kids! And for what, a little bit of entertainment? And who would ever be desperate enough for something in this fucked up world that they'd visit some witch to get what they wanted?

Well, that someone was now her. When Joel was killed, her first thought definitely was not, “oh, I should track down the ‘devil’s mistress’, as old man Eugene loved to refer to her as. However, nothing seemed to work in her favor in suit of her vengeance. She had no information on those responsible for what happened, and the other people in the settlement seemed to move on with their lives. It took Ellie a total of two weeks after his death to even consider what she was about to do. However, the thought of that witch really existing, and sending some horrific curse on those who took Joel away was too satisfying of a thought, it couldn’t help but fester in her brain. Plus, she was out of options.

Ellie expected to feel spooked as she walked through the forest, that much was expected. However, she couldn’t continue to brush off the abnormal observations that couldn’t be explained by science. They started with footprints in the snow. And no, not just shoe prints. Ellie crouched down carefully and she didn’t know what she was looking at. ‘Why the hell would someone be barefoot in the middle of a forest, deep in snow?’ If only this was closer to Jackson, then she could theorize that some dumbass on patrol had a case of paradoxical undressing due to the frigid temperatures. If only she could say it was an infected footprint. Part of her knew it couldn’t be, though. However, the next sight was even more odd.

There was what seemed to be a stick figure crafted of sticks, tied together by thin, brown rope. Now, this was inexplicable. This felt so familiar to her. And then, it hit her. Those old stories that circulated in Jackson, those silly legends had to be true, because while she hadn’t paid much attention to the absurd details, she remembered Eugene’s explanation of some ‘clearly satanic conception.’ Did Ellie turn back when she saw a straight line of these figures leading down a steep hill? No, no she did not. She took it as a desperate but hazy sign to keep going.

The steep, snowy hill was not expecting any visitors, and Ellie's footing was lodged into an root, sending her tumbling down at full speed.

Ellie's eyes flickered opened before shutting again, fluttering multiple times before they finally opened to look up at the pitch dark sky. She felt a burning sensation all over, and that's how she knew she had been out for a while. Her skin was freezing cold and frost bite would soon threaten to make its appearance if it hadn't already. However, that wasn't the only pain present. The once purely white flakes that indulged the ground were now littered by crimson droplets. Blood. The adrenaline from the fall began to falter, and Ellie struggled to sit up, her gaze flickering down to the matching red hue coloring her shirt. With shaky hands, she carefully lifted her shirt to find an engraving in her abdomen. It was horrific to look at, and was seemingly randomly placed. A little star symbol. Now, Ellie was full-fledge panicking. Shallow breaths, racing thoughts of her already fading life, and most significantly, an utter sense of bewilderment.

It felt as if hours had gone by since Ellie had accepted her own death. She went out looking for some magical witch who could save her some her grief, give her some justice. Now, she was starting to see the darkest parts of reality in an already tainted world. Ellie wanted to think of more questions to increase her confusion, like why no infected had found her, or why the stick figures that once lined a path for her were suddenly gone without a trace. But all minor wonders seemed to have left her. It was a split second blink, and then there was a building in the far distance.

Moss plastered the humble wood, and there was a faint glow visible from the windows, a faint pulse of electricity. There couldn’t have been any generators around. Ellis knew she was close to something ultimately wicked and sinful, yet she couldn’t stop herself from limping forward towards the home with numb digits and a bloodied abdomen. She felt life slip faster and faster out of her grasp, and determination failed her as she hit the ground once more.

Ellie groaned as she came back to her senses. Her vision was a blurry haze, and her mind was reeling from a weird sense of doom. It was as if her whole body was telling her to run, to evacuate whatever place she was currently in, but the unfortunately reasonable part of her brain told her it was too late for that. She could feel a presence. Ellie remembered some of the old folks in town talking about danger, about how certain aspects of it left you sensing it before you even saw it. But what could she do now? She heard it first.

“Tell me your name..I cannot read you.” It was a voice..it was almost alluring to the auburn girl, which she found strange. The last few hours, she had been introduced to countless ugly horrors. Now, a beautiful feminine voice was ringing into her ears, poisoning her mind. Finally, her eyes reacher clarity and she opened them to see the scene before her.

The room was dark with only candlelight guiding her vision. There were vials of liquids on the dusty shelves that she couldn’t identify. The windows were boarded up with wooden planks from the outside, making the building look as if it were abandoned. However, the sight in front of her was one she couldn’t have predicted from a witches’ lair.

You were beautiful. Beautiful didn’t even put it into words. You had silky, ravenous curls that reached your waist. Your face was utter perfection, as if some Greek philosopher had taken years to debate such a beauty, and some renaissance painter had layered millions of years worth of sublimity onto you. As if some sculptor had carved the very meaning of life into your mold. You could’ve been blinding and Ellie still wouldn’t have been able to look away. She’d seen countless girls in her life, yet none were as alluring as the witch before her. However, she still couldn’t shake the sense of terrible danger that resonated into her soul at the sight. No mortal or even right immortal could be so beautiful and still so good.

“Name. Tell me your name, please.” There it was again, that harmonic call of yours. Ellie tried to find her words, clearing her throat.

“Ellie,” she managed to croak, her voice dry from disuse. It was immature, but she felt self-conscious at the sight of such a beautiful creature.

Your hands held the back of Ellie’s head, and the contact was electric. You were exactly what she needed, an installation of warmth set deep into her body, filling her up like a hearty soup. If only you were that harmless. If only you were actually good for her. Bless that poor lesbian’s heart.. It was harder and harder to remember what she was even doing in this situation, but somehow you already knew.

“I know what you’re here for, Ellie. Revenge..” God, the way your voice indulged into her name like it was made for your lips. However, she had to stay focused. Her brain registered that this event could’ve been a major trap, and your words reminded her to stay somewhat aware. The girl simply nodded, and you leaned forward. Ellie was now aware that she was laid out on a tattered bed, you towering over her body. She suddenly remembered something vivid, the very reason she sought out the building, and her fingertips traveled to feel her abdomen. No branding, no mark on her. However, any concerns or protests she had died down. It was as if she was numbed down, mind clear and yet so hazy. A trance.

You leaned forward and your soft lips tugged upward. The strange feeling in her gut telling her that you were dangerous, a force of nature not to be messed with ceased to get through to her body as she leaned in as well. Your breath fanned over her face, and your scent enveloped Ellie’s nostrils until she finally succumbed to it, her lips chasing after yours.

Ellie told herself that it wasn't her that made the first move. You were mystical; you tempted her, lured her body in ways she couldn't control. You were tempting in ways no mortal could control. Part of her knew that this could end horribly, that she was indulging in her mere lust, but all she could feel was the way your strangely warm lips caressed hers like an embrace of mouths her body craved. She didn't know if witches even had souls or not, but she found a certain type of comfort in the way you provided her with everything she needed. She wasn't thinking about her battle with loss, or Abby and her friends. She was in need of a respite you neutrally gave out.

Each moment felt enhanced, time moving slow as your lips continued to connect and tease each other. You were sitting back and allowing her to lavish attention to your boundless body. You could do anything you wanted to her and you knew that. Hell, Ellie did too. But she just couldn't find it in her to pull away. The outside world was distant, cold, and marked with bodies she used to love. You could give her everything.

Ellie's fingers desperately grasped your face, pulling you closer, her touch uncontrolled and needy. She was worshipping you as if you were some deity. Your lips were so soft, so rosy and perfect against hers while she was stuck in her mortal body, her form chapped and worn but eager nonetheless. Tongues met, yours still somehow so warm and slick against hers, and Ellie let out a soft whine. Usually, she'd never be this impatient. She wouldn't be this needy or this forward, but something deep inside her pussy was telling her she needed to take this moment for granted. Afterall, not everyday can you spend making out with a witch.

Ellie's hands wandered from her hold on your face to your shoulders, taking in your feminine form so perfect she could worship it for hours. She would be, in fact. And the best part was that you just let her. Somehow, you were telling her that this was how it was meant to be. Her palms moved to caress your breasts, how they fit so perfectly in her hands, she needed to visualize soon or she'd die.

And you only confirmed your awareness when you slipped off the clothes that were mended to your body, giving Ellie what she so desperately craved. Ellie noticed the way natural science of light opposed to your body, the way shadows avoided your frame. Your body was a work of art, a natural horror show if she ever knew one, and the branding on your hip was the same as hers yet the fading gut feeling telling her this was wrong disappeared as her fingertips brushed upon the indent the symbol made. However, Ellie's mouth had different wishes, instead latching onto one of your breasts, suckling at your nipple and almost fainting at the taste. Your skin was like a berry bush she wanted to eat away at for the rest of her life span, only so short but fulfilling.

Her lips trailed lower, tongue leaving a wet trail down your stomach and lapped at your hip, observing the way your face tilted back in what could only be identified as pleasure. So you weren't so mysterious after all. Ellie's mouth had a mind of its own, slipping further below until she reached your vagina. She was practically drooling at your body, the way your eyes stared down at her as if you knew the hold you had over her while she was only here to please you. Then it hit her.

That was her purpose here, wasn't it? The request she had kept away in her mind when she embarked upon her journey to you was a large one. Ellie had requested a great harm upon people and had expected you to deliver her greatest justice without payment. This was her payment: your pleasure. This didn't seem to deter her, as she finally placed sweltering smooches to your clit before wrapping her swollen lips around it. You were not holding back your own reactions, eyes glazing over with an obscene amount of pleasure, your brows shifting slightly upwards. This wasn't just a physical situation, but a comfort to your own soul too. That was a vulnerability shared without words, causing Ellie to only double down on her actions, her desperation to please you causing her tongue to find its way into your aching hole, tongue-fucking you with efforts greater than expressed by words. Enough was said telepathically.

Ellie's humble nose bumped away at your clit, and she had enough of playing it safe. She needed you. Ellie pulled away for only a moment to slide two fingers into your slick hole, not thrusting or jamming but instead brushing against the most sensitive spots inside of you as if she was intending to love you. In that moment, Ellie could've. And maybe she did. It wasn't improbable to say Ellie was overcome by the situation at hand, overcome by her own adoration for such a perfect woman. You were the peak of love, the arc of nature. The flat of her tongue nudged at your clit while her fingers continued on with their pace. Nothing could ever satiate her like the nectar that oozed from your most intimate form as she adored it with greedy hands.

When she finally felt you twist and bend with your peak, she couldn't help but marvel at the sight, the sounds, the sensations of wetness on her calloused fingers and tongue. She tried to coax the pleasure further out of you like a sailor baiting at fish, but she could hardly focus. The sight above her, the expressions she received from you, the velvet-sounding moans so delightful to hear were messing with her head.

When Ellie awoke, her head throbbed painfully. However, the expectation she had to awake in your lair were far from granted, as she seemed to awake in Jackson's infirmary. Not much was discussed about her trip. If anyone asked if Ellie had truly discovered some urban legend witch, she'd appear offended, her voice trailing off into a quiet denial. However, some things couldn't be hidden, even if she tried to distance herself from her night spend with a witch.

Several bodies were found not far from Jackson, all stripped of clothing, cold in the snow with symbols tattered across almost every inch of their skin. Most were nearly identifiable by the brutal weather. However, chillingly, one observation made was a female with a blonde braid in her hair, her body fairly strong and healthy. Ellie was given what she wanted, of course. She soon seemed to realize the memories of Joel never ceased. The pain never lessened as your body promised her.

Ellie came to realize after all was said and done that you weren't the perfection she seemed to chase after relentlessly. She would never fully pay you off for you lurked in her dreams when she tossed and turned, haunted by visions of your silhouette, of screams deep in the forest, sometimes haunted by her journey more than Joel. It wasn't only just sex, though. Your voice and the few words you shared only made the connection tethered more closer. You uttered so little yet her feelings were anything but just a divine lust. You would follow her heart, tear at it until the day she died, buried next to Joel in a shallow grave. Ellie was starting to wonder if even death would cut away at the curse you placed upon the poor girl.

[cvnt4him]

Hello!! I'm the same girl who requested for IT reader a while back, and I really liked it!<3 I wanted to try out requesting again so I'm here once more😭😭 Anyway, are you fine with family-centered stuff? Could you do heavy angst with Father!Number One!Izuku with his little girl? You can decide whatever for the child, really!(but personally I prefer daughter) So, since Izuku is the number one, Y/N is probably the one mostly taking care of their kid. What if there was this huge accident that killed Y/N because the heroes were too late to detain the villain? Plus points if Izuku was the hero assigned. So ever since the death, Izuku is suddenly the caretaker and tries his absolute best to make his kid happy but fails since the kid absolutely loathes him for being absent and for being too late to save their mother. What do you think Izuku will do?? So, yeah!! It's up to you if this isn't weird</3

Its not weird at all my love, thanm you for the req and I'm so glad to have you requesting from me again, feel free to stop by once more and leave some more, youre always welcome<33 I would also like to apologize to you and everyone else who has made a req and I haven't gotten to it. I won't get into detail but I've been busy, I've closed my reqs so I can get all my old ones out, most of my reqs are like months old anyways so here i am clesning out the closet.

...

“mr midoriya, where would you say your life went wrong?”

“ ....when I left my wife.. ”

Izuku was always infatuated with you, your beauty, your strength, how compassionate and caring you were. He thought you were just neat. You didn't have a quirk yet like him you still made it into UA. You were pretty smart and tried hard at everything you did. He admired you for that, he watched you closely and studied you. Not in a creepy way, but in a "I'm in love with you, notice me" way.

In your second year you'd finally taken a liking towards him, he was quite cute despite his odd haircut. You understood it was due to the trouble he went through in the war, he was strong reliable and terrifyingly selfless. Izuku midoriya was a great guy and you had really liked him, the two of you started going on sweet little dates together, walking in the park sharing an ice cream, going to the movies to see whats new, going to a carnival with some friends and sneaking off alone.

Those were the days izuku wished could've lasted forever, where nothing was wrong, peace was restored and everyone was happy. But as life does. It moves on. The world changes right before tour eyes and before you know it, it's been 8 years. The two of you are still happily together in fact married now, and expecting. Izuku and you had gotten out of college a couple years ago, he became a pro and you were in charge of the Deku Foundation. A silly name for a silly little guy.

Izuku was a family guy, he didn't see his father much growing up so he knew this was what he wanted. He wanted to assure to you, the mother of his unborn child, and to his unborn child that he would be there, always and forever. He held you at night and made you breakfast in the morning, he wasn't always there to eat it with you but he made sure to leave adorable little notes for you to feel special, you kept busy doing work for his company, exercising to try and reduce stretch marks and baby weight in the future, and cooking for fun. It was hard being pregnant but it was worth it. Is what you'd say.

Izuku could never forget the moment you had his baby. Those were the absolute happiest moments in his life, no doubt about it. Watching his baby leave from your birth canal, he seen the way you screamed in agony with the final push. He was so mesmerized by it all, his wife just gave birth to his... beautiful babygirl.

“congratulations, mr and mrs midoriya, it's a girl.”

When the doctors gave you your baby, he watched closely as she stopped crying immediately at the contact of your skin, your soft voice shushing her sounds away, he pleas and cries powering down as she calmer herself. Its like you were a magical being, izuku was so enamoured with it, with you. With his new baby.

Holding her for the first time was his dream, it was even better than he could've possibly imagined. He sighed and tried to hold back tears, yet they fell asleep if a water faucet was left on, he sniffled and hiccupped as he tried to hold her closely, he took off his shirt so she could feel that skin to skin contact that babies are supposed to love. He read a book about parenting, of course the book would've been better for you to read because it was how to prepare for child birth but either way; it worked.

This moment, truly was the happiest one yet; but as life does. It moves on. And before he knew it 6 years had passed, you're beautiful babygirl was in first grade! She was making friends learning a lot and laughing and playing like kids her age should. She loved the outdoors and loved animals, she enjoyed small things like butterflies and rabbits. She was such a vibrant little girl, a splitting image from izuku too, mind the couple of genetics of yours that had shined through. Izuku loved his girls so much, watching the way you two played together, when you did her hair, read to her, his favorite thing of all was to watch you to crochet.

It was so calming, you would hold her close and show her carefully how to apply the yarn, teaching her how to swap colors smoothly and humming gently to her. Izuku watched you both closely, he's a very observant man, with that being said watching his girls was hos favorite thing to do. It's like you two were a show he could never get tired of, a program that was played just for him.

Izuku was a pro now and as much as he loved you both, he had a job to do. One that he couldn't fail, it ate him away that hr couldn't just sit with his girls all day long. Listen to little stories his baby has to share about her day at school. As much as he disliked it, he would even love to listen to his wife rant on and on about a little dream she had the other night, how the washer was in the kitchen instead of the laundry room and looked like an oven instead. Such odd dreams you had.

Izuku hadn't even realized it, but he had been spending more and more time at his agency, accidentally sleeping there and coming home 4 hours before he had to go back up there. It was tiring, he was tired, yet he had a job to do. And he wouldn't fail. You two started seeing less of him, it saddened your daughter deeply yet you tried to remind her constantly that he is a hero, and heroes have jobs to do. She would nod and give you a smile still laced with disappointment, sadness.

What really pissed you off was when he promised your little girl he'd be there for her science fair, yet didn't show. She won and everything, he promised her he'd help with making it. Whoops he couldn't do that because he was working. No matter! He apologized so you both just slid it off. However this was the last straw for you. Driving home you were furious, seeing your little girl in the mirror with a frown as she fiddled with her ribbon.

You stayed up late that night. Assuring that you'd catch him, and once you did you two argued. Which is something you'd never done, of course you two would bicker and disagree on things, but this was unlike those times. You were both yelling and had possibly woken up your daughter, but neither of you could care. Too blinded by your own fury, you had banished him and he left without a word. Without a second thought, without looking back.

“ I wish I looked back.... I wish I would've apologized, I wish I could've been there when she needed me; when they needed me... ”

That was the last time he'd seen you alive.

It was a normal day for the most part, besides the fact that you two had argued two nights before and hasn't spoken since. Izuku hadn't seen his daughter nor spoken to her either, it was eating away at him but he didn't have time to focus on that right now.. he was getting a signal from one of his sidekicks out on patrol.

“ deku! We need you! There's been an accident! There's a huge fire breathing villain who's trapped a woman and her daughter!”

A woman and her daughter.... That had to be a coincidence. It was, it had to be. Tons of people have daughters and just so happen to be women as well. Hell, he bets it's not even her daughter!!

“its- it's your wife...”

A loud scream was heard on the sidekicks line, izuku was terrified, he moved without even thinning jumping out of the nearest window zooming through the air trying to reach you. So many things going through his mind, why were you out? What were you doing? You never go out, why now! Why was his daughter there?

He was trying his damnedest to reach you, he couldn't help but feel like time was slowing down. Like he wasn't fast enough, meanwhile in actuality he was moving faster than the speed of sound. So why wasn't he there yet? He groaned in annoyance at this, he couldn't shake the terrible shrieking sound that came from the other line.. it terrified him.

“ come in! Is everything alright?! What's the situation?! ”

“i...”

“ what?! what is it, spit it out?! ”

“ I'm sorry... ”

Sorry? Sorry for what? Why the hell was he saying sorry? The only question izuku could find himself wondering. Upon arriving he sees people running, fire burning everywhere and debris filling the air, he coughed through the smoke putting on his mask and zooming through the thick fog. He found his sidekick, no wonder his voice was so hoarse and dry, he had collapsed and passed out. Izuku took him to the nearby ambulance that was present before going back through the smoke to find you.

Other heroes were arriving on scene and searching for other civilians, trying to get them out while others tried taking down the villain, he was huge and was not going down without a fight. Izuku couldn't even try to worry about the villain, you and his daughter were his main focus.

“ daddy! Please help us! ”

The sound of his daughter wailing with a cracky voice, it shattered his heart he followed the sound of crying until he found the two of you, your daughter by your side holding your arm tears falling down her reddened cheeks, she was dirty and covered and muck. She also just so happened to be covered in...blood.

“ princess... what.. what happened.. ”

His daughter ran into his arms bursting into even more tears hiccuping and sobbing. Her cries were loud and full of sadness anyone within a mile radius could tell and even hear, izuku picked you up in his arms not even taking the time to assure you were okay, not checking a pulse or to see if you were breathing. He just swooped you up in his arms bridal style and had his daughter on his back, telling her to cover her mouth. He zoomed through the smoke and handed you both over to the ambulance, they were quick to ail you both.

Izuku was soon to go help the other heroes in scene but first he looked back to you, to see them giving you air and performing CPR, his eyes widened and just as he was about to go back over to you, he tried to rush to your side before being caught by none other than..

“ deku, c'mon we need you. ”

“ kach- erm- dynamite. I can't, I have to— ”

“ come. on. ”

The fiery blonde yanked the large green haired male by his suit and dragged him back into action, he thought this was for the best. Leaving your side this last time to finish slaying this beast.

The fight was over and everyone who had been injured was taken to the nearest hospitals, the villain who had caused all of this trouble was taken into custody and was going to be behind bars for a long time. During the fight people could tell izuku was letting out pent up steam on the villain, he could've killed him. He was sure of it, everyone was. He had be pulled off in order for him to stop. You were hurt and his daughter could've gotten hurt. Izuku felt the villain deserved far much worse than to be behind bars. But at least he was rotting.

Izuku went to see you in the hospital, waiting for hours on end, pacing back and forth a million things on his mind. His daughter had been released a while ago, she was fine apart from the smoke inhalation. He couldn't believe she didn't have a single scratch on her, but he was glad and very much thankful. She sat in the nearest seat taking it easy, watching izuku pace around before finally, some news..

“ mr midoriya— ”

“ what- what's going on is my wife okay?! what's the problem, can I go and see her?? ”

“ I uhm... ahem. I'm afraid I have some bad news.. Mr midoriya. ”

Izukus expression fell, his eyes widened yet his face was completely blank. His heart dropped and completely shattered at the words the doctor said to him. His daughter immediately broke down. Tears were brimming in his eyes, he was borderline shaking in his red boots. He felt bile rising in his throat, the burning sensation making tears fall. They fell and never stopped. He held his daughter close that night. Never letting her go. He was afraid if he did... She might leave him.

....

“ I see. and how does that make you feel?”

“ ... are you seriously asking me how my dead wife makes me fucking feel. ”

“ yes. It's been 9 years, you've retired from hero work and have been seeing me for quite some time yet we never seem to talk about her. ”

Fuck... 9 years had completely flown by him. He hadn't even realized.. you'd been gone for 9 years....

“ I... I.. ”

“ your daughter will be a freshman at UA this year, correct? How does that make you feel? Have you checked in with your daughter? Have you asked how she's been? How has she coped with her mother's death? ”

Izuku was speechless. 9 years had passed, he can't seem to remember much and his daughter.. the last piece of you he has, is starting school at the very high school you two met at. Where did the time go...

AN: I'm not good at angst if you can't tell, this is a shite ending and uhm I've been feeling like shit so I hope this makes you feel shitty, but in like a good way yk? I want you to feel so hurt and sad that it makes you think 'wow.. this is some good shit right here.'

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Perfume Regret

ExBoyfriend!Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: A fic inspired by Attention by Charlie Puth. Your ex-boyfriend Miguel O'Hara left you heartbroken and no matter how intense the effect he has on you still is, you're determined to use this party to get even.

Warnings: +18 meaning SMUT AND LANGUAGE MINORS DNI OR SO HELP ME GOD. Also there's angst and good old anger-fueled sex. The ending isn't heartbreaking don't worry.

Word count: 4K

I know that dress is karma 

Perfume regret 

Got me thinking 'bout when you were mine 

Nightclubs had never been your scene. 

While you weren't strictly averse to them, you didn't thrive in that element as much as some of your friends did. Yet, whenever you decided to make an appearance, it wasn't the stroboscopic lights, the promise of a few drinks with friends, or the energizing music that made the night worth it. 

It was the hunt. 

And the preparations began long before you even set foot out of your apartment, from the moment you stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe, your face a blank canvas. Getting ready with your favorite, emboldening playlist was usually a luxury but not tonight. Judging by the way you struggled to apply eyeliner over your lids with such shaky hands, tonight, you were in dire need of a crushing amount of confidence. 

So much so that a glass with one remaining sip of red wine stood next to your makeup bag, waiting for you to take that last bit of liquid courage. 

Yes, the mere thought of the chase always made your chest swell with excitement. The stolen glances from across the dancefloor until someone gave in and tried to make contact. Loud music left people no choice but to hold conversations in loud whispers that tickled your ear. The desperate attempts to make themselves worthy of your time and the small concessions you made to make them feel like the most special person in that tiny, packed, overpriced club. Flirting was a tango meant for two, and not knowing what kind of partner you'd be dancing with was exhilarating. 

Not this time, however, you thought as you picked up the glass and poured the remaining wine down your throat. Tonight you were after a much too familiar prey that you'd once been dumb enough to let get away. 

As soon as you got the digital invitation to the Alchemax Innovation Department New Year's Eve party, you knew it was time to settle the score. 

A short buzz coming from your phone interrupted your train of thought as the screen lit up with a text from whom you considered to be your work best friend, Liz. 

Heyy :) u coming? 

Yep. Be there in 20, is everybody there already?

O'Hara is missing. Idk if he's coming, though. 

Oh. 

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of all of this being for nothing. Whatever,. Who cared? You weren't doing this for him. You were doing it for yourself because you wanted to go out and have fun. 

A weak smile tugged at your lips when you couldn't even convince yourself with that blatant lie. God, you felt like a terrible feminist at the moment. Screw you, Miguel O'Hara. 

Those had been the last words you said to him before marching out of his apartment and slamming the door after you. Ever since that week during which he’d vanished from work with no explanation, your boyfriend had started to cancel your dates at the last minute or still be out at odd hours, and when he started to simply disappear and not answer your calls or texts several times throughout the day you began to worry.

When he asked if you could talk about something important, you figured you'd be getting an explanation, not dumped. 

The reason, according to him? He was dealing with some personal issues that he could not tell you about, but he'd single-handedly decided it was in your best interest to just move on with your life, so he'd decided to break things off. His face when he said all of that remained engraved in your brain since that day. Cold. Logical. As devoid of any visceral emotion as a doctor would be when recommending you to give up carbs or red meat. 

Two years of your life you'd given to him. You were planning to move in together. You were happy. For what felt like the very first time in your life, you were in love. 

You took a deep breath to keep tears from running down your cheeks and ruining your mascara. 

Even almost six months later, your heart painfully fluttered at the mention of his name.

Carefully, you dried your eyes with a piece of paper and took another deep, slow breath. Your eyes, beautifully framed by a smoky eyeshadow, slowly traced the reflection of your body in the mirror. A sleek, simple dress with a small slit on the side hugged your figure. You loved the color: a nearly black navy blue that matched your chosen makeup palette. 

At the sound of your phone, your eyes drifted down to the lit-up screen. 

Oh, nvm, he just got here. 

The game was afoot. 

As much as it hurt your pride to admit it, you were decidedly nervous as you made your way into the dimly lit nightclub, your eyes discreetly scanning the crowd in search of a particular set of brown eyes. 

Suddenly, a voice made your face in the opposite direction. 

"(Y/N)! Over here!" Liz called from the bar, waving at you with a huge smile that you returned as you walked towards her after wistfully looking at the busy crowd one last time. It wasn't until you reached the bar that you noticed she was sitting next to a man you didn't recognize. 

"So, this is she," she nearly yelled right next to the man's ear when you got close enough to be heard above the deafening electronic beats. 

"Hi, (Y/N), right?" He said, reaching out one hand, "I'm David. Liz has told me a lot about you," 

"Dave here just joined the team," Liz explained, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "I thought it would be nice to make him feel welcomed. I'll leave you to it. I have to go say hi to a few people," She continued as she left the bar, not before giving you a certain look that made you realize you'd walked straight into a trap. While David was decidedly handsome, and you could've considered him to be your type under different circumstances, right then, your mind was somewhere else. 

"Sure," You replied distractedly, "So why did you choose to work here?" 

That should be enough to keep him talking for a while about his college education and how all he'd ever wanted to do was work for this company and so on while you focused on the matter at hand. 

Where the hell was he? 

Could it be that he'd just popped in to greet a few people and had left before you arrived? Before the countdown? 

Maybe he was celebrating New Year's with somebody else? 

"Sorry, one shot of tequila, please," You loudly called as the bartender walked past you. 

"Make that two, thanks man," David added with a flirtatious smile that you returned out of politeness, mentally praying for Liz to come back soon, knowing damn well that if she'd done this on purpose, there'd be no way out of this conversation. 

You downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of you. 

David asked you something, but his voice reached your ears as if he was underwater. For a minute, you wondered if such a small amount of alcohol could make you feel so dizzy until you realized it was something else. Your eyes had landed on the back of a familiar head. Brown, scruffy hair and a hearty laugh that had your hands shaking again as you placed the glass back on the wooden bar. 

"God, I'm so sorry. My head's all over the place right now. You were saying?" You said, leaning closer to David. 

"I asked if Alchemax tends to go easy on the new guys or kick them to the curb at the first mistake." 

You laughed as if he'd just told an amazing joke, your eyes covertly going from his face to your target right behind him. At the sound of your laugh, his back stiffened, and you could see he was about to turn around. Right before he did, you quickly tore your eyes off him and glued them to David's face. 

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be just fine. I'll tell you what, I'll look out for you. How's that sound?” You replied, a more relaxed smile plastered on your face. David's eyes lit up. Poor guy. He probably thought that out of nowhere, his luck had shifted. 

Slowly and without losing the amused grin, you peeked over David's shoulder and found Miguel O'Hara's searing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. Instead, he let those same calculating eyes unashamedly scrutinize every inch of your body that your gorgeous dress didn't cover and secretly fantasize about what it did. 

Another loud laughter leaving your lips made him snap out of a trance-like state and look into your eyes. Hunting on grounds you were no stranger to had its advantages, such as knowing what to do and when. And so you didn't look away. You held his gaze, undaunted, as you took David's unfinished tequila and brought it up to your lips to take a sip, barely sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the last droplets off your lower lip. You mouthed an apology to the man before you as you walked away from the bar, both for the stolen tequila and for what was about to happen. 

Trying your hardest not to smile or look at him, you made your way through the crowd straight toward Miguel, whose eyes you knew had remained with you since that intense visual exchange back at the bar. You felt them so intensely that you wondered if he could make you burst out in flames just by looking at you. You clenched your jaw as you got close enough for the scent of his enticing cedarwood cologne to fill your nostrils and travel all the way down to your chest, where your heart beat so strongly that it physically hurted. 

You only had one shot. This was it. 

It wasn't until you walked right past him that you finally acknowledged him, gifting him a faint smile as you stepped around him and walked toward the restrooms. 

As soon as the door closed after you, you found the two stalls were empty. After confirming you were alone, a nervous grin took over your features. Biting your lip, you approached the mirror and distractedly began to comb your hair back in place and even retouched your nude lipstick, your eyes set on the reflection of the bathroom door. 

Almost as if you'd timed it, the second you finished applying your makeup and threw it back into your purse, Miguel stealthily slid inside and shut the door after him. 

A minute that felt like an eternity to him transcurred while you kept patiently tucking strands of hair behind your ears, concealing a smug grin. Something had to give. More often, sooner than later. 

"Mind telling me what the fuck was that?" 

His voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears like a once-favorite song you hadn't heard in months. 

"What do you mean?" You calmly asked, never interrupting your task. 

"(Y/N), stop that and look at me." He commanded, his patience wearing thinner by the second. 

"I am looking at you," You nonchalantly replied, your eyes transfixed on his tense shape in the corner of the mirror as you slowly wiped some smudged lipstick off the edge of your bottom lip. 

Outside, the one-minute countdown began. Neither of you could care less. Inside that dimly lit, empty nightclub bathroom, time was irrelevant. 

In less than five steps, Miguel reached your side and, placing his hands on your shoulders, firmly spun you around to face him. 

"Carajo, ¿Tú no entiendes, verdad?" He hissed, his next leaving his mouth after an ominous pause, "Now look at me."

Not happy with the way you were being handled, you shoved him away and shot him a glare with your arms folded before you. 

"There, I'm looking. What do you want?" 

"I want you to tell me who's that asshole and why you seem to think he's so damn funny," 

"I'm sorry, O'Hara, that's none of your business anymore, is it?" You spat out.

"It was none of my business,' He agreed, wincing at the dry use of his last name, "Until you showed up in here looking like that, laughing like a dumb teen at some guy's dumb jokes, making sure I'm watching after you did some pretty extensive research to make sure I was coming."

Wanting to rebuke that argument, you immediately opened your mouth just for him to interrupt you. 

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out, bonita?" 

Miguel started to move towards you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. Still, you weren't sure of what you would've said had you been given the time. Three seconds later, he was standing right before you, trapping you against the cold stone of the sinks.

"Why are you doing this?" He absentmindedly asked, as if he was actually questioning himself or already knew the answer. Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of your perfume along with something else that you couldn’t perceive but seemed to pull him forward so violently that he had to use both his strong arms on either side of you to hold himself back. Still, he kept babbling against the soft skin of your neck, “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…mi amor, I just wanted to protect you,” 

“Protect me from what?” You asked in a breathy whisper, your self-control flaking when you felt him move even closer until your backside was pressed against the sink and your front...

You pressed your lips together to keep a noise that would be much too revealing from leaving your lips. 

Still, you realized your trials and tribulations weren’t over when his hands slowly moved closer to your thighs until his thumbs were tracing faint circles on them. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a hoarse voice before burying his nose behind your ear once more. You had to want him to stop. Before you could gather up the courage to tell him off as you should, you leaned forward and feverishly pressed your lips against his in a kiss that was all but sweet. Without breaking the kiss, in a display of both strength and coordination that was new to you, Miguel slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the sink with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the way he nudged your legs out of the way so he could grind his lower half into yours. This time there was no way in hell you could contain your moans. 

Pleased with the beautiful sounds he was eliciting from you, Miguel’s hands found their way back up to the thin straps of your dress, which he gently slid off from your shoulders before gripping your chin in his hand and tilting your head to the side so he could devour every inch of skin available, occasionally trapping it between his teeth to make sure it’d leave a mark. Even in your haze, you could notice there was something new to the way he was ravishing you. It was as if he was desperately trying to be gentle, to take things slow, just for something primal to take over and coerce him into taking you for himself. 

Once again, you stopped thinking when he pressed the hard bulge in his pants against you, the friction over your barely clothed clit throwing all logical thoughts out the window. 

“We don’t have much time,” You urged him, not even sure if he’d locked the door after himself. However, deep inside, you knew your motives had less to do with the little privacy and more with the way he unhurriedly worshipped your body and peppered kisses all over it, how his hands gently roamed it as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. It reminded you of what you two had in a way that was still too painful to remember. You wouldn’t lose yourself to the memories of your past and miss out on how good he was making you feel right now. Tonight you weren’t two people deeply in love with one another trying to fight back the regrets of letting go of what was most precious to you, but two strangers about to fuck in the bathroom of a nightclub. 

As if to reinforce that thought, he swiftly pushed you further back onto the sink and pushed your legs apart even more, your dress ridding up almost all the way to your waist. You shivered as new skin was exposed to both the cold beneath you and the heat from Miguel’s skin as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Meanwhile, you kept yourself busy trying to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands and silently thanked he wasn’t wearing a jacket in the first place. You needed to get him out of as many clothes as possible in the little time you had, needing to feel more of his skin against yours. 

Your desire wasn’t fulfilled until the shirt slid off his tan, broad shoulders, and you were pressed against his bare chest, his hands resting at the curve of your lower back as his head barely slid over your soaked slit, prying a raspy moan out of his throat that sounds almost painful. Still, even when you slid your hands around his shoulders and intertwined your fingers behind the nape of his head, he didn’t move further. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathlessly asked, arching your back towards him with a huff just for him to move his hips away, escaping your touch, trying to regain some control over himself. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” He muttered. Shit. Not right now. Out of the whole night, he had to choose this precise moment? No. He hurt you. He owed you. And now it was his turn to shut up and take it. 

Taking advantage of his low guard, you hooked your feet behind his back and roughly pulled him towards you, another needy moan escaping your lips as you felt him right at your entrance, whatever remaining reluctance keeping him from sinking into you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from begging. 

“Alright,” He finally says, his hands sliding under your thighs to hold you firmly in place, “If this is what it takes for you to listen to me, bonita, así le vamos a hacer entonces.” 

He accentuated his words by slamming into you and immediately picking up a maddeningly fast pace, the loud music outside hopefully drowning out your endless string of broken moans. 

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” He spoke in a strained voice in between thrusts. 

“Shut up,” You snapped at him. You were happy. And it did nothing but further enrage you to see he was unaware of how miserable you were now without him. Or maybe he was aware because he reached that spot that always made your legs uncontrollably quiver and focused all his energy on it as if he was trying to make up for everything. 

“I love you,” He blurted out as he felt you clenching around his length, his hips stuttering for a second before the sigh that left your lips made him lift your leg further up his torso and slam into you with renewed fire, “God, (Y/N) I love you so much, I can’t do this anymore,” 

“Shut up,” You sobbed, this time as a plead and not an order. Your heart fluttered as you heard the words you’d waited months to hear, and feeling him roughly stroke your walls at this new angle became too much for you to bear. A string of ‘shut ups’ and sounds that resembled his name left your lips as your hands fell to his stomach, trying to push him away while paradoxically needing him to be closer, needing to feel more of him just in case this was the last time you felt him stretch you out in a way you were hauntingly certain nobody else would ever come close to. 

And he wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to pull your head against his chest and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to get on his knees and spend the rest of the night apologizing using his words or his tongue, whatever you wanted as long as you went home with him that night. He wanted you to live a happy, normal life. He couldn’t give you that anymore. Not after that night. Not after the accident. 

But those bad thoughts melted away in his brain when he saw your eyes pressed shut, your beautiful, furrowed eyebrows arching over them perfectly as you chased that high that Miguel knew only he could give you. Something that sounded like an actual sentence left your lips so quietly that he had to lean closer to get it. 

“What was that, bonita?” 

You pressed your lips together, unwilling to repeat yourself until another perfectly calculated thrust pried the half-coherent words out of your mouth. 

“Need you…inside. Please, Miguel, please,”  

Hearing his name being called out like that for the first time in months was all he needed to come undone, his pace faltering as he pressed himself against you, strong arms gripping your waist as he spilled his load inside you with one last labored moan. 

Nothing but extenuated pants could be heard inside the bathroom for a whole, tense minute before you finally moved, taking a few sheets of paper from the dispenser next to the sinks to clean yourself up. 

“What are you doing?” He asked as you straightened your dress and tried to somehow fix your disheveled hair. 

“You wanted to apologize, you did, and I forgive you,” You categorically answered, “But don’t expect me to come running back into your arms as if what you did was nothing,” 

Still, you needed him to know there was hope left for the both of you. So you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then his cheek, granting yourself one moment of vulnerability as you looked into his eyes with a gentle smile. 

“I love you too,” You whispered, giving in to the urge to kiss him again. You basked in his shocked look before turning your back to him and going back to the party, where you bumped into Liz less than five minutes later. 

“There you are! Where the hell were you? You missed the countdown!” 

It wasn’t until you looked around at the confetti-filled floor and the large numbers on a screen that you remembered. 

“I went to the bathroom,” You replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and reaching out to take a glass of champagne from one of the several trays atop the tables, “Where did your friend run off to?” 

“David?” Liz asked, a deep red blush spreading over her cheeks, “He had to go home. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re getting dinner next Friday,” 

“Don’t mind at all,” You replied with a bright smile, eyes already scanning the half-empty club, once again looking for that same face. The one you knew you’d always look for in a crowd for the rest of your life. This time, thanks to the small number of people left, it wasn’t hard to come across his eyes. Amused, you raised your glass at him with a soft, genuine laugh. He did his best to look annoyed, but the minute you tilted your head and gave him your best apologetic look, Miguel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a reluctant smile that made you laugh again before taking a sip of that cheap champagne. 

This was going to be a great year.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5995

Jalsa, Mumbai July 17/July 18, 2024 Wed/Thu 9:27 am

🪔 ,

July 17 .. birthday greetings to Ef Walaa Zakariya Mohamed Ali from Egypt 🇪🇬 .. 🌷🙏🏻❤️🚩

July 18 .. birthday greetings to Ef Hitesh Kshtriya from Norway 🇳🇴 .. and Ef Zafar Keymaker .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

my sincere wishes for this special day, and my prayers and wishes as ever .. ❤️

I wished for the late night writing, but as always some delays took place and the night became the morning .. 😁 .. which is to say that the Blog has been written and being written now ..

There is again a bit of a rush because in a while shall have to leave for work .. and work timings are always special and need to be adhered to .. if a delay occurs informing the work place is a help but it cannot keep occuring every time .. the odd day when it gets difficult or there is a legitimate cause ..

The last few days remembering Babuji and his times and his words and the timing of his words, become so important .. and it does become rather absorbing when , a thought that has lived with you for a while before opening any of his works and after a random turn of a page one finds that the words that had been loitering about in your mind , seem to have travelled, to the thoughts of Babuji .. and with great surprise I find them in his writing .. unknowingly and without any pre intent of deliberately trying to find them ..

... you know what I mean .. it is just sudden and quite unintentionally amazing to find them there .. telepathic intent aside .. it occurs ..

.. it is quite strange is it not that during the course of a day .. any day or time or place or environ, something happens and you suddenly feel that you have seen the same feel before .. somewhere .. before ..

and you stop for a while .. and think .. and declare it, if the environ and place is receptive enough for it , and its surroundings ..

Babuji's diary during his days of Cambridge when he studies for his PhD are so descriptive and so readable .. that I find as though he were sitting just across the desk and narrating it to me ..

in fact some of the thoughts that I have read in some of his words describe this quite clearly -

he has said that at times the poetry of a poet should be as though a person is sitting just before you and you are reciting or writing those words and thoughts for them .. in this very personal environ ..

.. many speech specialists and those that indulge in public speaking seem to follow or practice similar .. speak as though you address a single individual .. despite the fact that there are hundreds before you ..

it is quite remarkable that what you may have unconsciously observed during any stage of your life, you quite unconsciously still get a flash of it at any time as a rememberance ..

In fact , when faced with any problem for which you may not be able to find an immediate solution, you tend to revert back to the advice of your parents and elders .. for, their blessings are divine .. and when we show our reverence by touching their feet, we submit ourselves to their greatness and respectfully sublimate ourselves to them , irrespective of time place environ .. with the greatest of love and affection ..

much as I would like to and do so when in the presence of the elder or the one that is felt with respect and dignity ..

और अब काम के कुछ क्षण :

work work work .. the only incentive to life and living

Love and more ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 5 Eng Sub

VS THE START OF A ROMANCE and VS HELPING

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translation notes:

About “naresome”

As tends to happen when translating Japanese, this is one of those words that don’t exist in English. Its literal translation is “the start of a romance.” So, while we’ve chosen to translate it as “get together,” it would be more accurate to give a more extensive explanation. It is a noun that specifically refers to the moment that love begins. So when we’re talking about “naresome” we’re talking about the thing or situation that triggered the romantic relationship or romantic feelings.–Snow

about casting Tominaga Yuya as a guy who gets busy when it rains

I think this is another tokusatsu Easter egg. Tominaga Yuya, who plays Jouji in the “Vs. The Start of a Relationship” chapter, was also on Avataro Sentai DonBrothers, a Super Sentai series that ran from 2022 to 2023. His character, Sonoi, was the agent of a culture from another plane of existence whose members feed off of the brainwaves of human beings. At first, he and his associates Sonoza and Sononi were enemies of the DonBrothers, but they eventually joined forces with the Sentai. A big reason this happened was that Sonoi had a special connection to the leader of the DonBrothers, Momoi Tarou. Their relationship reads as pretty darned queer to a lot of viewers, myself included.

Momoi Tarou and Sonoi bonding, before they found out they were nemeses

Many JBL fans know Higuchi Kouhei from My Personal Weatherman/Taikan Yoho, in which he played the titular meteorologist, Segasaki. Part of the premise of that series is that at the start of the story, Higuchi’s character only has sex with his partner on sunny days. Jouji, Tominaga’s Zettai BL character, does the opposite: he and his “sex friend” only do it on rainy days. 

Basically, the writers of Zettai BL 3 have made Higuchi’s toku boyfriend’s story into a reverse Taikan Yoho situation. What are the odds that’s just a coincidence?–Towel

Also, he gets his own “Zettai BL” title card moment (and he’s the only one out of the secondary cast who get to have that).–Snow

That’s right!

I’m going to put this in context a little because I’ve given a lot of thought (probably too much) to who’s been featured in the opening credits of the different Zettai BL seasons. For every season of the show so far, Inukai Atsuhiro has had four other actors perform with him in the opening theme dance number. (All of whom also get a crack at some of those title card moments.) For two seasons, three of the four spots were taken up by Yutaro (Ayato), Shiono Akihisa (Toujou), and Itou Asahi (Kikuchi). The fourth spot was taken up by different actors in the first two seasons. It was the guy who played the attractive dude from the goukon in the first season, and it was Izuka Kenta, who played Kikuchi’s ex Igarashi, in the second. 

This time around, I had hoped that Sekoguchi Ryo would take the fourth spot, because he’s my blorbo and of course I wanted to see him in a retro dance number (boy was that wish ever granted!). But I hadn’t expected Shiono not to appear this time. Maybe there were specific reasons for this, like a scheduling conflict or an injury. It’s not like Shiono appears less in season 3 than he did in the others, so that’s not the reason. It’s hard to say. But in that context, it seems even more significant that they gave a spot to Tominaga Yuya. We don’t know the reasons for this. But it’s possible they featured him more heavily in this way because of his tokusatsu backstory and the inside joke it allowed them to make.–Towel

about “pudding relationship” and “prince and princess”

This part was tricky to translate. As you might have noticed by this point, Mob likes to make puns. In Japanese, pudding is written as “purin” and it is used to refer to pudding as well as custard. Mob goes on to follow with “prince and princess”, which in Japanese are pronounced as “purinsu” and “purinsesu”. In here, there’s wordplay with these similar sounding words and the image of the ToujouAyato couple.–Snow  

about “cuteness overload”

Japanese is a language that uses a lot of onomatopoeia. There’s 4 types, iirc: animal sounds, object sounds (like rain, creaking and the like), things that don’t make noise (smiles, stares, silence, etc), verbs turned onomatopoeia (I unfortunately cannot remember this properly but it was something like that). In this case, Mob says “Kyun ga tomaranai” (which literally means “the kyun can’t be stopped”). “Kyun” is an onomatopoeic word to refer to a “momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings,” usually tied to a romantic context but not exclusively. Taking this into account, we thought “cuteness overload” might be the closest expression in English.–Snow

It’s worth noting that Mob is also saying “kyun” right after the “cuteness overload” line. I really thought at first that he was saying “cute,” since it sounds so similar, it would make a lot of sense contextually, and English loan words are so common in Japanese. But no, it was “kyun.” There was no way we could get across the meaning of “kyun” in one or two syllables of English, so we went with “adorbs,” which is just another word for “cute,” but at least it has a cutesy pronunciation that steps it up a notch.–Towel

about bouhan buzzers (16:06)

The translation note shown onscreen during this scene reads: “a bouhan buzzer is a security gadget carried by Japanese schoolchildren.” We did our best to summarize the meaning of this term briefly, so that it would be readable in the amount of time it was possible for us to keep that caption onscreen. But here’s a longer explanation for those who might be curious. 

It took a while for me to understand what these things were. At first I pictured something like a hand buzzer–the kind that people used to use to prank people. But it’s nothing like that. They’re sometimes referred to as “personal security alarms.” They’re little doodads that you can clip onto a backpack or carry in your pocket, and if you activate them (the most common mechanism for which seems to be pulling some kind of tab or string), they make some form of alarm-type sound. I found a video, below, that shows someone activating two different types of buzzers, showing the sound they make. 

These two make the same sort of beeping/chirping noises you’d associate with an alarm protecting a car or the entrance to a building–not really a “buzzing” sound, or anything that resembles the sound Mr. Cheerleader makes in this scene. But maybe there are other types that are more buzz-like, or sound more like the sound our buddy is imitating. 

According to some things I read when I looked these up, children often play with their bouhan buzzers, making it somewhat less likely that people will be on alert when they hear them go off. I don’t think I could have resisted setting off a gadget like this if I’d had one as a child. They seem to be available with all sorts of characters on them and in all sorts of colors and shapes, which is cool but might make them seem even more toy-like. 

From what I’ve seen, these things are most commonly used by children, but adults sometimes use them too. If you look for them for sale online, there are more adult-looking versions available (say, a rose-gold blob instead of something with cute characters on it–though of course, adults might want those too). One listing I saw advertised that they’re useful for kids, women, and the elderly.–Towel

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[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts III

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** Life really couldn’t get any worse, could it? You were just informed that V wasn’t able to finish up your tattoo today, but luckily, Jungkook was. Due to some confidential issues, V wouldn’t be back for a while and the only other person that fit the style for your tattoo was Jungkook. That’s how you ended up here, sitting in his office, skirt slightly riding up your thighs, waiting for him to enter and finish your tattoo. How ironic that he was the one that started it, and the one to finish it, even though now it had a completely different meaning. A few (long) minutes later, JK walked into his office, looking at you sitting so nicely. “Look who’s back. Couldn’t get enough of me, I see?” He speaks in a cocky tone and it makes you want to punch his handsome face. “Quit acting like you’re special. I’m here to get the tattoo finished. That’s it.” Venom laced your voice, you were not willing to put up with his bullshit today. He shrugged, sitting on the small stool beside the tattooing chair. You pulled down your sweater sleeve to expose the tattoo that needed to be finished, wanting to get out as quickly as possible. Waiting for the familiar prick of the tattoo gun, you closed your eyes and looked away…but it never came. You turned your head to look at Jungkook, wondering why he hadn’t started yet. His tongue was poking the inside of his cheek, why did he have to look hot when doing that? You could feel your pussy throb a little, not being able to deny that you’ve missed him. Jungkook leans his forearms onto his knees, giving you a knowing look, “You gotta take the sweater off. I can’t do anything if you don’t, the gun could get caught on your sweater and pull it.” “That’s fine, just do it now. It’s an old sweater anyways.” There were boundaries, sure you could compliment how hot he was internally, and you could still moan his name when using your vibrator, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna strip for him. He sighed at your stubbornness, leaning back on the stool, crossing his arms. Those actions made it easier to see his muscles, made it easier to imagine how he could pick you up and fuck himself into you if he wanted…he’d never want you. Look at yourself. It was a one time thing. “You need to take the sweater off, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a bra before. Just do it, Y/N. I’m not in the mood for your stubborn attitude.” With hesitation, you took off your sweater, placing it beside you. You used your arms to cross over your tummy, god damn it, he’d managed to even make you insecure! A low groan echoed through his office, but he played it off as he stood up to grab black gloves. No words were spoken as he turned on the tattoo gun and began his work. You were screaming internally, why had it hurt so much? Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned your head to the side trying not to let the pain be evident on your face. Everything was fine, until you felt a gloved hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it to comfort you. You wanted to shove his hand off, but the feeling was comforting in an odd way, so you decided to leave it. You both stayed like that for a while, him getting up every now and again to get or refill an ink container. But when one prick got too much for you, you flinched and pulled away. This made Jungkook stop in his tracks, his eyes meeting yours when he turned off the ink gun. “Too much?” He asked lowly, keeping his hand on your thigh, carefully and slowly moving it up just a little. “I just need a second…” you asked quietly, letting out a shaky breath. His hand kept getting closer and closer to where you really wanted him. No, not wanted, needed. Jungkook stayed still, looking up at you as his gloved hands kept moving up. They reached the hem of your panties, he gently fiddled with it. Reality hit you hard, pulling away and furrowing your brows. Jungkook seemed to be knocked out of some sort of daze, “What?” He asked, clearly oblivious…or maybe he knew just what he was doing.

“This is never going to happen. Not now, not ever.” You spat at him, grabbing your sweater and standing up.  

Jungkook stopped you before you could stand up, “Why not, baby? You’ve fallen for me before, you can do it again.” He leaned in closer, whispering into your ear, “Or maybe I should fuck it back into you…”

Those words went straight to your core, making your panties wet with desire and possibly hate. “You touch me and I’ll break your dick off.” That wasn’t true, maybe you’d suck his dick off, but not break it off.  

He chuckled, a deep and husky laugh. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently kissing your neck, he let his hands wander down to your pussy again. “God, baby, you say you’d break my dick off, yet you’re so wet already. Which one is it?”  

Don’t fall for it, he’ll hurt you again, just like before! But god…sometimes pain felt so good. You moaned at his touch, spreading your legs a little to give him easier access. There was eagerness to his movements, hastily moving your parties to the side, rubbing your slick all over his fingers. His grunts and groan were like music to your ears, you moaned as he rubbed at your clit, the once foreign feeling returning. It was good, too good…this was not good. You pushed him off, your eyes going wide. Jungkook seemed to be confused, watching as you pulled your sweater over your head, moving your panties back into place and walking out of his office. As you walked through the parlour, you saw the woman, the same woman from the last week. God, you’d fallen into the rabbit hole again.  

*** 

Lindsay’s eyes were wide, staring at you like you’d just told her you killed a kid. “You let him do what now?!” She yelled at you, placing down her phone. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking! It happened like there was nothing in the past! God, I’m such an idiot!” You pulled at your hair, pacing around the living room. 

“Oh my god, Y/N! What did I tell you? You need dick! You need to get your mind off of that prick! That’s it, we’re going to the club and you’re gonna find the hottest man there and fuck the shit out of him.” Lindsay seemed so certain about this plan, she grabbed your hand and dragged you to her room.  

Mistakes were meant to be learned from. Once you made them, don’t make them again. But with him, it was inevitable, it was out of your control. You warned yourself before to not deal with the devil because you will get burned, but what happens when the devil is in the form of a muscular, tattooed and hot man? You’ll get burned a thousand times before you learn.

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