#but then she started to get really excited when i told her about how ive been using it to help manage stress n shit
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Art therapy is so fun because today I just drew pathologic fanart, and my therapist was like, "Awesome, so tell me about it"
#pathologic 2#pathologic#artemy burakh#мор утопия#my post#art therapy#i spent a couple hours playing on my birthday recently and it just made me so happy#i had to explain to my therapist what the game was#at first she was like “are you sure you should be playing that?”#but then she started to get really excited when i told her about how ive been using it to help manage stress n shit#plus hyperfixation mode activated#my stress tolerance and ability to break down tasks has improved so much because of this game#its literally my favourite#sobbing crying#did i mention i love this game?#anyway she said it was very insightful and im so happy because all i had to do was be autistic for half a session#also no. you may not see the image#i didn’t have a reference so its off model lmaooo#may redo the concept on digital ::3
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I want to spread a rumor about Emil cheating, make sure nobody knows it was me, then act all mad at him and punish him for it
Also ygs better square up Cherros anon and Jerry anon
-🐕🦺
ive been craving to hurt emil. rofan villain reader my beloved, a cute husband to bully and all his money 🥰
cw;; abuse, cheating, non-con (implied), gaslighting, angst
the nobles always talk, talk, talk. it's not odd for them to spread meaningless gossip. it's odd when unsubstantiated gossip makes it into the most popular newspaper in the capital and becomes the headline on everyone's lips. that took your whole allowance at the information guild but it was worth it to see your husband's face now.
the pictures were the best touch, you really should thank the guild master later. undeniable evidence of emil being intimate with one of his maids was sitting in front of him on the desk. his advisor was cautiously scolding him for ruining his reputation that he had just started to build up. the image of loving husband dashed in an instant. he started to raise his voice his hand pounding on the table in anger. that was your cue.
you threw the door of the office open with force.
"emil! are you going to explain yourself? why are all my maids talking about you ch-"
your eyes caught the images, you hadn't actually seen them yet. god they were good, they made you actually feel a bit sick to see. perfect.
".... what is that?"
you watch his face drop as all his anger melts into panic. poor bastard tries to cover up the images.
"this doesn't concern you."
"... you're fucking one of your maids?"
the accusation burns his heart and he feels like he's going to be sick. he tries to cover the images more.
"this doesn't-" thwack!
you slap him across the face as hard as you can, your wedding ring leaving an imprint on his cheek.
"everyone get out. i need to speak to my husband privately."
his servants and advisors scurried out of there, afraid of the situation about to play out, only your right hand maid stayed. she closed the behind the last person to leave, locking it for you. you let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against his desk, your hand rubbing your temples. emil didn't look up, his eyes wide but you could see there was fear in them even with his head hung.
you picked up one of the pictures, one where the maid was clearly caught in the middle of having sex with him. you'd been out of the capital a few weeks ago for an event in your home kingdom. really it was just an excuse to let the guild master do what he needed. he really exceeded your expectations. it was hard not to smile.
"i don't remember doing that, please believe me."
"oh?" you set the picture down and shot him a glare. "just because you don't remember fucking her i should forgive you? what about kissing her? what about pushing her against the window behind you?"
"i-"
he watched helplessly as you picked up one of the pictures, your hand shaking. oh, when you got your hands on the royal treasury you were going to drown the guild master in gold. you had told him about emil's hatred for letting you leave the palace grounds, how emil wouldn't even take you to the cafe you so desperately wanted to go to. and here was a picture of him in the same cafe with the maid.
"what is this?"
"i-i don't know."
you forced your face to scrunch up in anger despite how excited you were. you were going to enjoy this too much. you turned to your maid who was still standing by the door.
"do you have my riding crop?"
"yes, your highness." she presented it to you and you handed her the picture of him at the cafe in exchange.
"what would you do if you were in my position?"
"i would ask for a divorce, your highness."
"no-"
emil's poor voice cracked but all he got was another glare.
"then I suppose I'm being merciful, right?"
"you are far too kind to that cheating filth, your highness."
you walked over to stand beside emil who already looked so broken and frightened. you ran your riding crop up his cheek.
"take your shirt off. unless you would rather the divorce?"
emil's body slipped to the ground as his knees gave out underneath him. tears started to stream from his eyes like the dam had finally broken.
"please, dont leave me, please, please."
you nudged him with the riding crop.
"shirt. off."
his hands were shaking as he started to unbutton his shirt.
#replies#yandere king#🐕🦺 anon#sub yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere oc#male reader#top male reader#yandere x reader
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— 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 ♡
synopsis: oh no! what is a cursed spirit supposed to do when he gains interest in a mortal girl? probably not make sex dolls of her, kidnap her, then fuck her until she breaks. but no one told him that!
𖦹₊┆ mahito x fem! reader
𖦹₊┆ wc: 4.5k
𖦹₊┆ warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, mahito is gross, referring to the sex doll as if it was a real person
𖦹₊┆ notes: the fic ive been writing on and off for a month… she is my baby… i have birthed her. please please please read the warnings and enjoy <33 kms if this doesn’t show up in tags
18+ → minors / blank blogs dni
Creak.
Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your safe haven.
Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.
Bang.
His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.
“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.
You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. Practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was slurred, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. So. . . so crazy.
You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself even though your hands were shaking.
You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.
How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.
It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.
You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.
He said you taste delicious.
It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.
The way you could tell that he craved more.
Craved everything you had to give.
You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.
Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.
Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.
You learned that that night.
He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.
His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monser that just got his kill.
He had.
He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanor changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.
“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.
You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.
Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.
But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.
He loves that smell.
If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.
He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.
Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.
You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.
Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Kenjaku told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!
You are already better than he ever imagined!
Bang.
The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!
He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.
The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.
“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defense but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.
You want to scream.
He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.
He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you.
“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.
Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.
How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.
“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are hard to understand…And I really just can’t wait for you any longer.”
You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.
How deep whatever he feels for you runs.
You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it color. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.
You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.
You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.
You can do this. You can do this.
The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.
Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.
Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.
Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.
You land flat on your face.
Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.
A stitched hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks disheveled. Crazed.
He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.
“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”
You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.
“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”
He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”
The simple statement makes your blood run cold.
“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”
You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.
Exactly how he wants it– wants you.
You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”
His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~ ♡”
All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.
He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.
“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.
Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to scilence.
“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”
The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.
“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”
His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just!
“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.
His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—
Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?
He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.
Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savor this… who knows when you might come around again?
Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.
Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.
You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when you’re head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.
He likes you.
He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.
Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.
He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.
The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.
“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.
He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.
You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.
You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.
“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.
“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, loosing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.
You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.
He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.
“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary. Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.
Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”
He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.
Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.
Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.
Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.
A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.
Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re full. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.
He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.
He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”
He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your hole before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.
He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.
He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.
“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”
Right. Cause this is forever. ♡
#mahito x reader#jjk mahito#jujutsu mahito#mahito#mahito smut#mahito x you#mahito imagines#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#tw noncon#tw kidnapping#tw dark content#tw mindbreak#tw fear play#📂 ; ✰ https:// jjk#📂 ; ✰ https:// mahito
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Shadows are to protect I
Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader
shadows are to protect II, III, IV
summary~ You just moved to Arsenal and everything was unknown to you but now you had Alessia. Your situationship with Alessia was everything but perfect but at least she was there, sometimes.
this is pure angst
Alessia is your whole heart. You could tell her that a thousand times and she still wouldn’t leave her boyfriend.
He doesn’t even get her, not like you do. He doesn’t appreciate her like you do. It should be you holding her hand on the streets. It should be you kissing her in the bars of London.
You didn’t really know when you started to feel that way. You’d just moved to England, a very scary move from your comfortable and warm Spain. Spain and Barcelona was all you’ve even known. Expending your world was just as terrifying as you’d ever believed.
The welcome was cold, very cold. It was the completely opposite of what you were used to, it was quite literally what you were petrified of. You left the warm sun kissing the dark little freckles on your face and exchanged the English rain dropping down on your hair. You weren’t even sure what to call it, not in English and not in Spanish either.
But even now you weren’t sure if you’d go back and stay in Barcelona. The sun might shine there most hours of the working days but you’d always be in the shadows. In the shadows of La Reina, Alexia Putellas, your sister.
The two coloured club had offered you a contract extension where you’d get paid twice the amount you did last year. You’d driven to the club like you did most days but this time you had one thing in mind, or so you thought. Signing for another three years and being the average defender in the team for whenever one of the original starters couldn’t participate.
A red and blue pen rested between your thumb and point fingers as you listened to your manager talk about the future. But most of it fell to deaf ears. “Alexia and you would be the head of the Champions League campaign. Imagine this, the Putellas hermanas on top of Europe.” he said full excitement. It wasn’t the whole campaign that set you off but how he began his sentence, ‘Alexia and you’.
You were sitting here, ready to sign your contract, for your future. They wanted you to sign and still their first thought was Alexia.
Without saying a word you stormed off. You were not doing this again for three more years.
You had spiked interest from multiple clubs, not only Europe but America too. But when Arsenal let your agency know that they wanted you, you knew that that was it. From now on you’ll be a gunner, through and through.
You got picked up from the Airport. With a sign reading ‘Putellas’. It felt good. They didn’t have to clarify which Putellas sister they were picking up, there was only one in London now, you. The bigger man, he might’ve even be twice the height of you introduced himself. And with the little English you had in store you thanked him and told him your name.
The man you now knew as Keith was a simple man. He opened the door for you and didn’t say much. You liked it that way, the silence was fine by you. You liked that the intimidating car you were sat in had tinted windows. Not so you couldn’t be seen but because it gave you some sort of comfort. When you were younger and Alexia was a rising star she had you sit in the backseat, where nobody could see you and where you’d be safe she’d say.
The little droplets of rain were doing races and you had lost for about the twentieth time when the car came to a stop. Keith grumbled something about being there and got out. You didn’t really know what to do and what they expected of you so you opened the car door. Picking your bags up you placed your right foot outside and your left followed.
It all went too fast, Jonas showed almost all the rooms in the building and the wet pitches that were not in any state to be used. You had to film a few shots for your signing announcement, get through a few medical test and finally got to go home.
Keith drove you to your temporary apartment just a few minutes away from the training ground. You had a streak of almost one hundred days of English on Duolingo so you thanked the tall man in the few words you had learned to say and got out of the black Range Rover.
You were home. You were home, you kept repeating those words but you didn’t believe it. You were home.
This is it now. North London is your new home.
The appartement was empty except for the blank furniture, it had no personality and it was hard to think there ever would be. Four white walls, a grey couch, a black kitchen and an all white bed in the middle of your bedroom. They didn’t even tell you that the kitchen would be just as empty as the apartment.
The sound of a notification alarmed you out of your emotionless state. You forgot to put your phone on do not disturb. ‘Where are you?’ it read. Alexia knew you didn’t sign for Barca the day before but she didn’t know you’d be gone by the morning. Tapping on the do not disturb mode you traveled to your all white bed.
And that is how it went, do not disturb mode on. You we there, at the training ground and the games but not really there. You weren’t in the right mindset to talk to anyone yet and that’s why it was so goddamn frustrating when McCabe or Mead tried to get you to talk.
You sat alone at lunch, didn’t go out with your teammates and barely stayed in contact with your sister. That was until Alessia Russo came into your life.
You didn’t mean to let her in. You decided early on that you were at Arsenal for your career and career only. But she changed that, so quick. And before you knew it you were falling for her.
She came into Arsenal and everyone was a fan of her. It seemed like she was friends with everyone instantly and it made you curious.
Alessia had been a gunner for almost a week when you realised she lived across from your apartment. She came knocking on your door one evening, offering you some of het pasta since she had made too much. You knew that she’d been searching for an opportunity to get you to talk to her but you didn’t expect her to come knocking at your door like that.
You let her in and she started to talk to you. You couldn’t exactly call it a conversation since she did all the talking and you muttered out some broken English once in a while. But even though you hated to admit it, she was nice company. It made you feel less lonely, she made you feel less empty.
You’d told Alexia about your move to Arsenal before it officially came out and she wasn’t pleased, at all. She was mad, mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You told her what had happened and what was racing through your mind when you made the decision but she just couldn’t fathom out the thought of you feeling that way. And that made you feel even less understood, it felt like your life was slipping away from you and you only made it worse with every next move you made.
But Alessia made you feel like you were okay for a moment. After the first day of eating together she offered you food almost everyday and after a month it became a tradition, you would diner together every single day and she even learned you English. You didn’t really progress in your Duolingo streak and didn’t talk much either so the help was very much needed.
It wasn’t until the first half of the season had been played that you realised you had other feelings for her. You saw her as more than just a friend. It was all going very fast and the feelings intensified by the day, that may be because she was the only one you really could talk to. It hurt you to even think about living without her and that might’ve the first warning you should’ve seen but you didn’t.
It was Alessia who kissed you first. You both had been drinking and the two empty bottles of red wine next to your grey couch were the evidence of that. Alessia was a touchy person, just like everyone in Spain so you didn’t mind. She was giggly and teasing you relentlessly.
“I bet you think about me hmm?” she hummed and started to climb on top of you. Taken aback by the movement you didn’t really react to anything she had just said. “I want to kiss you.” she whispered into your ear that was tinted red by now. You didn’t answer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay.” she leaned in, placing her pink lips on your red ones. It was sweet but turned desperate very quickly.
The blonde slept sweetly beside you that evening. The thoughts raced through your mind and none of them were making any sense. It was hard to think straight with Alessia next to you, that was what made things so complicated. But now that she was laying in your bed you couldn’t not have her there, you needed her.
Alessia started to stay over more and more, it became your new normal. Half of her closet was laying in yours and she even brought her favourite mug with her. You bought all her favourite foods so she would feel comfortable and she appreciated it, just not enough to stay with you.
You came home on a Thursday evening one day but Alessia was nowhere to be found. Normally she would be laying on your couch, watching some sappy Netflix show you refused to watch with her. A bowl of nuts in her hands she didn’t really like but it was a healthy snack so it would do. But the only thing you found on your couch was her blue hoodie. Well it was yours originally but she basically claimed it as hers now.
Putting your cold groceries away you walked towards Alessia’s front door. She had given you her spare key after leaving hers in her home, locking herself out for the second time. She had bought a keychain with it, a little Barca jersey with your name and number on it. You smiled down at the colourful jersey and opened the door.
Walking in you heard some laughter coming from the living room that you could describe in detail. It was a light living room with two big windows that were open at all times, she liked it that way. She bought a brown couch after you broke her beige one. You had gifted her a few plants to make the room a real living space but knew she didn’t really care for them so you’d come in and give them water.
The photo’s in her hallway were those of her mom, dad and brothers, who she adored so much. And even though she didn’t like to have pictures of herself in her home she had one of her and her best friend Ella after winning the Euros.
When you stepped into the living area you were a bit taken aback by the man sitting next to your Alessia. His left hand was draped over her shoulder, like it was the most normal thing. His right was resting on her thigh. Who was he?
You stood still, watching the pair until Alessia noticed you. Her eyes had gone wide. “Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked carefully. You didn’t answer. “Luke, this is my teammate, and well, this is my boyfriend Luke.” she introduced you and stalked towards your frozen form.
Boyfriend? You thought..
Alessia gave her boyfriend some weak excuse and walked you back to your apartment. You were in your own home again, a safe place. When Alessia started to talk again you cut her off. “I- you have a boyfriend? I thought we had.. something?” you looked almost lost to her. “Well, you thought wrong. Whatever you thought we had, we didn’t.” she said without any emotion behind her eyes, like she hadn’t spent the whole of last week in your house, in your bed, wearing your hoodie.
She left your house like nothing had happened.
Were you really that stupid, did you really think she’d like you. You had created this whole other reality, one where she’d actually like you and wanted to be with you.
You kept to yourself even more now. Alessia had gotten you out of your shell to some extent but now you had crawled back in again. Every moment you weren’t training or playing football you were at home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It wasn’t as empty as it was when it arrived but it felt like it. The life had gone away and that’s not something you can fix with a few overpriced paintings and some weird cactus.
You couldn’t eat dinner without Alessia, you couldn’t watch horrible movies without Alessia and you just couldn’t sleep in a bed without Alessia.
It was the one time you decided to go out and drink that she came over to talk to you again. She acted like nothing had ever happend, like it was back to normal again, like she had slept in your bed the day before. But you liked it, craved it even. You had longed for Alessia to come back again and save you from yourself.
So she ended up in your bed and stayed long enough for you to fall asleep. But not long enough for you to wake up to her scent or her sleepy blue eyes and messy blonde hair.
It went on like that, she came home with you for the night and you forgot about all the things she had done to you and you woke up to an empty bed. You did feel bad for the Luke guy, well you did in the beginning but somewhere along the way you started to lose that sympathy.
You were mad. Angry. He could drive her to training and hold her hand out in public. He could kiss her on the streets and wake up to her snuggled next to him. He could have all those domestic little moments and gestures you longed for. It wasn’t fair.
Alessia had prepared dinner for the both of you and you were watching a movie when you felt the need to talk to her about this whole situation. “Lessi, i really like you. I want you and i to be together because i love you.” there, you said it. Alessia didn’t look at you, she stared blankly at the movie infront of her. You reached for the distraction playing on the television and paused it but she still wouldn’t look you in the eyes.
“I love you.” you repeated again, hoping for a response. She sighed, “Look, i don’t know what you think we are but we aren’t that. I don’t know how many times i have to tell you this but i have a boyfriend and you’re just there for a quick fuck. That’s all. You’re not special just because your sister has won a few trophies. I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re fucking lonely but leave me out of it.” she hissed.
You just said you loved her, for the first time. You handed her your fucking heart and she stomped on it like it was nothing. Alesia knew your relationship with your sister was complicated and being in her shadows was something that hurt you the most in this world, but yet she brought it up. You’d told her everything you never dared to say out loud and she used it to damage you even more. She is your whole world but to her you’re a ‘quick fuck’.
You were hers but she’d never be yours
“Please go away.” you asked her, tears threatening to escape your tired glossy eyes.
You were left alone in your apartment and the loneliness was more torturous than ever. The fucking lasagna Alessia had made you had turned cold and you looked at the wooden table infront of you. There was a picture of you and Alexia framed, Alessia had printed it out to make you feel more like home but it only made you miss it more, especially now.
Looking at your phone you opened your chat with your sister. You hadn’t texted her in about a month, the last text being about your mothers birthday that you couldn’t attend.
You needed her, you needed you sister to protect you. You needed her to protect you from the sun and to place you in her shadows again. For once it was all you desired.
A/N let me know what you think of the fic!! Also, i don’t know if i should write a second part and if or how i should end up Alessia and R together. I could make R fall in love with someone else too??
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#engwnt#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#arsenalwomen#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#arsenalwfc x reader#barca femeni#barcelona femeni#barca women#angst#shadows are to protect
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Telling off Mineta
|Izuku Midoriya|Katsuki Bakugo|Shoto Todoroki|Fluff|Female reader|
It was a training day. Everyone was excited to finally be able to use their quirks after long boring classes, being able to burn off some energy. Everyone was in the changing rooms getting ready and changing into their hero costumes. Making small talk with each other wondering about what exercise Aizawa and All Might would make them do.
“I hope we get paired up today Iida. Ive been working on my powers and I want to see how well it would measure up to your super move!” Midoriya slide on his suit while thinking about how exactly he would use his shoot style and ways he could improve it.
“Youve been practicing well Midoriya, but your not the only one. Everyone has gotten stronger” Iida said tying up his shoes tight. It would be horrible if he used his quirk and he ended up tripping.
Midoriya turning to grab something overhears Mineta spouting on about someone. Midoriya has learned to ignore Mineta's antics until he heard who exactly he was spouting about. You.
Even though you didn't even attend UA that didn't keep you safe from Mineta's perverted antics.
“You’ve seen Y/N right? I hope she comes to visit UA again. The skirts at her school are so short. Mmm~ I just want to-” His speech came to a sudden halt when he felt a deadly grip on his shoulders. Glancing up he saw Midoriya with a...smile? “Mineta ...do you mind not talking about Y/N like that? I dont think its really appropriate to do so” Even though Midoryas face seemed warm his tone and grip on Mineta's shoulder told a completely different story.
Mineta sucked in a breath “Y-Yeah of course. It was just a joke” His choice of word just agitated Midoryia more. “Yeah? Well the next time you decided to “Joke” about Y/N we will have a problem.” Mineta nodded his head quickly and Midoriya went back to Iida.
“You know what Iida. I wouldn't mind Mineta being my partner today either” He slammed his locker shut walking off.
“What happened to Midoriyas locker?” Kirishima asked Iida looking at the door hanging off a single hinge. “Mineta” Iida simply said closing his and heading out to join the rest of the class.
Everyone had settled in the cafeteria. Students bustling, utensils clattering, the mumbled tones of food-stuffed voices, it was utterly annoying to him. It's not the fact that it was loud, heck he could be louder than anyone in there. It was the catastrophe sound of it altogether.
“...it was so cool to see! I have to train 100x harder to be on their level!” Baukgo was with his usual group. Kirishima was telling some story of a Hero he saw that morning. He wasn't fully listening only picking up on parts here and there. “Dude you train all the time. You train just as hard not if harder than everyone else here” Denki responded. “Yeah man, you will reach the Hero level sooner than you know it” Sero chimed in.
Bakugo was mostly in his own head. Thinking about training today school work and other things, but something pulled him out of his thoughts. Someone. A voice stood out to him, an annoying one at that. Bakugos sudden grown snapped Kirishima out of his story. “What's wrong man? What-” Bakugo instantly stood from the table hands slapping down and shaking it.
Hands in his pocket he walks up to him. “So I was thinking me and you could you know...” Mineta's hand reaches out to you but before it makes contact a shadow looms over him. Mineta looks up behind him. Bakugos eyes were narrow and livid “What were you trying to do with my girl you fucking pervert” His voice was low and dangerous. “Katsuki...” you said calmly. He clasps his hands on Mineta's shoulder his hands starting to spark.
Mineta froze in place “Answer me when I ask you something shit face!” Burn marks starting to form on Mineta's shirt “OW! OW! N-NOTHING, I WASN'T TRYING TO DO ANYTHING” A sinister smirk came up on Bakugos face “You better pray we aren't paired up together for training. You won't live through it” He says letting go and walking towards you. “He didn't touch your right?” He asked you still slightly pissed off. You shook your head giving him a reassuring smile and placing a hand on his arm.
“I'm fine Katsuki. Thank you.” He smirks grabbing you and kissing you deeply so Mineta and everyone else knows that you are his and his only. Mineta kept his fat mouth shut for the rest of the day but was unlucky during the training session. He was with Recovery Girl for the next 2 days.
It was pretty quiet in the classroom. Mostly hushed voices and paper rustling. Everyone was just waiting for Aizawa to roll into class. Todoroki was just reviewing notes with you until you stepped out to use the bathroom.
Todoroki continued to review notes on his own until he could have sworn he heard your name. He glanced around the classroom looking until, there. He spotted Mineta talking to Kaminari and Sero in the back of the classroom. Gesturing towards the door you just walked out of with that gross look on his face that made Todoroki shrivel up in disgust.
“Did you see the way her legs looked? They're so slender and sexy”
“Bro I don't think you should-”
“And her bust! Oh man I was Y/N to just-”
An ice crystal soon shadowed the room. Mineta is displayed inside. “I strongly suggest you keep your perverse topic of conversation away from Y/N and all the other girls in class”
Todoroki said towards Mineta's frozen body before swiftly returning to his notes. “All right everyon-” Aizawa halted seeing the large spear of ice. Glancing towards Todoroki who innocently carries on with his studies. “What happened here?” He questioned everyone pointing at you as you coincidentally walk in. You stand there confused seeing an ice block and fingers pointed towards you slowly putting together what had happened.
#mha#bnha#shoto todoroki#todoroki shoto#shoto#todoroki#mha todoroki#bnha todoroki#shoto todoroki x you#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x y/n#bakugo#katsuki#bakugo katuski#katuski bakugo#todoroki x reader#shoto x reader#bnha bakugo x reader#mha bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katuski bakugo x you#reader#reader insert#deku#izuku#izuku midoriya#midoriya izuku#mha izuku#mha deku
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THE CYBORG WHO STOLE MY HEART (Bucky X F!reader)
A/N: I know I know, there's another Bucky fanfic that I'm already working on and yet here I am starting a whole new one. Why you ask? Because I'm a dumbass. The idea just popped up into my head and I HAD TO write it down. Hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1 :
Chapter summary: Bucky and Sam come across a woman who seems to have lost her mind. Literally. Using Bucky’s cyborg brain, they try to figure out who she is.
Chapter warnings: Mild swearing.
You know when you're having a great dream with a hot guy that could only possibly exist in dreams ? The happiness that breathing the same air as him brings you? That's what you were feeling right now.
Eyes as blue as the ocean, veins that were easy to put an IV in and that black shirt phew. Was it possible to drool in dreams? You were going to have a great day once you woke up. That was for sure.
Why was he looking at you like that though? Weren't they supposed to be flirting with you or puckering their lips in your dreams by now? Was this supposed to be a slow burn or enemies to lovers genre dream?
"Why is she staring at me like that?" the hot guy asks the air next to him.
"She's just coming into it, give her a second." it responds back to him.
Wait, what ?
"Are we sure she's alright and not having an absence seizure?" the air voice asks.
"She's alright. Probably in shock." another voice responds.
Shock? From seeing that beautiful man in front of me? Sure.
Okay, focus.
Wait, it's a dream. Why do you need to focus?
Eyes, the colour of piss , come into focus. "Cannn youuu hearrr meee?"
"Why are you speaking like that?" you manage to ask, still trying to figure out if you'd accidentally taken shrooms.
"Not a seizure then." the voice from earlier comments.
Piss eyes looks proud of himself. "I told you, she's in shock."
If this really was a dream, it would have to be the strangest one you have had in a while. What in the actual cockfuck was happening?
"Youu areee in theee hosp-ee-taalll. Weee---" piss eyes sounded like he was having the seizure.
"Stop talking like that." you say, blinking rapidly to clear the dark spots from your eyes. Things were starting to feel more...real. A heaviness settled over your head, every breath seemed to send a slight sliver of pain through your side and your arm felt numb.
Dreams weren't usually ultra-realistic, were they? Only one way to find out now.
"Is she...pinching herself?" hot guy asks, that strange look on his face.
A set of cold hands clamp your hands down.
"HEY." you say, the slight sting of your pinch confirming your doubts.
"Self hurt or mutilation can be a side effect. We need to restrain her for her own safety." Piss eyes speaks rapidly and you hear him muttering to himself.
"I'm not...is this not a dream?" you finally ask leaving the room in pin drop silence.
"I don't think so...unless Wanda is upto something again." air voice sounds a bit unsure himself.
"Wanda?" the name seemed familiar but in this state , you could barely remember your own name.
You try to get up only to be gently pushed back down by piss eyes. "You probably shouldn't be doing that. Bed rest for the next 10 days, I'm afraid." he says not sounding apologetic about it at all.
"What even happened? And---" you're cut off by air voice.
"Where are you? Well, the Avengers compound. Now, don't get too excited and all. We can make you sign a NDA , but we aren't going to because we're hoping you're trustworthy. Stark said you might be...useful. Now, if you're feeling upto it, how the hell did you end up in the middle of a cemetry half dead?"
You blinked once, twice, thrice.
"Who is Stark?"
"Listen, man. She's got to be living under a rock if she doesn't know who Stark is. That guy has been stuffed down everyone's fucking throat." Sam tells Bucky as he takes off he looks at their new visitor.
Bucky doesn't respond and instead stares at Sam with a poker face.
"What's going on in that cyborg brain of yours?" Sam isn't phased by Bucky and his staring anymore. He was however very sure that Bucky would not be bringing home any ladies with that serial killer look.
"What if she's lying?" Bucky finally says, turning to look at the CCTV recording of the room you were in. You were sleeping again, knocked out by the pain killers.
"Lying about not knowing Stark or not being able to remember what happened to her?"
"Both."
"What purpose does that serve her?"
"Well, that's what we're supposed to find out."
“How exactly are you planning on doing that?” Crossing his arms over his chest , Sam raised an eyebrow at his cyborg friend.
“I’ll think about it.” Bucky walked past him, grabbing his jacket on the way. “With my cyborg brain.”
“I understand that you want to get some answers” you said for what seemed like the 100th time, exasperation taking hold of you. “I honestly cannot remember what happened. I’ve thought myself into a headache. I’m sorry, okay?”
Sam looked defeated as he let he shook his head. “It’s been two whole days. Now, I don’t want to seem like a dick and question you in this state but we need some goddamn answers.”
“Too late for that I guess.” you muttered under your breath.
“Huh?”
“She said ‘too late for that I guess.’” The hot guy, Bucky, was his name chimed in.
How the hell did he hear that? As if reading the question on your face, he simply said “Advanced hearing.”
Okkayyyy.
Sam on the other hand was giving you a flat look. You gave him one back.
“I’m feeling much better now. Can I atleast get out of this damn bed?” you scratched near the iv line, wanting to just rip it out. “Piss eyes told me I shouldn’t but I cannot stay like this.”
“Piss eyes?” Sam was clearly running out of patience.
“The doc. Is he even a doctor? He’s very…”
“Sort of.”
That explains it.
“She’s right.” Bucky takes a step forward, looking at Sam. “Walking around will help her recover faster.”
“THANK YOU. See , I knew you were the smart one.” you give him a wide smile to which you get a poker face in return. Embarrassing. Not letting it deter you, you pull the iv out.
“Hey !!” Sam steps forward, surprised at your show of stupidity.
Before he can reach you to help you out of bed, you’ve already stood up. Which was another stupid move considering that the entire room was spinning around. Holding on to the wall next to you for support, you blinked rapidly.
“That’s another concussion waiting to happen.” Bucky commented dryly.
After regaining some semblance of direction, you managed to stand up straight ignoring the slight stab of pain in your chest.
“Much better.” you say, taking a step forward. The pastel pink tee and pants that had been given to you did not compliment your current condition, you knew. To be quite frank, you were a good looking woman too. Always have been. Then why the hell was Bucky looking at you like he was going to stab you right then and there?
“Uhhh…now what?” your suddenly felt extremely awkward in front of the two men.
“Don’t ask me, you were the one who wanted to do this.” Sam still had an arm out, ready to jump into action in case you cracked your head on the tiles again. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Bucky make a slight movement. Thank fuck you did because the next thing you knew , you were holding a dagger 2 inches away from your chest by the handle.
Silence engulfed the room for a good 20 seconds before it was broken by a very calm “What. The. Fuck.” from Sam.
You looked at Bucky who stood in the same spot like nothing shocking had even happened. Finally a crack of a smile appeared on his face.
“Told you she was lying.”
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader
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so.... ive read your izuku fanfic and damn they were sooo good i wanna cry t__t anywaaaays, idk if ur requests are open or nah so can i request puppy persona!m!reader x timeskip sakusa kiyoomi from haikyuu, whereas reader is sakusa's s/o and when sakusa publishes reader as his s/o on his insta (he posts their pic tgt) someone's commenting bad about reader and he saw it, what happens next is up to you :DDD stay healthy xoxo
ఌ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈
❝ 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙? ❞
꧁ 𝙆𝙞𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙢𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Word count › 1.9k
Rating › SFW
Warnings › minor homophobia
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
Kiyoomi felt great. His team had just won a game and they were close to getting a spot in the semi finals. Pulling up his mask, he swiftly left the locker room, aiming the just shower at home. Still, even as he grew up, crowds bothered him.
Most of his fans seemed to get the message by now as they mostly stayed at least five feet away from him. Though it took some screaming from his manager.
“You did so good, Sakusa!!” A girl screamed.
Kiyoomi simply gave her a curt nod, walking over to the car that his manager drove. He swore he could hear a loud shriek and then a thud.
Weirdos.
The drove home took longer as his manager made sure to take a long route so that no one would follow him. Kiyoomi wasn’t even sure why some fans wanted to know where he lived. He wasn’t going to invite them inside, are they stupid?
“Thanks.” Kiyoomi’s word was muffled but his manager gave him a thumbs up.
He got inside his apartment complex and punched in the code to his door—ready to get attacked by his overly excited boyfriend.
Which he was.
Kiyoomi being the taller one, and used to this, he easily caught his boyfriend and walked inside as if this was a normal thing. It technically was. He wasn’t sure if he hated it or loved it but he hasn’t asked (Name) to stop so it was borderline tolerable at the least.
“How was the game?” (Name) asked, wrapping his legs around Kiyoomi waist as he shuffled around to take off his mask and shoes.
“I’m sweaty.”
“So?”
“I wanna bathe.”
(Name) smirked. “With me?”
Kiyoomi pushed him off, with just enough force to not actually hurt him. “Absolutely not. I’m tired.”
(Name) whined as he watched his boyfriend go off to their bedroom to take a bath. He pouted to himself as he went into the kitchen to take out Kiyoomi’s dish of curry.
The two of them had met by chance, really. (Name) wasn’t into volleyball. In reality, he hated sports in general. He had gone to Karasuno so it’s a shock they had even met. It was honestly by luck when Kiyoomi went on a dating app under a fake name and ended up matching with him.
It was a bit rocky at the start. Their vastly different personalities caused some clashes in the relationship. But it was better now, except (Name) had a problem.
He wanted people to know that they were dating. But he knew why Kiyoomi didn’t tell his fans or anyone that wasn’t his family.
Some fangirls had… problems with their faves dating. (Name) was always confused by this. Kiyoomi wasn’t an idol or anything. He was a volleyball player—who really thought they had a chance with him?
Well, he randomly got a chance with him…
(Name) brushed the thought away. He should be glad that Kiyoomi even told his parents about him. It was about a few minutes later when Kiyoomi joined him in the kitchen dressed in some pyjama bottoms. (Name) smirked at him, a playful look in his eyes as he looked him up and down.
“No.”
“I didn’t even say anything.” (Name) pouted, handing him the bowl of curry.
“Didn’t have to.”
ꕤ
Kiyoomi yawned as he laid down in bed, ready to sleep for over 12 hours after such a harsh game when his phone rang. He cursed as he reached over and answered it, knowing it was his manager.
She’s the only one who’d dare to call him after a big game.
“Sakusa! Sorry to bother you but you forgot to post a picture today!” She yelled, causing him to wince.
It was a tradition that his manager came up with. After any game, especially if he won, to post a picture of him thanking anyone who came to the game. It was nice in theory because it made his account seem alive when he only posted like twice a year before this tradition.
It also helped him go viral to gain no fans. But they weren’t really the fans he liked. They were the fans that liked him for his looks—not his skills as a player. He hated it but hey, ticket sales were higher each next game when he did this.
Besides, his true fans seemed to also like the rare photos he did. Might as well reward them.
“Alright,” he said before hanging up.
A shirtless picture with only his lamp to illuminate him would certainly gain more attention then his usual covered up ones. He was in a semi good mood away. Kiyoomi positioned his phone upward to get mostly his face and bare shoulders, showing that he was indeed shirtless.
He hit post and quickly went to sleep
What he didn’t know was that he forgot to angle (Name) out of the picture. (Name) was already asleep on the bed, facing towards Kiyoomi so his full face was in the photo.
Anyone with eyes could tell he wasn’t a friend he’s ever posted before and that (Name) was shirtless as well.
Yeah, Kiyoomi (really his manager) was screwed in the morning.
ꕤ
(Name) woke up to Kiyoomi pressing a kiss on his neck before leaving for his workout of the day. He stayed in bed for a while before getting out, checking his phone for his account on social media. (Name) wasn’t famous by any means but he did have a decent 10k followers for just posting pictures of himself.
He knew it was mainly people who thought he was cute but he didn’t mind. So many of his comments said he was like a puppy, looks and personality wise. He kinda led into it by this point—jokingly wearing dog ears in some pictures that his fans and friends loved.
To anyone else, it’d look a bit weird but he didn’t care.
(Name) frowned when he saw the amount of notifications he got.
Weird, he usually didn’t get this much unless he posted something but he hasn’t in at least a week or two. He checked them out and he felt scared. The comments that mentioned his username was talking about him being a weirdo.
And it was Kiyoomi’s fans. Their icons almost all had his face in it.
(Name) checked Kiyoomi’s account and cursed when he saw the recent picture he posted last name. There he was in the background. If there wasn’t anyone practically attacking him right now, he’d say how handsome and sexy his boyfriend is but he couldn’t.
Was this what his fans felt?
Was he really that ugly?
He shouldn’t have but he did. (Name) spent almost an hour just looking at all of the comments on Kiyoomi’s post and his own account. A few people were fighting back against the obsessed fans—stating how creepy they were acting.
But it was like fighting against the ocean. It was too much. So many kept saying that he must’ve corrupted Kiyoomi into being a homosexual.
Wow, Kiyoomi was right to hide their relationship.
“(Name)?”
Kiyoomi was in the bedroom suddenly. When did he get there? (Name) felt Kiyoomi wipe away his tears, a small frown on his lips. When did he start crying?
“What happened?”
(Name) opened his mouth but only a sob came out and his tackled Kiyoomi into a hug. He cried his heart out, not caring at how sweaty Kiyoomi was. Large arms held him tight, as Kiyoomi didn’t ask any questions. He just allowed him to cry out.
It wasn’t until Kiyoomi’s phone rang that he pulled away, pressing a kiss on (Name)’s forehead. He reached over for his phone on the nightstand. He never took his phone with him on workouts.
He just never saw the point in it. There was numerous miss calls from a few of his teammates and his manager. He called back his manager, Miss Watanabe, pulling (Name) back into his arms for some cuddling that he gladly returned.
“Hello?”
“Sakusa!! Finally, shit! If you wanted to come out you should’ve told me! We could’ve done it in a more less surprising way!” She cursed, sounding weirdly stressed out.
“I haven’t come out… What are you talking about?”
“The picture…” It was silent. “Oh no, Sakusa, was it by accident?! Shit, shit. It’s too late to delete. Oh god.”
Kiyoomi put Ms. Watanabe on speaker and checked his account, seeing his picture certainly did went viral.
And for all the wrong reason. He saw every comment that bashed (Name) and even checked his account to see them calling him a freak for wearing dog ears. Kiyoomi was angry.
He wanted so desperately to just make them vanish out of thin air (kill them) but he knew he had to make sure (Name) was alright.
“There’s a fan meet next week before the big game… I’ll come up with a speech for you to talk about it!”
“Why would I need a speech? I’ll just saw he’s my boyfriend.”
“Uh, are you sure…?”
Kiyoomi hummed, glancing down at (Name) who had stopped crying by now and was actively listening to the conversation. “It’s time they knew.”
“Ah,” Ms. Watanabe sounded as if she wanted to disagree but stopped herself. “Alright. I’ll stand by you. Do you want to delete the post still? It might not do much but it’ll delete the comments.”
“No. I’m going to post something. Bye.”
“Oh, uh, bye.”
(Name) sighed. “You don’t think I’m weird right?”
“No. You are a cute dog. My dog,” Kiyoomi said, a hint of teasing in his voice as he gently grasped (Name)’s neck. (Name), despite his puffy red eyes and teared stained face, smirked.
“Need me to get my collar?”
“Now you made it weird.”
“Oh you’re no fun!”
Kiyoomi simply smiled, as much as he did really, and stood up. “I’m going to take a shower. Get dressed, you have to look good for our picture.”
“Our picture?”
(Name) was honestly shocked. Kiyoomi was going to take a picture with him. He had made (Name) wear the dog ears (but not the collar) and dress in their matching sweaters that Kiyoomi didn’t even like wearing often. Just who was this man and where was his boyfriend?
They were sitting on the couch as Kiyoomi pulled out his phone to take multiple photos—vastly different from his usual one. Each pose was different. One was just them leaning in close, another was Kiyoomi playfully biting his cheeks and a few was of them kissing.
It was, in Kiyoomi’s word, a way for them to not deny it.
He captioned it as a full sentence instead of his usual one word.
My dog is better than yours. Love you, (Name).
(Name) giggled to himself ignoring the weird look Kiyoomi gave him. He tackled him into a hug, babbling on and on about how happy he was to have the world know he was his.
It really took only two minutes before Kiyoomi’s phone began buzzing like crazy. He hesitated to grab it but knew he should at least see what they were saying. To his surprise, a lot of them were kind, a few shocked by the somewhat “kinky” display but happy for him none the less.
Though there was one that caught his eye by a random model he noticed that always commented on his post as soon as possible.
Seriously?! Why him?! With all the people in the world?! To think I thought you were hot.
Kiyoomi never comments. But he did just this once. He wanted them to know that he’d never take any disrespect from his fans on his lover.
Are you stupid?
And that’s all was what needed to be said. He shut off his phone and pulled (Name) into a long cuddle on the couch.
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ END
Request number two!! I wasn’t sure what you meant by puppy persona so I just adapted it like that, hopefully it’s fine!
Requests are open!
The request for tomorrow is a threesome with characters from BNHA :)
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AITA for scratching up my sister's favorite record?
I (15F) am a huge fan of books. there's one specific author that I really like but I'd rather not name to stay private. I finally got my copy of my favorite book of hers signed a few months ago and I was so excited!
Ive never been super close with my sister (19F). she's always been busy doing school stuff and I think she thinks of me as an annoying little kid. she isn't really into books, but she is really into music and specifically having physical copies of music. I dont really listen to music so I dont really get it.
recently she came home from her first semester of college and I think she wanted to try bonding with me more? (our parents mightve told her to do that idk) so she asked if she could borrow one of my books. and in hindsight I shouldnt have given her that one book but I was super happy to get to show it to someone else.
after about a week with it she returned it to me and it was in horrible condition! she had obviously been eating while she read, there were crumbs and smudges, and she had dogeared some pages too! this made me really upset because I believe that you should treat other people's books like they're from the library and you should be super super careful with them. she didnt even apologize until I confronted her and she didnt really seem to mean it.
I decided the only way to show her how it feels would be to do the same thing back. while she was out with her friends I snuck into her room and took out one of her records and started scratching it up with my fingers. I honestly dont really know how records work but ive heard that scratching is bad and makes them sound bad? that was really satisfying so I picked two more too.
well it worked. shes pissed at me. our dad agrees that she shouldnt have messed up my book but he thinks that messing with her stuff was going too far. our mom doesnt even think the book destruction was a big deal at all and is super mad at me.
I know I might be the asshole because I was pretty worked up emotionally and not thinking super rationally when I did that. but am I justified in going for revenge?
What are these acronyms?
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yes im changing
paige bueckers x reader
(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)
masterlist
synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?
chapter 3
oh no it is. aubrey’s new roommate is the girl paige.. you know..
“oh hey” y/n said awkwardly. “hi! im aubrey, im sorry about earlier..” aubrey replied and apologized. “oh no it’s okay, i just got hurt and im already so tired from today” y/n gave her a comforting smile.
after about an hour, getting unready, aubrey and y/n meet again in the living room. both of them cant sleep, both from excitement to start a new year. they got to learn more about each other other, and they started to feel less awkward.
“oh yeah i know the girl you were with earlier, we see her often, i think shes the daughter of coach’s friend” aubrey mentioned peyton. “ah yeah she told me! shes also freshman in psychology with me” y/n replied. “thats cool! she can bring you to our games and support us huskies!” aubrey said.
“we will see, since i just really focus on my academics this year. plan to get high grades and transfer to stanford. got rejected but its my ultimate dream” y/n sighed. she then talked about stanford more and her father. aubrey comforted her, saying “im so sorry, im always here for you! reach for that goal, im sure your father is proud of you. but in the meantime, dont worry, uconns got you!”
the two got sleepy and head off to bed. y/n felt happy as she felt more relieved with choosing uconn. she closed her eyes, getting rest for the next day.
next day; first day of actual school
“you guys will make your own research, anything about psychology, i want to see your passion and skills. research has to be done by the end of the semester, but we will have working sessions mixed with the lectures so i know you guys have progress.” the professor said.
it was y/n’s first class, and she got bombed with this? i mean yeah, she could do it, but it just suprised her as it was the first thing her professor said. and plus, what topic could she even work on?
after classes, peyton invited y/n to watch basketball training with her. y/n insisted but peyton really wanted to watch her “crush.” y/n nodded her head, and just thought that she could use her laptop, thinking about what her research should be about.
when they went into the court, aubrey saw y/n and waved at her, paige and the others looking confused, but y/n just shrugged it off and heard aubrey explaining to her team that they are roommates. on the other hand, peyton was getting excited and pointed at azzi. “she is sooooo pretty. ive been crushing on her ever since my dad bought me to their game. she’s a sophomore” peyton exclaimed. y/n teased her for a bit, and then she pulled out her laptop.
she didnt know what topic to use, and when she heard the basketball team talk about their homework, she got an idea.
a comparative research on the academic resilience of students and student-athletes in the university of connecticut.
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papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?
A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in
it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)
Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die
Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.
This is how the world will remember his name.
At least, he hopes.
But then he meets you.
You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.
Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.
He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.
Except...
You don't leave.
Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.
He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.
You must be bored, he thinks.
But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.
You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.
It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.
You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.
Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.
Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.
Now he looks forward to seeing you.
His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.
Things progress...surprisingly natural.
He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.
Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.
You can't not kiss him.
You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.
Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.
Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.
Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.
Claiming you.
You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.
Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.
Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.
His.
And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.
How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?
No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.
...until everything changes.
You miss a period.
You tell him about it.
You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)
But deep down, you know.
You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.
You know something is amiss.
And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.
Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.
You're both terrified, of course.
You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.
Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.
And certainly not right now.
But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.
Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.
It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.
You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.
But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?
That he wanted this with you, and was excited?
You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.
Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.
Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.
Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.
Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.
That garners a laugh from him.
I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.
He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-
He takes you again.
Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.
Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.
How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.
He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.
He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.
The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.
The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.
He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?
What he doesn't expect is his own desire.
You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.
It's you, so of course he's going to want you.
But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?
He can't resist you.
Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.
He can't resist you.
You're insatiable.
So is he.
He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.
Nearly every day, you beg for him.
He loves you.
And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.
Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).
He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.
Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.
I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.
I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.
You sigh happily.
It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.
You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.
The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.
And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.
But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.
They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!
He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.
Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.
Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.
She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.
She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.
His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.
But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?
The tears begin again.
Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.
Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.
Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.
The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.
Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.
All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.
Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.
Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.
Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.
Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.
Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.
And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.
The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.
It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.
And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.
It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.
And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.
She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.
It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.
He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.
But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.
He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.
After all, he would do anything, for her.
His greatest creation.
#viktor x reader#viktor arcane x reader#arcane x reader#viktor headcanons#viktor blurb#viktor reader insert#arcane reader insert#i am slowly rising from the dead whoops
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Hiii WandaNat x daughter reader where R was severely harmed in a mission or got involved.
For example, they Nat or Wands were assigned on a mission to investigate and just so it happens, R was there so when chaos started, R was severely injured and like got a pretty bad brain damage which she will fight through. How will the mother's copee??
Thankss!
safe & sound
pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader (platonic)
warnings: angst, bad writing :P, crying, physical violence, hospital, natasha blames herself ;((, lots of love from moms <3
a/n: im really sorry it took me SO long to write this request, ive been having awful weeks and im really trying to write. anyway, i hope you like it and thank you very much for the request luv <333
When you decided you wanted to follow in the same footsteps as your mothers, they didn't react so well. You always trained with the Avengers, closely watching their next steps for any unforeseen circumstances and how good they were at what they did. And you especially loved seeing Wanda and Natasha fighting, they have been your inspiration since you were little and understand each other.
You remember when you asked your mother Natasha to start going on missions, even if it was the easier ones that would only take a few hours, and you could swear you saw her eyes light up with regret. Not that she didn't trust you, but both Natasha and Wanda knew that any mission would be dangerous and the last thing they wanted was to leave you hurt or for anything bad to happen to you. So, you started to train even more and show how much you dedicated yourself to going on one of these missions and, as your mothers knew you so well, they knew that you wouldn't give up until you went on one of them.
"Fury allowed you to go on this mission with one of us," Natasha was sitting in front of him next to Wanda in the meeting room. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face, your legs shaking because you were so excited for your first mission. "It's an easy mission where you just have to investigate and collect some important information in an old Hydra base." You nod listening to every detail of what you needed to do.
"Fury assured us that there will be no one and no agent, but for your safety you will carry a weapon, okay?" Wanda, your other mother, spoke this time. She also seemed to be a little worried about your first mission since she remembers very well what it's like to be in the hospital bed after one or see anyone else in it. Just imagining you in that position makes her body shiver.
Your mothers start to tell you some information about what you should know and what would happen. Even though the mission was so easy and simple, Wanda decided that it would be better if Natasha accompanied you, since if she went along she might end up getting so nervous that she would faint. And even though you assured that you would be careful, she made you hug her for at least five minutes, stroking your hair and giving you all the comfort you would need for that mission. "I love you so much my love."
"I love you very much too, Mama." You felt Wanda leave a long kiss on your hair as you laid your head on her shoulder. "I promise everything will be fine."
She laughs and takes a deep breath. "I'm the one who should be saying this. But you're right, my love." You separate from her and see that her eyes were full of tears.
Even though it seemed a little dramatic, you knew that Wanda was very close to you. Whenever your mother missed you because you were only away from home for a few hours, you remember when Natasha told you that when it was your first day of school when you were a toddler, Wanda didn't want to let you go at all. And now several years later, she still reacted the same way.
"Alright, we better go before Wanda makes us give up." Natasha says, making her other mother roll her eyes before walking towards her, leaving a long kiss on her lips.
"Ew, not in front of me." You make a disgusted expression at them, even if it was just a joke. You've always admired how much your mothers are in love with each other and how much they show it on a daily basis. Wanda always preferred physical affection to love Natasha, and Romanoff always preferred acts of service to love Maximoff. And even though they were different things, the two never disliked these acts.
"One day it's going to be you, sweetheart." They giggle before hugging each other as they say 'I love you'.
[...]
Your hands sounded as you entered the Hydra base. A gun in hand as you looked in every corner of that place. You felt like something was out of position, but you tried not to worry. Maybe it was just your anxious conscious or maybe you were just too nervous. The noise of your heart was too loud and the only thing you heard was the faint footsteps of your boot on the ground. And even though you tried to focus on what was happening there at the moment, it seemed like now all of your mother Wanda's nervous genes were in you.
"I think I found it, Mom." You speak into the device in your ear, Natasha listening on the other side. She praises you, sending a wave of comfort to your mind that seemed to be trying to sabotage you at that moment.
You quickly place the pen drive in the computer and see the percentage of how much was transferred appear on the screen. You hold the gun tightly in your hands as you scan the place, looking at every possible corner. You walk to your right calmly, trying not to make too much noise in your tall black boots. And when you were about to take the next step, a big tud behind you made you turn around quickly, still with the gun pointed forward. "Mom, I just heard a noise-" And before you could finish speaking, the lights in the place went out completely, the energy going out.
"Y/n- need- leave-!" The device in your ear was getting stuck a lot, loud noises disturbing what little you could hear. Natasha tried to say something, but you almost couldn't hear, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.
With all the training you had you tried to stay as calm as possible. Even if you couldn't see if someone or something was with you, your ears tried to capture any sound coming from that space, but with the device in your ears it was almost impossible. You knew that if you took it off it would be a big risk if your mother ever managed to talk to you again. But it would also be a risk not to hear what was around you.
You debated with what you should do or not do, but it was too late when two large arms grabbed your body from the ground. You let out a startled scream when you realize what is happening. Your reflexes are quick as you forcefully push your elbow into the stomach of the stranger behind you. He staggers back, making you fall to the ground, but before you can do anything, a kick lands in your belly. You hit your head on the ground, making your vision even blurrier. Your gun was still stuck in your hands, so the first thing you do is aim forward and shoot, when you hear a male scream of pain you know you hit him somewhere. "You bitch!"
You don't realize what's happening when he takes a gun out of his pants and also shoots. You scream in pain when the bullet pierces your arm that was holding the gun, it wasn't very deep, but the pain was too horrible. And even if you tried, you couldn't raise your arm to shoot the guy again. You start to crawl backwards trying to get away from the figure that you still couldn't see in the dark and prayed that he couldn't see you too.
But when you started to hear his heavy footsteps towards you, you knew there was nothing left to do.
[...]
Wanda felt her heart stop when she heard the doctors moving around in the Compound. Someone had been hurt on some mission a few hours after you and Natasha left. Maximoff was shaking as she waited for the injured person's Quinjet to pull up, and even though she asked any of the doctors who the unlucky one was, it seemed like she was invisible to them. It seemed like they didn't want to respond to watch her heart break into a million pieces.
Wanda felt so nervous that she thought maybe she was going to faint. Thinking that the extremely injured person, since the doctors were going almost crazy to get everything they needed, could be you or Natasha, made her want to throw up her entire lunch right there. And when the car appeared in their vision, Wanda moved even closer, continuing to give the doctors space to do their work.
When the big door opened, the first thing your mother saw was Natasha with some bruises on her face along with tears that still fell on her pale face. Romanoff held you in her arms. One of them put pressure on your arm to stop the bleeding, but even so, you seemed to be bleeding from other places as a pool of blood was being spilled by Natasha's suit. Your body was unconscious and heavy in your mother's hands, your face completely scarred with cuts and bruises all over it. And even if your mother tried to look at your fragile and small body, she couldn't.
Maximoff lets out a grunt when she sees that you were the current patient. Seeing how Natasha staggered with you in her arms was one of the worst sights she could have had. You being placed on the stretcher while the doctors took you to surgery as quickly as possible was in her nightmares, and now, she could feel firsthand how horrible that was. Natasha follows the crowd of people, finally coming across her wife there. Romanoff didn't wait a second to throw herself into Wanda's arms as the two allowed the tears to fall. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"
"Shh- it's not your fault, Natasha." Wanda tried to calm her down, even though it was almost impossible since she also needed comfort. "Y/n is going to be fine, it's okay."
"I- I couldn't get there in time. She was in- in a huge pool of blood and this guy was-" Natasha couldn't finish speaking before her eyes started bursting with tears again as she recalled the scene of you barely conscious on the ground while the Hydra agent kicked you mercilessly. Blood smeared everywhere and your face full of tears was what she saw every time she closed her eyes, it was horrible.
It took Wanda a few minutes to get Natasha to calm down. Despite many other occasions being the opposite, Romanoff has always shown how concerned she is about you. But seeing you and having to carry you almost dead in her arms was another thing entirely, and one that will probably haunt her forever. Natasha had the beginning of a panic attack there, with her blood on her suit and on her hands, but Wanda, knowing her wife, managed to make her feel like she was on the floor again.
A few hours had passed since you entered that operating room, and knowing that it would take a long time for the doctors to stabilize you, Wanda took care of Natasha, cleaning her body and putting her in more comfortable clothes to wait for you sitting in the waiting room. Your mother was able to breathe normally now, even though the tears hadn't stopped falling from both of their faces. Natasha felt her body want to sleep, but her mind wouldn't let her, not when you were fighting for your life in the next room.
Wanda runs her hand affectionately through Natasha's red hair that reminded her of your own. Her head on her shoulder as she felt her wife's body relax but then become rigid again, but even if Maximoff tried, she wouldn't be able to make Natasha relax. "Remember that time Y/n fell down the slide and broke her arm? She didn't even cry." Wanda spoke so softly that any outsider who saw it would think she wasn't as nervous as her wife.
"Yeah... she even asked you to break her arm with your magic so she could put a cast on it again so she could draw on it." Natasha laughs remembering when you were seven years old, you were probably the happiest child in the world.
"She's so strong," Wanda murmurs as she presses a kiss to Natasha's red hair and she closes her eyes taking a deep breath. "I know she'll make it out of this."
And when Maximoff stopped talking, one of the doctors who was participating in your surgery enters the room. Natasha was now more than awake, her body jumping up towards the man in the white coat. Wanda doesn't take long to join her either, rambling questions to the doctor over and over again. "Everything went well in the surgery to remove the bullet from Y/n's body, despite the heavy blood loss." Romanoff holds her wife's hand while listening to him talk about your conditions, squeezing it every time she feels like her heart is going to come out of her mouth. "Unfortunately, due to the severe injuries to her head, she was caused a brain injury called a concussion."
"Oh, God. She's going to be okay, isn't she?"
"Don't worry, Mrs. Maximoff. Concussion is a very common thing for people to experience and usually with a few weeks of medical treatment and rest she will feel well again." The two women were finally able to take a deep breath without feeling that nervousness in their chests. "You just need to pay attention to some symptoms she may have, such as headache, mental confusion, sometimes memory loss, nausea, vomiting, excessive fatigue and some other things that you will probably notice. With the treatment I am sure that Y/n will recover much better.”
Despite all these things you might feel, they were relieved that you were okay. And they knew you would recover quickly, your genes coming from Natasha and Wanda weren't just anyone, you were strong and everyone knew it. And even if they thought that way, nothing would prepare them for seeing you lying on the stretcher. Your body was so fragile and small there, your eyes looked so tired despite being closed and the cuts on your face didn't help. The tubes coming out of your body weren't the prettiest, but it was what was helping you survive at that moment.
"My baby girl..." Wanda stroked your hair as she looked at you now slightly pale face. Her comforting touch would make you lean against her even more if you were awake, but that wouldn't be possible at the moment.
Natasha remained a little distant compared to Maximoff. She was scared, scared that if she made any move you would get hurt again, because in the redhead's mind everything that had happened was her fault. If she had checked to see if the area really was clean, if she had warned you as quickly as possible so you could get out of there, if she had arrived on time. "Nat?" Wanda knew what she was thinking, what she felt was written on the ex-assassin's face, and her wife had been with her for enough years to know what that mind was thinking.
In a few moments, Romanoff's body was enveloped in Wanda's affectionate and comforting embrace, who gently moved from side to side, holding her head against her shoulder while leaving a chaste kiss on her hair. Natasha knew that hug from anywhere, the hug that said everything was okay, that everything would fall into place again. Sometimes it took more than a hug for her to feel that, but sometimes she knew Wanda was right. "I w-want a hug too." Your hoarse voice was present at the scene, making your mothers quickly separate from each other.
"Y/n, my god! You scared me so much, don't ever do that again-"
"Wands, calm down, don't give her any more headaches." You chuckle along with your mother Natasha who was now holding your wife's hand. They walk towards your stretcher seeing that you still seemed to be a little disoriented with everything that happened, but even so you still had a smile on your face for them.
"How are you feeling, my love?" Wanda again made the same affectionate gestures to you as she sat next to you, feeling your body relax at her touch, but this time, you are awake enough to feel it.
"Headache and feeling like I might throw up at any moment."
"Ew." Natasha complains in a funny tone making you want to laugh at that moment, but having a headache would make things even worse. Romanoff still had an apprehensive tone on her face, maybe it was the guilt she felt she had or maybe it was seeing you in that place, with bruises everywhere.
"You aren't hurt, are you, Mom?" Even though you almost died with a gunshot wound to your body and a brain injury, it was obvious that you would care about others, especially if it was one of your mothers.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, sweetheart." Natasha moved a little closer to you, leaving a kiss on your forehead that was welcomed with a smile on your face. "I was so worried about you." She murmurs as Wanda places one of her hands on her wife's thigh, making small circles on it.
"I'm fine now, Mom. Thanks for going to save me." You put a small smile on your face in a funny way, trying to ease the tension of the hospital room.
"You know I'll always be here for whatever you need." Natasha wasn't just referring to helping you save yourself from physical violence, but she was also referring to helping you when you have any problems. Do you need a shoulder to cry on? She will be there. Do you need help completing a task? Don't worry, you know she won't take a minute to come to you. Problems with girls or guys? She will love telling you how she really knew the love of her life.
In those times when something difficult happened, your mothers knew how to comfort and help you. You had an unbreakable bond and that always warmed your heart. Realizing that you had people who more than cared about you by your side was incredible. Maybe for some other people it was strange to have two mothers, but you didn't care, because for you, it was an indescribable magic.
#avengers imagine#marvel cinematic universe#marvel imagine#black widow#wanda maximoff x female reader#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff oneshot#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha x you#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff#wanda x natasha#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandanat#wanda x you#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x daughter!reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maxmoff x y/n#natasha romanov x reader
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Hihiii
Nephite when an other follower/ omega tryed to get with us?
yandere omega cultist nephite
cw;; religion, cults, omegaverse, violence
nephite is the least physically violent of the ocs ive posted so far but that doesn't take away from how scary he can be. he's so loyal to the church he has a lot of power for an omega.
y/n: do you know what happened to him?
nephite: he received divine punishment ^.^
y/n: right. i forgot you're crazy again.
nephite can't even breathe when he sees one of the slightly younger omegas flirting with you at a potluck. you're completely unreceptive to the advances of course. but he can't help but hear these words in his ears.
"alphas always prefer young omegas"
right now you were ignoring this harlot but for how long? how long before he became old and undesirable? nephite chewed his thumb nail until he broke the skin, only actually stopping because his mother pulled his hand away. she scolded him gently as she cleaned up his booboo but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear her. his sister noticed and teased him a little for getting so worked up over a random omega.
they were right. it was silly. he stuffed it down but he still spent the whole night attached to your hip.
it was fine.
but that omega didn't stop. if you left the house that omega would come find you and immediately start talking to you. his hands would press against your chest, his arms would wrap around one of your own, he would lean his body into you every chance he got. nephite's usually bright eyes would go dead the moment he saw the younger omega. what was he supposed to say? that filth never did it when he was right next to you, always waiting for you to be alone. and its not like it got more suggestive than just flirting. but it was driving nephite insane.
one day nephite was holding a sacred texts study group for omegas at your home. he had been so excited to be the host for this meeting, he spent the whole day making snacks for it! only to find, to his horror, that omega also arrived. you had decided to stay out of the living room while his group was going on but that just meant that horrible harlot could really get you alone! nephite had tried so hard to watch him like a hawk but he'd also gotten too into the discussion with the others. he never even realized when that omega disappeared from the group.
after everyone left he headed to your shared bedroom, excited to tell you about how it went. his hands pressed the door and his eyes immediately went dead. you were sitting on the bed with that omega, just talking. you had been showing him a book you'd been reading recently. his hand was on your knee. his shirt was unbuttoned. nephite felt dizzy, delirious with all the dark emotions bubbling in his stomach. he thought about killing that harlot right here, cutting off the filthy hands that dared to touch you.
you snapped him out of it, asking if group was over and then saying that harlot should leave. you escorted him to the door like a real gentleman. you asked him what was bothering him, if his group had gone poorly. nephite had practically tackled you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. he cried well into the night about all his insecurities and worries about you leaving him. and with every tear there was your reassuring hand in his hair, soothing him gently.
but that wasn't enough. the next day he went to confession with a pair of his frilly underwear stuffed in his pocket. he told the pastor the truth. mostly. he exaggerated the amount of adultery that harlot had really done so far. the pastor seemed to know he was being lied to but he trusted that nephite would only be bringing someone to his attention if they were a filthy sinner. the frilly underwear were icing on the cake. he told the pastor that he found them in the sinner's home along with a plan to seduce you.
they made a big show of dragging that sinner through the compound. wherever he was going he would never be coming back from. he caught nephite's eyes as he was dragged crying and screaming through the street. nephite held your arm tighter a wicked smile on his face just long enough for that foolish sinner to catch.
#top male reader#dom male reader#male reader#yandere ideas#yandere x male reader#sub yandere#yandere oc#replies#yandere cultist#alpha reader#yandere omega
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kazutora, hakkai, and izana or anyone you like are going to visit their darlings apartment for the first time! uninvited and without her knowledge but still exciting! but when they get in there its like empty as hell. one room apartment and not counting the kitchen that came with it her only piece of furniture is her bed...maybe has a couple magazines laying around, and a phone thats just plugged into the wall sitting on the floor. this is beyond minimalist bruh what is going on? does she actually live here? where are her clothes??? under the bed maybe. babygirl you alright?
cant relate ive got so much weird shit in my living space but let me give this a shot.
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, BROKE-ASS DARLING, BREAKING AND ENTERING
Yandere!Kazutora Hanemiya
Ok so this loser was so excited to break in and learn so much about his soulmate only to be crushed at the barren emptiness. He was so sad for you.
He wants you to have everything your heart desires and he feels like you don't have what you rightfully deserve.
Gifts, gifts, and more gifts are flooded your way. He's giving you clothes, handbags, posters and plushies. Anything you showed slight interest in he's getting you some kind of merch.
You try and tell him that you really don't need all this stuff, but he doesn't accept that. "You deserve it. C'mon, just this once?" except once turns into twice and a hundred times more.
That's not even the brunt of it, he's got his own special room he's decking out and making just for you when he decides its time for you to come home with him.
Yandere!Hakkai Shiba
So he isn't the breaking and entering type, but after failing to initiate a conversation with you, for like the tenth time in a row, he decides it's time to try a different approach.
His sister and Taka-Chan both told him to try and take an interest in your likes, that way when he tries to talk to you he'll have something to talk about, except he doesn't know what you like and he resorts to this.
So shocked and defeated when he finds nothing. Not one photo, not one hobby, not even books. Just magazines and he honestly doesn't really understand what the interest in those are either.
But he's smart and finally has an idea. He invites you shopping- and by that I of course mean his sister invites you shopping and he tags along like an overgrown guard dog.
Sure Hakkai may not speak the whole time or even make eye contact with you once but he does swipe his own card every time you go to the register to pay for something.
Even though the fool doesn't even respond when you tell him thank you, you don't miss the way he blushes when you try to speak to him.
Yandere!Izana Kurokawa
He wasn't planning on breaking in either. But he was bored and he wanted to see if there were things you were hiding from him. Like maybe secret friends that meant he wasn't the center of your world, or maybe plans to move away and leave him.
It was more about his own insecurities than anything so when he breaks in and sees nothing in your apartment at first he's worried that his fears are right and you really are going to leave without a trace.
But then he looks more carefully, and realizes "Damn, bitch. You live like this?" Is more bemused than anything, but after while starts to feel a little bad.
"I need clothes. Do you need clothes?" He's going to try shopping with you. But then you hit him with that "Naw, my socks only have a few holes in them."
Drags your ass to the mall. "Pick out some damn furniture, Y/N. I know you ain't got shit." "How do you-" "I said pick out some furniture, Y/N."
#yandere tokyo revengers#yandere izana kurokawa#yandere izana#yandere kazutora hanemiya#yandere hakkai#yandere hakkai shiba
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hi tumblr
ive been rewatching gravity falls and i thought it would be funny to recap certain events in the show with no context whatsoever
-dipper sings dancing queen by abba with a mutant bear he was about to kill.
-stan, a man in his 60-70s, lectures a child on how to formulate an evil plan. (the child is 4 years old, stans rival, and having a mental breakdown because stan's granchildren are in his armpits)
-dipper gets literally mauled by a wolf and decides its better than going to his sister's sleepover.
-larry king gets decapitated.
-kids break in to a convenience store where one of them gets high out of her mind on cheap illegal ice cream (normal tuesday for these kids)
-kids find out about the 8th and a half president: who made the first all-baby supreme court.
-grunkle stan wins the football bowl. he taught the footballers and their gloating friends a lesson. he wins a football winning trophy, and a beautiful woman aptly named beautiful woman. but he couldnt have done it, any of it, without his sidekick footbot.
-soos is canonically afraid of british dog men. hes so real for that honestly.
-ARE YOU SICK OF PILES OF OWLS CONSTANTLY BLOCKING YOUR DRIVEWAY?! WELL THEN YOU GOTTA GET OWL TROWEL
-youre laughing. people are sick of piles of owls constantly blocking their driveway and youre laughing.
-the only on screen character death, with the exception of bill, is that of big henry, who sacrificed himself by taking a golf ball to the other side of the mine. the protagonists never learn this.
-soos turns into clay and starts breaking the laws of the universe. so stan kills him with a radio.
-two kids travel back in time and crush toby's musical theatre dreams.
-"dudebro" became a mainstay in my regular vocabulary for two years because of this show.
-grunkle stan teaches a bear how to drive. he almost gets arrested in this episode. not for teaching a bear how to drive but because of tax fraud.
-soos' stomach emits whale noises.
-mcgucket has apparently exploded an entire downtown city because his pal earnie didn't come to his retirement party. justified tbh
-stan starts booing some little kids because they told their grandpa they loved him
-let me just set the scene for a sec here: its 2016. its a beautiful summer day, where the hazy nostalgia of a music festival fills your eyes, your ears, and the uneasy excitement of love in the hot summer air makes every second better than the last. suddenly, a gigantic flaming head of a man saying "i eat kids" descends upon you from the sky. the graphic horror is something youll never forget. the grotesque image of people in terror at this gargantuan mass of flaming flesh. it burns into your eyes. is this it for you? you see a child, clueless to the situation, ask his mother his final words: is the giant flaming head going to eat us? she says yes. as it consumes you, you cry a single tear. im done being dramatic but this did happen
-beautiful men eat out of stan's trash (this apparently happens consistently)
-youre laughing. darn beautiful men are always eating out of his trash and youre laughing.
-stan strips on public television.
-gourney gets eaten by a halloween monster. he is only freed when soos eats the monnster.
-the gravity falls universe has a public television program where babies fight each other.
-grunkle stan tries to burn aforementioned four year old nemesis alive.
-ok not really but he tries to blind him at least which is still pretty bad.
-grunkle stan tries to steal an animatronic badger
-mabeland has a government entirely run by mabel. this makes mabel an autocratic fascist. sorry i dont make the rules.
-soos' mom turns into a chair.
-theres a character named toot toot mc bumblesnazzle, who plays a banjo. go ahead and guess his narrative importance. if you guess cult leader, correct!
-neil degrasse tyson plays a pig.
and last but certainly not least, stan has illegally shipped pugs across the us border.
#i spent hours on this#gravity falls#pines family#grunkle stan#dipper pines#gravity falls dipper#mabel pines#gravity falls mabel#stan pines#alex hirsch#long post
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CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS WOOO!! its been a little over a year since ive found your writting, how time flies T-T Could you possibly write a platonic gojo & reader oneshot where its just snippets of Gojo's first year teaching and the reader is a 1st year student not part of jujutsu society? I'd prefer if the mc had a somewhat introverted personality while being grumpy bc of being forced to attend the school. U can change their behaviour to what u feel more comfortable writing if u want tho!!
── THE SCHOLAR
Synopsis: A short snippet of how Satoru Gojo convinces you to be his first student in full.
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Gojo & Reader
Chapter Word Count: 2.6k
Content Warnings: not many tbh…reader is a d1 hater of gojo and ino ig?? also just a hater in general LMAO she does NOT want to be there
A/N: wow anon i can’t believe it’s been a year since you found my account and that you’ve stuck around for so long, that means a lot to me!! i apologize for how long this took me and how short it is 😫 it was a bit difficult for me to write gojo as a teacher without feeling like i was just rehashing his dynamic w a previous y/n i’ve written 😓 but i hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted?? also idk if you’ve read my fic pomegranate ink or not but i did throw in a reference to it at one point so props to anyone who catches that hehe
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
You weren’t really sure what cause your classmate had to be as pleased as he was, but for some reason, the boy was bouncing in his seat, scribbling down notes with the fervor of a scholar — though you were quite certain that he was nothing of the sort, at least not when his test scores were taken into consideration.
“Hey,” you whispered, tossing an eraser at his head when your teacher’s back was turned. “Ino. What’s the big deal? We’re not even learning anything yet, so what are you writing down?”
“Are you kidding me? Gojo just told us an entire story of his past. That’s valuable information!” Ino said. You frowned at him.
“It’s not valuable information, because he’s so prone to embellishment that he’s all but an author at this point. Besides, do you think you, or anyone else for that matter, will ever face seven first grades and come out the winner, without even a scratch?” you said.
“He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, though, so it’s feasible for him,” Ino said.
“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Maybe for him, but not for anyone else. This is just bragging under the guise of an educational opportunity. We’re never going to be powerful enough to replicate such a feat, so what’s the use in wasting our time talking about it?”
“You’re such a spoil-sport,” Ino huffed. “We’re the first students to ever get to learn from Satoru Gojo, and somehow, you’re complaining about it? That’s ridiculous no matter what way you put it!”
“Is everything okay?”
Both you and Ino jumped as Satoru Gojo appeared in front of your desks, peering down at you over the lenses of his dark glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed that you were talking while he was ‘teaching’; in fact, he looked excited, as if he wanted to join in the conversation as well. You could imagine him pulling up a chair and resting his chin in his hands as he gossiped with you, and it made you scoff.
“Everything’s fine. We were just wondering when you were actually going to start the lesson,” you said.
“She was wondering that!” Ino rushed to clarify. You shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye, which he ignored — you supposed loyalty didn’t mean much to him, as you two weren’t really friends and therefore couldn’t inspire much loyalty in one another regardless. “I was telling her how fascinated I am by the story you were telling!”
“Suck-up,” you hissed.
“Stupid,” he hissed back. Gojo clapped his hands, returning to the front of the classroom with a distinctly unacademic swagger to his step that made you internally fume.
“No worries, we’re just getting to that part! Today, we’ll go over some basic curse theory,” he said, drawing simplistic shapes on the chalkboard to accompany his explanations. As usual, Ino was absorbed by the standard bullshit Gojo spouted, but you found it to be so boring that you actually began to nod off, catching up on the sleep you had missed last night due to a mission which had run later than expected.
Unlike Ino, who had been automatically enrolled in the school because of his family lineage, you had been scouted as a fresh talent by Satoru Gojo himself. It had been a long conversation, and he had only managed to convince you in the end by telling you all about Kaito Hinode, the well-regarded first year teacher who you would study under. Hinode was a sorcerer you believed you wouldn’t have trouble respecting, and so you begrudgingly agreed to attend the school and give the whole notion of ‘jujutsu sorcery’ a shot.
Then Hinode retired, mere weeks before you were set to begin at the school, and his replacement was revealed to be none other than that irreverent, inept, and decidedly unserious man who you had secretly hoped you would not see much more of: Satoru Gojo.
You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in active duty, but the theoretical side of it interested you to an almost unhealthy extent. You spent days upon days studying the workings of curses and cursed energy, to the point that you could be considered almost an expert. That was the only thing cheering you about coming to the school, that you’d get to discuss with individuals on your level, and so it had been such a heartbreaking disappointment when Gojo, who cared little about the causes and more about the results, was the only proper sorcerer you came into frequent contact with.
The other teachers didn’t have time to entertain your pestering, far too busy with their own students, which meant that Gojo was really your only option. And of course you had tried — really, you had. You had presented him with your questions and ideas, but he had only made a face and told you that studying curse theory to this extent wouldn’t help anyone, and least of all yourself.
He wanted you to learn how to fight, but you didn’t care for that. You didn’t want to fight. If you could spend the rest of your days shut away in a study, reading your books and taking notes on them, then you’d be quite content. You were reluctant to go on missions, even if you were ten times better than your peers, and you often dragged your feet heading into your practical classes. More than once, Ino had had to hoist you over his shoulders and sprint to the training field so that you were not both late, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t be so harsh on him given that, but because it meant that you had to exert yourself on the battlefield instead of rereading your favorite essays, his good intentions only made you resent him more.
“You know, you could really be a great sorcerer,” Gojo said to you one day. You were sitting on a bench while Ino did exercises, ink smudging your hand as you meticulously annotated a book that the principal had given to you. You blinked up at him, amazed once again at how tall he was. He blocked out the sunlight, his shadow looming over you in a way that would’ve been ominous if he wasn’t so typically harmless.
“Hm?” you said, returning to your book when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything of importance. “Sure, I guess I could be.”
“Becoming a first grade isn’t an impossibility for you. It’s something attainable, which is incredibly rare for someone as young as you,” he continued.
“Right,” you said.
“Do you care about that, though?” he said.
“Nope,” you said. “I have no interest in being a first grade sorcerer. It just means more dangerous missions, doesn’t it? I don’t care about all of that.”
“It also means a higher salary,” he said.
“Probably not high enough to make up for the risks,” you said.
“Well, it’s pretty high, though only you can decide if it makes up for the risks or not,” he said.
“Listen, sir, I’m only even here because you told me I could further my studies with people renowned in their fields. Do you mind telling me what field you’re renowned in? Because for some unfathomable reason, you’ve ended up as my teacher,” you said.
“I’m…the strongest sorcerer? In the world?” he said, though the way he phrased it made it seem like he was asking you instead of telling. You shrugged.
“That’s an intrinsic talent. You didn’t learn to be that way; you were just born with it. Sure, you had to practice, but practicing and studying are different. Anyways, even if you are the strongest soldier, I think we’ve established that that’s not something I’m interested in. I was supposed to be under the tutelage of wise and experienced professors, but instead, I’m being instructed by you, who’s barely even a few years my elder and has never taught before,” you said, closing your book and holding it to your chest, smiling tightly at him. “I’m staying here because my parents already paid the tuition fee, but I’m not happy about it. Just so you know.”
“If you’re a first grade sorcerer, you also get more access to information,” he said after a moment. “Stuff behind a million clearances that only people of a sufficiently high rank get access to.”
You froze, your eyes brightening at the thought of this forbidden knowledge. You already knew that you were missing several key pieces in your preliminary research, but no matter how hard you looked, you had never been able to find the answers to the seemingly obvious questions. Was this why? Was it really because you did not have the seniority to warrant the understanding?
“Is that truly the case?” you said.
“I can’t help you in terms of books and learning and all of that boring stuff,” he said. “But if you put in a bit more effort, I can turn you into someone that the higher ups listen to, instead of the other way around.”
You mulled this over before nodding, standing up and leaving your book on the bench.
“Okay. I’ll do as you tell me to, but like I said earlier, I’m not going to be happy about it,” he said.
“Who cares? You can be the gloomiest girl alive!” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Let’s work together, Y/N!”
“I’m your student,” you reminded him. “Not your friend.”
He waved you off. “You’re old enough to be both. Now let’s get to training!”
It was horrible, being Gojo’s favorite student. For one, Ino was jealous — although soon enough he found another mentor to cotton on to, and then your relationship with him mended into something a little more cordial and polite. For another, Gojo had this strange penchant for throwing you into impossible situations and watching in glee as you struggled to get out of them.
His missions also tended to be errands disguised as pressing matters. Once, he made you run around Tokyo, stopping in various stores so that you could improve your conditioning — stores which just so happened to carry the items on his week’s grocery list. Another time, you single-handedly had to exorcise every single curse harassing a nearby bakery — a bakery which just so happened to carry a specialty flavor of cake that was his new favorite. Whenever you complained about the silly chores, he asked if the exercise had made you stronger or not. You would begrudgingly admit that it had, and then he’d tell you that you should just think of it as a win-win scenario and stop whining.
“Y/N!” That was how it always began: he would shout your name as he entered the classroom, usually accompanying it with a wad of paper or some other, similarly harmless object sent flying your way. You’d catch it in one hand and glare at him.
“What?” This would prompt him to explain his ridiculous plan for the day, after which he would turn to Ino and hand him his assignments. He had gotten special permission from the school to train you in this non-orthodox manner, given that you were so far ahead in any material that giving you homework would be redundant and a waste of time for all parties involved. For his part, Ino did not complain, for he had long ago lost interest in training with Gojo, who was admittedly terrible at actually explaining anything of note.
You made a good pair, you and Gojo, or at least as good of a pair as could be made given the circumstances. As the year went on, you grew more and more familiar with the reasoning behind his atypical style, and though you would never cease to complain, it was more lighthearted, a habit instead of a genuine gripe.
“You’ll be promoted any day now,” Gojo told you on the last day of your first year — the last day that he would be your director supervisor. “They’re waiting for you to grow a bit older, but it’s maturity you lack, not talent. If you participate in the Exchange Event next year, you’ll get the recommendations you need without a problem.”
“If?” you said, picking up on what he had left unsaid. “Isn’t it mandatory? Why wouldn’t I participate?”
“It’s mandatory if you’re living on campus, yes,” he said.
“And what cause would I have to not be living on campus?” you said.
“You’re interested in curse theory, aren’t you?” he said. When you nodded, he sighed. “Still? I was hoping you’d have moved on by now…well, I can get an alternate course of study approved for you by the principal, if you want.”
“An alternate course? What would that entail?” you said.
“One of my fellow special grade sorcerers, Yuki Tsukumo, specializes in researching the exact types of things you find so fascinating. If she agrees to it, then you could serve as an assistant of sorts to her. It’ll be like an internship or something. She won’t let you slack off — it’ll be much worse than anything I put you through, that’s for certain — but if that’s the path you want to take, then it’s an option,” he said.
You had never loved him quite as much as you did in that moment. Without even taking a moment to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him.
“Yes! Yes, Gojo, sir, that would be ideal. I’ve read some of the proposals Tsukumo’s submitted to the higher ups, and oh, if I got to work with her, it would be such a dream,” you said.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “She still has to agree to it.”
“Do you think she’ll say no?” you said.
“Maybe at first,” he said. “After she meets you, though? No way. You’re my pupil, after all. You’ll be the most impressive student she’s ever taken under her wing — and I can attest to the fact that you’ll be far and away the most dedicated.”
You supposed you had some things to thank him for, then. The corners of your lips twitched as you bowed your head at him, causing him to grunt in confusion; after all, you had never shown him such deference before.
“You’re not that bad as a teacher,” you said. “You know, for it being your first time, I think you did alright.”
“Yeah?” he said eagerly before composing himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you turned out just fine.”
“Thank you for everything, Gojo,” you said. “Please know that you’ll always have an ally in me.”
His black sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, just a bit, but enough that you could see the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. Then he reached out and socked you in the arm affectionately.
“Considering how often I butt heads with the higher ups, I might call upon you one day,” he said. “Don’t make that kind of promise lightly, is what I’m saying.”
“I’m not making it lightly,” you said. “If you call upon me, I’ll come. That’s what you do for someone who’s changed your life, right?”
Even the shades he had shoved back into position could not hide the breadth of his smile nor the depth of his fondness. He nodded, slowly at first and then quickly, like he wanted you to be very sure of his agreement.
“True,” he said, and then he patted you on the head. “Guess that means you can call on me whenever you want, too. I’ll be there.”
You smiled at him over your shoulder as you left for the summer and thought that you might never be so fortunate — or unfortunate — as to have a teacher quite like him again.
#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#reader insert#canon au#m1ckeyb3rry milestone#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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AUGH
Could you do a fic about unrequited love?
Mayhaps Baldwin IV really loves the reader, but they cannot be together because an ongoing conflict, the y/n or whoever may or may not know that he loves her, you can take this trope ANYWHERE YOU WANT
(ps, you know who I am)
♧ Unrequited Love - King Baldwin x Reader ♧
♧ Angst ♧
A/N: Hello "Anon" (I know who you are 🤭). Thank you for the cute request, I hope its what you had in mind! Sorry for hitting you guys twice in a row with angst 😭. I swear tomorrows fic will be nice and fluffy!! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
TW: Leprosy, Angst
It was late when Baldwin finally retired to his tent. Tired, yet relieved at how well the day had gone.
Only sixteen years old and already away leading a battle. The day had been productive with three more of Saladin’s camps captured. It wouldn't be long now.
Still, his heart ached. Not for his kingdom, but for the one thing that had not left his mind since the battle had begun.
Y/n.
the daughter of a very wealthy Arabian lord who had sworn the young woman's hand in marriage to Baldwin years ago, despite their conflicting religions. It was a symbol of peace between the two lands.
They had practically grown up together, seeing each other whenever they could, writing to each other every single day.
But since the war had started, the man had retracted his word. Y/n and Baldwin were not to be wed any longer.
The news had broken the young king's heart. He refused to speak with anyone for days. Y/n was just as shattered. She loved him more than anything, even when the news of his leprosy diagnosis came, she stayed by his side. Still anticipating the day they could finally hold each other. Now that day would never come.
Like Baldwin, she refused to speak with anyone. Especially her father. She had cursed him out that day, swearing that she would one day leave his home to be with the man she loved, with his blessing or not.
Every day since the battle began, they would write to each other in secret.
Baldwin sending one of his men to deliver the letter by hand and y/n receiving it each time with even more excitement than the last. Baldwin told her stories of war and she read every word on the edge of her seat.
They would speak of their love and how one day, they would meet again. No matter the outcome of the battle. Y/n swore that if her father even dare contemplate the idea of wedding her to another man that she would run away into the desert, for the very idea of being with any man other than her beloved king was too much to bear. For both of them.
They dreamed of going away together. Leaving everything behind and getting on a boat to somewhere beautiful, like France or Italy. Building a cabin in the countryside, raising a family.
Finally being happy. Finally being together.
Of course, this would not happen. At least for the moment.
The kingdom needed a king to light their way through the dark days of war, and y/n was more than happy to wait. She would wait as long as he needed to if it meant finally being the man she loved more than life itself.
She would wait an eternity if it meant seeing his beautiful face once more.
One day, they would be together.
One day..
#king baldwin iv#kingdom of heaven fandom#kingdom of heaven#king baldwin#kingdom of heaven 2005#the leper king#king baldwin x you#king baldwin iv x reader#king baldwin iv x oc#king baldwin x reader#leper king#kingbaldwin#baldwin iv#baldwin iv of jerusalem#baldwin iv x reader#baldwin#koh fandom#koh#x you fluff#x reader#fanfic#x reader fic#x yn#yandere king baldwin#king baldwin fanfiction#baldwin fan fic#baldwin x female#baldwin x female reader#baldwin fanfiction#baldwin x wife
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