#he/him is neutral and not gendered in my head

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing The Kings to Your Plushies

me and my bestie have a joke about my faves showing up to my place for sex and i would not realize and just start talking about my plushies based on this dumb post we saw once, thought it'd be funny to turn into an actual scenario lol might do this for the other devils, angels, minhyeok if the ppl are interested lol notes: mildly sexual - not really anything deeply insane, gender neutral reader !!!

Satan

On one hand, he thinks you're really cute. On the other hand, he's here to fuck so.

He's going back and forth so much in his head for a moment he's not even paying attention to you talking oops.

Gets so frustrated and angered from trying to decide what to do it ultimately ends with him just jumping on you.

Cut you off mid word with an incredibly heat filled kiss from rage.

Honestly you might not even 100% be certain what happened but you're not complaining!! You can always talk about the rest of your plushies later!!!

Well. If Satan doesn't fuck you until the point you're resting for the next couple days.

Once he actually pays attention to you talking about them he'll remember some names here and there, but he will get them wrong on purpose to try and see you angry lol.

Mammon

The reality is he probably got you most of these plushies.

He adores seeing how you cherish them and the lore you've decided for them!!

Will remember every single detail you tell him about them!!

He thinks it's super cute and will humor you for the moment.

However, Mammon will get what he wants eventually. But for right now you're so adorable how could he tell you no?

He is DEFINITELY teasing you later once he does get to sleep with you about how cute you are.

This man lives to see you embarrassed and shy from his compliments.

Is probably buying you even MORE plushies now, hope you're prepared for that!

Leviathan

I think it depends at the point in your relationship, if it's early on he might just toss the plushies aside and get to the point of what he wants.

Later on I do think he genuinely listens, even if he's impatient and pretends like he doesn't care. If it's important to you he does care, just doesn't always show it.

Especially if you use the plushies as a form of comfort due to trauma or any other issues.

You won't even realize how much he paid attention until he refers to your plushies by their names if you accidentally leave them laying around.

However he does still get jealous so so easily so maybe try not to spend too much time at once focusing on them rather than him.

He tries so hard but eventually the jealousy will overtake him and he will just get straight to the sex.

For what it's worth, he still found you cute! He just can't help himself.

Beelzebub

I'm not gonna lie, you might be able to successfully distract him for a good bit.

Dude's invested in the names and lore and anything you have created for them!!! He likes hearing about it !!!!

He isn't gonna be able to remember every single bit of these details but he might remember some of it here and there. Either way he likes listening to how you talk about them!

That being said he can only sit still for so long so maybe introduce him a little at a time lmao.

Especially because once he DOES start to get distracted he's gonna remember the original reason he was here.

And well. Yeah just like that it's time to fuck!

Because you successfully distracted him for a bit you might be in store for an extra long session this time so! Good luck!

Lucifer

He listens fully. Wants to hear everything you have to say about them.

He finds the plushies super cute, so he enjoys listening to your ramblings, even if he had certain intentions when he arrived.

But most importantly, he's so endeared, you're so absolutely adorable to him. The way your face lights up when you talk about them, he can't get enough!!!!

So he lets you have your moment.

And when you're finally done is when he's actually gonna fuck you lol. Yeah, that was still happening he had a goal.

And if he's teasing you extra specially tonight, don't even worry about it (whether it be from compliments or degradation who's to say!! just know you're gonna be crying extra hard this time he's so worked up from how cute you are!).

Of course, he remembers every single detail you tell him, he has that shit committed to memory. Asks you questions sometimes to see that adorable look on your face again!

Belphegor

Goodnight.

He tries to pay attention but he's ready to fall asleep apologies.

He showed up for sex and when it wasn't happening his brain turned off.

That being said the second you realize he's asleep and start trying to wake him up he's on you!!

Like okay conversation done we're fucking now right?

It's just easier to give what he wants and lecture him in the process.

It's fine he tries to listen later. That being said if he invites Beleth to listen too don't worry about it. He totally didn't tell him to memorize details for him because he's probably gonna fall asleep again.

Asmodeus

Sorry there's just no way to distract this man from sex.

If he's showing up for sex he's here to for sex !!!!

And he WILL get it!!!

If anything he just starts fucking you while holding up the plushies to you and asking you details about them.

Unfortunately you're kinda too fucked out by that point to truly answer them.

He's a fucking menace apologies.

And he cannot be stopped I fear.

That being said any information he does manage to get out of you he does fully remember!!

It's his own weird way of showing affection, ya know?

[xlatrina]

Show Me

Tags: 16(+)* (*Minor kissing, nothing crazy fr), Gender Neutral Reader (despite canon), Words of Affirmation/Sweet Talk, basically fluff

Not proofread so… hopefully no typos or clunky sentences anywhere lol. Mr. Crawling is being “high-maintenance,” as always, lol. After playing this game for HOURS, I just couldn’t help but crave more content. Buuuutt, given that the game is more or less finished (as far as I understand), I simply had no other choice but to do as writers who play VNs do and WRITE. This is my first “Canon x Reader” fic (well, formally, at least) too, so… please be kind 😅 Anywho, enjoy!

$$$ $$$ $$$

Mr. Crawling leaps into your arms with such speed that the bed smacks into the wall. A shake travels through the room, jostling the single photo hanging from the gray, textured surface. His hair falls against your skin, the bed sinking in a bit as you feel his body drag over your own. Every breath that reaches your face is cool, no thanks to the room you’re in.

“I enjoy you,” He chirps. His head comes to rest in the crook of your neck. The smell of metal fills your nose, and you scowl for a moment before your face relaxes. It’s a smell you'll simply have to get used to, especially now that you’ve promised to be his.

His body ever so slightly warms yours, though the blankets do more of the work. “I enjoy you,” he says again. “You enjoy me?”

“I enjoy you, Mr. Crawling.” You loosely run a hand through his dark hair. Surprisingly, your fingers only get caught about twice, and the small knots aren’t too hard to pull apart.

“You lots enjoy me?” Suddenly, the cold draft flying through hits your neck as Mr. Crawling lifts his head. Though, you never see his eyes: only the growing festers that conveniently disappear right at his bangs. He tenses in your arms, and you’d think the air froze him or something if it weren’t for his soft, whistling breaths. Mustering up a little smile, you cup his face with your hands.

“I lots enjoy you.” He giggles like a little schoolgirl, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Show!” He shouts.

“Huh?”

“I enjoy you, you enjoy me. Am happy lots you come here. I lots enjoy you being together me. You say you lots enjoy me, Ϛօ show!” He bursts each sentence out right after the other, and the bed squeaks from his shifting body as his arms reach around your torso. Show… Ah, that’s what he meant. He wants you to prove it.

For a moment, you frown. How exactly were you supposed to “prove” something like that?

Noticing your face, Mr. Crawling frowns as well. “You ok? No want to do?”

You shake your head and smile reassuringly. “I want to do. I can show you.” This shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it’ll be easy… so long as Mr. Crawling doesn’t decide to use those sharp teeth of his.

Pulling him forward by his face, you two stare at each other. You focus on Mr. Crawling —first, his gaze, somewhere behind that curtain of hair, and then his lips. They’re ever so slightly purple, just like his cheeks that have become a little warmer while pressed against your palms.

Your eyelids lower as your lips graze his, the small sensation alone sending a shock throughout your body. Is Mr. Crawling feeling the same way? He’s tense all over again. “You ok?” You ask.

Quietly, he responds, “Am ok.”

You close your eyes, breathing in that slightly metallic smell. You exhale, and then pull Mr. Crawling firmly into your kiss. He remains stiff for a while until a muffled sound escapes him. His arms wrap around you tighter. He finally allows his body to fall limp against yours, and just as this happens, you pull back. A little smack bounces through the room. Lying upon your chest, Mr. Crawling drags himself a little closer to your face. Seizing the opportunity, one hand reaches to brush across his hair and the other remains on his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his face in slow, winding circles. Then, you pull his face even closer, catching him into a trap as you lock lips again. Both of you hum contentedly, the sound only accompanied by smacks and the fluorescent light buzzing above. Suckling his bottom lip, you tease him with a strong pull. He sighs into your kiss, and when you finally free him, he chases you.

“… Finished?” He asks. He seems to be pouting a little, already missing the sensation.

“Finished. You now know I enjoy you?” You ask. More or less: do you believe me now?

Mr. Crawling pauses, and then he giggles —much louder than before! He plops his head into the crook of your neck again.

“I know now,” he says. You bring your hand up to join the other in stroking his hair.

The two of you lie together this way for a while, enjoying the silence and the closeness. That is, until you eventually fall asleep and Mr. Crawling leaves your embrace to watch from afar.

[justkpopjokes]

SVT’s reaction to your first kiss

A/N: Whoops I took 6 years to write this,,, Thank you to my mutuals who pushed me to do this all those years ago 😂 Kept this all fluff!! Requests open btw ^^

Ft. gender-neutral!reader

Initiates the kiss first: S.Coups, Joshua, Jun, DK, Mingyu, The8, Dino

S.Coups

Wants the kiss to be perfect and overthinks it a bit because of that

Keeps staring at your lips in the moments leading up to it to the point where you call him out on it

…Which prompts him to finally go for it and lean in and kiss you

Holds your waist to keep you steady (thank goodness because your knees are weak all of a sudden)

Pulls back quickly, not wanting to overdo it, and checks that your reaction is good before kissing you again

Joshua

Is super romantic about it!

He’d def be the guy who waits to have your first kiss until he’s 100% sure you’re both ready

He plans to kiss you after a date and makes sure it’s in a good place!! It has to be an appropriate setting where there aren’t people around to gawk at you both

Asks you if he can kiss you when you’re sitting close to each other

Smiles as he pulls away, watching your reaction to make sure you liked it

Jun

Your first kiss happens before you’re even dating

You watch him kiss in his drama and joke that he looks like a bad kisser just to get on his nerves

He gets (playfully) upset with you like “excuseeee me? I’m a good kisser! I’ll kiss you to prove it!”

Acts out the kiss scene from his drama with you just to show you how good it is

Is all cocky afterward because you’re so flustered LMAO

DK

His first kiss with you is out of excitement! No planning whatsoever

One of you had just gotten some good news—I say one of you because it doesn’t matter who; either of you could have something good happen and he’d be equally ecstatic either way

You’re both jumping out of joy and he decides on a whim to grab your face and give you a big kiss

It’s dramatic and his eyes are in crescents as he smiles at you and your cute reaction

Hugs you tightly right after since he’s happy he got to kiss you

Mingyu

Would kiss you first unless you purposely try to beat him to it lmao

But most likely he kisses you first because every time you even think about kissing him, he makes himself taller to joke about it

As in, if he catches you both standing or sitting really close, he’ll say “heh. Seems like a perfect time to kiss” and puckers his lips before straightening his back so your faces aren’t that close anymore

So he totally catches you off guard when he says it again but actually kisses you this time

Slides his hand into your hair at the back of your head as he tries to deepen the kiss

The8

You get a little tipsy while drinking with him one evening and ask him to kiss you

He laughs and brushes it off at first, but later notices you keep staring at his lips longingly

Is a gentleman and asks you if you’d really like a kiss just to make sure you consent to it

Doesn’t kiss you unless he’s absolutely sure you’re just tipsy and not super drunk (he wants you to remember it)

It’s not necessarily deep, but it’s a long kiss; he wants to take his time with you

Dino

Wants to kiss you first and tries to be all suave about it

Is suspiciously nice to you beforehand to ensure you won’t reject him when he initiates it

Gets lost in your eyes right before he’s about to kiss you, which makes you realize what’s happening

Manages to man up enough to hold your chin and press his lips to yours

Gets gutsy and doesn’t pull away for a while, wanting to kiss you for as long as possible

Is kissed first: Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, Seungkwan, Vernon

Jeonghan

Your first kiss with him is unexpected for both of you lol

He is quite surprised when you turn his head to kiss him before he can leave from your date

You do it on impulse, so it’s short and he has no time to react during it

You stare at him after you pull away to see his reaction so he stares back at you in shock for a moment before a smile spreads on his face and he asks if you’d like another

Smiles against your lips :))

Hoshi

Blushes really hard before getting super excited

He’s been waiting for it!!!!

Gives you a lot of smaller pecks all over your face as he hugs you because he’s glad he finally can

He might kiss you deeply later, but honestly, he just wants to give you a lot of them first

Absolutely over the moon and brags about kissing you to the guys

Wonwoo

Has been meaning to kiss you for a little while, he just hasn’t found the right moment

So when you kiss him and interrupt him while he’s talking one evening, he freezes and doesn’t know how to react for a moment

Gets a little shy when you laugh at him about his reaction

But he quickly recovers and quietly pulls you in for another (longer) kiss

Thank goodness you’re in private right now because he doesn’t hold back now that you’ve started it!!

Woozi

Your first kiss with him is super casual

(In reality he’s trying to hide how flustered he is)

You’re leaving the studio and he tries to give you a hug goodbye when you gave him a quick kiss on the lips instead

He has kissed your head before, so you don’t really make this kiss a big deal

He smiles and gives you another kiss on the lips to really savour your lips before you leave

Seungkwan

Asks for a kiss in a joking way, not really expecting you to agree

His heart starts racing when you get close and hold his cheeks to give him a kiss

Has a bit of a loud reaction out of shock but ends up giggling about it as he holds your cheeks for another

Has that adorable blush on his face as you exchange kisses for a bit

Asks you for kisses all the time after that day

Vernon

Maybe I’m just projecting…I don’t think he would think about kisses much, so he’s flustered af when you do kiss him

His face goes beet red and he wants to hide when you suddenly kiss him while sort of in public

He liked it a little too much and has a silly reaction as he tries to brush off how embarrassed he is about his reaction

Pulls you into another kiss the moment you arrive at your place, saying he wants to redo it properly

Keeps your noses pressed together after and gives you a satisfied gummy smile

[wildechildwrites]

Promise

John Price/Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: lil bit of angst

No Use of Y/N

Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Your husband comes home unexpectedly with his team in tow

A/N: *Posts something* *Disappears for another four months*

AO3 Link: Promise

John’s posture visibly relaxes as he steps through the front door, knots in his shoulders unraveling as he rounds the corner and spots you. The sun’s setting, golden rays filtering through the kitchen window, wrapping everything in a warm glow. You’re stirring a pot on the stove, humming to yourself, and as you turn to look at him, lips curving softly, John murmurs a hello, voice reverent with poignant adoration.

Your bright eyes flick from his to the three curious pairs behind him, and you click your tongue in disapproval. “John, if you'd called ahead, I could've ensured I made enough for your guests.”

“They're not staying long, love, just–”

“Oh, nonsense,” you cut him off, waving your hand as if to brush away the thought, tone authoritative. “You sort your business, and I'll see what can be done to stretch the meal. Honestly John, what kind of first impression is that; me turning out your boys without dinner?”

You cross the warmly lit kitchen and give him a quick peck on the cheek before introducing yourself to his companions, a bright smile on your face. Soap hasn't quite managed to pick his jaw off the floor, so Ghost leans over and shuts it for him. Gaz smiles back at you, recovering from his shock with more ease as he extends a hand to you.

“I'm Kyle,” he says keenly, and the stormy face of his captain, standing just out of your eye line, makes him quickly drop your hand. “The boys call me Gaz.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Gaz.” You reply, genuine warmth threading through your voice before you turn towards the two other men. “You must be Ghost and Soap.”

“Aye,” Soap replies after a beat, “Price never mentioned he had a…” he trails off awkwardly, and Ghost smacks the back of his head. You laugh lightly, not having to look at your husband to feel the glare he’s shooting his soldiers.

You reach your hand towards John, and he tangles his fingers in yours automatically, pulling you towards him. You give him a playful smile before turning back towards his boys. “He’s a big advocate of separating work from home. Won’t even let me call him Captain.”

The suggestive lilt in your voice makes the men duck their heads, and you turn to John, watching the tips of his ears turn pink with barely concealed glee.

“We’ll be in my study,” he grumbles.

The men can hear your laughter ringing as they head down the hall.

You can’t help the thread of anxiety twisting low in your stomach as you add more broth to the soup you’re making. The less you know, the better, but the unexpected presence of John’s entire team sits poorly with you. He didn’t even send you a warning text, entirely out of character, exacerbating your unease. Muffled voices filter through the walls, and you try to distract yourself, curbing your instinct to eavesdrop. The soup is simmering on the stove, so you go to the pantry and grab a box of brownie mix and a bag of chocolate chips, quickly mixing all the ingredients together and popping the pan in the oven.

You’re licking brownie batter off the spatula when John comes back into the kitchen, and you can tell by the expression on his face that you’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. He takes large, quick strides towards you, and you manage to toss the spatula in the sink before he sweeps you into his wide arms, tugging you to his chest in a tight embrace. You inhale as deeply as you can, pulling the familiar scent of him into your lungs.

“I’ve got to go out of town.” He finally says gravely. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you until what needs to be done is done.”

There’s a high price to being married to a military man. John’s gone more often than he’s not, and when he does slink back home to you, it’s always with new scars and fresh nightmares, things that weigh on him in a way you’ll never be able to comprehend.

You know, with a sort of inevitable finality, that John won’t get to retire. It’s not in his nature, and no matter how much he loves you; he loves the job more. He’ll come home in a box one day, and every time he leaves, you have to accept it might be the last time you’ll see him.

Unwanted tears gather in the corners of your eyes, and you give yourself a moment, face pressed against John’s chest, willing yourself to be strong. Your voice is muffled when you finally speak, unwilling to pull away from the comfort of his arms.

“There’s a go bag full of clean clothes in our closet. When do you need to leave?”

John squeezes you tighter against him, burying his nose in your hair. His heartbeat is loud in your ears, steady as always.

“We’ll stay for dinner, but we’ll be leaving tonight. I’m so sorry, love.”

You dance around each other like it’s a normal night, basking in the warmth of the oven and his company, choosing to ignore the tug at your heart strings, the quiet sounds of his team filtering through the wall. You can feel his watchful eyes on you while you fill the bowls with generous scoops, but you pretend not to notice, humming to yourself with a cheer you don’t feel.

The timer on the oven dings, and you pull away, quickly turning so John can’t see the redness in your eyes. You know what you signed up for, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“I was going to make some grilled cheese to go with the soup, will you get them started?”

The silverware clinks merrily, the living room filled with the sound of quiet chatter. The table hasn’t been this crowded since two years ago, when you convinced your sister to come for a visit. She’d brought her little ones, and John had doted on them, acting so soft and attentive, making you absolutely melt. You see echoes of that same care in his interactions with his men, hidden beneath an artificial shell of severity.

“This migh’ just be the best soup I’ve ever tasted,” Soap pipes up, elbows tucked uncomfortably to avoid jostling Gaz, “I’da kept you a secret too, with cooking like this.”

“Johnny.” John’s voice is a hard warning, but he betrays himself with the slightest curve of a smile beneath his whiskers, a spark of pride in his eyes.

“There’s some soup left on the stove, if you boys are still hungry.” You smile. “And I’ve got brownies for dessert.”

The appreciative noise Soap makes borders on obscene. “Dinner and dessert? Do ya’ want another husband?”

The thud of John’s boot connecting with his Sergeant’s shin echoes through the room, and you try and fail to stifle a snort. Gaz quirks his eyebrow at you, humor dancing in his expression, and you let out a giggle before slapping your hand over your mouth self-consciously.

“Apologies.” Ghost pipes up dryly, inclining his head towards Soap. “We don’t have ‘im house trained yet.”

You let out another laugh. “It's alright, I'm still working on John.” The boys laugh, and your husband shoots you a look.

“You’re fostering insubordination, love.” He says gruffly, and you smile sweetly at him, grabbing his hand under the table and giving it a tight squeeze.

The men eat fast, faster than you’d like them to, the meal ending too quickly. Ghost and Soap clear the table, cracking dad jokes that make you roll your eyes good-naturedly, and Gaz plants himself solidly in front of the sink, ignoring your protests.

“Let me do the dishes,” he says stubbornly, an immovable brick wall, ignoring your attempts to shove him out of the way. “My mum would have a fit if she knew somebody cooked for me and I didn’t do the washing up.”

“I’m not going to discourage his good manners; he rarely gets to put ‘em to use. Come and sit with me for a minute.”

John’s leaning against the kitchen door frame, his warm eyes crinkled with amusement at the scene in front of him. You whirl around with a grumpy look.

“John, order him to let me take care of it,” you command, pointing at Gaz, and your husband just laughs, reaching out to grab your hand.

He leads you away from the bustle of the kitchen to his study, shutting the door behind him. His normally pristine desk is strewn with papers and maps, and you try and fail not to look too much, wondering what’s in Mexico that could need such urgent attention. John sits in the wide leather chair behind the desk and pulls you into his lap, burying his nose into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin. You both inhale deeply, folding into each other.

The silence is heavy. You’re too aware of the ticking clock, the inevitable goodbye. You’ve barely had him for a few hours, and then you’ll be alone again, in this house designed for the two of you, constantly listening for the familiar sound of footsteps, desperately waiting for the phone to ring.

“You know, love,” John murmurs, “If anything were to happen to me, the boys would make sure you're looked after. Kate too.” He pulls back to look at you, his expression earnest. “Made them swear to it.” Your stomach drops like a rock, the tears you’ve been fighting all night rising back to the surface. John's thoughts have been in the same place as yours, lingering on realities best left unacknowledged.

You choke around the lump in your throat. “I don’t need anyone looking after me. I just need you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him. “Just come back home, John.” Your bottom lip wobbles, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, and he sighs mournfully.

“None of that, love. You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“Just–” you cut yourself off to smother a sob. “Just promise me you’ll always come home.” You want to beg him to stay, beg him to never leave you again, but you know he has to go. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be the man you married. You’ll settle for an unsustainable guarantee, worthless words with no force behind them. Your wedding ring sits heavy on your finger, a noose around your neck.

The lie sours in the air between you.

John’s gaze is melancholy. His thumb gently brushes away the tears making their way down your cheek, and he leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips.

“I promise. Always.”

You walk the boys to the door, making sure they’ve got everything they need, slipping the last brownie to Soap when no one else is looking. You give your husband a tight hug, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek before turning towards his men.

“It was nice to meet you all.” Your face is blotchy from your earlier tears, eyes still rimmed with red, but you smile as sincerely as you can.

Gaz reaches his hand out. “It was a pleasure. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious.”

You ignore the offered palm and pull him in for a hug, hoping it’s not overly familiar. The way Gaz relaxes into your arms tells you he needs it, and you give him an extra squeeze before pulling back. “You’re all welcome anytime you want a home cooked meal.”

When you turn to Soap, he sweeps you into his arms eagerly, crushing you tight enough against him to draw a strangled squeak from your lungs. “You’re a dead brilliant cook,” he says, voice oozing sincerity, “Price’ll have ta beat me out the door with a broom.”

“Johnny.” Your husband’s warning tone is enough for Soap to release you, grinning cheekily. You shoot John a reassuring look before turning towards your last guest.

Ghost eyes you warily, his posture unnaturally stiff. You open your arms slightly, tilting your head, a silent offering. There’s a beat, and then Ghost steps into the hug with the faux indifference of a moody teenager, throwing one arm carelessly over your shoulder. You have to stifle your urge to laugh. “Be safe,” you say softly, and there’s a shock of warmth in his icy stare even as he grunts noncommittally.

You’re plunged into empty silence when the men file out of the house. You watch them get into their cars, a bitter taste in your mouth. John turns to look back at you, saying something you can’t hear to his men before running back, slamming the front door behind him firmly. Your heart leaps.

“Forgot something,” he says, and grabs you, pulling you in for a searing kiss. You melt together, lips parting against his, arms automatically reaching up around his neck. He pulls back, and you tighten your grip around him.

“I love you,” it’s a desperate plea, an impossible ask.

“I love you, too.” John says, and his eyes slide to the door, strong fingers untangling himself from your hold.

When he leaves, he takes the warmth with him.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?

⊱ Connection ⊰ || Mr. Gap X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Gap (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Return End), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms (Reader briefly uses physical pain to distract themselves from their emotional discomfort; they also sleep to avoid their emotions), Creature/Monster X Human Relationship (Mr. Gap doesn’t fully comprehend or understand the concept of love the way that humans do, but that’s a barrier for, like… the majority of the cast haha). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Slight Angst, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,685 Request: “Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?” Author’s Note: Yipee, my first Homicipher request! Thank you for sending one in! I find Mr. Gap’s character quite entertaining – I loved the running gag of him asking the MC for different parts of their body and being like “for real?” whenever you said no. I found his desire to brag to be quite endearing, too, strangely enough. A lot of the moments that had me chuckling involved Mr. Gap, so I’m somewhat fond of his character as a result. I haven’t written any horror-meets-romance stories since my Creepypasta days, so I apologize if this is a little rough or OOC. I’m still trying to finish the game and digest all the lore haha. 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Living within the other world had become your new normal at this point, even if you spent most of your days curled under the covers of whatever bed you could find. You slept whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t necessarily because you were tired, but rather a desire to keep your mind from wandering too much. You still found the occasional earthquakes and frequently shifting dimly-lit hallways confusing to traverse at best or frustrating to deal with at worst, but you hoped you would slowly grow to get used to them with more time. 

You run your hands down your face as you lay on the strangely pristine white bed, staring down at the blue bag that rested by your feet on the floor. For whatever reason, there was a strange feeling of loneliness that was deep-seated in your chest. It was a weight pulling you down, and it was one that had lingered for quite some time now. 

When you returned to the other world, you realized that you would most likely never be able to see Mr. Silvair or Mr. Crawling again. Despite telling yourself it was fine, that life was all about encounters and departures, that horrendous emptiness in your heart hadn’t diminished yet. 

You remember when Mr. Gap brought you back to the other world in exchange for a heart – your mind is conflicted when you think about the organ you had given him, a heart that wasn’t yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to think about it for longer than you need to. 

You try to remember his hand reaching out from the dark void of the bag after arriving in the strange world once more. You remember the way his cold palm felt against your scalp, lightly patting your hair in a way you thought was meant to be comforting… only for him to state he wanted your head with that jokester-esque grin of his. 

You chuckle quietly to yourself at the memory of the expression that crossed his face whenever you told him that, no, he’s not allowed to take your fingers or whatever else seems to pique his interest at the moment. Then, your mind remembers the look on his face when you asked if he was worried about you. Mr. Gap didn’t seem as though he was capable of experiencing emotions the way that most humans were, but, well… it was someone to talk to, at least, even if you run the risk of him asking for an organ or body part or hair. What did he even do with that stuff, anyway? 

Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes fall to the bag on the floor. He really only appeared whenever he wanted, but maybe you could see if he was in the mood to at least startle you as he so often enjoyed doing. With a deep breath, you reach down and grab the bag by its black straps, feeling the somewhat rough fabric against your palms. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, per se, but it was a reminder that at least you could still feel. 

You open the carrier, and the only thing that greets you is that inky blackness. You briefly wonder if it was an infinite darkness held within the unassuming gym bag, and what would happen if you just threw random things inside for the fun of it. However, as you stare into the void, a familiar face pops into view, effectively startling you out of your trance. 

Mr. Gap smiles even wider at your reaction, seemingly proud of himself for still managing to startle you. You’d think that you would be more immune to jumpscares after spending so much time in the other world, but apparently not. 

“Scared you.” Mr. Gap speaks proudly, the language you had slowly been absorbing over your journey becoming easier and easier to decipher and remember. That was good at least, you thought. It would be far too difficult to live in a place where you couldn’t even understand what everyone was saying. 

You roll your eyes at him, speaking under your breath but loud enough so he could hear your muttering, “You’re rude, you know that?”

He stares up at you with an unimpressed expression, waiting for you to speak again. Eventually, you tell him with a frown, speaking to him in a language he understood, “You mean.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, yet he seemingly did not take any offense to your comment. Then, his gaze returns to your face, and you two simply stare at each other in a prolonged silence. Well, now what? How exactly do you explain to a creature that you were lonely when they probably couldn’t even empathize with what you were experiencing? Did you even know the word for lonely in their language, if there was one?

“I, umm…” You pause, taking a moment to try and figure out the words to say, averting your gaze to a crack in the concrete flooring of the room you had made into your makeshift home. Mr. Gap is surprisingly patient, staring up at you while your hands begin to fidget with the textured straps of the bag. You look back down at him and say, your voice is surprisingly soft, “I upset. Want talk.”

Then, almost as if on cue, he smiles and reaches a hand out of the bag, making a grabbing motion as he asks, “Give heart?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure what else you were expecting, and now you felt like an idiot for expecting literally anything else to come out of his mouth. You frown deeply and quickly zip up the bag, disregarding the shocked expression on his face at the action, before tossing it on the floor without a second thought. You let out a groan, clawing your hands down your face while trying to ignore the stinging sensation your nails left in their wake across your skin.

At least the pain raking across your flesh was a distraction from the ache in your chest. 

You decide, once more, to take a nap. Whenever your mind was racing or the thoughts became too much to bear, you slept. Honestly, there wasn’t much else you could do here. After all, you weren’t in the mood to go around swinging at anything and everything with your crowbar, especially since you had vowed to only use it in self-defense. This world was your home now, and you didn’t want to make enemies who would, in return, only make your existence more miserable. 

You close your eyes and attempt to drift off into the world of dreams, a place that wasn’t this world nor the one you came from, yet your attention is grabbed by the feeling of something shifting under the covers. Your eyes fly open faster than light as your fist grabs the thick comforter, lifting it quickly while your other hand went to grab the crowbar you kept by your bedside. 

However, Mr. Gap’s face comes into view, and your hand pauses as soon as your fingers graze across the rusted metal of your weapon. You frown deeply and tell him with a sternness in your tone, “I told you to stop doing that – I’m going to accidentally kill you one of these days.”

“Why upset?” He asks you suddenly, and it’s a question that has your mind stopped in its tracks. You hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon, let alone ask you a question like that. For a moment, you wonder if he was worried about you, only for the memory of the last time you asked him that question to pop into your head. 

You lay there, staring at the darkness under the covers, debating on whether or not you should tell him your true feelings. After some moment of contemplation, you decide to try and speak with him about what you have been experiencing. After all, the worst thing that would probably happen is him asking for your heart again or something. 

“I…” You start, pausing for a moment to swallow, your tongue strangely heavy in your mouth, “No home. I lonely.”

Mr. Gap’s brows furrow and he states plainly, “This home.”

Just as you thought, he didn’t understand. If anything, your statement only seemed to confuse him further. His expression was also different, one you hadn’t quite seen on him before. You had seen him shocked, smug, and displeased, but the look on his face appeared almost… frustrated? 

You begin to try and snake your way out from under the covers, feeling like going on a walk now instead of trying to take a nap. However, the room suddenly goes dark as Mr. Gap pulls you back under the sheets, covering your entire body in the surprisingly soft duvet. For a moment, you feel panic swell in your veins and you wonder if something you had said upset him to the point of wanting to kill you. However, no pain ever came. You just heard his voice state once more, “This home.”

“No, I know it’s my home now, I just…” You speak, your mind going through word after word, attempting to translate what you want to tell him in his language. It was a little unnerving, being unable to see anything in the darkness that now enveloped your body. You pushed that anxiety aside, though, telling Mr. Gap, “I… miss touch. Miss connection. This world different – lonely.” 

There’s once again no reply, and soon the feeling of another under the sheets disappears. You let out a long sigh as you remove yourself from under the covers, Mr. Gap no longer under the blanket with you. You take a moment to compose yourself before standing up from the bed and grabbing your reliable crowbar – it was walking time.

You walked and walked in circles until your legs felt ready to collapse, returning to your makeshift base after what seemed like hours. You fell face-first onto the bed, your crowbar slipping from your hand to the concrete floor with a loud clatter; you probably would have cringed at the noise if not for the exhaustion in your bones. There’s a long stretch of silence, and you feel sleep start to creep into your mind, when a simple “Hello” snaps you out of your stupor. 

You turn your head from where it was nuzzled into a pillow to look down at the bag you had tossed to the floor earlier, seeing Mr. Gap peeking up at you from inside. You wonder if you should say anything back before eventually relenting, echoing to him the same greeting. 

There’s a shuffling noise, the sound of paper being crinkled before you watch as he pulls out what appears to be a magazine, holding it out for you to take. You sit up in the bed and look down at him with a blank expression, saying with your lips pulled into a flat line, “No head. No finger. No heart–”

“Not want anything.” He replies, effectively cutting you off as he holds out the magazine closer to you. It seems as though he can read the expression of pure disbelief on your face before he clarifies, “Take paper. You have.”

Despite some reservations, you eventually do reach out and take the small book from his grasp, whispering your thanks. It’s a relatively new magazine, surprisingly, and only the edges of the glossy paper seemed crinkled. You flip through the pages, wondering what information you were supposed to be deriving from the book. After all, it didn’t seem like anything special–...

Then, a picture of two people hugging appeared. Two humans, holding each other in a tight embrace with bright and happy smiles on their faces. One was kissing the other’s cheek, and the mere sight alone caused your breath to hitch. Oh, it seemed like ages since the last time you felt the level of comfort with another like the people in the picture, and there was a part of yourself that regretted coming back. It wasn’t like you belonged in your world anymore, either… you really were a monster with nowhere to call home, weren’t you?

“Why upset?” Mr. Gap asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. You look down at him and wonder how he knew you were hurting. Then, you heard the sound of something hitting the pages of the magazine in your hand. Your gaze returns to the book below you, noticing the water droplets that had fallen down your cheeks and onto the magazine, causing the ink on the paper to bleed slightly. You quickly wipe your face yet, before you can do anything else, two arms wrap around your waist and your body is once again shrouded in the darkness under the covers as Mr. Gap pulls you under.

His body is cold to the touch, you note, yet it’s not an unpleasant sensation. Before you have the chance to speak, you hear Mr. Gap tapping the page of the magazine in your hand, asking you quietly, “You want that? Touch?”

“Do I… want a hug?” You ask him, wishing you had the ability to see in the dark. You hum and lay your head back, enjoying the softness of the pillow underneath your skull, “I want good touch.”

You close your eyes and wait, expecting Mr. Gap to ask for something in return or simply disappear… but he doesn’t, and you find your eyes flying open when you feel his arms wrap around your torso. His touch was experimental, uncertain as his palms rested against your lower back. His head is resting on your stomach and although you cannot see him, you know he is staring at your face through the darkness. 

You suddenly find yourself becoming choked up, the tears forming in your eyes as your arms instinctively wrap around him as well, holding him close to your body like one would hold a stuffed toy. Mr. Gap makes a strangled noise, yet you don’t let up on your hold. You sit up on the bed, dragging him along with you, before nuzzling your face into what you assumed was his neck. 

He’s completely frozen, his hold on you never once faltering yet never once tightening, either. A part of you wonders if you broke him or something, especially considering he had never really been the physically affectionate type. You both sit like this under the covers for a long time, and you eventually feel his body and muscles relax under your touch. 

While the ache in your chest wasn’t gone, it had definitely diminished as you both held onto each other with a tinge of desperation in both of your actions. You let out a sigh, and you feel Mr. Gap shiver as your warm breath fans against his cold skin. The dried tear stains on your cheeks made your skin feel tight, but you smiled nevertheless as you whispered to him, “Thank you. I grateful – happy.”

Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek in your palm as you slowly guide his face to yours. Oh, how you wish you could have seen his expression as you placed a kiss on his cheek, your slightly chapped lips pressing against his marred flesh. You feel him jolt, and you wonder if he’ll disappear right then and there. He doesn’t though, and instead, you feel his hands remove themselves from your hips to hold your face in his grasp. 

Instinctively, you close your eyes, and you feel the slight tremble in his fingers as he leans closer. You smile softly, finding his nervous demeanor to be quite cute considering how smug he tended to be. Then, you felt it, his lips against your cheek. 

Mr. Gap’s lips were in even worse shape than yours, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as he placed shockingly gentle kisses against the apple of your cheek. You giggle at the sweet action, the noise of your laughter egging him on as his kisses become more confident and more frequent. You do the same, placing feather-light kisses against his skin, whispering to him as you pepper his face in smooches, “Happy, happy, happy...”

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Reader: Garage Service

Bumblebee x reader, gender neutral AFAB, racially ambiguous, blow jobs, eating Bumblebee out, cock worship, edging, Bumblebee has had enough and fucks reader

“Shit! It’s yours! No one is gonna take it from you!” Bumblebee whined. He sat in your garage with his legs spread. You worked up his valve with your hand firmly around his spike. Your lips wandered over his exterior node up past his puffy lips and to the base of his spike.

You had been working Bee up for what felt like hours. His chubby spike leaking into your hand as you edged him. You shoved his spike as far as it could go into your mouth making Bumblebee hiss and grab the back of your head trying to pull you off. “Don’t hurt yourself on it!” He pulled you off his spike with a wet pop. Bee panted seeing your dazed lovestruck look as a string of your spit still connected you to his spike. “I don’t want to have to explain to Dorothy or Optimus why I had to take you to the hospital for a ripped up throat.”

You only smiled back at Bumblebee making his yellow faceplate flush blue as he tried not to smile back. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolded pressing his dermas into a thin line. You only laughed at how hard he was holding a smile back which ended up breaking him. He couldn’t help the snort and smile that popped out of him.

“Dumbass,” he chided playfully. “You act like I’ve never spiked you down.” He released his grip on you but still kept his servo on the back of your head to stroke at your hair. “It’s your fault,” you teased rubbing your hand up his chubby spike. You couldn’t wrap your fingers fully around his girth even if you tried.

“Oh? How is it my fault?” Bee tried to keep his cool with your soft hand teasing up his cock.

You smeared his transfluid around his tip with your thumb. “You go around looking like this. Big broad chasis and cute face,” you purred giving Bee’s spike a kiss. “I’m insatiable around you. Maybe if you weren’t so handsome I wouldn’t be so horny.”

Bee swore under his breath at your praise. He bucked his hips into your hand as you licked down the length of his massive girth. “You’re so big too,” you moaned leaving wet open mouth kisses along his length. “I wish I could just live on your spike. I feel so empty when you’re not inside me.”

Bumblebee couldn’t help the way he whined your name. If he was being honest he’d go through the whole war once again just to have his spike buried in your warm pussy. “Then-“ Bee swore when you started sucking at his tip. “Then why don’t you hop on already?”

You released his spike slowly letting him feel your lips slide off of his spike. “Because you taste so good,” you teased giving Bee a dramatic lick up his valve. He gasped feeling his hole pulse around nothing. “You taste so sweet,” you moaned into his valve as you wrapped your lips around his exterior node. “Just let me love on you, okay?” Your words were muffled by his puffy and pulsating valve. His juices leaked around your face as you suckled on his node. His vents were working overtime trying to keep his frame cool.

How was he supposed to stay calm while you worked both his spike and valve like this? “Mmm,” you moaned placing open mouth kisses over his cunt. Bumblebee could feel his overload nearing. Your talented lips worked him so well he could hardly contain the slew of praise that dripped from his mouth.

He was so close then you pulled away.

From your nose to your chin was covered in his slick. You licked around your lips with your eyes trained on his pulsating valve.

“Fuck!” Bee ran his servos up his faceplate. “Fuck! I was so close!”

You smiled giving a lick to his node making his hips twitch in response. “I know.”

“You know what,” Bee huffed as he dragged his servos down his faceplate. His optic ridge was furrowed in a scowl. He grabbed you by your sides lifting you up so you were on his lap. You let out a startled noise at being handled so aggressively. “I’m sick of you being a brat right now.”

His servos grabbed the fabric of your jeans around your rear and tore them like they were tissue paper. You gasped and were about to scold Bumblebee but the way he angled his spike up against your cunt through your underwear made you lurch into his chasis.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Bumblebee grumbled as he ripped through your underwear as well. He pushed the head of his spike against your leaking hole. “I’m going to take what I want and I don’t want any lip service from you, okay?”

You nodded eagerly excited to have Bumblebee be so rough with you. He jammed you down onto his spike in a harsh thrust. His servos remained steady on your hips to keep you from moving. You winced and cried out feeling your cunt be forced to stretch around something so wide. “You feel so good,” Bumblebee moaned guiding your hips up then pushing them back down onto his spike. You panted as you held onto to Bee’s chasis for dear life as he punished your sopping hole with his cock.

“Babe,” he moaned grabbing your attention. You looked up only to have your lips pulled into a sweltering kiss by Bumblebee. His much larger dermas moved against your soft lips. He moaned into your mouth as he bounced you up and down on his chubby spike. His glossa pushed past your lips moving into your mouth. His much larger robotic tongue swirled around your panting mouth taking in the taste of your spit.

Your body was at his mercy and he showed little with how he thrusted into you. Your rear started to sting from making sharp and fast contact with his metal plating. The wet clapping of your bodies joining together was the only thing that could be heard echoing off the garage walls.

Bee pulled away from your mouth only to move down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses and sucking on the skin there. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling overwhelmed by the sensations Bumblebee gave you. You yelped when you felt him bite at your neck hard enough to leave a mark.

“Bee!” You cried grabbing onto his horns. He only chuckled into your neck kissing around where he bit you. You moaned feeling his glossa lick up your neck and to your cheek. “Hey, gotta mark what’s mine right?” Bee teased breathlessly. You rubbed at his horns making Bee’s thrusts sputter. “Wanna overload in you,” he moaned into the side of your face. “Wanna see you leaking my transfluid.”

You nodded eagerly bouncing in his grip as he brought your hips up and down to meet his thrusts. “Gonna fucking paint that valve,” Bumblebee groaned feeling his orgasm spreading through his abdomen. “You’re gonna be leaking for days!” He winced shoving you to the base of his spike as he released deep inside of you. You felt his hot flow of transfluid empty into your vagina and womb. Driblets leaked around where he plugged your hole with his spike staining your ripped jeans with his overload.

“Fuck,” Bee huffed giving you one last thrust. You furrowed your brows hearing your body squelch from his movement. “That was so good.” Be grabbed your hips to lift you off his spike but your loud whine stopped him. “No! Let me stay on you longer,” you begged rubbing your clit between your fingers. Bumblee swore under his breath seeing how your slick mixed with his overload. “Yeah? You want to keep me warm?”

You nodded using the mixture of cum to toy with your swollen clit. “I wanna cum with you in me,” you begged bouncing your hips slightly. Bumblebee swore feeling his spike moving inside your greedy cunt once again. “Fuck, take whatever you need, babe,” Bumblebee hissed.

He kept a servo on your lower back as he leaned backwards on his other hand. You rubbed at your pussy desperately as you bounced on Bumblebee’s lap. “You stretch me out so good!” You moaned. Your bodies made a wet clapping sound with every movement of your hips. Bumblebee gripped your rear in his servo. “Yeah? Biggest you’ve ever had?” Bumblebee couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his chest.

“Huge!” You cried humping your hand. “Be careful,” Bumblebee teased feeling the energon swell to his spike once again. “I might tear that little hole apart if you keep talking like that.” You whined flipping your head back. “Please! Tear me apart with your cock!”

Bumblebee was dumbfounded by your desperation. His shocked expression turned to one of smug pleasure. “Nah,” he teased. “I think I like how you look bouncing on my spike. If you can overload like this I might consider fucking you again.”

You huffed wanting to wipe that smug grin off his face. He knew how desperate he made you and you hated when he used that against you. You gasped when he bucked up into your cunt. “Come on then,” he smirked. “I don’t have all day.”

You looked up at Bumblebee with your eyebrows furrowed as you bounced on his lap. Your fingers worked your clit quickly and frantically like you’d die without the stimulation. “There’s my sweet spark,” Bee teased while fondling your ass. “Keep going just like that.” You gripped onto his chasis with your other hand for support as you picked up your hips to slam back down onto his lap. Bee panted feeling your sloppy cunt slap back down onto his pelvis with a wet sticky noise. Your movement became sporadic as your orgasm neared. His spike pulsed eagerly inside you as your walls hugged every inch of him. You chanted his name under your breath as that knot in your abdomen snapped.

Your fingers frantically rubbed your clit as you came around his spike. Your walls fluttering and squeezing him until he groaned your name. “Good,” he praised breathlessly. “So good for me.” You nodded riding out your orgasm until your hips twitched trying to move away from the torturous electric pleasure your fingers brought upon your clit. “I love you,” you panted pulling your wet fingers out of your cunt.

Bumblebee was sure to support your tired body as his other servo guided your hand to his intake. “I love you too,” he said placing kisses along your wet fingers before licking your orgasm off of them with his glossa. “I love you so much.”

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Petname Headcanons: Valentino DLC

It was requested that I do some petname headcanons for Valentino, and I strangely got inspired for it? Breaking him off into his own post because I know his existence is triggering to some people.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This post contains alot of Spanish. General translation is in brackets by the first use of the word. But if you want a more detailed translation, go to end of the post.

Original petname post can be found >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; talks about what yall like to be called during sex; Valentino has mean cuteness aggression (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Valentino ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Valentino puts his ""relationships"" into two categories; people who are roughly on equal ground with him (Vox), and people who he owns (Angel Dust). Yes, while Angel Dust may be Valentino's favorite, he still falls into the latter category. He is still something Valentino owns at the end of the day.

Its like a child with a toy. Valentino doesn't mind other people playing with, or even borrowing his toys. As long as he gets them back. They are his toys after all.

But you. Your different. Valentino doesn't know what it is about you thats broken out of the two categories and defined yourself as something special in his head. He just knows that you've done it.

Valentino tends to use Spanish petnames for you. It just feels more... natural and appropriate to him to refer to you in his mother tongue because of the special place in his life you've carved out. He can't really explain it. He just goes by vibes.

Valentino never uses your name. Your always bebé [baby]. It sounds so nice, dripping from his mouth in his natural accent.

Other then bebé, the names Valentino uses most for you are mi todo [my everything] and mi vida [my life]. He uses these just to switch things up, whenever he is saying goodbye, or when he needs something.

Its cute on one hand because whenever you leave his studio, Valentino boops you on the nose and tells you to "be careful, mi vida." But on the other hand, some people have mistook them for your actual name because Valentino will legit be across the building then start shouting "MI VIDAAA!!" looking for you.

If you are doing something Valentino finds adorable, or he is just getting a wave of cuteness aggression (be forewarned, Valentino is VERY prone to cuteness aggression), he will start calling you cosita [little thing] or chiquitin/chiquitina [small one]. He tends to say it with a cute baby voice too.

He WILL call you these no matter your actual size by the way. It doesn't matter if you are the same size as him, or on the off chance, even bigger. If anything, your large size makes the whole thing funnier to Valentino and his cuteness aggression worse. He will pull you into his lap, start smooshing your face, all while talking to you in a baby voice no matter what size you are.

What You Call Him

Valentino is surprisingly pretty chill on petnames. He just has one major rule:

Don't EVER use his full name. Unless you are actually dying or something. You can get away with a 'Val' if you need his attention right away or its something super urgent. But he will still give you a dirty look. As far as Valentino is concerned, his name is completely off limits to you.

It surprisingly is less a matter of control and more a matter of; Valentino is what his clients, co-workers, you know, the other people call him. Your different. You don't call him that. Your not Vox, or hell, even Angel. Valentino is different to you. Don't dismiss him like this is just any other relationship.

Other then that, he doesn't care TOO much. Even if you start calling him something particularly cutesy or sappy like honey or sweetie, he will just laugh, pinch your nose, and say, "if thats what you think, cosita."

However, the names that I think suit Valentino best and that he would actually like are playful petnames. Call him something like Cassanova or Adonis to poke at his whole 'handsome pimp' image. Or something along the lines of squish and main squeeze for just how much he likes to SQUISH you.

I also feel like the name lovebug in particular would get to him. Valentino does that faux annoyed thing where he rolls his eyes everytime you say it, but he never actually complains. You can tell he really does like it by how he can't help but grin when you say it.

NSFW Section

Not that he is subtle, but you can always tell when Valentino is ready to jump you because he will start calling you muñeco/muñeca [doll/toy]. Thats his favorite name for you in the bedroom. Your his beautiful doll and your all his.

If you are being bratty or want to dom him, Valentino will chuckle and start calling you príncipe/princesa [prince/princess] as he puts you back in your place. If he is in a particularly good mood, Valentino might lay back and let you take control for a bit while goading you. "Is that all you can do, mi princesa?"

Goes feral if you call him something in his native tongue. Its an easy way to get him to fuck you on the spot. If he calls you mi vida and you throw a mi vida right back at him, Valentino just starts chuckling as he yanks you back into the bedroom, his cock already rock hard.

Or you can throw a surprise mi amor [my love] at him during one of his shoots. Valentino doesnt even wait. He just pulls you into his lap and starts fucking you right there in the directors chair. Valentino will be using one hand to shove his fingers in your mouth so you arent too loud and ruin the shoot. Meanwhile his mouth keeps vacillating between licking up the expanse of your neck and barking orders at his actors.

Loves it when you call him sweet things like babe or darling while he is absolutely railing you. The contrast between what he is actually doing and what your saying does something to him and makes him want to fuck you even harder.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Spanish Translations ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Bebé - Baby

Mi todo - Slang. A very common petname that roughly translates to 'you are my world' or 'my everything'.

Mi vida - Directly translates to 'my life'. But some Spanish communities use it more casually; like the way Southern women say dear or sweetheart.

Cosita - Directly translates to 'little thing'. But the -ita suffix means one finds them particularly cute. So a more accurate translation might be 'cute little thing'.

Chiquitin/Chiquitina - Little one, small one, or tiny one. Used to detonate one who is very small and very cute.

Muñeco/Muñeca - Direct translation is doll/toy. But its more affectionate in actual use. The English equivalent would be something more like 'baby doll'

Príncipe/Princesa - Directly translates to prince/princess. But can be used for any member of a royal family (of the gender used). They specifically detonate affection and imply ethereal beauty. For example, you can use princesa when referring to a queen, but in this context its either informal and affectionate or saying the queen is too pretty to be queen.

Mi amor - My love

[admiral-mason]

The Dragon, the Diver, and the Deep Sea

Abyssrium version 2: electric boogaloo because I forgot that Neuvillette and Freminet existed lmao

Only headcanons here though because I suck ass writing for these two lmao

Also this isn't related to Kokomi's, if anyone wants a part 2 to that then lemme know in the comments

Reader is Gender Neutral

This is normal SAGAU because so far most of what I've been writing is Impostor SAGAU

So you're in Teyvat. As a god with OP abilities. Very fun.

Oh and you liked growing coral and tapping fishes on your phone when you weren't playing Genshin Impact.

As an ocean lover, the first nation you headed to once Teyvat transported you from Earth was Fontaine.

After the introduction and any fancy amenities provided by Furina and the people of Fontaine, you took some time one day to go up to Freminet-

And then you asked him if you and he could just have a little dive together.

...

Good job you've successfully broken and flustered Lyney and Lynette's adopted sibling within your first day on the continent.

Freminet suggested that you undergo training first though, since diving requires particular attention and careful actions to perform safely.

You, however, either had a 'YOLO' mindset or just wanted to see how powerful your abilities truly were because you kinda just...

...decided to bellyflop yourself into the water and freaking the frick out of Freminet.

However, to his surprise, you ascended without worry and told him that aside from your stomach hurting like hell, you could breathe without a breathing apparatus and see without a helmet.

This gave him slight relief but he still wanted to ensure your safety.

He beckoned you to stay close to him as you took in the sights- Romaritime Flowers, seahorses, crabs- organisms from your world reimagined in a more elemental and mystifying world.

...And then the vortex came.

It rapidly pulled you in its hold and prevented you from escaping; you subconsciously screamed for help and found out that you could speak underwater.

Freminet heard you and froze, unsure of the action he should take; then it swallowed him too, and plunged the two of you deep into the water.

...

...Wait, is that...!

At the bottom of the vortex was a familiar rock formation with a smiling face on it.

"OH MY GOD IT'S YOU- HI" you screamed as the (not-so) Lonely Corallite from Abyssrium glanced at you and Freminet and made a :3 face while producing vitality bubbles at a faster pace.

Freminet meanwhile is just confused, but then the fish surrounding the Corallite dragged him out of his daze and swam around him and his suit.

It turns out that the Corallite had apparently made its way to Teyvat too- and found itself lodged at the bottom of Fontaine.

Freminet found himself playing and swimming with a lot of fish. They would give him little nuzzles, circle around him, and beckon him to chase them.

Squids also playfully clung to his helmet, and sea turtles gently let him on their backs.

The sight of a few sharks initially scared him- but his fears changed to bewilderment and eventually admiration as he pet them alongside the fish.

Crabs and lobsters sat on the bottom and gently touched Freminet's hand with their pincers, never once pinching at him.

In the end the fish ended up paying more attention to him than you- that's fine, because right now you would simply sit next to the Corallite for now.

Neuvillette was worried.

He stopped feeling your presence around Fontaine and searched all day for you.

From what information he could gather from people, the last time you were seen was in Romaritime Harbor with Freminet. Other eyewitnesses also claimed that you had apparently haphazardly jumped into the water with the diver jumping in afterward.

The hydro dragon wasted no time and jumped right into Romaritime Harbor.

He swam around in an attempt to find any traces of you- then he got stuck in a water vortex he couldn't escape from.

Somehow though, the further he got dragged down, the more he felt your presence, and the less he felt like he had to hold his breath.

(A/N: Apparently Neuvillette can drown, if anyone finds this wrong lemme know in the comments)

Eventually, the vortex led him to you and Freminet spending time with the Corallite and playing with the fish and other aquatic animals coated in a relatively simple appearance compared to Teyvat's color.

The fact that these animals simply coexist with each other with no regard for predator or prey fascinated him. Perhaps he should stick around...

...He ended up doting on and playing with a singular otter.

Taglist: @floofeh-purpi, @bl1pbl0p, @bunniotomia, @valeriele3

[ravengards-rogue]

bright as the morning, soft as the rain

sebastian (stardew valley) x reader

�� tags : gender neutral reader, canon divergence, a lot of author liberties, alcohol, fluffy, pre-relationship, mildly suggestive but sooo mildly lol.

✧ wc : 3.4k (this is ridiculous lol)

✧ a/n : the thing to get me out of my writing slump being sdv fanfiction is hilarious.

hi! this is the first part to a silly little alternative first kiss series i have planned for the stardew romanceable characters. i think the other ones will be shorter (hopefully but lol).

i will link the rest of them as they get posted. i hope u like. rbs appreciated. also tagging @antique-remains (hi this is fang on my side blog lol)

✧ synopsis : sebastian wants to do anything but think of you. he's failing miserably on that front. sam and abigail are not helping.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

“Earth to Sebastian,” Sam snaps his fingers in front of Sebastian’s face. Sebastian jumps in his skin. “What’s with you today? If you’re not gonna take our pool playing tradition seriously, I’m not playing.”  

He swipes a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. Half-empty Joja-Cola can sits directly besides his pool stick, the faint air of smoke and liquor in the air. Right. He’s here to play pool.  

 He pinches the bridge of his nose with exasperation, shaking off the feeling before scratching the back of his neck.  

“No, sorry. I wanna play, just…give me a sec.”  

“Got something on your mind Seb?”  Abigail prods, unfortunately intuitive. Sebastian scowls at her. She stands to her feet to get closer, sitting on the edge of the pool table with her cheek turned just enough to look at him. Her smile is coy. “A certain someone, maybe?”  

His scowl deepens, lip curled in distaste. “No. Move. You’re in my way.”  

“You’re a bad liar.” Abigail says with a resigned sigh, arms crossed. “You weren’t this spacey last time you dated someone. ”  

“Fuck off,” Sebastian sighs. “It’s not like that yet.”  

Abigail grins before Sebastian can  correct the slip up. “Yet. Yet, he says.” 

Sebastian feels himself blush. “Ugh.” 

He sighs as he stands back up, leaning against his pool stick. Sam stops whatever he was doing (messing with the pool table deliberately, Sebastian assumes), taking newfound interest in the conversation.  

“Oh, you two talking about our new neighbor?” 

“Not really new. It’s been like… what a year or two almost?” Abigail adds. Sam shrugs.  

“That’s true. But it feels new to me anyway.” Sam says. He gives up on pool it seems like, abandoning his stick on the table in favor of navigating to the box pizza balancing on another table nearby and his drink. Sebastian watches him shimmy a slice of the pie, not bothering to blow on it as he eats. “Oh is that why your heads in the clouds? Figures.”  

“I didn’t say that. Abigail said that.”  

“And you’re saying she’s wrong?”  

Sebastian huffs. “…Yes.”  

Sam laughs good-naturedly. “Pfft. Uh-huh, yeah. I super believe you.”  

“Fuck you both.” 

“Come on, Seb. It’s not like everyone in town doesn’t know.”  

Sebastian’s frown deepens. “Not everyone.”  

Sam seats himself on the couch again and Abigail joins him. It creaks under the weight of them as they get comfortable together. Sebastian stays where he is, sitting on the tables edge with a drink in his hand and an itch for a cigarette.  

Sam counts on his fingers. “Your mom knows. My mom knows. Abby’s mom knows. If they all know then our dads definitely also know. Who else does that leave? Our towns tiny dude. Like I’d say Elliot doesn’t, but he’s here on Friday’s and he catches up with gossip all the time. So basically everyone.”  

“…Shit.”  

“See? Told you.”  

Sebastian doesn’t need everyone to know what’s going on between you. He doesn’t even know what’s going on between you. It’s taken him longer than he cares to admit to even acknowledge that there was something there. And he didn’t know it was mutual until recently when Abigail came dropped by to tell him she overheard her dad explaining old Pelican Town traditions on dating and romance. 

(Abigail always describes things in excruciating detail, adding all the bells and whistles. This makes her great to play the Solarion Chronicles with.  

It also makes her  good at artfully recounting interactions. He can easily picture you the way she said she saw you, overalls  half unbuttoned, dirt covered and leaning over the counter just slightly giving Pierre your rapt attention.   

The thought of it is enough to trigger some sense of affection he’s never entirely felt before.)  

It’s not like Sebastian is against the idea of dating you, it’s just— 

“I think you should go out with them Seb. I like ‘em a lot more than your exes.”  

Sebastian sighs. “You guys know why I’m on the fence.”  

Sam shrugs. “Does they even count though? They’re not actually from here. They live here sure but they didn’t grow up here.”  

“Right? That’s what I think too. Might as well go for it.” Abigail shrugs, glancing at Sebastian. “I really don’t get why you’re hesitating. Something else has to bugging you.”  

“I thought that too.” Sam adds. 

A faint blush creeps up his neck. He loves his friends and sometimes, he appreciates how well they know him. Times like this, he thinks it wouldn’t kill them to be a little less perceptive.  

They’re not wrong. It is something of a flimsy excuse to try not to think about you. Sebastian has always had a not dating policy about people he grew up with. He nearly dated Abigail in highschool and it was a shitshow. So he’s vowed to never do it again.  

But that’s not the real reason he’s been rejecting the possibility in his head. He uses it more for himself than anyone else. It’s not like he can give them the real answer because he thinks it’s one hundred times more embarrassing.  

How the fuck is he meant to tell them the reason he keeps hesitating to define your relationship is because he feels like he likes you too much?  

That’s the real reason he’s going in circles about it. It’s so cringe it makes him want to break out in hives but well, it is true. Sebastian likes you—like really fucking likes you—and it’s freaking him out because he thinks it’s the first time he’s really liked anyone.  

Dating has never been all that fun for Sebastian. It wasn’t something that felt meaningful. He dated mostly in college and only one of those relationships lasted a significant amount of time. And even then the relationship was never all that genuine. They ultimately broke up because Sebastian realized they were fundamentally incompatible. As bad as it sounds, there wasn’t a real sense of attachment there, not once. It was just convenient for both of them. He realized at that point he should probably just focus on himself.  

That was about when he moved back home to the valley to live with his family in his post graduation.  

And he had honestly expected it to be another few mundane years, akin to his early adolescence. He was so sure that he would spend it with the same restless feeling in his stomach, the same longing to be somewhere else. If he could never feel any belonging, at least he wanted to be somewhere he could blend in. He thought for sure moving back to Pelican Town was going to be nothing but dreadful and boring and existential. That he would come back and remember why he wanted to leave in the first place.  

Until one day, someone from the city moved into the old, overgrown farm and turned the entirety of the valley upside down.  

When you met for the first time, Sebastian honestly didn’t care. Nothing goes on in Pelican Town, so he figured you’d be the main subject of gossip for a few weeks before ultimately blending into the background of his life just like everyone else. He also didn’t think you’d last long living here. You were part of the corporate rat race he so detests and you didn’t grow up in the valley. It’s a hard place to get used to after living somewhere more populated.  

Against all odds  though - you did stay. And you’ve integrated yourself so much with the people living—himself included here it kind of baffles him. He doesn’t entirely remember what it was like before you came here.   

Sebastian couldn’t have predicted in a million years that that stupid help wanted sign in front of Pierre’s store would start actually being useful. But lo and behold, at least three times a week he finds you with full pockets - jogging after whomever last posted to give them what they need. And you do that without anyone really asking you too.  

You’re just so… helpful. And social in a way he can’t describe. Everyone in town has nothing but nice things to say about you. You’ve given everyone a gift on their birthday thus far. You’re keeping the entire economy afloat with your farm right now and you regularly clear those mines out for monsters. You even paid for the bus to get repaired, too - so now it’s up and running again.  

You’re full of surprises. And easy to adore, himself included.  

What surprises him most often is how easy it is for him to be around you. He doesn’t turn you away even when you visit his room sharply at 9am and hover over him in bed. He doesn’t get even the slightest bit upset when you have a mundane and disruptive conversation hours before he usually gets up. He keeps everything you’ve ever gifted him, and he often thinks of inviting you to things he does with his friends. He smiles when he sees you running around doing some chore, frantic and covered in muck - all mess and sunlight.  

You’re… nice. Honest, hard-working, and cheerful. Kind. Sincere in wanting to know him. You should completely and utterly exhaust him given those are your main characteristics. You should be someone he’s simply fundamentally incompatible with. 

But more than anything, you’re thoughtful. And it disarms him so utterly he feels overwhelmed by the thought. From the start, you put in a lot of effort into maintaining connections and he was no different. It’s just impacted him so much more than he thought it would. If he lets himself think too far on it, he really won’t stop thinking about you.  

To the point he’s been picturing what it’s like to live on the farm.  He’s in deep. 

Despite all of your idiosyncrasies, you really seem to give a shit about things in a way that feels utterly foreign to him. This extends to anything and everything. It extends to Sebastian, and it shows in the ways you don’t undermine him. Little things. You take his work seriously and apologize for disturbing him, you don’t immediately take the side of his family when he talks about them despite being friends with them too, you don’t interrogate him about what he is or is not comfortable with. You show up and linger in his life, and then you go off to your own thing. 

More and more, he gets the urge to stop you before you go. It’s too much. It makes him act…lame and he’s not too fond of it. He’s never really felt this strongly about anyone before and he’s a little bit of a wreck about what it does to him. So it’s not that he doesn’t want to date you, but more that he does so bad he doesn’t even want to admit it.  

 But well.. He isn’t sure it’s even working. As soon as you walk into a room it’s like— 

He’s lost in his thoughts for a while, only to get pulled out of them by some big commotion happening in the main part of the saloon.  

“Ah, you’re here. What perfect timing kid,”   

Shit. Shit  

Only somewhat obscured by the distance and wall separating their space from the bar - Sebastian catches a glimpse of you and feels something uncomfortably warm in his chest. His friends both make little oooh sounds, no doubt planning to do something stupid. He should intervene but he gets too caught up in pretending he doesn’t see you. Turning away stiffly, he pretends to be looking at something else while he listens on your conversation. It’s not too hard to hear, anyway.  

“Hi, Pam.” He can practically hear the smile in your voice. “Here’s your ale. Managed to grow a hops plant indoors this season so the brew is pretty fresh. It’s strong, fair warning.”  

A beat of muffle conversations follows up with a a loud sigh. “That’s exactly what I needed. Your pretty good with your liquor and spirits, huh kid? Thanks for the drink. Here’s what I owe ya.”  

“Selling alcohol under the table at my establishment? Tsk tsk.” Gus adds.  

It’s at this point Sebastian lets himself look at you properly. You lean with your elbows against the counter. You look a mess like usual, but you’ve got on a cowboy hat today that Sebastian finds ridiculously cute. You smile at Gus sheepishly.  

“Sorry. Can I buy myself a drink to make up for it?” You offer.  

“I’ll do you one better and give it to you on the house.”  

“Aw, what? Can’t let you do that Gus.”  

“You can and you will. You’re always looking out for everyone. Here, it’s a nice imported IPA. Nice and cold. Have a drink and go relax. Some of your friends are here too tonight I think.”  

“Oh?”  

On cue, you turn your head to the group of them. When you and Sebastian meet eyes, you brighten visbly - all smiles. He’s so caught up in it, he doesn’t even catch Sam next to him until he throw an arm around his shoulder and waves you over.  

You weave through the tables until you cross the threshold of their little hide-out. Abigail greets you first with a short sidehug before you go over to him and Sam.  

“Hey,”  

“Hi Sam.” You pause, tilting your head. “Did you cut your hair? It’s shorter than usual.”  

Sam beams. “I did! And you’re the first one to notice, other than my mom. Goes to show who my real friends are,”  

Sebastian nudges him, pulling away from his grip. “I see enough of your face everyday. There’s nothing for me to observe.”  

“It looks nice,” You add. Charming and genuine. Sam smiles at you. 

“Thanks,”  

Sebastian is weirdly jealous until you address him in conversation. “Hey to you too Sebastian.”  

His heart thumps. This is ridiculous. He swallows. “Hey. Uh. How have you been?”  

Awkward. So awkward. You smile a little and lean on the pool table besides him with your drink, taking a sip. “Good. Busy as usually getting ready for Winter. Renovated our coop recently so I’ve got a whole bunch of baby bunnies I gotta take care of. Went and bought another heater, some extra hay. Just farm stuff. Not very interesting,”  

“I find it interesting,” He replies quickly. You lip twitches in a smile.  

“I’m glad.”  

“Baby bunnies sound so cute,” Abigail adds. Sebastian glances at her as she joins the rest of them. “What else have you got in there?”  

“A little of everything. Chickens, ducks. I’ve got a void chicken too, kinda freaky. Oh and these little dino looking guys.”  

Abigail looks bright eyed. “Would it be like… weird if I asked to go over? I kinda wanna see them?”  

You laugh. “Not at all. I don’t mind. You could honestly go over whenever but it’s hard to navigate the farm if I’m not there, though I’m trying to fix that this upcoming winter.”  

You glance then at Sebastian, eyes almost sparkling. “You should come over sometime, too. You’d like the void chicken I think. And I’ve got a slime hutch.”  

Sebastian sputters at the obvious invitation only barely managing to cover up the shock to his system. You don’t seem put off, but it’s obvious you know what you’re doing. He’s going to explode.  

Abigail and Sam make not-so-subtle eye contact before Sam clears his throat.  

“Well, uh, me and Abi are gonna head out. We’ve got some stuff to catch up on, but there’s still a few hours until the saloon closes so you two should stay here and finish up  our drinks and stuff. Uh… yeah. See you again,”  

Sam nods, quickly rifling for his things. Abigail follows in his foot steps.  

“Mhm, yep. See you,”  

Sam gives him one last encouraging look before turning around and leaving. The two of them scurry off in a blink of an eye, before Sebastian can get a single word in about the situation or tell them to stay. And now he’s alone with you, quietly wondering if it’s as awkward as it feels.  

You’re the one to break the ice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”  

Sebastian blinks. “Uh no. Not really.”  

“Me either. We should stay back then, for a little while.” You offer with a shrug. “Why not, right?”  

Right. Sebastian is being really chill about this entire interaction. “Right.”  

“I’m glad I got to see you tonight,” You say, out of the blue. Sebastian nearly jumps in his skin at the admission. “I’ve been pretty busy with the growing season ending so I haven’t been you know, able to come by as often. I don’t know if it made a huge difference to you but—“ 

“It did.” He blurts out. Your mouth opens then closes again, a blush crawling up his neck as he tucks his chin in embarrassment. “It was uh, weird for me. I know you’re busy and I like my alone time but I did… miss you.” 

“Yeah?”  

He’s almost too afraid to meet your eyes. When he manages  - you’re smiling fondly, sweetly with a sense of amusement. It rolls off of you in waves and it becomes clear to him in that split second that you don’t really intend to hide how you feel despite him being so hellbent on making sure he does. You’re not hiding that you like him. It feels stupidly warm and fuzzy.  

You look like you’ve been working all day and you smell a little like grass and rain in a way that makes him want to draw that much closer to you. So he does, leaving into your space.  

“Yeah.” He manages, barely getting the words out without being a complete wreck. “It’s new for me.”  

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever they say.” And then, even more sweetly. “I missed you too.”  

Fuck. You’re… fuck.  

Sebastian pretends to wipe something from his face just to cover it and make his blush less obvious. This is embarrassing. He likes you so much and for what.  

There’s a million things he wants to tell you but he can’t find the words for any of them. So he tucks in on himself and wonders how the fuck he would ever go about actually dating you.  

You inch closer to him. Tentative, until your thighs are touching. He doesn’t move away.  

Suddenly, you’re close to him than you’ve ever been. Looking from the corner of your eye, Sebastian turns his head to meet your gaze. You’re an inch apart, and he’s looking at your lips - slightly chapped from the weather. The faint scent of alcohol on your breath makes him dizzy. Your smile is what does him in ultimately. A subtle tug at the corners of your mouth, a little teeth. Something about it precious.  

“Hey,” You mutter.  

“Hm,”  

“Can I kiss you?” 

He responds with leaning forward to do it first. It’s chaste and easy, and he does it because you’ve already taken so many first steps and he should, at least, take this one. So he leans into kiss you and it feels like his whole body is melting. It’s brief and light and he pulls away before it feels like it should be over.  

You part for a breath, a single heartbeat - before your hands go up to cradle the side of his face. You kiss him deeper that time. A real kiss where he can taste you enough to know that you drank - one he would only want to do in the privacy of this confined spaced. He feels you in your entirety  - returns your gesture with a careful hand on your waist that you don’t pull away from.  

And it doesn’t stop. Like neither of you want it too, despite everything else. Despite the fact he’s doing this in the bar of his hometown where everyone will gossip about it without doubt, and despite knowing that  - the drive to kiss you is stronger than his usual sensibilities. So you kiss and kiss and kiss, short presses followed by long, firm ones. A slight brush of tongue, the soft nip of teeth as you tease and tug. All mirth and amusement and fondness and bravery and god he is so into you it’s ridiculous.  

You manage to pull away from each other after a while. His lips are tingly. And there’s a sheepishness to you both that makes it hard for him to look your way.  

“Hey, Sebastian.”  

He clears his throat.  

“Uh. Yeah?”  

“I’m gonna ask you out tomorrow. Properly.”  

He blushes. “…I’d be cool with that.”  

You grin. “Yeah?”   

Shit he’s happy. He is not gonna get a lick of sleep tonight. He smiles a little to himself.  

“Yeah.”  

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

Look Me in the Eye

summary: based on a daisy jones and the six scene! a one shot in which ford comes home from a crazy night with bill, pushing you to your limit

warnings: a slap from reader to ford. gender neutral reader! this one shot came from a chapter of my actual oc story about ford but i made it gender neutral x reader because i’m so proud of this scene.

word count: 4.4k

With Fiddleford back home for Thanksgiving and the portal on a brief hiatus, you’d think Ford would take that chance to be home. But he doesn’t; he keeps working. So, you decide to try and get some work done too. Writing hasn’t come easy, though.

Ford is God knows where, and you’re sitting at your piano, staring at the keys, waiting for the words to come. At this point, a part of you has accepted that the Ford you married is somewhere deep in the back of his brain. He said he would do better, but he hasn’t. You think back to your cousin and how you swore that you wouldn’t let yourself end up like that—in a small town with a deadbeat partner and a baby.

The only thing you don’t have out of those things is a baby, which you don’t want. When you were younger, you always saw yourself having kids. But when you marry a human, it’s a little strange to think about. It’s unknown if you could even have kids together. There were legends back home about two humans in the demon realm, and one of them married and had a baby with a witch.

You do a mini birth control spell that you’re not even sure works. Well, it’s worked so far—you haven’t gotten pregnant yet. Ford wouldn’t give a damn about a baby anyway, so why even put it at the forefront of your mind? And you’re fine without kids. You’re not one of those people who craved kids their whole life and dreamed about what life with children would look like.

You always assumed it would happen if it happened. And with Ford, it’s not happening. These past few months have proven that more than ever because he’s rarely home. The way most couples go out to dinner at the end of a long day, you and Ford go out to breakfast two or three times a week. But he’s usually trying to hide the fact that he’s rushing to get back to work.

His attempt at spending time with you is noted but not necessarily accepted.

The door creaks open, and you hear the unsteady shuffle of Ford’s footsteps before you see him. He stumbles into the room, shirtless, his hair a tangled mess, eyes glassy, and reeking of alcohol. He stands there in the doorway, looking at you with a mix of shame and regret, unable to meet your gaze for long. He tries to speak, but the words fumble out, barely coherent.

“Ford,” you breathe, your voice wavering between anger and concern. You step closer to him, looking at how droopy and tired his eyes look. “What happened to you?”

“I… I know Bill took it too far this time, but it doesn’t… it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not—” He’s almost nonverbal, his normally sharp mind dulled by the alcohol and Bill’s lingering influence. When you see new tattoos on his body, you lose it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Ford? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand. He doesn’t even look at you; his mind is completely somewhere else. It’s as if Ford isn’t even in there right now.

Before he can respond, you close the distance between you, and your hand connects with his face in a swift, stinging slap. Given that you’re smaller than him, it doesn’t do much other than make him look at you. Ford looks at you, stunned, his hand moving slowly to his cheek where your slap left its mark and a slight stinging pain.

“You come home like this,” you say, your voice breaking as tears well up in your eyes. “After everything, you think you can just brush it off? You think you can say it doesn’t mean anything and that’s supposed to be enough?”

Ford’s lips tremble, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and sorrow. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how much he hates himself for what he’s become, but the words won’t come.

“What happened to the man I married?” you continue, your voice softer now, though no less pained. “Where’s the Ford who would move mountains for me, who promised we’d get through anything together? Because this…” You gesture at him, tears finally spilling over. “This isn’t the man I fell in love with.”

Ford’s eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. He knows he’s the cause, knows that he’s pushed you to the edge, but he still can’t let go of the work, of the promises he made to Bill. But none of that matters now—not when he sees how much he’s hurting you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “I… it’s Bill, but I—”

“So, who do I blame?” you ask, and he doesn’t have an answer. “Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like this? You come home from doing God knows what, God knows where, and have the nerve to try to defend Bill? After all of this bullshit, you still think he’s someone worth putting up with?”

You look at him, your anger slowly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. You still love him—God, you love him so much—but this version of Ford, the one who’s been consumed by his work and Bill’s influence, is breaking your heart piece by piece.

“I love you, Ford. I love you so much it hurts, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself… and us.” Your voice trembles as you take a step back, the space between you feeling like a chasm.

“Please… I don’t want to lose you. I love you more than anything. I’m sorry.” Ford reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes.

You hesitate, looking at the man you married, the one you’ve been trying to hold on to, but you can’t shake the fear that he’s already slipping away.

“You’re losing me, Stanford.” You shake your head as another tear falls, and it’s like everything comes bubbling over all at once.

Ford reaches out, desperate to close the distance between you, but you step back, gently pushing him away. Your hands, though soft against his chest, carry the weight of all the anger and hurt you’ve been holding in.

“Go take a shower, Ford,” you say, your voice trembling but firm. “I’m not going to talk to you again until you do.”

Your words hit him like a cold splash of reality. He can see the resolve in your eyes, the line you’re drawing in the sand. You’re not just angry; you’re done—at least for now. Ford hesitates, wanting to say something, anything to make this right, but the look on your face tells him that words won’t fix this. Not this time.

He nods, defeated, and turns away, heading for the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind him feels like a finality he’s not ready to face. He lingers for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob, hoping you’ll say something—anything—to stop him from leaving the room. But you don’t.

As he steps into the shower, the hot water cascades over him, washing away the grime and sweat from the night, but it does nothing to ease the weight on his chest. He leans against the tiled wall, water mingling with the tears he’s been holding back.

His heart breaks. He knew after every other little crack in your relationship that this was coming. But nothing could’ve made him ready for the day you finally snapped. And he knows you don’t believe he loves you as much as he does, which kills him.

Meanwhile, you watch him disappear into the bathroom, your heart heavy with the love you still feel for him, mixed with the deep-seated pain of watching him spiral. You turn on your heel, walking away, needing the space to gather yourself before you can even think about facing him again. As you move through your home, every room feels colder and emptier, and you can’t shake the fear that the warmth you once shared might be slipping away for good.

After all that, you feel like you need a shower too. You can’t believe you said all that and exploded. It felt like it was a long time coming and this was the final straw. His coming home like that, completely shameless, made you feel an anger you hadn’t felt before. Anger because you always said you could do better than your family, but he’s making you feel the same as they did.

When Ford finally emerges, clean but still burdened, he heads into your bedroom. He notices you sitting there with red, puffy eyes. He doesn’t know what to do; he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted, but you have to know how pissed I am,” you speak first as he takes a seat beside you on the bed. “If you don’t love me anymore, just say it. You’re never around anymore, and when you are, it seems like you just want to get away from me. It’s fine if you don’t love me anymore; I’d be heartbroken, but I’d be okay. I’d be even more heartbroken if you kept me hanging around here when it’s just me who still loves you.”

Ford feels his throat tighten at your words, guilt and sorrow gnawing at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words catch in his throat. How can he make you understand that his distance has never been about a lack of love? How can he convince you that despite everything, you’re still the most important part of his life?

“I always promised myself I wouldn’t be this,” you start. “Sitting around as if I need someone. I never wanted to be the person stuck at home, trotting around at the genius’ heels. Especially not with someone who doesn’t—who might not—” your voice trembles, and he quickly jumps in.

“I do love you,” he finally whispers, his voice hoarse. “I love you more than anything. I’m just… lost. This work, everything I’ve been doing—it’s consumed me, and I know I’ve let it come between us. But please, don’t ever think that I don’t love you. That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

You listen, your eyes searching his face for sincerity. You can see the regret there, the deep sadness in his eyes, but you’ve heard apologies before. You need more than just words. Ford reaches out, taking your hand in his, holding it like a lifeline. He can feel your fingers trembling, and it breaks his heart all over again.

“I know I’ve been terrible,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my work that I’ve neglected you, neglected us. But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. I’ll do better—I promise I’ll do better.”

“How many times have we had this conversation, Ford? I—I’m getting tired,” you breathe out.

“I mean, what do you want me to tell you here? Do you want me to say I’m never gonna work with Bill again? Because I can’t! I need him.” Ford tries.

“No, you don’t!” you slightly raise your voice before sighing.

“Do you want me to just stop working so you can be making money and supporting me while I do nothing? I mean, fuck, you’re not exactly writing or anything right now,” he breathes out.

“I’m trying,” you say firmly.

“I can’t… I can’t lose so you’re comfortable! I can’t lose because you can’t win,” he raises his voice.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. Neither of you speaks, but Ford instantly regrets it.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” your voice breaks.

He’s failed you in so many ways, and he’s terrified that it might be too late to fix things. But as he looks into your eyes, he knows he has to try.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he says, his voice trembling with conviction. “Just… please don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

“I don’t believe you,” you cry, and he slightly stiffens. “I mean, did you hear what you just said? I need to go for a drive or something.”

“Wait, please,” he starts, but you’re already standing up and trying to leave. “I’m so in love with you it feels like I can’t breathe when I’m not with you!”

As you try to walk out as quickly as possible to hide your tears, he sees your hand come up to wipe them.

“Please don’t go,” he begs, finally catching up with you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Please, just hear me out.”

“I’ll hear you out later, I just need a minute. I don’t want to give up on this, but I just… I need a coffee or something,” you look him in the eyes, and everything in him softens.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “Just… please, come home to me.”

“I will. I’ll be back soon,” you nod.

Ford watches helplessly as you leave. The door clicks shut behind you, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. His heart aches with a pain he can’t describe, but he doesn’t have the time to wallow. The moment you’re gone, something snaps inside him, and he storms back into his office.

Once inside, Ford slams the door shut and collapses into his chair, his body shaking as the tears finally break free. He buries his face in his hands, the sobs wracking his body with a force he hasn’t felt in years. All of the pain, the regret, the self-loathing—it all comes pouring out in a way that feels like it could tear him apart.

But before he can even begin to regain control, he senses a familiar presence. The air in the room changes, becoming thick with an ominous energy that Ford knows all too well.

"Why the long face, Sixer?" Bill’s voice cuts through the silence. "Having a little lover’s quarrel?"

Ford lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Bill’s glowing form. Rage surges through him, raw and untamed.

"This is your fault," he yells. "You’ve ruined everything!"

"Me? Ruin? Oh, come on, Fordsy. You know this was bound to happen. You’re the one who’s been pushing them away, not me." Bill laughs, the sound echoing eerily off the walls. Ford’s fists clench at his sides, the anger building to a boiling point.

"I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you!" he shouts, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. "My marriage is falling apart because of you!"

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic," Bill taunts, his voice dripping with condescension. "You think I made you neglect them? Do you think I made you ignore all those signs? That’s all you, pal. I see everything, and they’ve been telling you how they feel like every day. It’s not my fault you don’t care enough to do anything about it."

"I- why did you have to go so crazy in my body? I respect you, and I’m still finishing the portal, but what the hell? At the end of the day, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you." Ford glares.

"You think finishing that portal is going to fix your problems? Oh, Fordsy, you’re in way over your head. Stop blaming me. It’s not my fault you want to see me more than your own spouse." Bill laughs.

"Maybe you can’t process emotions like this, but they’re the love of my life. Before them, I hadn’t really dated anyone, and I wasn’t even sleeping around or anything; I was a loser. The only reason I ended up with someone as incredible as them without ruining it, like usual, is because I saw them as an anomaly at first. I didn’t think I was flirting or anything. I don’t know what I’d do if they left me. I wouldn’t even know what love is without them. You need to think about what your actions can mean for other people, Bill." Ford turns back to Bill.

"Clearly, you’re the one that needs to think about your actions. Isn’t it crazy that if you neglect someone’s feelings, they won’t want to be with you anymore? Even I can understand that!" Bill laughs, and Ford just stands up.

Ford sits there for a moment before he decides he can’t take it anymore. He stands up and heads to the music room. Bill yells things as he walks away, but Ford doesn’t hear it. He heads straight for a notebook full of songs they’ve written. His heart is racing as he opens it and sees so many that he hasn’t even heard yet.

In fact, this is a new notebook almost full of songs he hasn’t heard except for a few at the beginning. Have they not tried to show him, or has he not tried to listen? He reads the sad lyrics of almost every song, lyrics about feeling lonely when with someone you love and waking up alone. Songs about how they try to convince themselves that they’re a part of his life but not feeling like it. When did he start pulling away from them?

You sit in your car with a to-go cup of coffee, unsure if you should drive home yet or simmer for a little while longer. Your fingers tap on the warm cup as you try to think clearly. Your love for Ford is swarming every inch of your mind. But you know you shouldn’t accept what you don’t deserve, and you know you haven’t done anything to deserve this.

The version of you before Ford would’ve threatened a divorce already to try and scare him. You don’t want to do that now, but you want him to realize that you can’t keep living like this. You can’t keep following in his stride instead of walking beside him. You’ve won ten Grammys; it’s not as if you’re unaccomplished with no other options but to stay with him.

But you want to stay with him. Ford is so loving and warm. No one has ever loved you the way he has. Hell, no one other than Ford has seen you as more than a one-night thing. And you love him so much. You can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s something here for you to try to understand that you don’t already.

You look at the ring on your finger—his ring. And you don’t feel like other people have described, like it’s a handcuff or a jail cell that’s keeping you locked to him. You love being married to Ford. Saying you don’t and never did would be a complete lie. You just don’t love being mostly ignored by the man you love.

For someone so smart, he can be such an idiot sometimes. Letting some kind of entity possess his body whenever it pleases is a new low. Is that my problem? Bill? you think. It’s not right to you that his weakest self gets to decide how your life is going to turn out; you get to decide that. And what you want is a life—a beautiful marriage, a home—with him. With the man you know he truly is. And you’re going to get it, hell or high water.

You take a deep breath, your eyes still fixed on the ring as you turn it around your finger. The thought of a future without Ford makes your heart ache, but you know you deserve better, and you know Ford is capable of giving it to you—if he just realized how much you mean to him, how much you mean to each other.

You sip your coffee, the warmth grounding you, giving you the clarity you need. You know you have limits. If Ford can’t see the toll his actions are taking on your marriage, then you have to make him see it. You have to stand up for yourself, for what you want, and for the life you could have together.

You start the car, the decision made. You’re going to drive home and talk to him—not in anger or frustration, but with the love that’s still there, burning so fiercely in your heart. You’re going to make him understand what’s at stake—not just your marriage, but everything you’ve built together.

As you drive, the road blurs slightly through your unshed tears, but you blink them away. You can’t afford to lose focus now. Ford needs to know that you’re serious, that this isn’t just another fight that will blow over. This is your future, and you won’t let it slip away without a fight.

When you pull up to the house, your resolve only strengthens. You take a deep breath before stepping out of the car, the ring on your finger feeling like a lifeline rather than a chain. You walk into the house, finding Ford sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up as you enter, and the relief in his eyes is almost overwhelming.

“Ford…” you begin, your voice thick with emotion, but you hold up a hand to stop him as he tries to respond.

“Ford, I need you to listen to me,” you say firmly, though your voice trembles slightly. You sit down beside him, taking his hands in yours. “I love you more than anything in this world, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep being the one who’s always trying to catch up to you, to your work, to everything else that seems to matter more than me or my feelings.”

His eyes widen in panic, and he starts to speak, but you squeeze his hands, stopping him again.

“No, Ford. Let me finish,” you continue, your voice soft but steady. “You’ve always been so loving, so warm, and I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. But you know me, and you know I’m not the type to ignore the fact that I’ve felt more like an afterthought lately. And it hurts. It really, really hurts.”

“Please, I—” Ford’s face crumples, and you can see the guilt and regret swirling in his eyes.

“I don’t want to threaten you with divorce or give you an ultimatum,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “But I need you to understand that if we’re going to make this work, you need to start seeing me as your partner again, not just someone who’s here to support you while you chase after your dreams. We need to be in this together, walking side by side—not with me always trying to catch up.”

Ford looks at you with such intensity that it nearly takes your breath away. His eyes are red and puffy too, his fingers nervously moving his ring in circles on his finger.

“You’re right,” he finally says, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. But I swear to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. You mean everything to me, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You make me want to be better, not just for you, but for us. And I’m going to prove it to you. I don’t want to lose this with you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you. Just… please, don’t go. I’m still yours. My heart is always gonna be yours. You are the one I want.”

“I just want you to see me, Ford. Really see me. I’m not asking you to give up your work, but I need you to find a balance, to make room for us in your life. Because I can’t keep doing this if things don’t change.” You nod, tears spilling over your lashes as you squeeze his hands.

“I see you. I promise I see you,” Ford whispers, pulling you into his arms. “And I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me. I won’t let you down again. And those aren’t just empty promises—I mean every word I say to you.”

As you hold each other, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by the hope that you can find your way back to each other. It won’t be easy, but you know it’s possible. And for the first time in a long time, you believe that you can make it work. Ford pulls back slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t date anyone in high school or college—I was too focused on my work. Hell, I’ve only slept with four people in my life, and you’re the only one who wanted me after that. You’re the only one who stayed the morning after and kissed me and smiled at me. You looked so perfect then, and it would’ve been impossible not to want more with you. You’re the reason I want to be better, the reason I want to wake up every morning. And I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I’m not going to take it for granted anymore. I promise you that.”

“Okay.” You nod for a moment before bringing his lips to yours.

He sinks into you, and the next thing he knows, he’s on top of you on the couch. Both of your hands are desperate as your lips talk. And he thinks, while this is happening, that you are worth everything to him. He didn’t think any of this would be happening when he first got out of high school and his life was in front of him. He never thought he would even have a spouse, let alone be kissing you with his body between your legs in your home on a quiet November night.

And the further things go, he realizes that he hasn’t touched you like this since your most recent talk about him neglecting you before tonight. Seasons changed, months passed, and he was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to just exist with you, which is what he loved doing when you first met.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Cowboy Rule With Brimstone, Cypher, Sova and Harbor

Words: 622

Request: hai :3 could you do the cowboy rule with a gender neutral reader w/ brim, cypher, sova and harbour? Requested by: @floralflytrap

Couldn't stick to just hats so; Brim = hat, Cypher = hat, Sova = cape, = Harbor = rings

It was practically silent around the protocol today, plenty of the other agents have been sent on various missions. This left the rest scrambling to find something to do, which luckily almost everyone else found something. But you weren’t as lucky, already gone through anything that kept you distracted.

And now you have moved on to bothering anyone you could find. Few entertained you but in the end you went looking for one person in particular, Brimstone, or as you call him, Liam. Who was hunched over his desk focusing on some paperwork, working so much he didn’t register you entering.

Sneaking behind him, your hands slowly reached for his hat. Swiftly pulling it off and stepping away as he finally looked away from his work, eyes quickly settling on the stolen hat that was now placed on your head.

“Come on Doll, I can’t have you distracting me right now.” “It can wait~” Sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning closer to Liam. “Can it?” Before you could respond you felt his hand land on your hips, giving you a quick warning before lifting you up. “Hopefully you locked the door.”

“Where has it gone?” Amir was mumbling to himself through the hall, looking for something of his that has gone missing. So cuaght up in his thoughts he missed the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Yo, Cypher!” Phoenix did a double take before noticing, “I thought you would’a have another?”

“So you know where it is?” “Yeah, I just saw Y/N with it.” Pointing towards the living area, “Ah, thank you Phoenix.” Why didn’t he think of you? Rushing into the living area to find you sprawled across one the couches, Astra and Skye were just leaving. “There it is,” Snatching the hat back from you, catching your attention. “Oh حبيبي, do I need to look through your history again?” “Maybe…” Even with the mask you knew what he was thinking, and you welcomed it.

The room was quiet apart from the sound of metal quietly touching other metal, finding Sasha tinkering with his bow. As soon as the door slid open he looked up, seeing it was you entering so he returned to the bow.

“There you are my Голубь, Как прошла миссия?” “English Sasha.” “Sorry my love,” Stepping behind him you slowly undid the cape, “How was the mission?” “Eventful for sure.” When you successfully got it off you draped it over yourself, missing the look Sasha threw over at you. His face was becoming more red the longer he looked, coughing into his fist as he looked away. “Something wrong?” God, you knew what you were doing. Leaning over him, purposelessly getting in his sight. “Not exactly,” Prompting him to speak as he paused, “Maybe we should go somewhere else, I’d rather no one else hear this.”

He swore the rings were placed back in the box when he returned to his room last night, but now, in the morning, he is unable to find them. Only finding an empty box on the dresser where the rings should’ve been. With all his rushing around he had woken you up, shuffling from under the sheets to stand behind him.

Hands reached over his shoulders to rest around his neck, causing him to relax. One of his hands reached up to intertwine with yours, only to come into contact with something warm but hard. Lifting your hand to see your fingers adorned with his rings.

“I’ve been looking around for these, but it was you. तुम छोटे चोर हो.” Spinning you around into his arms while keeping you close, “You know what happens to thieves?” “I don’t think I do, why don’t you show me~”

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[divinevault]

Hiiii could I request an Ares x fem/gn!reader? (Doesn't matter which of those genders)

Can it be one where the reader gets hurt or something because she/they are very reckless (which is party what drew Ares to them) and Ares has to take of them and heal/dress (?) their wound(s)?

Why of course! Here you are, my dear!

I do hope you enjoy

“You absolute dumbass.”

Featuring: Ares x Reader

Summary: You’re hurt, due to your own recklessness. A very disgruntled Ares patches you up.

CW’s: Injuries, but nothing graphic

Reader is: Gender neutral!

Words: 546

Type: Scenario- and it's Fluffy

Requested? Indeed it is

(Note: reader and Ares do not have an established romantic relationship for this)

You’d really have loved to scrape by unnoticed and gone home to your little cottage in the woods without anyone noticing the scratches and bruises that littered your body— alas, there was no such kindness in a world like this.

Well— specifically when you had an entire greek god that liked to lurk around your house and bully you into training.

You’d snuck inside under the cover of the moonlight, hoping like hell that you would be able to cover up your wounds before the god found out.

Looking back on it, you should have been far more aware that no mortal— least of all one he likes— was going to escape his watchful eye.

Which now led you to where you were now, sweating as the God of War stared you down under his helmet with a completely unreadable expression. 

“You’re hurt.” His voice— as always— is a mixture of rough and deep. His tone gives you enough insight to be well aware he’s got his eyes narrowed and a likely-disgruntled expression on his face.

“What me? Injured? Ha! Not evennnnNN—” You snatched onto his arms when Ares picked you up like a cat, hands beneath your armpits and began to stride over to the nearest couch. You flushed in embarrassment as he plopped you down, wordlessly taking out the first-aid kit.

“I can handle it myself,” You grumble, the tingling warmth of his touch remaining even though he’s no longer in contact with you, “I’m not helpless, Ares.”

No response, but you get the sense he just rolled his eyes at you.

… It’s clear this isn’t a battle you’re going to win, so you submit to his whims.

His work is quick and surprisingly gentle, calloused hands missing their usual metal-plated gloves as they bandage the cuts. A comfortable silence envelops the two of you, leaving the sound of the wind rustling the trees outside and the fire crackling in the hearth as the only obvious ambient noise. The couch is soft beneath you as you lay back on it, careful not to press too hard in order to avoid the bruises you’d no doubt sustained there.

“You’re not helpless,” You blink at Ares’ voice, glancing up from the careful, precise bandaging he’s doing on your left arm. As always, the shadow obscuring the little amount of his face that would be visible is far too thick for you to see through, but you still get the feeling that he’s looking up at you, “but that doesn’t stop you from being a fucking dumbass.”

A mischievous grin takes over your face, “yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Ares seems to muse, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You catch a glimmer of a red iris staring into your own for long enough to make an uncertain blush begin to grow on your face.

“Now get the tartarus to bed.” He stands up once more from his kneeling position, half-kicking, half-sliding the kit back under your couch, “or else.”

“Yessir,” You chirp, saluting at him as you scurry on by to head to your bedroom. You can feel his gaze brush over your back as you vanish into the hallway, heart beginning to hammer.

What the fuck did he mean when he agreed—

[rabioa]

Dress Up!

Alastor x Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral

A nice and slow morning with your lover, Alastor. You both try to figure out what couples costume to wear for Halloween. You both come to an agreeable conclusion, after all, he always believed ivory was a pretty color on you. 

TW: Nothing I think lol

This is my late Halloween special. Remember to stay hydrated and to not eat too much candy at once!! <3

It was a nice peaceful October morning. You were curled up in Alastor's lap, nursing a nice steaming drink. He was settled into his comfy chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was a slow yet cozy morning for you two, the fall equivalent of lounging in a lazy river. The weather outside was dull red and chilly to the bone. It beat winter, but it was still cold. The dreary outdoor weather was the perfect indoor weather. 

His arms rested on the arm rests, providing a comforting sort of cradle for your body as you snuggled up to him.

“Halloween is coming around,” you began, catching his attention. You tilted your head up, catching his expression. His eye brow was arched high, a bemused smile on his face as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“Hmm, I suppose it is, dear. We can carve pumpkins if you'd like? The roasted seeds make wonderful snacks,” he proposed.

A mischievous smile grew on your face. You faced forward, opting to not look at his face. “That's a great idea. We can decorate the hotel for Halloween. But, what about Halloween itself? It would be a pity to skip out on the festivities,” you mused, gently guiding the conversation into whatever tomfoolery you had planned. 

To be honest, it was way too early in the morning for your shenanigans, but Alastor had always enjoyed your odd sort of chaos. You shifted in his lap, turning around so you straddled him. 

Perfect, now he was totally trapped and helpless against your mischief!!!

His head was tilted to the side, boosting your courage through his curiosity. You silently noted the adorable way his ears stood. One was lax, flopping down, but the other was at attention, almost like an antenna facing the sky. 

“And what festivities would you propose? I know Charlie intends on hosting some sort of Halloween party. Are you suggesting we attend?” he watched you take a long sip of your drink, leaving him waiting.

Like a fly to honey, he fell for your trap. Of course you knew he was just humoring you and going along with whatever you wanted, but it was still nice to pretend you were some master manipulator. Perhaps you were secretly a master manipulator, after all you convinced him to date you.

“I don't see why not, ah- but it’s a costume party. You can just show up without dressing up! So, what if we do those couple's costumes? Imagine! You can be butter, I can be bread. I can be salt, you can be pepper. You can be Joker and I can be Harley!” You proposed ideas, the concept of a couples costume had been brewing in your mind ever since fall rolled around. 

He seemed bemused, a grin on his face. “Costumes? Dear, I believe I'm already a demon. That's enough of a costume, is it not?” He countered.

You groaned. “That's not the point! Its for fun! How about we go as a vampire and helpless maiden?” You pouted.

“Darling, I'm a cannibal. That's basically a vampire. And you're already a helpless maiden to my charms. There's no need for a costume like that,” he teased, sipping his coffee as he enjoyed your offended expression. 

“Little red and the big bad wolf?”

“Your cheeks are red enough, and I’m always ready to devour you. No point in dressing up as what we already are.” You ignored his flirtatious and flustering words, as he always said such things with the most innocent expression, as if he weren’t having the time of his life making you blush.

“Ugh, you're impossible! Corpse bride?”

“Hmm? What's that, dear?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head once more. 

He startled slightly when you suddenly grabbed his face with your hands. “Oh you sweet summer child. We need to get you culture. Tonight we are having a movie night. I don't wanna hear any objections,” you decided. “I'll be Emily, you'll be Victor.”

He cupped one of your hands on his face, gently easing it off to instead intertwine your fingers. “The title has bride in it. Does that mean you're the bride and I'm the groom?” He pressed a charming kiss to your hand that never failed to make your heart go pit-a-pat.

“Yup. I get to wear white and everything,” you grinned, seeing him genuinely consider it.

“I suppose its an acceptable costume…” After all, he always believed ivory was a pretty color on you. 

[sakurasnowfall]

hi, Idk if i’m doing This right, but could you please write Some angst that turns into fluff about Reader x anime sanji? reader can be Afab or gender neutral, i don’t mind. You can also choose the scenario, Full control :)

thank You 🤩 and its ok if you don’t get to this, LOVE your writing by the way it’s So beautiful

Hi! As regards to your *Idk if im doing this right* no worries fam, neither do I (your request was perfect, though, so no worries!) 😭

Here is the story. I brain stormed maybe 7 ideas for this starting the night I got this request. It stumped me so freaking bad, and it took a couple weeks to get an...almost complete draft down. I let it sit for way to long, hence why it has been nearly a whole month. So here is what I am gonna do. I just wrote the missing 1/4 of this. I am going to post what it now. I WILL BE GOING BACK TO EDIT THIS AND MAKING IT BETTER. My anxiety was screaming at me to at least put out SOMETHING. So, I hope this is okay FOR NOW. I know it sucks, but I promise eventually I will improve it for you!

Thank you thank you thank you for the compliment!!! Lots of love <3

Tw : Blood, syringe mention, death mentioned

Established relationship, fem reader, and () used as a name placeholder.

Sanji usually loved red. Maroon roses. Vermillion wine. Scarlett sunsets. Ruby hearts. But now? He hated it. He hated it so much. Seeing it, dripping from every spot on her body. Covering her in a sheet of sickening crimson. Imagining what he would give to swap their places was not a thought for the faint of heart. All he could do was watch as Chopper gently cleaned the blood off of her arms and her face. As the tiny doctor wrapped her torso in bandages, her hovered, almost like a ghost with how pale and silent he remained. Ironic...that the chef of the crew himself was the only one who did not eat. Actually, that was not quiet true, as he forced himself a few forkfuls of food, guided by the phantom scolding he heard from () about neglecting his self care. He spent that night in the infirmary with her. Listening to the fragile, feathery breaths that balanced her on the edge of his world and the next. He thought that was the worst sound he would hear that day. This was not the case. Sanji learned that the worst sound was not the sound of her anguished screams. It was not the sound of her painful, labored breaths. He learned it was not the sound of her unconscious cries.

Sanji learned that the worst sound was no sound at all.

No amount of force on the Grandline could be guaranteed success in trying to restrain him. Sanji couldn't see Chopper scrambling to her bedside or hear him shouting. He couldn't hear Luffy's yelling. He couldnt hear Zoros grunts as the swordsman tried in vain to hold the cook down, slamming him to the floor after narrowly avoiding a kick to the head. If he couldn't see Robins powers prop up various instruments for Chopper, then certainly couldn't have seen one of her hands stabbing a syringe into his arm.

------------------------

When the cook awoke, it wasn't his head, or his knees - which had been bent underneath his weight - that hurt the most. It was his heart. His ever-bleeding heart, over flowing with the love that gushed and overflowed. How he found the strength to stand, he wasn't sure. But when he did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. A place that held a bright, white shimmer and a peculiar haze about it, yet for all it's light gave off no warmth. He rubbed the back of his head, turning to better gauge his surroundings. That's when he saw her. Standing, maybe 200 feet away from him. Standing. Almost shimmering, radiant. Alive. If his legs had ever held a purpose other than carrying him to her, they didn't remember, as he sprinted toward her. She was just about to turn to him, when shadow, greater than anything he had ever seen, was summoned forth from the white ground, casting an ugly contrast, dragging whatever twisted world he was in from chilled to ice-cold. Sanji knew what this shadow was. More sure than he had been of almost anything in his life. It wanted her. Maybe it wanted him as well. He had run from it more times than he could count. But there was no running this time.

Rage guided his motions, and his love refined them to a deadly point, spearing the sheer power of his attacks into his opponent's core. If fighting death itself was all that stood between him and his life, then he would gladly fight it. Death wanted his life, and it would not have her. His fire lit it's shadows, extinguishing them, bit by bit, piece by piece. Until there was nothing left but air.

By the time he was done, adrenaline had rewarded him with the energy to run the remaining distance to her. When he reached her, he stopped. He reached out, his hand shaking. "()........" His voice failed him, his hand attempting to make up for his words by softly coming to rest at the side of her face. She had not broken her silence, but he could see her returning to him. Shutting her eyes and leaning into his touch, a few stray teardrops escaping her eyes, his own eyes mirroring the action. Her kissed her softly, hoping to regain his words through his actions. He pulled back after a brief moment, resting his forehead against hers. His hand had now moved to intertwine with hers. When his voice returned to him, in a whisper "let's go home......"

When Sanji woke up, his eyes had hardly opened before he sprang out of bed, scrambling into Chopper's office. He saw () sitting up, awake, eyes locked on him. He paused, before carefully approaching her, perhaps afraid that THIS was the dream.

"Are you.....how are you......feeling? " the blonde came to gently sit on the edge of her bed, carefully reaching out to cup to side of her face. () placed a hand atop his.

"I'm okay." He nodded, a few stray drops of bittersweet relief sliding down his face, quickly whisked away with a small laugh.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, vague organized crime setting, lots of horirble shit ( oliver is threatening), references to sex work, and depictions of violence, 18+

✮  a/n ; i didnt have a point in the fic to mention it but the organization barou and oliver are apart of are at odds with the yakuza lol. not relevant but felt like it should be somewhere/

You're a book keeper.

That's all there is to your job, really.

Of course, you didn't become the book keeper for the Japanese branch of a global crime syndicate overnight. Before this you were laundering money and right before you got put away, you snatched up by your local organizations head.

You're meticulous, good with numbers and know how to lie. That's why your boss wrung you out from the hands of the police and welcomed you.

You're a book keeper, and that's all there is to your job. And even back when you were laundering on a smaller scale, it was rare anyone every took interest in you specifically.

Your boss is sitting on the edge of the desk covered in blood. There's a trail of bodies knocked out in all corners of the room and some loose teeth, mixed with the smell of printer ink and leather couches.

You didn't think he was going to be the one to wait with you while you looked over records.

He's usually too busy to be here for anything domestic. He leaves that work in the hands of Barou, who you've worked with a lot before. Barou is a good boss, albeit a little scary.

You didn't think today was gonna be any different.

But he's here, anyhow - sitting on the edge of your desk with his shirt barely over his shoulders, covered in blood and loosely holding and unlit cigarette.

And he's staring at you. Hard.

Barou had mentioned it. That the boss was interested in you after your exploits in the Shizuoka firm, finding some inconsistencies in their documents that could've cost him a lot. That was months ago so it slipped your mind he'd even known.

You pause as shuffle through pages and pages of written records, reorganizing loose records. Fucking criminal orgs and their dogshit filing system.

You tap a stack of papers against the table, feeling the pressure of Olivers gaze.

You sigh.

"Boss," He pauses when he hears you talk. He smiles wide. "It's a little hard to focus with you here."

He stands to his feet and looks ten times more intimidating than usual. He blood soaked dress shirt gives up hanging off of him loosely and falls onto the flloor. From the neck down he's covered in tattoos, all color. There's more flowers on him then you thought there'd be. You flit your gaze back to your papers as he walks up besides you, sitting directly next to you on the desk instead of on the edge.

He's quiet for a long stretch of time, unresponsive - so you try your best to continue your work.

When he puts his hands on your chin, you freeze. He tips your face up to him with a look you can't read and you wonder what you're supposed to do. You've experienced an average amount of harassment in your time here but that was mostly form grunts. Barou doesn't like stuff like that so you usually just tell on them.

You can't really go against Oliver though, can you?

"Aw, don't look so scared. Just taking a peek at the merchandise as they say."

You furrow your brows. "Merchandise? I'm not a prostitute. This is my only work here."

He laughs a little. At your indignant choice of words. "No I know that. I'm messin' around. You could make a good living that if you wanted to make some extra cash you know?"

You look at him flatly. Barou rarely has good things to say about him, but he does respect him. You currently can't help but wonder why.

"No thank you."

He pauses again and you wonder if you've pissed him off. It's not like you want to give him lip, but you really don't want to let him intimidate you either. You hold firm as he holds your gaze, lids dropping. He grabs your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together.

"Got a lot of nerve, don't you?"

You make a confused face at him but you don't fold. Guys like him are all the same. You give them an inch they'll take a mile. They're out for blood after all. The first sign of weakness and they'll bang down your door.

You hold your ground, even against some greater instinct to do as he says. You can't. You couldn't even if you wanted too. You've been in the business for a long time and you intend to stay that way.

The stalemate stands for so long you wonder if the people laying at his feet will manage to stand back up. But you don't give.

And then, after a while he lets go. Your face almost stings form how hard he was holding it but he just... drops it and goes quiet. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, since you're sure something will but he—

He laughs.

For a while too. You don't really know what to make of it so you keep to yourself as he does. A hand comes ontop of your head and rubs, and you sort of feel like a dog which you don't like. Shaking him off, you scoot back. He's still watching you, still bloodstained, still broad and imposing, still tattooed and silent. Bu something lingers.

And, for a reason you can't name, it's the thing that makes a pit of dread form in your stomach.

Maybe you're reading too much into it. Maybe it's just you being self-absorbed. But you know, you've seen it before. Greed is the devil you dance with everyday and it's there. On his face. If it was about the money, you're sure he'd just make it about the money.

You'd know if it was about the money.

He pulls a lighter from his pants pocket lights his cigarettes as he smiles at you. He glances at the clock, at one of the bodies at his feet, and then his eyes land back on you. Upturned, crinkled at the corners, blood smeared. He looks and looks and looks. You know what it looks like when someone is desperate for money. Or when their greed makes a fool of them.

You're just a book keep, though. You keep your head down.

It's the first time since you've been born that you've seen this kind of face. An almost uncharacteristic kind of thrill and exhilaration simmering under the surface.

It's the first time you've had someone take an interest in you like this.

He puffs out a long cloud of smoke.

"How long do you have left here?"

"Uhm. A while sir."

"About dinner time, yeah?"

You nod. He hums.

"Right. Then. We're getting dinner afterwards so try and hurry up, kay?"

You get the feeling it's not really a question, so you sigh.

"Yes boss."

He smiles one more time, contented before turning to leave. You wonder if it's too late for you to retract. You get the feeling it is.

having horrible evil thoughts about oliver as a mob boss